Arthur tossed another cherrywood log onto the smoldering flame in the small smokehouse. The meat would be ready by dinner time, a long slow smoked brisket that he was sure the elves would enjoy. Human cuisines tended to be meatier than their native dishes, but they always begged him to cook for them during his scant time at Tyrael’s observatory at his normal size.

He wiped sweat from his brow and walked back to the towering dome at the top of the large hill. It was the only dwelling for miles, an elaborate and beautiful mansion with a small barn and vegetable patch at the bottom of the rise. The true gem of Tyrael’s home though, was the massive telescope in the domed structure on top of it.

He wondered idly if Tyrael would be spending the night looking through it, or if he might have the opportunity for a turn himself. Tyrael, being a mage, was connected to the stars in a way he, as a mere man, didn’t quite understand. Still, she did let him use the telescope when she or her apprentices weren’t, and he’d enjoyed gazing at the heavens, an opportunity never afforded to him at home in the Human Empire.

He was wrapped up in his thoughts when he stepped into the mansion, almost running into the elven apprentice carrying a stack of books.

“Lookout!” Elwyn shouted, tumbling over him, her books flying to the floor. His own cry of surprise was muffled as her breasts blocked his view, and the elf’s body pinned him to the floor easily no matter how much he struggled.

“Arthur?” the elf asked, slowly getting up. She giggled as she realized he was not quite as big as he should have been. “Did Tina steal a little of your height away?” she asked in mock sympathy.

“A little,” he said with a weak smile as they both stood up, collecting the apprentice mage’s books.

Elwyn and Tina were the only two apprentices studying with Tyrael for the moment, and he often found himself at their mercies when the older mage was away on business. Not that he minded of course, and he couldn’t help but grin as he looked up at the brown-haired elf. Like most of them she had an almost regal looking face, with pointed ears poking out of her almost impossibly silky looking hair.

“Tyrael is usually pretty strict about not reducing you on your big days,” Elwyn muttered, “I don’t know if she’s going to like this.”

“It had to be done,” the other elf mage said, grinning as she walked over to them, “it was disgusting, a human looking down on me, an elf! I had to make him smaller!” Tina, he’d learned, had a rebellious streak of sorts, often testing the boundaries of Tyrael’s rules. She’d also done some manner of spell to render her own hair a vibrant pink. She pulled Arthur close to herself, wrapping arms around him and giving him a lustful grin, “besides, our little human likes being tiny and pathetic, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a goofy grin.

In truth he’d fantasized about being shrunk and toyed with by elves for years. Where other humans read stories of the war between the two races and elven treatment of human prisoners with fear, he’d always felt something else… When Tyrael and her apprentices had found themselves in his home town of Gustavsberg, he’d all but begged to leave with them.

For Tyrael’s part she’d been delighted to have a human to take home, and he’d lived with her in her observatory for the past year, serving her and her apprentices in any way he could.

“You are such a strange human,” Tina scowled, “you’re supposed to be afraid!”

“Leave Arthur alone!” Elwyn said, playfully coming to his other side, “he’s just more in touch with his true nature than most humans!”

They were all interrupted by the mansion door opening, and a tired looking Tyrael walked in, her blue mage robes glittering slightly. She sighed as she kicked off her boots, pulling her robe off and hanging it up and revealing a plain brown tunic underneath. In spite of how tired she was her long blonde hair seemed impossibly clean and straight, and while there was a slight sheen of sweat on her from her travels in the late summer, she looked immaculate.

“Hello everyone, I’ve-“ she frowned as she saw Arthur was the perfect height to stare directly into her chest. “Arthur,” she said calmly, “why are you so short?”

“Maybe you got bigger?” he joked.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, “Doubtful…” She gestured for him to follow, and he suddenly felt tugged, as if on an invisible leash as her telekinesis gently pushed him. “Come Arthur,” she said mildly, “It’s been a long day, I want you to attend to me.”

He followed her, tugged by the invisible threads as they walked to Tyrael’s master bedroom, leaving the two apprentices to smirk knowingly at him as they went. With a flick of her wrist the elven mage opened the doors to her room, revealing the soft four poster bed, bookshelves, and the mage’s writing desk and crystal ball.

Atop her nightstand was what at first appeared to be a dollhouse, but upon closer inspection revealed impossibly precise design, and furniture and lodgings inside fit for a tiny human. Arthur spent many nights in “his” home, waking to the grinning face of his elven mistress, stretching like a sunrise outside his window. Of course he hadn’t slept there for the past two nights, when he was at full size he took one of the plain apprentice quarters on the far side of the mansion.

With a sigh Tyrael flopped herself into a chair next to the bookcase, gesturing to her feet. Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, he knelt and slowly pulled her socks off, revealing her pale, soft feet. An odd stale floral smell wafted off of them. One of the things he’d learned about elves was that their sweat carried a soft flowery smell to it, and it filled his nose as he gently rubbed Tyrael’s feet, causing the elf to sigh contentedly.

“You really shouldn’t let my apprentices shrink you on your full-size days,” Tyrael muttered, closing her eyes as she relaxed. “I’ll have to punish Tina… it was her, wasn’t it?”

“W-We were just goofing around,” Arthur insisted, “and she didn’t shrink me much.”

“I’m sure she took advantage of your current size to pin you to the bed and give you the amazon treatment,” Tyrael said with a small smile, causing Arthur to start as she guessed exactly what had happened.

“I uh… might have egged her on a bit,” Arthur said sheepishly, “please don’t punish her.”

“I insist on keeping you at your normal size for two days every week as a way to help you, to help us, keep things in perspective,” Tyrael drawled, playfully lifting her slightly damp foot and dragging her toe across his cheek.

“I’m not sure I follow,” he said, smirking as Tyrael’s foot lifted up, ruffling his hair and marring it with the elf’s sweat. “I love being tiny, and I know you and your apprentices-“

“Yes, we elves have a certain natural inclination for shrinking and toying with others,” Tyrael mused, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling for a moment, “given the prevalence across the world’s elven cultures for reducing you humans I suspect the desire is innate, a divine decision by the goddess that sculpted us perhaps.”

“So what’s the harm?” Arthur asked with a grin, “why not simply leave me tiny for weeks, months…”

Tyrael gave him a soft smile, “because Arthur, as much fun as it is to keep you small and do all manner of lewd things with you, to treat you like a bug who is a slave to my whims… you are not actually my pet, you are my friend.” She sighed, leaning back as he gripped her foot, rubbing it again and squeezing her arches just right. “Having you clomp around here a head taller than all of us a few days a week helps remind all of us, you included, that we’re all people.”

“I suppose so,” he admitted.

Tyrael smiled, “and besides… you have your uses,” she said playfully, “was that smoked beef I smelled coming up the garden path?”

“It was,” he said with a grin.

“Delightful,” Tyrael said, standing up. “Since today’s attempt to stay big was a dud, I’ll have to use you to freshen up before dinner…”

Arthur watched as the world seemed to stretch and the familiar tingle of magic being applied to him coated his body. He dwindled quickly, watching his clothing billow around him like a circus tent, slowly falling around him.  

The elf’s hand stretched down towards him, slender fingers that were still thicker than his legs curling around his body as she lifted him out of his pooled clothing. He was brought up to the smug and grinning face of his elven mistress, a massive smiling cliff face that dominated his vision as her thumb playfully stroked the back of his head.

While he’d been fumbling in his own shirt, Tyrael had stripped down to her underwear, and she lifted her arm while he looked on, exposing a hairless armpit glistening with sweat.

“Whew,” she laughed, “I do so hate traveling during the summer months…”

Arthur was suddenly plunged headfirst into her sweaty pit, the stale floral smell of the elf’s sweat assaulting his senses as she slowly dragged his head along her skin, using his hair to mop up stray droplets of sweat. A salty taste filled his mouth as he coughed, letting the warm perspiration flood in, stinging his eyes and nose slightly as he was marinated in Tyrael’s scent.

“Ah, that feels so nice,” Tyrael sighed, looking pleased at her now dry armpit, and her now soaked and disheveled tiny man. “Now the other one!”

Arthur’s world lurched slightly as he was slowly rolled into Tyrael’s other palm. Her fingers once again coiled around him, holding him tight as he was brought to the elf’s other armpit. He grunted as his face was once again dragged roughly across Tyrael’s smooth pit, gathering up every drop while she giggled at his expression. His hair was thoroughly soaked now, mussed and sticky from the elf’s salty sweat. He could feel the heat of the day radiating off her as she used him to clean herself, and when she was satisfied he was left soaked, his hair sticking to his face and his mouth and nose still full of the salty wet taste.

Tyrael pinched his arm, dangling him in front of her giggling face as she took in his soaked form, “You did a wonderful job Arthur,” she teased, lifting her arm playfully to let him see his “handiwork.” “Look,” she said, “nice and dry!” She leaned in and sniffed him, wrinkling her nose playfully, “you seem to have gotten a little dirty though…”

“Yes Mistress,” he managed, blinking the flood of her sweat out of his eyes. The smell of lilac was almost overpowering, a marking of ownership, a reminder that even the smallest and most insignificant parts of the elf’s body could easily overpower his senses and dominate his world.

“How does that taste?” she asked curiously, “I know that we elves smell… different, to humans, but does it-“

“Your sweat smells like flowers,” he managed, grimacing as he licked his lips, “but it definitely tastes like sweat.”

Tyrael smirked, “a pity…” her gaze drifted down between his legs, where his erection was standing proudly at attention. “I wonder,” she mused, “do pheromones have a greater effect on you at that size, or are you simply the sort of deviant who enjoys the torments I put you through?”

He fought a laugh, “I uh… suppose I’m a deviant Misstress Tyrael!”

“I will enjoy cooking up some experiments to determine the truth of the matter,” Tyrael murmured. She glanced out her bedroom window, seeing the slowly rising white trail of Arthur’s smoker at the edge of the estate. She turned back to him, “Tell me human, how long until my dinner is ready?”

“Uh… a few more hours,” he said, smiling weakly.

“I suppose you can’t rush good food,” Tyrael said with a wink, “but you won’t be needing your size back until then.”

She walked back over to her chair, collapsing into it while she gazed thoughtfully at the tiny human dangling from her fingertips. Slowly she lowered him down to her underwear, pulling the white cotton fabric away from her skin and giving him a view of her bare womanhood, glistening in anticipation of his arrival. She released his arm, letting him flail as he fell through the air, landing with a soft thump on the inside of the outstretched panties.

Tyrael slowly released her grip on her panties, letting the fabric carry Arthur up against her womanhood. She groaned, her pointed ears twitching slightly as she reached down to press through the panties, moving him into position.

Arthur could smell the flowery scent of her stale sweat soaked into the fabric around him, combining with what he’d picked up from her pits moments before. The smell of her arousal was beginning to waft over him too, a tangy musk that invited him to Tyrael’s slit, a pink opening that was eager to swallow him up.

The elf’s soft womanhood welcomed him in, and he heard her rumbling sigh as he shoved his way deeper in. Idly she began toying with herself through the panties, rubbing her pearl slowly as the tiny human squirmed within her.

Arthur’s world was dark, warm, wet, and silky. He felt the sticky juices slide against his skin, lubricating him and slurping him further inside the elf’s womanhood. Every movement triggered sighs from outside, and he could hear Tyrael’s heartbeat as she toyed with herself, enjoying the way he struggled inside her.

Her juices were rising around him, bathing him in the sweet musky taste of the elf’s arousal. He couldn’t help but gasp himself as the contraction and quivering of the flesh around him brushed against his own erection, and he wondered how long he’d last in here without reaching climax himself. A final feathery brush against him caused him to go rigid, crying out in pleasure as the motion of the elf’s womanhood finished him off.

“Wonderful,” Tyrael sighed as felt a wave of bliss coming of herself at the same time. She felt him start to work his way out, and just chuckled, crossing her legs and blocking his path. “Oh no you don’t,” she murmured, feeling him squirm as the little space he had disappeared. “You’re staying in there for a while…” Tyrael flicked her finger, causing a book to fly off the shelf, lazily floating through the air and into her hands.

“It’s good to be back home,” the elven mage said happily.

…

“Oh gods it’s so good!” Tina moaned, cutting herself another slice of the smoked brisket.

“What did you say you did back in the human lands?”

“I owned a candle shop,” he said with a smile, laying a plate of meat in front of Tyrael. She’d kindly washed him off in her sink, returning him to his full size so he could finish preparing their meal.

“Well, you missed your calling,” the pink haired elf muttered around a mouthful of brisket.

“Can we reduce Arthur back down after dinner!?” Elwyn asked eagerly, “I had some charms I wanted to try on him!”

“Uh… what sorts of charms?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow as he cut into his own dinner.

“Why spoil the surprise?” Elwyn giggled.

“I suppose there’s no harm,” Tyrael said with a smile, “but I want to make it a little bit of a lesson.”

“Are shrinking spells really that hard?” Arthur asked, “none of you ever seem to have any trouble with them.”

