Louise Summons a Jedi Master
Chapter 1: A Little Green Friend
It was early morning. The sunlight had barely crept through the curtains, just enough to stir Louise from slumber.
"Uuuugh."
Groggily she rose, exhausted from the dream she had. Her sight remained bleary, unable to make out details of anything in her room.
She thought of lying down, closing her eyes and letting the comfort of her bed take her again. But that would be unbecoming of her. As a mage in training, the daughter of a renowned duchess, and a noble of Tristian, a lot is expected of her, and she needed to perform at her best. Plus, today is a very important day, one that cannot be missed.
Bringing her legs out, her feet gently touched the cold wooden floor. She stood, stretching her spine as gentle fists rubbed her eyes. The air had a slight shiver, a cold brush against skin that caused her to hug herself.
To the corner of her room she looked at a bed of hay, the stuff having been prepared by the maids. It was the resting spot for her familiar… or her soon-to-be familiar. She desperately hoped that it wouldn't be empty by the end of today. She would not let it sit empty.
She brought herself in front of a mirror. Her pink hair was a mess, a not-so surprising result of her sleep. Thankfully, her nightgown is in better condition, and her skin a silky white.
Louise took in the air, the smells following.
…
Such indignity… A quick bath is in order, she thought.
Her reflection kept staring back. As much as she needed to move, she couldn't.
"I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure. I'm not," she softly encouraged.
To many, even to her teachers, she had less-than ideal talents in the practical arts of magic. It was a wonder to what element she aligned with, for any spell she attempted ended in a literal explosion. By all accounts, her theoretical understandings are well above her peers, even a certain cow. That at least got her praise from the faculty, even Headmaster Osmond himself.
None of that would matter, though, if she somehow failed today's ceremony, and there was a very present possibility she would fail.
Her expression grew determined, her mirror counterpart matching it. "I will not fail. I'll show them that I'm capable. I'll summon the greatest familiar to ever exist!"
It is midday, the sun now high above.
In one of Tristan Academy's great courtyards, a circle of second-years had gathered. Some had already summoned their familiar, behind them an array of colorful beasts, reptiles, dogs, cats, amphibians, and even a floating eye–a Bug Bear–paired with their new masters. It was all the result of a simple spell.
It should be simple, she thought. Yet all she could feel was dread, a tremble in her posture. It is perhaps why she chose to go last.
The Summoning Exam is a testament of any mage, the summoned familiar a reflection of their character and magical affinity of the four elements. It was unheard of for any mage of any talent to fail the exam. If that were the case, it meant they were no mage at all, not all a descendent of Brimir himself, the founder of the four royal families (or three depending on the scholar).
There was a sudden flash before a blond girl. Behind stood Jean Colbert, The only professor overseeing the Exam. "Very good, Miss Montmorency!" he congratulated her, the student retrieving an orange frog before her.
"Louise, you're shaking! Are you nervous?"
Louise turned to her eternal rival, an endowed youth with red hair flowing untamed over one eye. She bore the look of challenge. Next to her a large salamander laid still, her 'Flame' she named it, the creature giving a curious look between its new master and the petite girl.
Truth be told, Louise grew considerably nervous when Kirche summoned the impressive creature, and even more so when Tabith managed to summon a Wind Dragon–a Wind Dragon!–of all things. But she would not show it.
"I will not entertain you, Zerbst," she spat, steeling herself.
The germanian gave a mock look of concern. "After yesterday, I would certainly be. Your demonstration had left Miss Chevreuse's class in a mess!"
"What exactly are you insinuating? That I will summon something so lowly as an insect?" That is a troubling thought for her, though she would never admit it. In fact, she was more worried that she would summon nothing.
Kirche bent down, her hair and inflated chest adjusting as she did so. "At least let me be concerned for you." Kirche teased.
She felt her head begin to strain, her forehead twitching. "I do not need your sympathy! I will summon a familiar better than your amphibian, better than any in Halkegenia! Mark my words!"
