Asher the Insane

92 - Papia Barbera De Wimmer - 06

As I stood at the bottom of the stone stairway, waiting with Asher to meet the king, standing still became a challenge as the discomfort of the clothes he picked for me became apparent. The brown frilly dress he thought looked good was itching my skin like crazy. I couldn't wait to take it off as soon as the job was done. My mind kept wandering off to a blue dress that I had my eyes on, but Asher didn't agree with my choice, so I didn't take it. Looking back, I realized that letting him choose my outfit was a mistake.

I kept telling myself that once this job was done, I could always go and buy as many dresses as I wanted. Blue, brown, red, yellow, or pink, it didn't matter. However, standing there waiting for the king, there was a feeling of unease that lingered in the air that I couldn't shake off, which had nothing to do with the dress.

We had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity, but it couldn't have been more than an hour, and I could see that Asher was getting restless. He was pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself and the air in front of him. It was clear that he wasn't enjoying the wait at all.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes- No- Maybe? Was it the right decision to come here as an elf?" He asked, almost hyperventilating.

"I don't know? It's not like you could have come here as anything different from what you are," I said plainly.

He didn't agree to that statement completely.

"I could still try," from his belt he pulled out a knife, "but I'll do it my way!" This would have been a perfect moment for him to let out a deranged laugh.

I watched in horror as he put the knife to his head and cut just a bit into one of his ears, seemingly trying to cut them off.

"I can be a human. I'd just have to get rid of these ears."

I told him to stop. "Even if you get rid of the ears, what are you going to do about your glowing eyes?" I said. Even the idea of cutting your own ears off was insane, but telling him that logically wouldn't have done anything, so I tried an unorthodox method of reasoning which seemed more inline to his thinking.

He stopped instantly and sheathed the knife. "You're right."

A triangular cut had already been made into his left ear and it was bleeding, which he quickly bandaged with linen I handed him that I pulled from the Haversack.

Asking him about the bag was a moment that filled me with both anticipation and apprehension.

His response was cryptic, leaving me with more questions than answers, just saying, 'There's a lot in there.'

What could possibly be in there that was so valuable that he couldn't even give me a ballpark estimate? The possibilities of riches made my head spin.

I looked at Asher and tried to soothe his mood. "Don't worry, we've come this far. We'll make it through this." I don't know why I was the person that had to reassure him.

He stopped pacing and turned to face me. "I hope you're right," he said, his eyes full of worry.

As he continued to pace around, I noticed the guards stationed at either end of the wide stone stairway leading up to the castle. They were armored and armed with spears that looked pretty old, but still sharp enough to poke through anything. It made me nervous just looking at them.

"What's the king's name again, Adolfa or something? It's on the tip of my tongue. "

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really so unprepared that he didn't even know the name of the country's ruler? My frustration was evident as I responded, "Please tell me this isn't true. Please tell me that was an attempted crude joke and not a genuine question. You do know the king's name, don't you?"

Unfortunately, his response confirmed my worst fears. He simply looked at me with a blank expression, and I knew right away that he had no idea who the king was.

Feeling a mixture of annoyance and disbelief, I told him in very clear words, "Adolar Lang Padillia, the king of Phosa, is called Adolar Lang Padillia."

In a moment of unusual sincerity, Asher apologized for his forgetfulness, blaming it on his "memory being a bit on the fritz."

I reminded him of the importance of being well-informed and prepared, especially in such a high-stakes situation. "Well, you better get it together before we meet him," I said, trying to sound stern, but also hoping that my words would motivate him to put in the necessary effort to ensure a successful meeting.