“Not hard at all,” Tyrael said with a smile as she reached for a goblet of wine, “but I think dear Elwyn here should practice performing one under real world conditions.”

…

Arthur hefted his musket, one of the few possessions he’d brought with him when he’d come to live with Tyrael.

“Uh, Tyrael,” he called, “I’m not entirely sure I feel comfortable with this!”

“Just relax Arthur!” Tyrael called from a few dozen feet away, “I’ll intervene if things look to be going south!”

He shifted uneasily as Elwyn stood across from him, grinning, “I can do this Arthur, it’s not dangerous at all!”

“You’re asking me to point a loaded gun at you!” he protested, “this goes against a lot of what they teach you about firearms in the militia!”

“I’m pretty sure that your militia spends a great deal of time telling you that you should point guns at elves,” Tyrael chuckled. “That’s why I find this to a be a suitable test of my apprentices’ abilities, stopping a bullet with one’s mind is critical to survival for an Elven mage in this day and age.”

“I suppose,” Arthur muttered.

“Ah, I do remember when it was just crossbows and the occasional catapult to worry about,” Tyrael said wistfully, “they weren’t as loud… it was easier to focus.”

“All right, let me have it!” Elwyn said, grinning as Arthur sighed and raised the musket again.

*Boom*

There was a flash as a magical shield popped into being just in front of Elwyn, but then she squeaked in surprise and tumbled backwards.

“ELWYN!” Arthur shouted, dropping his gun and sprinting towards the trio of elves.

Elwyn sat up, a dazed look on her face, then a sudden predatory grin. Arthur had only a second for a sigh of relief when her spell lanced out at him, causing his world to spin as he shrank into the towering grass. He looked around at the suddenly shaded world, forcing himself to his feet as he took in the jungle of the estate’s front lawn.

“Got ‘em!” Elwyn crowed excitedly, standing up and blocking out the sun. She quickly went to her knees, gently brushing the grass aside as she looked for her victim.

“That was a decent recovery,” Tyrael said mildly, causing the ground to shake as she came to her immense apprentices side, “but you should be able to both block the bullet and shrink an attacker in the same spell.” She chuckled as she looked down at the grass, spotting the stunned bug sized human, “Most humans will not hesitate nor show concern for you like our dear Arthur, a followup shot or a bayonet would have been the end of you.”

Arthur felt a pair of soft fingertips the size of his body pinch him, lifting his flailing form up out of the grass like a captured beetle. The three smiling elven faces crowded around him like faraway mountains, their expressions growing smug as they took him in.

“Now what should I do with my captured human?” Elwyn taunted, “Hey Tyrael, you fought in the Human Conquest, what did you usually do with these guys?”

“Treat them as respected prisoners of war of course,” Tyrael said in an amused tone.

Arthur snorted, “Yes you started treating us well after you started losing battles!” he shouted.

“You couldn’t win a battle against my big toe at this size,” Elwyn mocked. She turned to Tyrael with a giggle, “Mistress Tyrael, would it be okay if I showed the prisoner to his cell?”

“By all means!” The archmage laughed, “Goodbye Arthur!” she said with a taunting wave.

Arthur gulped, already knowing what was coming next as Elwyn slowly kicked off her boot. Elven mages typically wore tall leather boots, occasionally with stamped patterns around the mouth, usually indicators of their school of magic or family lineage. As Elwyn giggled and lowered him down towards the mouth of her own footwear he saw the familiar shooting stars of Tyrael’s own house crest, followed by the wave of the hot and humid lilac smell of stale elven sweat.

It was far from the first time he’d ended up in an elf’s boot, but he felt his manhood rising as the elf teasingly realesed him, letting him tumble down the dark tunnel. He hit the padding with a soft thud, and quickly forced himself to his feet.

“Meet your new jailor human!” Elwyn said, slowly sliding her socked foot into the boot and closing him off from the light outside. As her foot slipped lower the smell of her sweat became heavier, the air more humid. In the dark Arthur turned and scrambled along the bottom of the insole, trying to reach the open space of the toe before the elf’s sock collided with him, pinning him to the bottom. “Caught again!” Elwyn laughed, scrunching her socked toes over his body hard enough to make him grunt.

He felt himself growing hard as the elf’s toes casually played with him, and he gasped as the musty sock overhead coated him with a thick layer of grime from the elf’s foot. The elves at Tyrael’s estate were very aware of his tastes, and he could just barely make out a rumbling giggle overhead as the socked toes padded over him, searching for, and finding, his manhood.

“Ha!” Elwyn laughed, all but skipping as the trio of elves walked back up to the manor, “he loves it in there, no doubt he’ll spill his seed by the time we reach the front doors!”

“Mistress Tyrael,” Tina asked, “if being our plaything makes Arthur so happy, why do the humans resist us so? Surely they’d be happier small, like him?”

“Arthur is… unusual among humans,” Tyrael chuckled, “most wouldn’t find an hour in an elf’s boot as enjoyable as he does.”

“They surely would!” Elwyn insisted, “imagine if all humans had a luxurious dollhouse to live in like he did, they wouldn’t’ be nearly as aggressive!”

“And if a giant came out of the northern mountains and asked you to spend your life in a dollhouse on her dresser, would you go?” Tyrael asked, somewhat amused.

Elwyn frowned, “N-No of course not, but it’s not the same!” she insisted. “Our goddess Turis smiles on us and granted us our magic so we could reduce humans to their proper place!”

“That’s one interpretation of the commandment to guide the mortal races,” Tyrael said with a sigh.

Buried deep within Elwyn’s boot, coated in the rich lilac scent of Elven sweat, Arthur couldn’t make out any of the debate. His world was the playfully wrestling match against a socked foot that could pin him with a single casual wiggle of a big toe. He gritted his teeth as he was slowly shifted into the very point of the boot’s toe, doubled over as the elf gently nudged him between the legs. The world lurched as the elves began walking back to the mansion, and with every footfall a wave of pleasure rocked through his body.

Is she doing this on purpose? He wondered, spasming uselessly against the socked digit as he fought the rising wave of bliss.

In the end it didn’t matter, when Arthur shouted his pleasure in the darkness of her boot, Elwyn wouldn’t hear him anyway.

…

Arthur murmured, turning in his sleep as he felt a massive digit poke him. With a scowl he sat up, realizing that he wasn’t in his doll sized bed, but was laying on the still lilac-sweat scented insole of Elwyn’s boot. The thing poking him was the column of Tyrael’s finger, easily as long as his body, his gaze traced up to see the grinning archmage looking down at him through the open top of the leather footwear.

“Enjoying yourself?” she teased, pinching him between her fingers and lifting him out of the leather prison. “Tell me, is a life spent at the feet of us wicked elves all you imagined?”

“And more,” Arthur admitted with a weak grin.

“The apprentices have gone to bed,” Tyrael said, “if you wish, I’ll return you to your own, or you could come to the observatory and keep me company.”

Arthur paused, “Might I… look through the telescope?”

“I’m sure I can spare it for a few minutes,” Tyrael said, standing up and tucking him between her warm breasts. He let himself slide between the soft orbs as Tyrael walked, gathering her notebook, ink, and quillpen to take notes on her observations of the sky.

…

The observatory was a vast open room built into the highest tower in the center of the mansion. The domed room held a massive telescope, with glass of ancient dwarven make and elvish runes carved up and down along the sides, occasionally glowing as Tyrael stared through the eyepiece, muttering spells under her breath to activate various enhancements and view the stars in different ways.

Arthur sat snuggly between her breasts, looking up at the peeks of the sky between the observatories slit roof, the pale vapor of Tyrael’s steaming teacup wafting up and filling his nose with the rich crisp smell of the herbal brew the elf sipped during long nights at the telescope.

“And the Viper constellation has moved into an eldritch holding pattern,” Tyrael muttered, scribbling notes, “Star Cath in particular seems quite alive as of late…” With a sigh she flipped the journal closed, leaning back from the lens and grinning down at the tiny human between her breasts.

“That is all that I need to observe for tonight,” she said with a pleased smile, “would you care to gaze through the telescope?”

“Yes!” Arthur said, his excitement causing the mage’s breasts to ripple as he all but leapt up into her grip. Tyrael’s gentle fingers closed around him, slowly lowering him to her seat. She flicked her wrist, and in the blink of an eye he was at full size again, or almost full size, rather he found himself at Tyrael’s own height.

“I don’t want to adjust the telescope or the chair,” she explained with a chuckle.

Arthur eagerly put his eye down to the massive telescope’s eyepiece, taking in the burning blue star that Tyrael had been observing. The enchanted telescoped zoomed out at his mere thought, and he marveled at the entirety of the constellation. He zoomed in another of the celestial bodies, there was a low groan as the entire observatory rotated slightly, allowing him to gaze at the small planets orbiting one of the dim red suns.

“Those are other worlds, aren’t they?” Arthur whispered.

“Yes,” Tyrael said softly, smiling as she clasped her hands behind her back.

“Do people live on them?” he asked quietly, lifting his gaze from the eyepiece for a moment, “are there… other peoples, races, in the heavens?”

Tyrael shrugged, “I haven’t seen any yet, but the universe is vast… I like to think that somewhere out there, the gods have another surprise for us.”

She thought a moment, then smiled, “Take a look at this,” she held up a finger, casually twirling it and causing the massive dome to shift once more, the low groan rumbling through Arthur’s body as she searched for one of her favorite heavenly bodies. Another flick of her finger and the telescope adjusted, the runes glowing as it homed in on the object. “Look!” she said eagerly.

Arthur peered into the eyepiece, then gasped. The resplendent colors of the comet shimmered, radiating outward in a fluorescent rainbow that almost brought a tear to his eye as he tried to comprehend their beauty. He stared at it for a moment, trying to find the words.

“What is it?” he asked finally.

“Dibella’s comet,” Tyrael said with a smile, “it enters our planet’s skies once every one hundred and eighty years… and on the one day it’s visible, they say that conflicts are resolved, and nobody dies.”

“When did it last appear?” Arthur asked curiously.

“The day the elves and your empire signed our peace treaty, over sixty years ago now,” Tyrael said. “I was Emperor Gustav’s prisoner of course, his men captured me at the Field of Thunder, the great defeat of the Elven army…” she chuckled, “I know it’s mere history to you, many in the Elven Realms are still in a state of shock over it.”

“And you?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tyrael shrugged, “I already had my doubts about our attempted subjugation of humanity before then, my time as a prisoner of your army settled them.” She smirked, “I still have the same desires as any elf, as you well know, but I no longer believe forcibly shrinking and enslaving you all is the right course… or even possible at this point.”

The two were quiet for a few moments, then Tyrael came to his side, “This comet,” she whispered, looking into the eyepiece itself, “you simply must see it when it comes to our own skies, it can best be seen at the higher mountains-“

“Well I won’t be around for it,” he chuckled.

Tyrael frowned, “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “Ah… you said it comes once every one hundred eighty years, and it last came sixty years ago… I won’t be with you when it returns.”

“Right,” Tyrael breathed, “yes… of course, I’m… sorry.” She looked away, “I remember when I heard Emperor Gustav had died… it seemed liked I’d only just met him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur said with a smile. He pointed to the telescope, “I’ve already seen so much since coming here, every day is a wild and strange fantasy for me, my life is like a dream Tyrael. If I only ever get to see the comet through this telescope… well that’s more than most men will ever get.”

Tyrael smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “I suppose…”

With a small hand gesture Arthur found himself staring up at the tower sized Tyrael, once more reduced to a handful of inches in her chair. She giggled, her mirth returning as she positioned herself over him, her perfectly round bottom visible through the simple cloth pants she wore while stargazing.

“I have a few other observations I’d like to make,” she said teasingly, “and you’re in my seat human.”

Arthur reflexively raised his hands as Tyrael slowly began to lower herself onto the chair, he could feel the heat from her body before she made contact, and he grunted as the massive elven cheeks came down, pinning him against the seat cushion. He wheezed as the air was knocked from his lungs, and he squirmed feebly as the elf’s enormous behind shifted over him, getting more comfortable.

Tyrael sighed happily, enjoying the squirming feeling of the human beneath her. She’d increased his durability slightly with that particular shrinking spell, though not so much he wouldn’t feel each movement. She ground her bottom against the chair again, biting her lip as a shiver went up her spine.

Arthur, you’re the best human there is, she thought dreamily. She glanced at the telescope, and frowned. She flipped through her journal of observations, then with a thought began to rotate the observatory to a different set of constellations. Where the western sky was associated with elemental magics at this time of year, she found herself observing the North, where the stars were said to portend darker fortunes, and give insight to more sinister spells...

…

Arthur tossed and turned in his full-sized bed. It had been a week since he and Tyrael had observed the comet, and the mansion had returned to a normal state of affairs with its mistress’s return. For his part Arthur was at full size tonight, and he reflected that his dollhouse bed was a lot more comfortable than the one in the apprentice’s chambers.

