My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 579

Chapter 579: Rifling Through

Amanda was in an awfully chirpy mood today.

Just completely blasted by a raging torrent of eagerness the moment I swung open the passenger door.

A winning smile was plastered all across her lips, so dazzlingly bright, straining hard her seatbelt buckle just so she could lean in and give me a greeting peck on the cheek.

“So, all ready to go?” She asked, her voice practically dripping with enthusiasm.

Amanda had her bright blonde hair in braids, wearing a silky crown of her own locks, with the rest of it falling in a golden cascade at waist height. Now, I don’t know my hairstyles too well... but I’m gonna wager that she must probably spend a good long while staring meticulously at her own reflection just so she could get to look as perfect as it could.

That’s the word – meticulous. Everything about her was meticulously done.

The way she dressed, the way she looked... I’ve never seen a more eager, excited expression on her face. It’s like she siphoned all the world’s happiness and slurped them up with a straw... that’s just how cheery she was.

.....

In fact, she was so cheery, so emboldened by passion... that I didn’t have the heart nor the will to ask her any of the questions I had about Lenora. I didn’t want to kick the effort she put into this day to the curb like it was nothing – today wasn’t nothing.

It was an apology.

A gift.

Her gift.

I promised her myself.

For now, should really just keep my thoughts to myself.

And so like leaves scattered in the cold wind, I allowed the words to flutter free from my mind, forced back down my throat, never to emerge, and I formed my own merry smile back in kind.

“Lead the way.”

Location scouting, as I would gradually come to find out, was more of a passive activity than it was an active one. Most of the time I’m just buckled down in my seat, being cruised from one location to the next. Along the way, Amanda did most of the talking, and I responded appropriately.

She was looking forward to the next shoot, and so, I was too. She wondered if it was gonna snow in the coming days, and I wondered right alongside her. She expressed her condolences regarding Ash, being sick and all, and hoped that she’d get better too soon... and I just told her I’d pass the message along.

Once we reached the first location and had the opportunity to stretch our legs, we were far gone from any metropolitan sights. Here it was dreary, ransacked... and halfway to abandonment.

Actually, it looked pretty freaking familiar.

“Is this...?” I glanced over at her from across the hood of her car, finding her affirming gaze looking right back, declaring my instinct rights. “You want to shoot a scene here?”

The stench, the grime, the air, the stench, umm... did I mention the stench yet? The potholes on the road, weathered graffiti sticking on decades-old brick walls, barren sidewalks, and desolate streets.

This was where fate first took us on our long-arduous to cleanse the entire world of the Blightfall... this rundown middle of nowhere place, picking up an intoxicated succubus from a dilapidated hotel.

I looked up, and there hung the same vacancy sign my eyes laid on all those days ago... as if it were just yesterday.

“Why here?” I asked, snapping my eyes back towards Amanda who was now looking back at me through the lens of a camcorder.

“I told you already, weren’t you listening?” She whirled the camera around, capturing all the beauty of this godless piece of earth. “First place we’re looking for is a gloomy, creepy building to shoot the upcoming scene. It’s top priority on the list.”

Was it? Really? She said that? When? How? I would have heard, I was paying attention.

I think...

“This is the same hotel, right? The one Irene was huddled up in?” Amanda asked, craning the lens to the skies for a good angle on the sign. “How were the rooms? Messy enough? Disheveled enough?”

“Good enough,” I said, shrugging, quickly following after her as she clambered up the entrance steps. “If it’s creepy and gloomy you want, can’t we just green screen ourselves into a place like that?”

“It’s not practical,” Amanda replied, pulling hard on the rickety handle, ushered in by the loud opening squeaks of the rusted hinges. “The director wants to use as many practical effects as he can. Keep things raw and real, he said.”

Director wants practical, wants methodical... the hell does this guy think he is, Kubrick? Hitchcock?

Seriously, I’ve never known a fan film with this painstaking of a production. But then again, I don’t even know any other productions to begin with, so... what am I even talking about?

Surprisingly enough, the place was still in business and renting... and as I was the chivalrous gentleman of the group, I ended up forking over the hourly package for the king-sized bedroom.

Almost thought the old lady receptionist behind the ash-caked counter had forgotten about me, until she handed me the key with both a smile and a little wink.

“Room 502,” Carol muttered, her beady eyes sneakily glancing at an unaware Amanda busy filming the entirety of the lobby. “Memory might be a bit fuzzy, dear... but I don’t recall Ms. Ruria Salnor having a single strand of blonde hair. Well, who’s this then?”

I let the room key fall into my palm, “A friend,” I answered, flashing her a fleeting polite smile.

“A friend, indeed,” She whispered, winking impishly at me again. “Do enjoy yourself, okay?”

This Carol has a memory of an elephant, I swear. Either that, or I must have left quite an impression the first time I came here. Room 502 too... the very same room I found Irene in. Now either that’s just coincidence, or...

Nah, like hell it’s coincidence.

“Over here, Sam Raimi,” I called out to Amanda, making love to the moth-eaten sofa with the camera. “Room’s on the fifth floor.”

We huffed and puffed the entire five flights of stairs all the way up to the correct level on the account of a broken elevator under maintenance for seemingly an eternity.

And as we marched through the quiet, musty corridor towards our destination, I was quietly reliving the past in the most literal sense possible.

Ah, I remember these stained walls, that slightly pungent smell to the air, the hallway carpet... squelching, soaked... with God only knows what...

“Maybe I forget, but why do we need rundown and messy again?” I asked the diligent scout at my side.

Amanda threw me a look with her free eye. “It’s like you weren’t even paying attention to me or something, what – were you thinking of something else? someone else? Another girl, perhaps?”

“No,” I simply said. “Just... refresh my memory, if you’d be so kind.”

Her eye retained a sliver of suspicion, but went on anyway to offer a brief explanation. “Leonardo will be looking for anyone that knows more about the secret portal back home. One of his only leads would bring him to a ruined, decrepit home where he would find an Elidna that has more information about what he seeks.”

At that, I paused... a stream of trivia and tidbits clicking and connecting like puzzle pieces.

“An Elidna? The ancestors of the Vampires?”

And the Aerons, and the Nyemers,” Amanda added. “You can trace their evolutionary traits back to the Elidna.”

Once again, I took a moment. “I thought the Elidna were fully extinct, right? Long ago?”

She giggled. “Or so we thought...” and left it at that.

The plot was getting thicker here. A lone survivor of a long-extinct race? A land forgotten by the Gods. Just what kind of place did Dad stumble upon here?

“You know, I don’t think I ever did ask you,” Amanda suddenly said, lowering the camcorder and seemingly unfazed by her bizarre surroundings. “When you found Irene back then, you took quite an awfully long time to bring her back down with you... is there a particular reason for that?”

Why do I not like the tone she used to phrase that? A simple question, all things considered... so what’s this heavy pressure sinking into my chest all of a sudden?

“Would the phrase ‘long story’ suffice as an answer?” I asked her. “Because I don’t really feel like telling you, frankly.”

“Why not? I like long stories.”

Lust overpowering. Hands gliding. Lips pressing. Gasps. Moans. A promise. A deal.

I shook my head. “Not this one.”