My Servant Is An Elf-Knight From Another World

Chapter 14

They say that the deeper you sleep, the harder it was to wake up from it. That a deep sleep is like a puddle of quicksand. The more you struggled, the more you've made it harder to escape.

I didn't know how long it took for me to finally fall asleep.

It took a while getting accustomed to seeing Ash's blood splatters on my walls and floor, it didn't help that I had to sleep at an angle to avoid sleeping in the parts of the bed sheet that got stained in the process.

But once sleep did arrive, it was already too late to stop before I realized just how deep the quicksand really was. When I dreamed, I was aware that I was dreaming. That never really happened before.

And I dreamed of many, many things.

It started out mundane. Normal nonsensical dreams, then it just spiraled out of control from there.

The most peculiar dream, really. No clue what brought it on. If I had to guess, Ash had something to do with it.

Been indulging in her fantasy stories so much, it's starting to seep into my unconscious.

In the dream, my parents were standing on either side from each other in a dry, desolate plain. I always knew them for having great synergy with each other, always getting along well like they were made for each other.

That dream was the polar opposite of it.

I dreamed that they were fighting - seriously fighting. And not that standard couple's arguments that people normally have. They were straight up going for each other's throats in the most bizarre way possible.

Mom, the gentle, kind soul that I knew she was, spewed fire from her lips. Dad charged forth towards her raging flame, a shield at his front, a sword in the other hand.

Bolts of lighting began to shower the vicinity, each strike within inches of Dad's feet. Death was barely a hair's breadth away, yet the smile on his face conveyed that he did not fear it.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Terestra!" He shouted.

That wasn't my mother's name, but she responded to his call, returning his smile with a sinister smirk of her own.

"I shall do just that, then... Leonardo," she said.

My dad wasn't called Leonardo. Just where are these names coming from?

They threw everything at each other. Shaping the barren landscape into a disaster zone. Each attack just kept on escalating and escalating until the very earth started shaking with their every step.

My mother was suspended in the air now, a dark purple aura radiating off her body, a derisive giggling sounding aloud from where she hovered, staring down at my dad on the ground with the most wicked of expressions.

"Twenty years... and this is what it all amounted up to?" She said, spreading her arms out wide. "Your home, your world, your people, reduced to mere heaps of sand crumbling away at your feet. Is this truly what your prophecy spoke of?"

Dad's smile didn't falter as he stared at the bright, ominous glow in the sky.

"Since when have prophecies ever made anything clear for anyone, huh? All it said was that a great evil would arise," Dad said, pointing his sword at her floating figure. "And you're that evil."

"Oh? So what else did this wise old prophecy speak of, if you may be so kind?"

Dad gripped his sword tight. "That alongside that evil, a hero would stand against her. I'm that hero."