There was a knock at his door, startling him, and he sat up with a start as Elwyn barged in, “Arthur!” she hissed, “S-Something’s wrong!”

“There’s something cold in the air!” Tina said, joining the other elf. She shivered, and Arthur’s eyes went wide as she could see her breath mist in front of her mouth as though it were winter.

“I… I don’t feel it,” Arthur murmured, sliding out of bed.

“You’re not in tune with magic,” Tina said, “T-That might be a good thing, depending on what it is… get your boomstick and your sword!”

“Where’s Tyrael?” he asked, kneeling to grab his musket from beneath the mattress.

“She wasn’t in her chambers!” Elwyn squeaked, “W-We’re not sure what to do!”

Arthur chewed his lip, “all right, if it’s something that’s after magical beings… just stay behind me.” He buckled his sword to his belt, it wasn’t a weapon he was particularly skilled with, but the elves seemed a little reassured as he moved in front of them and began walking down the hall. He felt worry begin to knot his stomach, If something got Tyrael, what chance do the three of us have against it?

The three passed the front door, the moonlight shining through the windows, when a trio of short sharp knocks caused them all to freeze. Slowly they all looked to the front door, and Arthur gulped as he slowly cocked his flintlock musket, letting the *click* ring through the suddenly cold air.

“Open it!” Elwyn whispered, readying a glowing blue fireball in her hand as Tina did the same.

Arthur pulled the door open, leaping back and readying the gun with a shout.

“Stop!” Tyrael’s voice boomed, startling him and the two elven apprentices.

“Mistress!” Elwyn said, “There’s-“ she stopped, taking in the figure at the archmage’s side.

It was a human man, or at least he looked like one at first, but the longer Arthur stared at that pale skin, the jet black hair… by the time he saw the red eyes gleaming in the moonlight he had an idea of what manner of “man” this was.

“Lady Tyrael,” the man said in an affable tone, “clasping his hands behind him, “do you greet all of your guests likes this?” His clothing was ostentatious, a rich deep red that matched his eyes, with gilded buttons and a ruffled shirt that would have been long out of fashion in Imperial circles.

“My apologies Lord Varnay,” Tyrael said in a neutral tone, “Elwyn, Tina, Arthur, please relax, Lord Varnay is here at my summons.”

“Did you look him in the eye!?” Arthur hissed.

“I am not under hypnosis,” Tyrael said with a small smile.

“Why would you invite… him here?” Tina asked, hesitantly dissipating her fireball.

“The good Mage-General wished to discuss several schools of magic that are not well known to your people,” Varny said with a smug grin, “and speaking of invitations…”

“I invite you into my home,” Tyrael said in a firm voice, “on the condition that you harm no one under my roof, and leave when asked.”

“Accepted,” Varnay said, stepping over the threshold into the house. He chuckled as he saw the two elven apprentices shiver, “fret not whelps, I’ve no interest in you.”

Without a word he seemed to glide through the house, going to the room’s foyer with his footsteps as silent as the grave. The three of them turned to Tyrael, who had a grim look on her face.

“Elwyn, Tina,” she snapped, “swear on your magic that you will tell no one of this meeting.”

“But-“ Elwyn started.

“Swear it!” Tyrael hissed, a strange look of desperation coming over her features.

“We swear it,” the two said together. The air seemed to shimmer as the binding magical oath took effect.

Tyrael glanced at Arthur wearily, “My lips are sealed,” he said uncertainly, “but… can I ask why you’ve invited a vampire into your home?”

“Not now,” Tyrael said firmly, “return to bed, all of you… We can speak in the morning!”

The three of them spared one final glance at the elven archmage, then slowly withdrew back to their quarters. Tyrael sighed as they went, then steeled herself as she turned to the foyer. Her guest had already procured a wine glass for himself, and had helped himself to a bottle from the rack behind her couch.

“I must admit lady Tyrael,” Varnay drawled, taking a sip of the deep red vintage, “I share your associate’s curiosity… and was that a human by the way? Here?” He chuckled, “Someone’s been a naughty elf.”

“Elven magical research has delved deeply into a great many subjects,” Tyrael said, sitting across from him, “but there is one realm which we know almost nothing about relative to other races… one we’ve never needed.” She forced herself to look Varnay in the eye, “Immortality.”

Varnay’s red eyes went wide, and then he smiled, revealing his pointed fangs as he chuckled softly, “Well my dear… we’ve much to discuss then.”

Arthur slowly stirred the eggs in the frying pan, glancing back at Elwyn and Tina, who sat silently in the kitchen. They’d all had fitful sleep, none of them quite sure what to make of their mistress’s midnight meeting with one of the undead. With a sigh he spooned the scrambled eggs onto a series of plates, laying them next to sausages he’d prepared, then took the breakfasts to the table, laying them in front of the two elven apprentices, one for himself, and one for Tyrael, who had not yet appeared to join them.

The three of them almost jumped as the kitchen door opened, and Tyrael briskly walked in to join them. She yawned idly, seeming a little more tired than usual for this time of the morning, and where she usually had a grace about her, it was dispelled as plopped into her chair, wolfishly devouring her meal without even greeting them.

“M-Mistress?” Tina asked nervously.

Tyrael blinked, looking up as if seeing them all for the first time. She reached for a napkin, dabbing the grease from her face a moment before sighing. She still looked a little tired, but her familiar smile came over her face.

“My apologies,” she muttered, “I was up late with my… guest.”

“And what would a man like that have to say to you?” Arthur asked.

“Where did he even come from?” Elwyn asked.

“Lord Varnay’s history in these lands is longer even than the our own,” Tyrael said, “his presence in the Elven Realms has been something of an open secret to the higher levels of the magical community…” She sighed, “as far as our own historians can tell, he was one of the few humans who became a vampire on his own, rather than being turned by another.” She chuckled a moment, “it should tell you something of his magical knowledge that even the most ardently anti-human members of the Empress’s court fear to confront him.”

“And what exactly did you need from him?” Arthur asked quietly. “I don’t know how it is here in the Elven Realms, but such creatures are not highly regarded where I come from.”

“And with good reason,” Tyrael muttered, “but I had little choice. Finding the answers I needed could have taken me years, decades, of research.” She gently stirred her eggs a moment, “Elwyn, Tina, Arthur, prepare your things. We’re going on a journey…”

“A quest!?” Tina asked excitedly.

“Yes,” Tyrael said with a small smile.

“Aren’t all expeditions supposed to be approved by the Mage-General’s Council?” Elwyn asked uncertainly.

“If they question it, we’re merely going over the border into the Human lands, for… sightseeing,” Tyrael said. She looked at Arthur and grinned, “We’ve got a native guide after all.”

“So whatever you want is somewhere in the Empire?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow, “and what exactly is it that we are after?”

“I had seen portents of something wicked in the stars,” Tyrael explained. She sighed dramatically, “long ago, before the Human Empire, before the Elves endeavored to carve our own realms, there was a human sorcerer who had mastered life and death, in his dark kingdom he conquered the veil and became Uzzuq, the first Lich. None of that foul breed that has come since has ever been so powerful.”

“Uzzuq is spoken of in the Empire as well,” Arthur said hesitantly, “but he’s been gone for thousands of years, he’s little more than a bedtime story now, surely?”

“Before he died, he crafted an artifact,” Tyrael said softly, “a powerful iron crown with a ruby gem at the top which would allow any who held it to command his armies and his power. It couldn’t be destroyed, so it was sealed in a great tomb by the ancient sorcerers and knights of that time. In the millennia since it was forgotten by mankind and even the elves.”

“I wouldn’t say forgotten,” Arthur muttered, “everyone has heard legends of Uzzuq’s tomb, and every few years some noble with too much time and money sets out to find it. It makes decent reading, but never amounts to much.”

“The stars warned me that the Lich’s Crown would soon be claimed,” Tyrael said, glancing around the table, “I summoned Varnay because he is one of the few beings in the world who could tell me the location of the tomb.”

“Should we make contact with someone in the Empire?” Arthur asked. “Perhaps get permission for this… expedition?”

“Ha!” Tina laughed, “if you tell the round ears they’re going to try to get to it before us and use it against our army or something! They’re so short sighted,” she glanced at Arthur and blushed, “present company excluded of course.”

“She’s right unfortunately,” Tyrael said, “I don’t want either the humans or our own Empress to get their hands on the contents of that tomb. I’ll take the crown and dispose of it myself… somehow.”

“D-Do you think such a thing is possible?” Elwyn stammered, “it’s said that the ancients couldn’t-“

“Spells and weapons have come a long way,” Tyrael said with a smile, “if all else fails, I’ll toss it in a volcano.”

“It seems risky to try to take something so powerful that’s in Imperial territory,” Arthur muttered.

She looked at him a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably as the archmage spoke again, “Trust me, the stakes of this particular mission are worth any risk… Arthur,” she said his name softly, her voice almost trailing off.

The four of them were silent a moment, and Arthur found himself suddenly excited, a quest… a real quest, me! he chuckled, and here I thought I’d live and die selling candles-

“These eggs are delightful,” Tyrael said suddenly, interrupting his train of thought, “but they could use something… else.”

“More salt?” he offered, “pepper sauce perhaps?”

Tyrael’s mouth just quirked in a smug smile, and his eyes filled with a white flash as the spell hit him. He saw his clothing billowing up around him, fluttering away and leaving him naked across the massive plain of the kitchen’s tile as the Elven archmage stood up. The ground shook with slight tremors as she approached, and he peered up in awe, she’d made him no more than an inch tall this time, and the tips of her fingers were larger than his entire body as she delicately pinched him, lifting him up to her face.

“It occurred to me when you described my… aroma, the other day,” Tyrael said with a smirk, “I don’t know if I’ve ever described to you the particular flavor that reduced humans seem to pick up…”

“Almonds,” Elwyn piped up.

“Definitely something nutty,” Tina agreed, “maybe just a little spicy?”

“Regardless of how you’d describe it,” the massive archmage thundered, gently releasing him over her plate, “I think it would go wonderfully with eggs.”

Arthur screamed as he flailed through the air, landing on the soft mountain of pale yellow eggs he’d cooked up for the elf’s breakfast. He sputtered as they filled his mouth, and he tried to climb his way through the fluffy surroundings and get his bearings. His stomach lurched as he was pulled into the air, several of the pillowy egg pieces falling around him as the fork underneath him lifted high.

He found himself face to face with a pair of luscious pink elven lips, Tyrael’s soft tongue slowly licking them as she anticipated the bite sized morsel of eggs he was mired in.

“I think I’ll keep Arthur to myself for the morning while you girls pack our things,” Tyrael said, playfully tilting the fork and watching Arthur struggle to stay on. “Once we get over the Human border, he’ll probably need to stay full sized, for most of the time at least.”

The massive cavern of the elf’s mouth opened, and the fork lurched forward, tipping slightly and letting Arthur tumble off with the chunks of scrambled egg onto Tyrael’s waiting tongue. The world went dark as her lips sealed behind him, and warm sticky saliva dripped from the roof of her mouth, quickly coating him as her tongue parsed the eggs for his tiny body. A rumbling groan of pleasure sent tremors through his world as her soft, wet, tongue pinned him against her cheek, eagerly lapping at him.

Tyrael took another few moments to savor her treat, letting her mouth slowly fill with spit as she leaned back in her chair. Finally, casually she slowly leaned her head back, swallowing with a loud gulp that echoed through the kitchen, allowing her shocked apprentices to watch her throat bulge ever so slightly for a moment before the tiny human slid down her throat.

Arthur felt the walls of the world compress around him as he was sent rocketing down her throat, landing in her stomach with a splash. He coughed as he swam to the surface, fighting the current as he was sloshed about with the rest of the elf’s breakfast. A faint blue glow illuminated him suddenly, allowing him to look around at the towering glistening walls as they slowly churned the meal.

She gave me a light just so I could see this, he realized, blinking in a mix of wonder, surprise, and just a little fear. He’d been in Tyrael’s mouth plenty of times of course, but this was the first time she’d ever swallowed him.

“That should keep Arthur busy for a few hours,” Tyrael said with a teasing smile as she gently patted her stomach.

“Uh, Mistress Tyrael,” Elwyn said uncertainly, “D-Didn’t you say that we were not allowed to swallow Arthur?”

Tyrael raised an eyebrow and smiled, “I did say you two weren’t allowed to, yes.” She reached for a napkin, dabbing at the bits of grease at the corner of her mouth as she stood up. “Now then, we’ll be leaving no later than noon, so ready your things!”

Inside her belly the waves of her stomach rolled Arthur about as he clung to a bit of sausage like a life raft, wondering how long he’d be trapped within the elf. 

…

The sun was high in the sky as Tina led four packhorses out to the front of the mansion, loaded with their things. Arthur’s own possessions were reduced to tiny size, kept in a simple leather pouch on the archmage’s belt as she mounted her own horse.

