Brendanjoke

It was just like any other day, or so I thought at least. The birds were chirping up on trees, clouds were rolling by the bright blue sky and Elves were dumpster diving in the alleyway.

Okay, one of those three didn't sound right...

I had a boring life once. Recently though, it has become less boring... to put it one way.

Finding a random Elf in the dumpster? Heh, must be a Monday.

A normal person would have walked by. A normal person would have ignored it.

I must be a pretty weird guy, then.

Now I have this Elf swearing her allegiance to me. What's next, vampires?

Better not jinx it.

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My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

For some reason, I was feeling kind of strange… except it wasn't like the physically inhibiting type of feeling. It was more of a… sentimental type of vibe, a profound sort of emptiness inside.

For all intents and purposes, I just saved a life, didn't I? So why does everything still feel the same? Aren't heroes inherently supposed to feel good after saving the day?

Either that was just a big lie, or maybe I ain't feeling as much of a hero as I thought would. I saved Harry, but in retrospect, was that really all I wanted from it, or in the midst of my nobility... was I just trying to prove a point?

The things I've asked, the lengths I went through, was I doing it all to save him, or did I do them because I simply wanted to think that I could? To have that assurance, to gain that level of confidence?

Harsh Punishment