The salamander shifted its gaze, its eyes fixed on Louise as though it had taken offense to the broad (but correct) title.
The redhead was unfazed, still maintaining her mocking tone. "The greatest then? Well, we shall definitely see!" She turned around, sauntering off to Tabitha. Flame broke its gaze as it started following Kirche. "Try not to disappoint, little one!"
Lousie almost threw another slew of unkind words but held herself, noticing some of the students snickering. She instead hushed, "Stupid inflated cow! Stupid harlot!"
As the last of the students finished their summons, she had been finally called upon. "Miss Vallière, will you please step forth?" Colbert prodded.
Nervously, she stepped forth. Immediately the murmurs started, a cacophony of whispers she grew all too well accustomed too:
"You think she'll summon anything?"
"It'll be explosive, just watch."
"Now there's going to be soot!"
"What a Zeroooo."
"She should have left by now."
"I wonder if her parents are even at all surprised?"
The last one had stung.
She banished the noise. It wouldn't serve her to be distracted, especially for this.
Toward the center of the circle she gathered herself, clearing her mind of intrusive thoughts that would pollute the result of her summons. She will need all of the concentration and willpower if she is to succeed.
"Begin whenever you're ready, Miss Valliere," the professor ordered.
Withdrawing her wand, she began her incantation: "My wise and powerful familiar that exists in the vast Universe!"
The murmurs started again:
"How creative! Is this even acceptable as a spell?" Kirche spoke to Tabitha.
"Quiet," the short, blue-haired girl responded.
"You're no fun," the bimbo huffed in fake annoyance.
With a surge of will power she pressed on, the tip of her wand pointed before her. "I beg of you, from the bottom of my heart–"
"What a desperate thing to say," snipped Montmorency.
"Do not insult her. She is attempting her best," Guiche, a blond boy, half heartedly defended.
"Hmph, it won't amount to anything," she finished.
"–, by the pentagon of the five elements, answer my summons, and appear before me!"
Like a damn breaking, raw, untapped power surged forth.
BOOOOM!*
The explosion was much more deafening than any before.
To the untrained eye, they would only notice the perturbed students, jeering and coughing as soot and smoke filled their senses. To Professor Colbert's, he immediately noticed Louise stumble.
Under a wind spell, he dashed forth, catching the pinkette before she fell forward. "Louise, are you alright!?" he nearly shouted.
The girl began coughing, failing to respond. He felt her shiver, a likely sign of exhaustion from using too much willpower. She was still conscious, if barely.
Kirche had observed the scene, a great look of genuine worry casted over her features. "Professor, is she alright!?" She tried calling out, only for her plea to fall to deaf ears.
She attempted to approach but was stopped by Tabitha, the small girl's staff pressing against her chest. "Stop," the bluette said.
The smoke began clearing, and it was by now that some of the students noticed something lying beneath the smoke.
"What is that!?"
"Is it green?"
"It's under cloth!"
Fairly soon, laughter rose, mockery evident in their voice.
"It's a toad!"
"How incredibly fitting!"
"Louise the Zero summons an amphibian!"
It was quite clear that it was unconscious. Only a head and an arm stuck out of a bundle of robes with some sort of stick beside it. It was difficult to make out anything else as it blended into the grass.
The professor was quick to silence them. "That's quite enough, all of you!"
Louise stirred, ringing still in the ears. She couldn't understand what her peers were saying, but by the soft laughter she heard it couldn't be anything but mockery. Her blood began boiling, even as she couldn't emote anger.
Colbert sensed the girl stirring. Helping her stand, the Valliere managed to maintain her posture, a shaky one at that. She quickly surveyed the scene for her familiar, finding a diminutive figure where she had her wand pointed. The girl didn't hesitate to approach.
"Louise–?" the professor began but stopped himself.