As the party set out she paused, feeling Arthur’s small form drifting listlessly inside her belly, with a smirk she held out her palm, and a blue shimmer of sparks appeared in the center. There was a small *pop* as the teleportation spell brought Arthur from her stomach into her hand, and she giggled at his disheveled look, soaked in the grime of her stomach, bits of half digested food sticking to his hair as he blinked in the sudden sunlight.

“T-That was new,” he stammered, smiling weakly.

“Yes, you had a lovely aftertaste that stayed with me all morning,” Tyrael said, “it wasn’t too traumatic, I hope?”

“No,” he laughed, “it was…” he chewed his lip a moment, searching for the words, and Tyrael fought a smirk as she saw the naked human’s excitement between his legs.

“Exciting?” she inquired, “you truly are a unique human…” She leaned her face in close, letting his vision be filled by her smug grin, “You know Arthur… back when reduced humans were more common in the elven realms, there were recipes involving tiny men like you…”

Arthur felt a sense of uneasiness, a sudden sense that like a quivering mouse before a hawk, he was in the grip of his natural predator… and then he saw Tyrael’s eyes, and the feeling was gone. He forced himself to his feet, balancing himself in her palm as the mixed gunk of her stomach dried on his skin.

“We’ll have to test some of them,” he said, crossing his arms almost defiantly.

Tyrael giggled, “You are one of a kind Arthur.” She flicked her wrist, and he shimmered again, a fresh floral smell coming over him as the magic swept away the filth that had coated him. She glanced back at the fourth horse, “Now, as you know, humans are still frowned upon in the elven realms, so until we reach your homeland, I’ll have to keep you hidden.”

Arthur grinned, he had an idea he knew exactly where Tyrael would “hide” him, and his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when she began unbutton the front of her shirt. Tyrael’s cleavage welcomed him in, and he let the soft orbs mold around him as the gigantic elf’s fingers gently slipped him between her breasts. It was like being pushed below the surface of a warm sea as her finger tapped the top of his head, forcing him lower until his body was consumed and completely out of sight. The light faded as she buttoned up the front of her shirt, sealing Arthur in the prison of the elf’s chest, far away from the rest of the world.

The muffled sounds of hoofbeats and the elves voices reached him distantly, and as they set out the fleshy walls pinning him on either side jiggled slightly. The day was hot, and though no sunlight reached him Arthur felt himself growing warm, and the lilac scented sweat of the elven Archmage began to well around him, dampening his hair as the droplets lazily rolled across the smooth skin of her breasts before splashing apart on his face, stinging his eyes and nose with the salty texture.

The lazy heat of the elf’s body, along with the gentle swaying of the flesh around him, quickly made Arthur drowsy, and as he felt himself sliding lower and lower into the elf’s cleavage, he fought sleep less and less, until it finally took him. Before he drifted off he reflected that this wasn’t a bad way to travel at all.

Tyrael’s estate was only a few days from the Human Empire’s border, and Gustavsberg, Arthur’s own hometown. Most of the roads in the area would naturally lead there, and the trio of elves even passed a handful of merchants headed for the recently reopened human border.

“It’s good to see that more elves are trading with the humans,” Tyrael mused, as they passed another small caravan, “I’m hoping that our peoples might become closer.”

“Are we going to Gustavsberg as well mistress?” Tina asked.

“No, we’re going to swing North of it,” Tyrael said, “through the old forests… the place we’re going is on the far Imperial coast, but I don’t want to bring us close to any of their larger cities… As much as I’d like to see Inquisitor Shelby again, a trio of elven mages is going to arouse some suspicion. I doubt they’d flat out refuse us entry, but they’d give us an escort at the least.”

When the time came to make camp Tyrael withdrew Arthur from his hiding place, setting him on the ground and using her magic to restore his size in the blink of an eye. He quickly set about gathering firewood, and after he’d prepared a stone circle, Elwyn caused it to instantly light with a flick of her finger. Soon the entire party was laughing and talking over bowls of stew Arthur had prepared for them, discussing the future of their travels.

“So if we must have Arthur at full size in the human Empire, could he be… short?” Elwyn asked uncertainly.

“What do you think Arthur?” Tyrael asked, sipping a spoonful of broth, “would a… smaller human arouse suspicion?”

“Given that I’m in the company of three elves, absolutely,” he chuckled. “Still, I doubt anyone in the countryside will care overmuch, so long as you don’t stick your pointy ears into their business.”

“Please,” Elwyn laughed, “Humans naturally love serving elves, as soon as we show up in those small towns without the anti-elf propaganda, they’ll probably love us!”

“Er…” Arthur met eyes with Tyrael a moment, “M-Maybe I should do the talking,” he said finally.

“Enough!” Tina declared, “Arthur, I’m tired from a long day of travel, attend to my feet!” she kicked her shoes off, crossing her arms imperiously. She caught his look and rolled her eyes, “Please?”

He set his bowl down walking around the fire to her, but as soon as he was within arm’s reach the elf reached out with a grin, blasting him with magic and quickly cutting his size down to no more than a foot tall. He grunted as an elven foot now over half the length of his body slammed into him roughly.

“There’s no better way to relax after a long day on the road,” Tina sighed, letting herself flop backwards as Arthur’s miniscule fingers began working his toes.

As the last of the sun disappeared and their fire waned, Arthur found himself scooped up by Tyrael, carrying him away from the other two elves towards her bedroll. Although the night grew cool, he felt himself snuggled against her chest as she lay down to sleep, hugged like a favored teddy bear.

…

Tyrael’s eyes opened as she felt another creature nearby using magic, a familiar creature at that. With a scowl she slowly slid out of her bedroll, taking great care not to disturb the foot tall human she’d been holding while she slumbered.

Be still Arthur, she thought, silently casting a spell as he shivered, making sure he wouldn’t wake while she was gone.

“I told you to mask yourself,” she said bitterly.

Varnay chuckled, his red eyes appearing the dark as he stood on a tree branch, easily balancing on one toe as he deftly hopped down to the ground. The vampire glanced at Arthur, smirking and rolling his eyes.

“I kept your apprentices from feeling my presence, isn’t that enough?” he drawled. “I didn’t trigger any of those wards you put around your campsite either. He tilted his head with a fanged smile, “Why not simply let me join you around the fire? Are you worried that if your apprentices knew the extent of our partnership they might ask more questions?”

“I’d prefer if no one knows of your presence,” Tyrael remarked flatly, “In fact I’d like it best of all if you would return to your castle and await my return.”

“And trust your good nature to deliver on my half of our bargain?” Varnay hissed, “I think not elf…” he smiled, showing his fangs a moment, letting them glint in the moonlight. “If you wish to cut this whole quest short though… you know I can give you and Arthur there what you’re really after… We could do it right here, in this very clearing, he would accept my gift if you asked him to.”

“I’m not sending him down that path,” Tyrael muttered, “let alone taking it myself!”

“Suit yourself Mage of Starlight,” Varnay said, looking up at the twinkling points of light in the dark sky, “but I think the night would suit you both. I’ll be watching.”

There was a gust of wind, and then the vampire was gone, though Tyrael could still feel him, like a trail of needles poking at the back of her neck. She scowled, glancing back at her camp to see that neither of her apprentices had stirred. Satisfied that Varnay’s presence was still her own secret, she walked back to her bedroll, sliding into it and embracing the still snoozing shrunken human again.

Everything’s going to be fine, she thought, stroking his hair a moment, causing him to stir in spite of the sleeping spell. She looked up at the stars for a moment, those celestial bodies that had always guided her since she’d began studying the ways of magic. Will everything be fine? She wondered, watching them twinkle.

They did not answer.

…

The journey through the elven countryside was uneventful, and when they crossed the border into the human empire at a secluded point of overgrown forest, there were no guards, dignitaries, or fanfare. This of course also meant there were no inns, merchants, or taverns, and the journey into the Human Empire continued on in much the same way as the trek through the Elven Realms had, with one exception.

Arthur sat in the saddle, glancing back at his elven companions as he took point, a musket across his back and a sword on his belt. With the bad feelings between humans and elves it only made sense that he would ride first. Most of the lands bordering the Elven realms were settled by those humans that the late Emperor Gustav had “liberated” from Elven conquest, accordingly most had a “shoot first” position regarding elves.

Hopefully it doesn’t extend to a man riding in their company, he thought, eyeing the treeline.

Plenty of Summer Court elves did wander into the Empire on all manner of business of course, but they rarely lingered near the borderlines, preferring the southern reaches where the tensions between men and elves were less intense. Most of those elves weren’t Archmages like his own mistress though, from what he understood Tyrael’s last foray into the Empire had attracted the attention of the Diplomatic Corps and even Emperor Sarmatian himself.

I should tell Tyrael to go by a fake name when we get to a town, he decided.

“Halt!” a gruff woman’s voice called.

Arthur held up his hand, causing the three elves to bring their mounts to a stop. With a growl he unslung his musket, cocking it in one smooth motion the militia in Gustavsberg had taught him. Elwyn and Tina saw his reaction, and instantly a trio of fireballs manifested around each, rotating slowly as the elves came to his side, ready to do battle.

“We’re violating no laws!” Arthur called, desperately scanning the brush for movement, “I’m just taking some elven… cousins, on a sightseeing tour of the Northern Empire!” An uncomfortable amount of laughter rang out from all sides, causing Arthur’s heart to sink, we’re surrounded…

“A humie with Elven cousins?” the woman’s voice returned, “Sounds like a load of dung to me! Knife Ears don’t respect nobody, least of all their own who decide to lay with decent folk!”

A towering green skinned orc woman stepped out from behind one of the old growth trees, grinning as she hefted a large axe. She was muscular, with visible biceps beneath the brown cotton tunic she wore, and jet-black hair that shone as she tossed it over her shoulder, walking to them.

“Look out Arthur!” Elwyn called, “It’s an orc bandit!”

“Bandit!?” The woman snarled, “Now see here-“

“Orcs are allowed to live in the Empire,” Arthur said quickly, raising a hand, “so long as they keep our laws…”

“Which I have,” she said angrily, “name’s Naz, and I love humies and I’m super loyal to the humie Emperor Salutation!”

“Sarmatian,” Arthur corrected.

“Yeah, him too,” Naz said, “Now what I see is a single humie, three elves, obviously mages, out here in the boonies?” She smirked, “You’re spies!”

Arthur’s eyes went wide, “N-No, just tourists, honestly-“

“OPEN FIRE!” Naz shouted.

Tyrael sighed, “Do not retaliate.” She lifted a single finger, mentally casting a series of spells.

Gunfire rang out, causing Arthur to flinch as lead balls stopped inches from his face. A handful of arrows and crossbow bolts followed, all bouncing harmlessly off a glittering invisible barrier. A second later a mixed group of humans, orcs, and at least one dwarf that Arthur saw, shouted battle cries, rushing out of the forest and raising swords, hammers, axes, and chained flails. There was a steely clang as the weapons banged helplessly against the shell Tyrael had placed around them, Naz herself screamed angrily, raising her axe over Arthur and bringing it down.

I hope you know what you’re doing Tyrael, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut.

There was a feeling like a harsh shove, and he was pushed out of his saddle and into the dirt as the towering orc woman screamed again, lifting her axe high. The axe had harmlessly bounced off a shield the mage had projected onto him, and from the way the air shimmered it probably would again.

“Enough!” Tyrael boomed, her voice amplified enough to cause all the combatants to pause. “If you attack us again, I will personally report you all to the Imperial authorities! Perhaps we’ll even file a lawsuit!”

Naz gasped, and the mixed orcs and humans stepped back, fingering their weapons uncertainly. Arthur’s brow furrowed, glancing over the hesitating attackers. They were all… fit, that was the best way to describe it, the men, the women, the orcs, the humans, all had defined muscles, not the type one had from fieldwork, but from deliberate cultivation. At the same time it was clear they weren’t soldiers, not regular ones anyway, they wore mismatched outfits, laborer’s clothing mostly, and while they knew how to use their weapons, there wasn’t a sense of discipline about them.

Not bandits either, he thought, or Tyrael’s bizarre legal threat wouldn’t have phased them.

“Now let’s not get started on judges and courts and whatnot,” Naz said hesitantly, “T-This being so close to the elven border, we’re all a little on edge!” The group behind her nodded. She chewed her lip a moment, “Humie, are you sure you don’t need rescuing from these knife ears?”

“No,” Arthur said, fighting a laugh at how the orc’s tone had changed.

“Okay then,” Naz muttered, “I guess if you were bad elves you’d have tried to hurt us… But I still think you should come speak with our leader, Rok, he can figure out what to do with you lot.”

“I’ve love a bed,” Elwyn muttered, “even if just for a night.”

The three of them looked to Tyrael, who shrugged, “Very well,” she said neutrally.

“Great, follow us!” Naz said, waving eagerly.

…

The four of them followed Naz and her war party through the ancient forest, which eventually gave way to cleared fields, dominated by a brick walled fortress in the center with a fluttering clenched bicep flag… or at least that’s what Arthur supposed it was, from a certain angle it looked uncomfortably phallic… but he would not voice those concerns to their hosts.

As they entered the sloped fortress the heavy *clanks* of lifting and shifting metal rang out. The horses were led through a great open yard where humans, orcs, and dwarves pulled heavy weighted bars up, performing a number of positions as they sought to grow their muscles. Across the grand courtyard skillets sizzled, readying bacon, eggs, and steaks as the participants tired and drifted towards them.

I’ve never heard anything about a fortress or an imperial post out here, Arthur though, his brow furrowed. These people can’t have been here long.

As if reading his thoughts Naz grinned as she led them through the fortress’s halls, “we live out here, isolated from society so that we can improve ourselves!”

“Improve yourselves?” Tina asked, “Like studying, meditation perhaps?”

“No!” Naz said, flexing her green arms with a grin, “becoming stronger, worshipping our great god Zyzzrac, he who lifts the sun and the moon!”

A cult of some kind, Arthur thought nervously. There were cheers from the courtyard, and a group of men and women were gathered around a dwarf, who grunted loudly as he set one of the weighted bars to the ground.

“A new personal record!” the dwarf roared, causing the crowd to cheer.

Naz nodded approvingly as they moved past the window, “Our leader Rok, he said we needed to come out here to avoid distractions, unhealthy foods, and all the other things that keep us from being our best!”

She opened the door to a large throne room, where an aged and sinewy muscled orc slumped in a chair, glancing up at them as they entered. He had a withered white beard, but sharp eyes that studied them as they entered.

“Naz, why do you disturb my rest day?” the orc muttered, stepping up to take them in. “Hmm… A human and three elves, a curious party.”

“We’re visiting friends and family in the Empire,” Tyrael said calmly, “we have no quarrel with you.”

Rok stroked his beard a moment, then grinned, “I do not believe you,” he said simply, “but perhaps you have a good reason to keep your true goals secret… in any case, we will put the matter before the gods.”

Naz laughed, “Before the gods Rok? Look at these scrawny creatures,” she said, gesturing to the elves, “does their god even lift?”

“Now Naz,” Rok said sternly, “is it not written that some work out at the gymnasium, while others choose to work out at the library? True virtue is found in re-racking the books when one is done exercising the mind.”

“It is,” Naz protested, “but-“

“Rest travelers,” the aged orc said with a smile, “for tomorrow morning you will complete a series of tasks to test your fortitude…” He gestured around, “if you succeed, the gods have clearly blessed your endeavor.”

“And if we fail?” Arthur asked.

Rok chuckled, sinking back into his chair, “then we will send for an Imperial inquisitor and let them sort this matter out with worldly laws.”

Arthur swallowed nervously, looking back his companions and wondering what sort of “tasks” the orc had in mind.  

In spite of their masculine bluster the disciples of Zyzzrac had surprisingly comfortable rooms to offer their “guests.” Feather beds, running water, spacious baths, and a collection of soaps and oils that rivaled what Tyrael purchased for her own mansion.

The Elven achmage herself had enjoyed a lengthy bath the night before, and the lingering scent of lemongrass clung to her skin as she slowly breathed in and out, her chest rising and falling around the tiny human tucked between her breasts.

Arthur simply enjoyed the warm softness of the twin globes on either side of him, cradling him and molding around him as he listened to her slow and steady heartbeat. He often found himself here when Tyrael meditated, clearing her thoughts and occasionally causing winking balls of fire or lightning to burst in and out of existence, slowly rotating her seated form. The lights themselves were always mesmerizing, and he found himself following them with his eyes.

He started as he felt himself rise out of the elf’s cleavage, lifting into the air as if pulled by an unseen hand. He felt himself float lazily by Tyrael’s pristine face, her eyes closed as if in a deep sleep and a small smile on her face. He rotated around her slowly, uneasily wondering if she even noticed his predicament.

“T-Tyrael?” he questioned meekly.

A pair of blue eyes the size of wagon wheels shot open, glancing down at him in mild surprise. A smile crossed her face, and her hand shot out, gripping him out of the air as she regarded him. She brought him to her face, and he could feel her warm breath as she playfully planted a kiss over his entire face, her pillowy soft lips enveloping him and leaving a small trace of her spit coating his head.

“S-Sorry,” he stammered, “You just usually don’t ah… well-“

“I should be the one saying sorry,” she said with a sigh. “My thoughts wandered in your direction, and I suppose you started… floating as a result.”

“Why me?” he asked curiously, “and… what exactly are you doing when you sit like this? Not that I don’t mind the ah… accommodations,” he said, glancing back at her chest.

“When a magician meditates they might be preparing a lengthy spell, contemplating the best use of magic, or in my case, thinking on the stars and trying to notice patterns,” Tyrael explained. “The heavens flow upon the web of fate, as do we, and I can sometimes divine things or draw power from them.

Arthur thought a moment, “that’s how you knew to go after the Lich’s crown?” Arthur asked, “you were watching the stars…”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I foresaw that it would be claimed soon.”

“But not who would claim it?” Arthur asked uncertainly.

“Not everything can be seen, even for one as skilled as I am in astrology,” Tyrael said with a small smile.

“I get it,” Arthur muttered, “It’s like… fishing, right? You can cast a line in a certain area, but if what you need isn’t there, then it simply isn’t there…”

“Very good,” Tyrael said with a nod, “You know Arthur you don’t have much magical potential… but you grasp the concepts well, perhaps one day I should instruct you along with the others.”

Arthur waved dismissively, “I was tested along with all the other boys in my youth, the Imperial recruiter told me it would take me a hundred years of work before I’d ever so much as throw a fireball.”

“And if you had the time?” Tyrael asked suddenly, “Would that… would that interest you?”

Arthur blinked, “That’s ah… well as a hypothetical, I suppose there are many things I would do-“

“Like what?” Tyrael asked excitedly, “if you had all the time in the world, what would you want to see?”

“The northern wilds,” Arthur decided, “and…” he chuckled a moment, “It can’t possibly be true, but I’ve heard that down in the jungles of the Amazon Queendom there are lizards the size of houses! I guess I’d like to see one of those… Why the questions Tyrael? Aren’t we already on one adventure?”

“Just fanciful thinking,” Tyrael said, running a hand over his head. She chuckled a moment, “Lizards the size of a house?”

“I met a man who spent some time in the Queendom, and he swears it’s true!” Arthur insisted.

“Perhaps we’ll go that way someday,” Tyrael muttered, “For now…” she focused on him and her smile took on a mischievous tint. “I need to be at my best for whatever challenge this orc has for us, now how should I relax before taking it on?”

“I have an idea,” Arthur said with a smirk.

“Actually, I wanted to try something new,” Tyrael said, standing up. She casually tossed him to the bed like a stone to a pond, and as he flailed through the air as the expansive bed below him contracted, going from an endless field to a simple mattress as he bounced onto it.

“Bigger?” he questioned, flipping over with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you finally want me to hold you down?”

“Not quite,” Tyrael said, climbing over the baseboard and letting the mattress creak below her as she crawled towards him with a grin.

Arthur gulped as he realized that the elf hadn’t restored all of his size. Elves were short by human standards, Tyrael was tall for their kind at a mere five foot five, but if he had to guess she’d only given him four feet of his own height back. Her arms came down on either side of him like pillars, slender and pale bars to a prison while the blonde elf’s grinning face was the ceiling.

“I’m curious as to what Tina finds so appealing about this,” Tyrael drawled, “and besides, you did want to visit the Amazon Queendom someday, you might find yourself in this position if we ever make it that far south.”

He blinked, “Y-You’d see me with an Amazon?” he questioned.

Tyrael smirked and leaned down, whispering in his ear, “it’s three women for every one man down there, it would be rude not to let the locals sample you… and of course I’m sure a woman from such a society would have no problem with me watching.” He grunted as her arms grasped his wrists, holding him down, “There is certainly an attraction to overpowering a human physically…” she muttered.

“And being overpowered,” Arthur grunted, pushing against her with all of his might. She gritted her teeth a moment, but easily forced him back down to the bed. He licked his lips and grinned, “Well… how are you going to undress yourself and keep me pinned?”

Tyrael whispered a well memorized spell under her breath. Arthur watched, stunned, as her clothing seemed to split and separate from her, seamlessly weaving itself together again and folding itself neatly on the chair. Tyrael’s pert breasts hung over him as she grinned down, now naked, and he grunted for air a moment later as they smothered his face. The soft lilac smell of elven skin filled his nostrils as the elf’s arms laced behind his head, pulling him against her while she laughed softly.

He gasped as she lifted herself up, letting him pant for air as she slowly sidled down his body. Her weight was still enough that he couldn’t have hoped to throw her off if he’d wanted to, and as she positioned herself over him they made eye contact again. Her hands came down to his chest, the soft palms tracing over his body as she lowered herself onto him with a gasp.

“This is delightful,” Tyrael said, rocking her hips slowly against him. He groaned with her as she drove down on him, controlling the pace of their lovemaking, using her relatively Amazonian size to keep him pinned while she rode him gently. “Normally I like my humans smaller than this,” Tyrael breathed, causing Arthur to grunt as she bore down on him with slightly more force, “but… this certainly has an appeal…” She giggled and leaned down, “perhaps merely shrinking all humans to this size would be a good compromise for our peoples?”

“I don’t think the other humans will go for it,” he laughed.

“Smaller then?” Tyrael taunted. Arthur felt his skin slide along the bed as the elf fine-tuned his height. He winced in slight pain as she bore down on him again. She was easily twice his size now, and while the look of bliss on her own face suggested his reduced size hadn’t reduced his effectiveness, he found himself wincing as she slammed into him again, picking up her pace and bringing her weight down on him as her pleasure rose.

“Oh, there we go,” Tyrael hissed, smiling and letting her head loll back as she bucked her hips against his hard enough to make him gasp in surprise. She rocked against him again, her massive hands holding him down as he bucked feebly back.

The pair drew in breath, and then gasped together as the towering elf drove herself down onto him a final time, collapsing into him and hugging him back against herself was the waves of pleasure washed over them. With a huff Tyrael went limp, draping herself over the tiny human like a blanket and holding him loosely in her embrace for a moment longer as the two enjoyed the afterglow.

“I don’t suppose you could make me small and put me somewhere discreet for the rest of the day?” he murmured.

Tyrael sighed, “Unlikely, whatever this orc wants… we might need you for it.”

Arthur chuckled as he found himself suddenly full size, now the one cradling the petite elf in his arms instead of the reverse.

“And what exactly could I do that three elven mages couldn’t?” Arthur asked.

“Three elven mages and a human is more than three elven mages,” Tyrael said offhandedly, “Come on, let’s go find the others.”

…

The great courtyard of the fortress had been cleared of workout equipment, save for two bars loaded with iron plates that rested before a great throne where the aged orc, Rok, sat. The various disciples of Zyzzrac had gathered around the edges, watching and whispering as the four of them entered the yard. The orc woman who had led the ambush crossed her arms, smirking at them as she leaned against the brick wall.

“Time to see what you’re made of,” she chuckled with a wink. Arthur stepped closer to Tyrael, eyeing her nervously. He was a tall man, but the orc stood a head taller than him, and while she still had a feminine form, her figure was muscular enough that he had no doubt she’d overpower him with ease.

“Well, are you rested and ready?” Rok called to Tyrael.

“Yes, you’ve been a most gracious host,” Tyrael said with a nod, “now, what do we have to do to be sent on our way?”

“It’s quite simple,” Rok said with a smile, “I have two bars here, loaded with weight, someone from your group must lift each one.”

“I don’t get why we’re entertaining this,” Tina muttered, “Mistress Tyrael, give the order and we’ll shrink all of these fools and walk right out of here.”

“I heard that!” Rok called with a laugh.

Tina scowled and stepped away from the group, “And what would you do if we decided not to play along? You don’t have a single spellcaster here!”

Rok glanced at Tyrael, and the two shared an odd smile, “Start with me then whelp,” the orc muttered, forcing himself up out of his chair.

Tina glanced at Tyrael, who shrugged, “Go and see Tina, it will be a good learning experience.”

Tina scowled and walked towards Rok. The orc leader was old, sinewy, with a grace to his movements that suggested far more skill than mere strength. Tina held up a hand, silently casting a spell meant to reduce him to mere inches. His hand shot out like lightning, there was a spark, then a brief snapping sound. Rok’s muscles flared a moment, and he slowly breathed out, opening his hand and letting a small puff of smoke rise into the air.

Tina’s face was white, “D-Did you just-“

“He caught your spell,” Tyrael said with a smile, “I’ve heard of orcs and humans who hone their minds and bodies to the point where they can physically grasp magic, but I’ve never seen it done… Your strength and reflexes are commendable!”

“It is nice to be appreciated,” Rok chuckled, casually brushing his hands together, as if wiping them off. He glanced at his awed followers, who were muttering excitedly. “Let that be a lesson to you,” he shouted, “with diligence and a supplement of faith the size of a mustard seed, you can deadlift mountains.”