Already she was on her knees, gently shifting the creature, brushing against the rough-textured robes it wore. Seeing the green… thing… whatever-it-was motionless did little to calm her. The explosion was more destructive than any before. A sense of guilt wracked her, the idea that she killed her familiar eating her conscience.
Slowly, Louise turned it over, the sight of two notable features causing her to jump back in fright.
Jean started taking precautionary action, raising his wand for an incantation as he grabbed the pinkette by the arm. "Louise, get back!"
The creature's pointed ears shared similarities to an infamous race in all of Halkeginia, and they gave the professor alarm. An elf would not hesitate to decimate them, for their power allowed them to do so easily. It was also a matter of fact that they viewed humanity as nothing more than common beasts.
Though as the professor kept observing, several oddities became apparent, its short stature and facial structure being the first. Is it even an elf? The professor thought.
Louise and the rest of her peers had not arrived at the same thought.
"What is that!?"
"An orc?"
"It's ears!"
"An elf!?"
"Louise summoned an elf!?"
The more the young Valliere viewed it, the more she became convinced that it had little in common with the dangerous race. The contortions of its skin were off (despite being evidence of age), and the build of its head was different. Even its ears appeared wrong, being far too long and abnormally shaped to what she saw in text-book depictions. There is also the fact that it's green.
With her primal fear mostly subsided, she attempted to approach, only to be stopped by Jean. "Professor, I need… I need to see if it lives. I have to complete the… ritual," she weakly protested.
After careful consideration he relented, letting go. "Be quick if you must."
Stumbling forth again, she gently came to her knees. Looking over her summon, she noticed its hands in greater detail. They were of three digits each and clawed, not at all the same as an elf's. It can't be an elf, she told herself, though deep down she still wasn't convinced.
Apprehensively, she brought her ear close to its mouth, listening for breath. She heard faint rasps, and an overwhelming sense of relief went through her. It's alive!
Adjusting herself, Louise tapped her lips against its forehead. As she lifted herself, she noticed light emitting from one of its sleeves. Before she could jump back in panic, it ceased. The pinkette was certain the not-elf(?) had awoken to take revenge, but she still saw it unconscious. It must have been the runes branding themselves…
…
What on the Founder's Name had I summoned? She thought.
Soon after, the ceremony had concluded, the students parting away with their familiars, taking the rest of the day (and tomorrow) to bond with them.
The Valliere had retired to her room early that afternoon, willpower exhaustion taking her to rest. She had not done so before having her green familiar moved, one of the servants having followed her with the small creature in her arms.
It was concerning for the pinkette that it had not awakened in the last several hours. She could only hope that her summoning had not given it extensive brain damage that placed it in an eternal coma. All she could do now is let it rest, and hope that her familiar would awake.
In the meantime, she too would sleep. Louise felt extremely tired.
Yoda awoke with a severe headache. His first instinct was to place his hand against his forehead.
"Mmmmmmmm," he growled, letting the vibrations of his throat soothe him.
The first sight to greet him was that of a stone ceiling, a curious sight since, not long ago, he had been beneath a thick, dew-covered canopy. He curiously looked around, noticing the large bed and wooden furniture around. It was dark, his eyes showing little, but his senses revealed everything, even detail lost to most humanoids. The tridactly immediately knew he was nowhere in or near his abode.
But that hardly mattered to him. "Mmmmmmm… hungry…" Most in his position would find themselves in a state of panic, anger, and even annoyance. To him, this was simply a curiosity, the will of the Force.
If there was any crime that ought to be recognized, it should be preventing any living being from a fair, hearty meal. It was exactly that which the small creature had been enjoying before being… pulled away.
It was strange. One moment he was before a green orb, the likes of which he'd never encountered before, and like a light switch his connection to the Force had been ripped away, leaving him… adrift. Yoda had experienced many things in his life, but few had come close to that experience. Fewer still could barely compare to his predicament.