He turned back to the elves and Arthur, “this first bar,” he gestured to the iron rod, with a pair of plates of steel on either side, “is made of a particular dwarven alloy, infused with melted dragonscales… your magic will slide right off it.”

Elwyn balked, “D-Dragonscales? How are we supposed to lift it then?”

“I don’t know about you two, but I get winded carrying books up and down the stairs,” Tina said nervously.

“I’ll have to try,” Arthur muttered.

Tyrael took a deep breath, “Stand back,” she muttered. The archmage held out her hand. The elves watched, stunned, as the plates on the bar rippled slightly, then slowly began to glow blue. A bead of sweat rolled down Tyrael’s forehead as she gritted her teeth, and a moment later the bar slowly began to lift.

“Overwhelming dragonscale with sheer magical power,” Rok said, clapping as the bar raised over their heads, “take note everyone, see the strength that diligence and effort can bring!”

Tyrael breathed out, panting as the bar fell back to the earth with a clang that caused the crowd to erupt in cheers. Arthur ran to her side, steadying her as she smiled, wiping the slight sheen of sweat from her forehead as she stood back up.

“Excellent work,” Rok nodded, gesturing to the next bar, “This one is blessed by our great god himself, it cares not for physical strength, but strength of character.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“It can only be lifted by the pure of heart,” Rok explained. Seeing Arthur’s worried look he barked a harsh laugh, “Don’t worry humie, it’s very lenient, but if you’ve got any murders or grievous crimes you’ve been hiding… well I wouldn’t pick it up, and I wouldn’t tell any lies once it’s in hand, or it’ll get so heavy it’ll snap your spine in two!” He gestured to Tyrael, “will you take the next challenge archmage?”

There was a sudden quiet, both of her apprentices looked to the older elf, expecting her to easily take the second challenge as eagerly as she had the first, but Tyrael’s face was stone.

After a moment she turned to Arthur, “Overwhelming the dragonscale weight too more out of me than I thought,” she said, “would you mind Arthur?”

“Er, of course,” he said, blinking in surprise as he walked to the bar.

He gripped it, finding it rose easily in spite of it’s intimidating size. Strength of character, he thought curiously, well I’ve never done anything too bad… I don’t think.

As it left the ground Rok called to him, “Now, you’re not tourists, are you?”

Arthur gulped, looking back to the elves who were suddenly nervous, “O-Of course we are-“ he grunted in pain as the bar suddenly became heavier. For a moment he worried it would plunge to the ground, breaking his bones.

“Don’t be lying while you’re holding that,” Rok reminded him.

It was a all a setup, Arthur realized, this whole thing was to get one of us to pick this up so he could question us!

“W-We’re on a quest!” Arthur managed, “a-an important mission!”

“Which would be?” Rok asked, crossing his arms impatiently.

“We seek the tomb of Uzzuq the Lich,” Tyrael said, stepping forward.

“That true humie?” Rok asked, glancing back at him.

“Y-Yes!” Arthur managed. He breathed a sigh of relief as the bar became light again, and he let it fall to the ground.

“Hmm…” Rok, chewed his lip, regarding them as his followers whispered amongst themselves. “You four don’t seem like the types to be interested in a place like that,” he said slowly.

“W-We’re trying to keep what’s in there from falling into the wrong hands!” Elwyn stammered, stepping forward too, “Mistress Tyrael is one of the most powerful elven mages in the world, and she’s foreseen its location!”

“If even half the stories I heard about that place around campfires are true, then the wrong hands would be just about anyone’s,” Rok said with a small scowl. “I’m not sure how I feel about allowing a trio of elves to go after such a thing.”

Arthur gritted his teeth, lifting the bar in the air again. The bar felt lighter this time, and the motion drew Rok’s attention, causing the orc to raise an eyebrow.

“Tyrael is the right hands,” Arthur said firmly. “I’ll say this, these elves have treated me well, taken me in, and I don’t believe Tyrael would ever use anything in that tomb for evil purposes.”

“Telling the truth… or at least you think you are,” Rok muttered, glancing at the bar.

“They could have mind controlled him!” Naz said accusingly.

“Wouldn’t work,” Rok muttered, “the bar would have dispelled it…” he stroked his beard for a moment, the yard grew quiet as his followers leaned in, wondering what the aged orc would decide. “Tyrael… you know we’ve heard about you even out on the plains,” he said finally, “not a lot, but the fact that I heard your name at all out there says you must be an important elf… an important elf with a human vouching for you is a strange thing.”

“Our relationship is a strange one,” Tyrael admitted with a small smile.

“And would you lift this bar, telling me that you plan to use nothing in that temple for yourself?” Rok asked.

Tyrael sighed, stepping forward. Arthur felt the telltale tingle of a shrinking spell, and as his height dropped Tyrael’s hands stretched out, taking the bar from him. He looked at her curiously, but she remained stone faced.

“I will use nothing from the Tomb of Uzzuq for myself, or for my Empress, or any of the arms and armies of the Elven Realms,” she said, making eye contact with Rok. A few seconds later she dropped it, letting it clang ominously to the ground as she and Arthur stepped back to her two apprentices.

“And your party just grows stranger,” the old orc chuckled, “Very well… I suppose there’s nothing to do but send you on your way.”

“Weird bunch of knife ears,” Naz muttered, crossing her arms, “traveling with a humie and they’re not trying to take over the world?”

“Traveling with an orc too,” Rok said, turning to her, “you’re going with them.”

Tyrael paused, “I don’t mean any disrespect, but we’re not looking for additional-“

“Now listen,” Rok said, turning to Tyrael, “elves all think they’re so old, wise, smart, all that, but if you’re serious about digging up that tomb… I think your magic and that humie’s gun won’t cut it, you’ll need someone who’s strong, someone to do some smashing.”

“Wait a moment,” Naz protested, “Rok…” she chewed her lip, “Grandfather, surely someone else can go with them?”

He snorted, “The only reason I’m not going myself is that I have to run things here, besides you can’t spend your whole life exercising! Go have an adventure, they’re cheat days for the soul.”

The green orc woman scowled, stalking over to the group, “I am… at your disposal,” she growled. Tina and Elwyn cowered under the looming orc’s gaze, and Tyrael just sighed.

“Very well,” the archmage said with a small smile, “Shall we be on our way?”

…

Naz traveled light, as they all did, and soon she’d joined their group, a frown on her face her large battleaxe thrown across her back as she rode behind them.

“So what are we going to do about her?” Arthur whispered, coming up to Tyrael’s side.

“Nothing,” Tyrael said with a shrug, “an orc who knows her way around an axe could prove useful, and I doubt that she’s likely to go against her grandfather’s instructions to help us.”

“So you’re our cook?” Naz asked, bringing her horse alongside Arthur’s and interrupting their conversation.

“Usually, yes,” Arthur said hesitantly.

“What’s the protein situation like?” Naz asked nervously, “like obviously we’ll have a dozen eggs each for breakfast, but-“

“How many eggs!?” Arthur asked, stunned, “do you see any hens? We’ll have salt beef and hardtack until we find a town or I shoot us a rabbit.”

She scowled, “it’s no wonder these two elves are so weak,” She leaned over and casually plucked Tina out of her saddle, causing the pink haired elf to squeal in surprise as the orc lifted her by the back of her tunic. “Look! She’s skin and bones!” Naz said accusingly.

“Put me down!” Tina shouted, “M-Mistress Tyrael, do I have permission to shrink the orc?”

…

Arthur shivered as the wind blew from the north, causing the campfire to flutter slightly. He’d prepared them all dinner, adding a double portion of meat to the stew to accommodate their newest traveling companion. As he looked up at the stars he was suddenly glad he’d done so, the heartier meal would be nice on the surprisingly cold night.

“We’re getting farther north,” Tyrael said casually, coming to sit next to him. “Even around this time of year, you get a few chills at night… we’re going to end up at the sea, they say the wind coming off of it chills the bones no matter how brightly the sun shines.”

“I’ve never been,” Arthur said with a small smile, “but I’m sure I can think of ways to keep warm.”

Tyrael glanced at the three other sleeping rolls around the campfire, from the collected snores they were the only ones still awake. The two shared a smile as Arthur felt the world stretch and contort away from him. A set of familiar elven fingers reached down through the hole of his collar, grasping him and pulling him up even as Tyrael gently stuffed his clothing into his nearby pack.

“It was nice of you to stick up for my character back there,” she said, standing up and regarding him with a smile. “Not many elves have a human that will say such kind things about them.”

“It’s true,” Arthur said, perplexed, “I don’t there’s anyone as powerful or as kind as you… well anywhere I guess.”

She stroked his head a moment and smirked, “Oh I don’t know about that,” she said teasingly, leaning down to unlace her boots, “maybe I’m the worst elf of them all, and I’m only able to keep myself in check because I have a human to pick on?” She pulled her foot free of her boot, wiggling her socked toes as he looked on, feeling himself grow hard in anticipation. “You did mention being cold,” she teased.

“I-I did,” he stammered.

Tyrael slowly pulled the white cotton of the sock away from her ankle, then with a casual motion tossed Arthur down into the opening. He felt her magic buzz around him again, reducing his size from that of a doll to a mere corn kernel.

Tyrael released her grip on the sock, letting it snap shut, sealing him in with the stale lilac smell of the elf’s feet, well worn from a day of travel. Tyrael hummed softly to herself as she retired to her own bedroll, scrunching her toes playfully as she felt him tumble down along her ankle and to the base of her foot as she walked.

Arthur’s body slid against her silky skin as she slid into her own bedroll, sealing him away from the world as she felt him sidle underneath her toes where he belonged. She gripped her pillow and smiled, gripping him and releasing him lightly. Finally, the tiny human was wedged between her toes, and she let herself drift off to sleep.

Arthur grunted with exertion, pressing against the pair of toes that were larger than his entire body, the lilac scent of Tyrael’s feet filling his senses as he blinked in the darkness. The motion of her toes against him was intoxicating, even at this size her skin was unbelievably soft, and as he fought against the grimy digits he found himself rising to attention below.

He wasn’t sure if Tyrael was consciously teasing him, or if it was just the soft motion of her feet against his trapped form, but either way he felt his body spasm with pleasure as he was pinched between her toes, rubbed slowly back and forth. It didn’t take long before he gripped the digit, gasping into the dark tomb of Tyrael’s sock, feeling pleasure wash over him as his body went slack. Tyrael’s toes curled over him one last time before he felt his own sleep take him.

Naz proved to be a useful, if gruff, traveling companion, and while the three elves were of little value in the forested hills they traveled through, Naz proved to be capable enough at bushcraft, filling Arthur’s own limited expertise enough that between the two they were eating fresh game almost every night.

“So why’s an Imperial humie living with a bunch of elves?” Naz asked one day while the two were out together. She unslung her bow as she looked at a set of tracks on the ground, an avian set of footprints left in the mud still damp from rain the night prior.

“I have… uncommon tastes,” Arthur said defensively, shouldering his rifle as the peered around. “Those are turkey tracks, they usually move around in groups-“

Naz snorted, “Nah, let’s keep on topic, we’ll find the bird when we find the bird… I’m just curious what sort of person I’ve been forced in with. Did the elves brainwash you from birth to be their pet or something?”

“What!?” Arthur balked, “No, that’s ridiculous! I’m not their pet, I’m more like their-“

“Indentured servant?” Naz guessed.

Arthur just sighed, “I can leave whenever I want!” he said irritably, “Is it so hard to believe I’m genuinely happy with where I am in life?”

“Kinda,” Naz said with a shrug, “heads up, don’t shoot that boomstick until I loose my arrow.”

Arthur looked where she pointed and spotted the trio of wild turkeys waddling along through the grassy underbrush, oblivious to their presence. Rolling his eyes he shouldered his rifle and took aim as Naz did the same.

…

The pair walked back through the forest with the pair of game birds slung over their shoulders. The elves had continued on the road with their supplies, while the two hunters, unburdened, were able to go ahead of the three spellcasters and catch wild game unawares.

“Turkey’s good protein,” Naz muttered, eyeing the birds, “might bulk up those twiggy elves a bit…”

“Shh!” Arthur called, holding up his hand as he heard voices.

“Three knife ears?” A man’s voice laughed, “all the way out here?”

“We don’t want any trouble,” Tyrael said calmly.

“Give us any gold, and any liquor you’ve got, and we’ll think about lettin’ you by!” a higher pitched voice chortled.

Arthur and Naz shot a glance at each other, then slowly stooped low, creeping near the road. A pair of men stood in front of the two elves, scaled black vests glimmering in the early afternoon sun as they hefted a musket and a sword over their shoulders.

Why is Tyrael putting up with this? Arthur wondered, slowly pulling his own musket from his back.

Tina shrieked as the man gripped her arm, pulling her roughly off her horse, “Unhand her!” Tyrael called, and with a gesture a bolt of lightning flew from her fingers… and dissipated on the man’s armor with a small wisp of smoke.

“Dragonscale nullifies spells,” the man grinned, tapping it with a long knife he’d pulled from his belt. “You elves sure like to push us around with that magic of yours… but without it?” a lustful and wicked look came over his face, “I think we’ll see how you lot like it…”

Arthur snarled, and almost ran forward, but Naz gripped the back of his shirt, stopping him. With a scowl she gestured with her head, and with a reluctant grimace he forced himself to calm down, following her as they circled behind the two brigands.

“I’m warning you two,” Tyrael growled, dismounting, “if you don’t release my apprentice, I’ll-“

“You’ll shrink us, step on us, eat us,” the skinny of the two bandits mocked, “you can’t do any of it as long as we’re wearing our- AH!” he cried out in pain as a rock the size of a man’s fist flew through the air, hitting his head and drawing blood as he staggered back.

“My magic cannot touch you while you wear that,” Tyrael said, her voice going low, “but it can touch everything around you.”

“One more spell and I cut the pink hair’s throat,” the bigger man growled, hugging Tina close, his blade at her neck.

“M-Mistress?” Tina squeaked.

“Devin,” the skinny man hissed, “ease off, w-we’ll just take their gold and-“

“Shut it runt,” Devin replied, grinning and letting a gold tooth catch the light, “maybe once you’ve had an elf woman you’ll grow a spine!”

The other bandit seemed conflicted, “T-That’s not what I joined this outfit to do-“

“Then you’re a fool,” he said, turning back to Tyrael, “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began, “That runt over there, Colin? He’s going to give you his vest, and you’re going to put it on.”

Tyrael’s eyes narrowed, “rendering me unable to cast any spells at all… clever.”

“And me?” Elwyn asked defiantly.

Devin just chuckled, “Well, we can deal with you once the head elf is out of the equation.”

There was a loud click as Arthur pulled the hammer back on his own musket, pressing it into the bandit’s back, “Or you could let her go, and we can all live to see tomorrow?” Arthur asked.

“Devin-“ the smaller bandit began, fumbling for his blade, but Naz clasped him on the shoulder, growling down at him as he looked up at the orc woman in terror.

“If you swing that blade at me,” Naz said, leaning down, “I’m going to pick you up and fold you in half, then fold you again, then a third time, and we’ll just see how long I can keep doing that.” Colin squeaked and dropped his sword, throwing his hands in the air.

“Fucking pathetic,” Devin muttered.

“Drop the knife,” Arthur said nervously.

“So, who are you, the elf’s little attack dog?” Devin laughed, “you ever kill anyone?”

“I was in the Gustavsberg militia!” Arthur snapped, “I’m warning you-“

“Blasted plenty of straw dummies huh?” Devin taunted, “no real killer would have waltzed up and warned me like that, throw down that musket you little Elf-Toy and let me talk to your owner.”

“I…” Arthur gulped, and he shot a glance at Tyrael, who had a calm and stony expression.

“Arthur!” Tina wailed, uncharacteristic panic in her voice as the knife drew the slightest drop of bright red blood from her pale neck.

There was a flash of movement as the man tried to turn around, Arthur felt like he was watching someone else as he numbly pulled the trigger, then heard the roar of a musket. The big bandit had just enough time to give him a look of surprise as he twirled around, falling to the dirt and releasing Tina. As Arthur looked down at the unseeing eyes his hand started to shake slightly. Tyrael came to his side, grabbing his shoulder and walking him away.

“Arthur,” she said softly, “have you ever… done that before?”

“No,” he admitted, forcing himself to breathe, “I…”

“You did the right thing,” Tyrael said firmly. Before he could react the elf had reached up, tapping his forehead with her finger. He felt himself suddenly grow calm, as if pleasant incense had been put under his nose and he simply had to drop everything he was doing to enjoy it.

“What did you do?” he asked dreamily.

“A spell to help warriors on the battlefield,” Tyrael said simply, “it will calm you down for a few minutes…”

Arthur blinked as he found himself suddenly looking up at Tyrael’s towering form, he hadn’t even realized she’d shrunk him until her warm fingers were curling around him, picking him up and bringing him close to her.

“I’m going to take Arthur away for a moment,” Tyrael said, glancing to her apprentices and the orc, “Question the remaining human…”

“Yeah, okay!” Tina said, the fear from earlier was gone, replaced with a grin as she advanced on the now cowering bandit.

Tyrael paused, “Elwyn, you’re in charge of questioning.”

“Yes mistress,” Elwyn said with a nod as Tina huffed.

…

Arthur stared up at the sky for a moment, the massive pillows of Tyrael’s breasts on either side of him seemingly molding to his body as she let him relax. The spell had faded, and he’d felt himself calm, the shock of the encounter having finally passed.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tyrael asked, gently scooping him out and bringing him up to her barn sized face.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I… I suppose when you learn a few things in the militia you know in the back of your mind what they’re for, I always knew I might have to end someone’s life…”

“He didn’t give you a choice,” Tyrael said firmly, “you saved Tina’s life. If you and Naz hadn’t arrived when you did…”

“You’d have found a way out,” Arthur said with a small smile, “you’d have overwhelmed those vests with raw power, or turned them to stone, or any of a million other amazing things.”

Tyrael blushed a moment, “I’m always amazed at how much confidence you have in me Arthur.” She glanced back at the road, she’d carried him into the clearing for some privacy, and she chewed her lip as some impulsive thoughts entered her head that were very unbecoming of an archmage of her age.

Arthur seemed to get what she was thinking, and a grin came over his face, “We really should get back to the others.”

“We can spare a minute,” Tyrael breathed, glancing again to make sure they were alone as she let her back lean against a tree. With a grin she reached down and casually loosened her belt, lowering him towards her waistline, with another snap of her fingers his clothes flew away, and he didn’t have time to watch where they soared off to before Tyrael’s thumb hooked around her waistband, opening the gates of paradise.

The musky lilac scent of Tyrael’s sweat, mixed with the sweeter and thicker smell of her arousal, billowed up to meet him as she positioned him at the top of her panties. Her palm gently tipped, sending him sliding along the cotton fabric and into the hammock at the bottom. The elf’s giant hand came from behind him like a wall, pressing him up into her soft and already moist lips as he heard a gasp overhead.

If we can only spare a minute… he grinned and worked his way upward along her womanhood, feeling the sticky feeling of her arousal against his skin as he worked his way up. Today he wouldn’t tease her, and he wouldn’t be going inside, he knew the elfin mage’s weak spot, and he grunted as he gripped the fibers of her panties for support as he dragged himself into position.

“By Turis,” Tyrael gasped, feeling the human’s tiny hand grip the most sensitive part of her womanhood, caressing it like a treasured pearl and making the elf’s knees weak. With a moan of pleasure Tyrael’s back slid down against the tree she’d picked to lean against, and soon she was flat on her bottom, fighting the urge to convulse in pleasure.

Arthur grinned in the darkness of her panties as the smell of her womanhood intensified, she was never able to last long when he did this, and he felt the giant elf convulse as he gleefully continued to rub the fist sized nub of flesh like it was a lamp about to grant him wishes. He grunted as she crossed her legs, squeezing him between two impossible walls of warm skin that pinned him close against her. He forced another lungful of air as he used the last of his strength to finish bringing the elven mage to orgasm.

“Arthur,” she whined, leaning her head back as her pointed ears quivered and her arousal flooded the tiny man trapped between her legs. With a grin she reached down, pressing him hard against herself and soaking him in her cum, enjoying the way his last flailing moments intensified the fading wave of bliss.

She lay there a moment, dreamily looking up at the sky. Finally, she sighed, and reached down, fishing her tiny lover out from her panties. As she gripped the tiny human by his torso, she couldn’t help but smirk at the glistening wetness that coated his skin.

She laid him on the ground next to her, and a moment later he was full sized again, leaning naked against the same tree as Tyrael. His clothes seemed to fly to him, and with a chuckle he grabbed them, beginning to dress himself once again.

“You’re so good at that,” Tyrael said with a sigh.

“I should be, I do it almost every day,” he joked.

“No, I think it’s innate,” Tyrael said with a small smirk, “elves naturally love shrinking humans, and humans naturally haver certain… instincts, that must kick in once you’re small.”

“Interesting theory,” Arthur said, pulling his shirt over his head, “we should discuss it more sometime.”

Tyrael sighed and sat up, “Indeed… come, let us go see what my apprentices have learned from the other bandit.”

…

Colin gulped as he looked up at the towering orc and the two elven mages at her side, “I-I just joined this group because I needed money, honest!” he protested.

“So there’s a group,” Elwyn muttered, “now tell us how many of you there are, and where you’re operating out of?”

Colin chewed his lip, “It uh… wouldn’t be right to betray-“ he shouted in surprise as the world spun away from him, expanding in all directions as Tina’s shrinking spell reduced him to mere inches tall.

“I’ve got to admit,” Naz said, lifting her boot over the shrunken bandit, “I didn’t get this whole shrink the humies thing you knife ears get so excited about… but being able to literally crush my enemies appeals to my inner orc.”

“WAIT!” Colin shouted, looking up fearfully as the shadow of the massive leather sole fell over him, “There are thirty of us, we stole these dragonscale vests from a merchant who was bringing them to an Imperial base east of here!”

Naz chuckled, then bent over, plucking the tiny man out of the dirt, “Now that’s what I want to hear! Is there anything else you want to tell me? Maybe what kind of weapons you lot have?”

Colin closed his eyes as the green woman’s warm breath washed over him, “P-Please just let me go!” he wailed.

She sighed, “Hey, knife ears, you want to take a crack at it?”

“I’m going to eat him,” Tina said excitedly.

“Wait,” Elwyn said nervously, “didn’t Tyrael say we shouldn’t do that?”

“She said we couldn’t do that to Arthur,” Tina said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh gods no,” Colin whispered. He looked to Naz, “O-Orc, you’ve got to keep me safe, I’ll tell you anything I know about anything, I’ll-“

“Eating a humie’s a little grim, isn’t it?” Naz asked, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the tiny human’s protests.

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Tina said dismissively reaching up and plucking the struggling human from Naz’s grip. “Elwyn, can you cast some protective charms on him?”

“Okay,” she muttered, beginning a short incantation. Colin shivered as he glowed momentarily, “I hope I did that right,” Elwyn said nervously, “otherwise he’s going to have a very unpleasant time in your stomach… can you teleport him out?”

“I think so,” Tina said with a shrug, “I guess we’ll find out.”

“MUSKETS AND SWORDS!” Colin wailed, “TEN MUSKETS, THE REST OF US HAVE SWORDS! WE’RE IN THE VILLAGE UP THE ROAD!”

The pink haired elf was just giggling, holding him over her open mouth, dangling him above it playfully as her tongue lolled out expectantly. Colin screamed again as he fell through the air, landing on the soft pillow of the elf’s pink tongue. A moment later it rolled backwards, casually tossing him into the moist cavern.

“Mmm…” Tina groaned, a smug grin on her face.

“You know, since he did tell us what we wanted to know, you probably shouldn’t swallow the humie,” Naz said, crossing her arms.

“On the other hand, if we can do this safely, Tyrael might let us do it to Arthur sometime…” Elwyn muttered, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

Colin couldn’t hear any of the debate, being more concerned with his struggle against the pink appendage as it playfully pressed him into the side of the elf’s cheek. He tried to escape it, unsure of where there was to even go as he flopped uselessly about in the elf’s mouth, coating himself in her saliva.

“Where is our prisoner?” Tyrael asked, stepping out of the woods, Arthur behind her and returned to his full size.

Tina started, but didn’t open her mouth, Elwyn nervously stepped forward, “W-Well Mistress, we were questing him, as you asked.”

“And what are we dealing with?” Tyrael asked impatiently.

“Thirty humies, they’ve got guns and swords and lots more of those anti-spell vests,” Naz growled, “sounds like they took over a nearby village and these two were just watching the roads.”

“That’s worse than I thought,” Tyrael sighed, “Now where is the other one? You didn’t let him escape, did you?”

There was muffled screaming from Tina’s mouth, and then a bulge in the side of her cheek as the human in her mouth desperately pressed against it from the inside. Tina just smiled awkwardly, then cupped her hands under her mouth, spitting the dripping wet man into them.

“I was just uh… scaring him,” Tina said quickly, “to make sure he was telling the truth.”

“Naturally,” Tyrael said with a smirk, rolling her eyes as she plucked the shaking human from Tina’s hand. There was a shimmer, and he was standing at full size again, panting as the spit coating him glistened in the sunlight.

Arthur sized up the surviving bandit as Naz approached with ropes, tying his hands. The man was younger than Arthur had taken him for at first, probably about twenty years if he had to guess, with plenty of boyishness still about him when he didn’t have a sword in hand to catch the eye.

“D-Did these elves capture you too?” Colin whispered as their eyes met.

“No,” Arthur chuckled, “but you’re not the first one to think so.”

“Yeah, he’s just nuts,” Naz said with a grin, “Now come on, show us where this village of yours is.” She pushed his back roughly, causing him to stumble forward as he led the party down the road.