Yoda reached out, finding the familiar tug of the Force but sensed it… different. The ancient being was still able to sense the living around him, taking note of one close and upon the bed (no doubt resting comfortably). Extending out, he could feel the presence of the many living beings and could distinguish the animals from the humans. Their life force, too, felt off but not so different to the old master.
Satisfied, he closed the connection and stood, feeling a soft… pillow and bed of hay beneath. It took him a second to realize he had been sleeping on the cushion.
With the headache subsiding, he felt his tiny stomach rumble. "Mmmmmmmm… find food, I must," he said to no one in particular.
Surveying his surroundings, taking a strong whiff of the air, he concluded that he would not find anything worth eating in the immediate vicinity.
He reached for his walking stick, only to find that the blasted thing wasn't near him. He growled, "Unfortunate, this is."
Eyeing the leg of a wooden chair, he hobbled to it. With assistance of the force, he gradually lowered the furniture to its side. Grabbing at the wooden piece, he gradually pulled, placing his feet against another leg for leverage.
Crack!*
Snap*
The piece came free.
A soft, mumbling voice caught his ears, distinctly feminine and youthful. He didn't understand the gibberish and didn't care to.
"Back to sleep, yes. Back to sleep, you must go," he suggested.
The mumbling ceased, the girl falling to rest again, believing that the sound was a figment of her dreaming.
He gave the wooden piece some scrutiny. It didn't quite fit his hand, and it rose significantly higher than his head. As a temporary replacement, it would do though.
With soft pattering of his feet, he moved to the door, willing it open and closing it as he passed by. Only a trickle of torchlight managed to tickle Louise's eyes, the girl involuntarily shifting her bed sheets to cover her head. Had she been awake she would have heard soft laughter in the adjoining hall.
Professor Jean Colbert was up late in the evening. Earlier, after the summoning ceremony, he had recused himself into a brief yet deep study, pouring over texts of various compendiums in the academy's only library. Before its closing, he retrieved several leather-bound books, and headed to his lecture room, where he took on other tasks. After several hours he found himself in a corridor, the only light from iron-banded torches, the stone works above covered in years of soot.
The creature Louise summoned had captured both his and the students' agitation. He couldn't be certain that it wasn't an elf the same way he could be certain that it is. Orcs and trolls were certainly bigger than it, and very rarely would one see any as a midget (for they tend not to live long). Vampires–the thought of it being one made him shiver–also would never be shaped as such. That only left him to delve deeper into elven biology (the contents of his first book) and other, unseen mythical creatures (the subject of his second): dwarves, fairies, gnomes, goblins, and others of a fantastical nature. Perhaps this was beginning to become a foolish endeavor if his search led him to ancient lore, much less childrens' tales.
It is all a matter of protection and curiosity, afterall, for how can he best protect his students if he himself could not understand the unknown? Jean had at least convinced himself of this as much.
The books were hugged tight to his right arm, bound in a leather satchel. He needed to make one more stop for supper, the nearby kitchens making their final runs at this time. As much as he wanted to continue his curious study, he had student papers to judge and administrative tasks to finish. While he could afford to stay up late (given that no lectures were planned for tomorrow), he preferred to have an early rest, at least for this night.
Rounding into a branching corridor, he stopped dead in his tracks, a cold rush traveling down his spine. Before him, the thing of his odd fear stood alive and tall (for a short creature), holding a broken leg of a chair(?) as a walking stick.
They both stood awkwardly staring at one another, Jean more so nervously.
It then spoke, taking Jean by surprise. "E-excuse me?" he asked.
It made another string of gibberish which made little sense to the wizard. It then gestured to the door behind it, the entrance to the kitchen.
The professor blinked. He couldn't make heads or tails of its speech. It didn't sound anything like his own tongue nor that of any native to Halkenginia. "I… cannot understand you?"
The not-elf gave a surprising look of exasperation, shutting its eyes as it shook its head.
Jean, adjusting his grip on his staff, was about to incant the all-too-useful translation spell when several ideas took him. Rather suddenly, he understood that the creature was hungry, and that it was in his best interest to find him food.
"Oh… oh of course! Follow me, if you will," he said, walking past the green midget, gesturing for him to follow.
It seemed curious to the professor why it hadn't simply walked through the door. They were, after all, no more than several paces from the kitchen. It wasn't until he tried opening it that he realized several issues: the creature's height from the door latch, and the fact that it was locked.
Strange, he thought.
The kitchen
Several minutes ago
"It's the strangest little thing!" Mary insisted excitedly.
It was well past dinner time in the castle, and only Head Chef Marteau, Pierre, and another servant were left to clean up. They were washing dishes and stowing away leftover ingredients in enchanted cold rooms for tomorrow's work.
Some of the maids had taken a brief respite nearby, feasting on their own meals before hurrying on to their nightly duties. For Siesta, Mary, Anne, and Mary Anne, this also served as their gossip hour. Normally, the head chef would have a temper with anyone that took their break in the middle of the kitchen. Given the circumstance, the time of night, and his cordial relations with the four girls, he allowed their stay.
"I'm fairly certain you're describing something else," Anne countered.
"The thing had pointed ears! I felt them!"
"But 'leathery green skin'? That does not sound like any elf I've heard."
"You would believe me if you held it as well!" Mary made a gushing face. "It looked so cute in my arms!"
"And it could have done something terrible to you while being cute," Anne added.
Siesta couldn't help but ask, "How… do you know if it's…" She felt uncertain about calling it an elf. She, like all others, heard of how dangerous elves are, and for Mary to claim she held one in her hands didn't sit right. For all Siesta knew, it could have been a tiny orc.
Mary stopped her before she could finish, shaking her head furiously. "The ears! They're pointed outward!" She gestured with her hands.
Anne made a sudden, damning point, "Have you ever seen an elf before, Mary?"
That stopped the brown-haired maid in her thoughts. "I mean… We've seen drawings!"
"That's not the same!"
Mary Anne suddenly interjected, "Will you two calm your–"
The door to the far end of the kitchen started to shake, rattling back and forth as the latch held it in place.
None of the maids spoke as they turned to that entrance. Pierre and one other chef also looked, the only exception being Marteau who continued cleaning his cooking wares. Some odd, guttural gibberish sounded on the other side. It was enough that it convinced them that opening the door was not in their best interest.
A series of solid thuds rang from the door, followed by more gibberish.
Bang bang bang!*
"M-Marteau?" Siesta nervously asked. Whoever is on the other side acted strangely. It could have been a first year jesting about, and by staff accounts that typically is the case. She was not one to confront ill-mannered nobles, and it wasn't her place to doll out discipline. The latter task is best suited to either the professors or heads of service, such as Marteau.
If it wasn't a student, it is still best to leave it to those capable of handling the strange or dangerous.
Bang!*
"Just some spoiled noble kid," the head chef growled after the fourth thud.
Bang!*
He started grinding his teeth on the fifth.
Bang!*
And his face grew red on the sixth.
…
Anger seemed to dissipate from him when the noise ceased, his posture relaxing as he continued working.
…
Bang!*
He slammed a pot harshly into the sink, water and suds splashing on his food-stained clothes. "THE KITCHEN IS CLOSED YOU RASCAL! QUIT THAT KNOCKING OR BY BRIMIR'S WRATH YOU'LL BE EATING HIS FOOT FUNGUS!"
…
There was a low growl, and then the sound of tiny footsteps pattering away along a rhythm of wood tapping stone.
Siesta and the other maids stood in shock from Marteau's sudden outburst, the dark-haired maid capable of only blinking. The other chefs simply shrugged and continued with their cleanup as though the outburst was completely normal (which, even to the maids, is). Eventually, the four of them continued eating, none of them wanting to break the silence in fear of (somehow) invoking the chef's wrath.
Knock knock knock*
They stopped, terror gripping them in fear of how Marteau would react.
The head chef again stopped, both of his arms holding a sponge against a cast-iron pan. His brow twitched slightly, an expression bordering on fury morphing his features.
Like flames doused by cool water, tension immediately lifted when the voice Professor Colbert sounded on the other side. "Marteau, are you there? It's Jean. I apologize for being this late."
The head Chef's expression immediately lightened, and he started shuffling to the door. "Confound it! You should have said so from the start." He withdrew a key and started unlocking the door. "You'll have to forgive me, we've had too many incidents recently."
"All well and fine," the professor said.
The lock clicked and he swung the latch, allowing the door to open into the adjoining hall. Certainly enough, a man with a bald head, glasses, staff and blue robes met Siesta's eyes, and behind him a small…
"M-mary!?" She found herself clinging to the young woman, her eyes fixated on the green creature's elvish ears. It was certainly one thing to hear someone describe a dwarvish elf, but entirely another to see it alive and walking. It looked odd enough wearing brownish robes and holding what appeared to be the leg of a chair.
Mary stood stunned, unable to register the sight before them. Anne and Mary Anne were also just as equally frightened.
The chefs seemed to have some shock, but of course Marteau appeared completely unfazed. "Good gracious, did you have to bring someone's toad with you!?" he asked.
The little thing started casually walking by, huffing and grunting, indifferent to the chef's insult or not understanding what had been said. It appeared more interested in its new surroundings, taking in the various appliances, tools, utensils, and sparse food lying about.
"Toad? Oh, he's… actually Louise's familiar. He and I are looking for a meal." The professor casually stated.
It's… He's a familiar!? Siesta thought startlingly. Of course, Mary had shared as much (as unbelievable as it is), but receiving confirmation from a professor carried greater weight. She hardly understood the intricacies of binding familiars to one's service, but she felt certain that having an elf–even if far removed–as one is unheard of.
Marteau pivoted his head to the green creature, the small thing sounding another slew of gibberish though toward Pierre, the young man growing increasingly nervous as he backed himself into a corner. "And what exactly does he eat?" The head chef asked.
Jean blinked then stated unconvincingly, "I… suppose whatever he desires."
The thing started hobbling to Siesta and Mary, both the young women taking several steps back, now less afraid than before. Besides the ruckus… he caused earlier against the door, the creature hadn't done anything to harm them. Its small stature made him seem harmless, but she wouldn't be so easily persuaded. The maid had heard of the great, devastating powers the elves wield. She wouldn't take exception, at least not yet.
Come to think of it, why didn't it just tear open the door? She thought.
The small creature spoke a few unintelligible words and gestured to… her food. It was a sparse piece of baguette and a bowl of bovine stew, remnants of today's evening meal for the faculty and students.
Siesta was still uncertain on how to respond, fear gripping at her mind. "Mary, what does it want?" She asked for guidance.
Suddenly, as before with the Professor, several ideas took the black-haired maid.
"Maybe it's… hungry?" Mary trailed, witnessing Siesta remove herself and stroll to her meal. She gently lifted the bowl and bread, placing the contents on a nearby tray, then lifting said tray down to the floor and before the creature, much to its satisfaction.
Siesta was about to retrieve clean utensils, only to stop as the not-elf lifted the bowl and proceeded to down its contents. Its impromptu walking stick had been dropped, clattering against nearby shelving.
The maids and Marteau gave her a curious look, Jean Colbert a nod of approval as though she had done the correct thing. "Siesta, really now!?" The chef chided in annoyance.
Red stretched across her features as she tried to defend herself. "I-it looked… I… It… just seemed like the right thing to do."
A soft burp signaled that the creature was finished, letting the bowl clatter to the tray as it took to the bread.
The chef continued, unperturbed by its rudeness, "I suppose you'll need more?" He asked the maid.
Siesta shook her head, "I was about done anyways."
"Good, because none of us are going back to the cold rooms," he claimed, referring to him and the other chefs. He turned to Jean, "I have just one bowl left, if you so care…"
Jean, while casually observing the scene, didn't immediately respond. He grew fixated on a particular rune etched on the small thing's right hand. It appeared different to most familiar runes, very different.
"What? Oh, yes that will suffice," the professor answered, strolling forward and kneeling down before the not-elf. "Would you let me see your right hand?" he asked him, gesturing to the appendage.
The creature had assumed the professor gestured to the piece of bread it held, and it did not feel like sharing. Twisting away, it made a loud noise of protest.
"Is it… can it speak?" Pierre asked, speaking the minds of the maids and the other chef.
Having forgotten about the translation spell, Colbert stood tall again. "It appears there is a language barrier," the mage claimed as he shifted his staff.
"Are you really certain that noise is speech?" Marteau asked.
Jean did not entertain the rhetorical question, beginning the quick incantation. The wind spell quickly fell over the not-elf as an invisible blanket, causing it to react uncomfortably. He was certain the spell (and those like it) were harmless, which made its exaggerated twitching surprising. Is it sensitive to magic? He thought.
"Stop, stop!" the creature spoke.
The maids were again shocked, Marteau and the others less so.
Colbert began again with a different question, "Can you understand me?"
It rubbed at its forehead as though trying to banish a headache. "Mmmmmmm…" the creature, hummed, managing to take another bite of its remaining morsel. "Understand enough to ask for more food, I do."
"Is it supposed to… talk like that?" Pierre asked.
"My speech is of no concern, yes?" he mocked the chef, mouth full of the last bite of baguette.
For the briefest of moments, Jean had also believed the translation spell had been faulty. He had failed the spell roughly 5 times before, the most infamous from a meeting with the Queen's retinue and delegate's from Albion.
The young man blanched, afraid that having offended it would somehow cause him great harm. It had taken notice of this, laughing from his throat, "Great fear, I cause you, hmmm?"
"Just what in the Founder's headache are you?" Marteau muttered, his voice edging on irritation as the thing continued to make a disgrace of his kitchen floor.
The underhanded insult had put everyone on edge, and Jean thought to immediately correct that tone. "What my friend here means to ask is if you're an elf."
It didn't pay any attention. Hobbling to Mary as it made another request, "Your meal, I must have. Give it to me, if you would."
The head chef wasn't having it. Before Mary could answer he interjected, waving his hand, "Professor, this is utter disrespect! It's one thing to bring the thing here, and another to have it feast off the floor at our expense! I care less if it's an elf or a rat. It had its food, now get it out!"
"Marteau!" one of the chefs protested, more out of fear for the man's safety.
The maids and two other chefs returned to their state of terror, uncertain of what would happen next.
Instead of its wrath they feared, the creature simply laughed. "An elf or a rat, I am not. What I am is hungry, and feed me you must! Bring me to this place, one of you has, away from my home and meal. A certain price, that brings." While it phrased it under a jovial pretense, the last sentence came across as ominous to his audience.
The head chef grabbed a nearby broom and started approaching the not-elf. "Then dine with the rest of the nobles. Now git you! Out! Out!"
"Much anger, there is in you-nonono aaaaAAAH!" the creature unhelpfully added just before bracing the broom's impact.
Professor Colbert hastily stepped between them, hand and staff raised. "I'll have it removed, there's no need for escalation. I'll still need that soup, however."
Marteau held the broom high, then lowered it. "The two of you will wait outside. Pierre!"
The chef hastily ran for the stew pot, gathering a nearby container and baguette for the professor and the thing.
Siesta and the others still stood in shock, the audacity of Marteau and their imagined, impending doom still in their minds.
…
This is going to be a terribly long night, isn't it? she thought.
Updates to this story are posted on Space Battles forum, under RainEStar3's Louise Summons series. Go check out his work as well.
Next chapter will be posted soon.