…

The elves, Naz, and Arthur peered down into the small valley where the village lay. As Colin had said, numerous men in black dragonscale vests were loitering around the town square, drinking from mugs and laughing raucously amongst themselves. As the group watched, a man approached, one of the villagers by the look, and while the words couldn’t be heard, the context became clear when one of the brigands struck him across the face, causing him to scurry towards one of the nearby houses.

“So they’re eating and drinking the village dry, and robbing anyone who comes by the road,” Arthur muttered.

“We should go down there and knock some heads,” Naz growled.

“Those vests will make our magic less useful,” Tyrael said grimly, “and with thirty of them… it would be an uncertain thing.”

Arthur sighed and glanced back at Colin, who was tied to a tree, “you there,” he called, “is there any way around this village? Any other nearby passes, a cave or tunnel or something?”

Colin gulped nervously, “The mountains north and south of here get rather… rocky, this pass is the safest way through, it’s why the village is here… if you did go south, you could find a path about four or five days from here.”

“Too long,” Tyrael murmured. She glanced up, and a curious expression came over her face, “Nightfall,” she said suddenly, “It will be night soon… let’s put a bit of space between us and this village and make camp.”

“B-but mistress,” Tina exclaimed, “shouldn’t we-“

“It’s been a difficult day,” Tyrael said firmly, “we will make camp and see what there is to be done in the morning.”

…

Arthur slowly chewed the hardtack bread as he thought about the day, and what was surely to come the next. Killing a man had unnerved him, even after spending time with Tyrael, and though he had no real regret about what he’d done, part of him was dreading the prospect of more bloodshed.

With a sigh he grabbed one of the stale biscuits and carried it over to where Colin was sitting with the others, looking at the elves warily. Tina giggled and shot him a wink opening her mouth and pointing at her tongue a moment and causing him to look away in a mix of fear and embarrassment.

“Here you go,” Arthur said, handing him the bread.

Colin eagerly bit into it, and the relish with which he ate it made Arthur wonder about the food situation in the bandit camp. After a few minutes he sighed, smiling a little.

“Arthur, was it?” Colin asked.

“It was,” Arthur said.

“These elves,” Colin muttered, “They’re… they’re not going to kill us?”

Arthur snorted, “No, we’ll hand you over to the authorities the first chance we get.”

“Oh,” Colin said, shoulders slumping.

“What more would you expect, joining up with brigands?” Arthur asked, a little venom creeping into his voice.

Colin frowned, but didn’t respond, and as the air began to cool and the light dimmed, they group made their way towards their bedrolls, eager for rest.

…

Tyrael stood the first watch, the group having decided that, for tonight at least, magic wards alone were not a good enough camp guard. She shivered, watching her breath cloud the air in a way that was impossible at this time of year, even so high in the mountains.

“Come out,” she said in a low voice.

A pair of red eyes glowed in the dark between the trees, and then the pale face of Varnay appeared, stalking out of the brush with the smooth stride of a tiger on the prowl. The vampire smirked beneath the light of the full moon, enjoying the way Tyrael moved counter to him, never allowing him behind her as they regarded one another.

“You made your man a killer,” Varnay breathed, inhaling deeply, “I can smell it… there’s blood on his hands now.”

“He had no choice,” Tyrael growled, “it was that or letting a man kill my apprentice.”

“Still, one more way you’ve changed him forever,” Varnay mused. “Now tell me, what can I do for you?”

“I want you to go down into that village and deal with our bandit problem,” Tyrael said, “a creature like you should easily be able to do this?”

“Certainly,” Varnay agreed, “but I’m on this adventure as a tourist lady Tyrael, not as a member of your little pack.”

“The next nearest mountain pass is days away,” Tyrael said in a low voice, “the stars are going to align to open the Lich’s tomb soon, and we will have a four day window… imagine if we miss it because we lingered here?”

“I’ll try again in two hundred years,” Varnay said dismissively, “You are the one on time limit here Mage of Starlight.”

“And how long will you wait until another living mage comes along that can help you open it?” Tyrael hissed, “because I never will unless Arthur is at my side!”

Varnay’s cheer vanished, and he scowled, his fangs bearing slightly as he audibly fought a hiss, “Very well,” he growled.

Tyrael couldn’t help but smirk, “and I expect it done cleanly, no unnecessary death.”

Varnay glared at her a moment, and she could almost feel the hate, “Where is the Tyrael of yesteryear?” he asked in a low voice, “the one that would turn a charging cavalry column to dust before turning aside on the battlefield?”

“That was war,” Tyrael said icily, “this is peacetime.”

“I’m sure the grieving will care about the distinction,” Varnay chuckled.

Before Tyrael could say anything else the wind blew, and the vampire was gone like a wisp of smoke, the otherworldly chill he brought with him disappearing into the trees. Tyrael glanced in the direction of the village, and for a moment she fought the urge to race into the trees, pursuing the vampire and calling him off, but she didn’t move.

With a sigh she forced herself to turn away, walking back to her bedroll.

…

The village was somber as they rode into it, whatever had happened in the night had spooked the citizens more than the bandits themselves had. Arthur glanced around, and the people closed doors, windows, and even a merchant with a cart full of vegetables eyed them suspiciously.

The bandits themselves were mostly tied up, sitting the middle of town while some of the villagers stood watch over them with their own muskets, a man in armor that Arthur took for the sheriff standing over them.

“Greetings,” he said, striding up to them, “You’ll pardon our town’s nervousness, it’s been an… odd few weeks.” He glanced at the elves and frowned, “I don’t suppose you… foreigners, know anything about what happened here last night?”

“No,” Tina blurted out, looking in shock at the gathered prisoners, “d-did you rise up and take them unaware?”

The sheriff scowled, “Something did, that’s for certain… the barmaid said she saw it, a shadow that moved along the walls and took them one by one. From the way they were screaming last night I honestly expected worse than to find them disarmed and waiting for us.”

Tyrael smiled, “It seems luck has smiled on your village then.”

“I don’t know if that’s the kind of luck we need,” the man muttered, looking up at the hills warily, “their leader, a big man named Wulf… it didn’t spare him.”

Tyrael froze, “W-What?”

“I don’t know what it did, but he’s gone,” The sheriff said darkly, “with how much blood was coating his room though? I wouldn’t expect to see him among the living again.”

“I see,” Tyrael muttered.

“It wrote something, in his blood,” the sheriff said, chewing his lip, “’My services come at a cost…’ what could that mean?”

Arthur leaned close, “Do you know what did this?” he asked Tyrael.

“No,” she lied, “of course not… It must have been something their leader angered, a spirit or demon perhaps, no concern of ours…”

“I don’t feel any strong magic nearby,” Elwyn agreed, “whatever it is it’s gone now.”

“I don’t know anything about magic, but that makes me feel a little better,” the sheriff muttered. He brightened a little, “I’ll see that you fine people are given rooms at our inn, after being occupied by these ruffians for the last several weeks they’ll be happy to see paying customers again, even of the elvish variety… no offense.”

…

The inn was surprisingly spacious and well furnished, suggesting that the trade through the hills had at one time been more profitable than it was now. Tyrael and Arthur had retired to their own room, leaving Naz, Elwyn, and Tina to share a second.

If Colin had to guess he was at most three inches tall, and the pink elf had giggled ominously when she’d shrunk him that morning, telling him to stay quiet and out of sight. From his place tucked in the elf’s pack, cushioned by her spare clothing, it was unlikely he would have been heard even if he’d made noise.

The gigantic grinning face of the elf suddenly filled his vision as the pack’s drawstring was pulled open, “Hi Colin,” she giggled, “comfy?”

“Uh… yes mistress.”

“Oooh I like that,” she said, reaching in to pull him out.

“T-This is a bad idea,” Elwyn muttered, “you know how Lady Tyrael feels about shrinking humans!”

“Yeah well, Lady Tyrael’s already got a human,” Tina said dismissively, “and besides, this one here is another one that probably wants to come with us, right?”

“Uh…” Colin gulped.

Tina just scowled, “Fine, I’ll grow you back and we’ll take you to that sheriff guy and you can be with the others.”

“On second thought, yes, I’d love to go with you fine elves!” Colin said with a forced grin.

“You gonna tell the boss lady that you’re keeping that Humie?” Naz asked from her cot.

“Once we get out of town, sure,” Tina said dismissively. She placed the tiny human on the floor and eagerly placed her bare feet on either side of him, “Until then, let’s see how good our newest human friend is at rubbing feet!”

Colin gasped as she snapped her fingers, allowing him to grow back to a foot in height. She pointed wordlessly at her toes, grinning, and Colin quickly snapped to attention, gripping the sides and slowly massaging them as best as he could. The pungent lilac tinged odor of the elf’s sweat filled his nostrils as she playfully tapped the top of his head with her big toe, encouraging his work.

“You know,” Naz said, swinging around and staring at the scene, “I think I’d like to try that too, see what all the fuss about making humies tiny is about.”

“And me too!” Elwyn said quickly, “after all he’s going to be our human, right?”

“Of course,” Tina said with a smile.

What did I get myself into? Colin wondered, looking up at the trio of grinning giants.

…

Arthur enjoyed his usual spot, snuggled against Tyrael’s chest at minute size as she slept, her warm breasts serving as mattresses and pillows, rising and falling around him slowly.

Something was troubling him though, You know what killed that bandit leader, he thought, glancing up at the enormous elf’s sleeping face, why keep it a secret? Why run away from whatever it is?

Soon the thoughts weren’t enough to keep him awake, and sleep took him too.

Emperor Gustav’s sigil, a gold crown on a blue background, fluttered in the wind as Tyrael walked past the long row of camp banners. The ground was muddy, and the march back to the human capital had become a slog, an unpleasant affair with the promise of at least one more battle at the end of it.

Though Tyrael was technically a prisoner of war, she had freedom of movement throughout the camp on Gustav’s own orders. An Elven archmage like herself was a fine prize for the emperor’s resurgent campaign to restore his throne, and many of Gustav’s soldiers were men he’d liberated from the elven realms themselves. In a way Tyrael’s continued “imprisonment” was a way for the emperor to show his newest subjects his power over the people that had so easily conquered their own kingdoms.

Tyrael stopped at the emperor’s tent, “Emperor Gustav sent for me?” she asked, looking up at them each in turn. The guards nodded, parting and letting her enter the tent. Inside a large table adorned with a map of the Empire waited, and Gustav himself sipped from a chalice of wine as he regarded the positions of armies.

Gustav himself was a mighty man, over six feet tall and with a thick waist and arms like tree trunks, but he always seemed tired, as though the wind had gone out of his sails long ago. He smirked as he saw her come in, setting his cup down and walking around the map to her.

“Mage of Starlight,” he greeted.

“Emperor of Man,” she nodded, “how may I be of service today?”

“I’m in need of your wise counsel,” he muttered, glancing at the carved pieces of wood across the table, each symbolizing an army.

Tyrael fought a chuckle, “surely you have someone who could advise you on matters better than a captured enemy mage?”

Gustav snorted, “my supporters are those who felt they had no other options, mixed with the usual opportunists and thieves that you’ll find in any civil war.” He pointed to the map, “It seems my cousin Hugo, who styles himself Emperor in my stead, has camped his army in an open field between the mountains and the river here… if I fell upon him his army would have no room to maneuver and could be routed easily.”

“Then do so,” Tyrael said with a frown, “I don’t know what I can-“

“There’s a large column of slavers who have raided the dwarven foothills,” he said, pointing to a mountain range nearby, “rough men out of Baldania… a few thousand of them. The scouts report they’re marching thousands of dwarves and plenty of my own people to the mountain passes, once they’re out of the country they’re lost for good, doomed to sale at the markets of the plains cities.”

“A tragedy,” Tyrael said slowly, “but not of strategic importance… if I understand things?”

“I can hardly turn my entire army around to go save those people,” he muttered.

“You have an army now because you dropped everything you were doing to come stop my people’s invasion,” Tyrael said, “Perhaps you should follow your instincts?”

Gustav glared at the map a moment, then growled angrily, “I’m going to lead my cavalry in pursuit of the slavers… You’re coming too.”

Tyrael smiled, “of course, as your prisoner I am at your disposal.”

Gustav smirked, “Another battle then… with you at my side I’m almost starting to enjoy this war.”

…

Tyrael started awake, the memory of the late emperor vanishing as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. The smell of sizzling breakfast sausage hit her nostrils, and her stomach growled eagerly as she sat up, seeing that Arthur had already begun preparing a breakfast for the group.

They were several days out of the hills now, making good progress towards the Imperial coast where their destination waited. The forested flatlands would soon give way to the rolling green fields of the Imperial heartlands, and then on to the rocky northern coasts where long ago the first Lich had built his grand temple.

“Where are Elwyn, Mina, and Naz?” She asked, reaching for a plate as Arthur offered it to her.

“Your apprentices dragged Colin off to a field near here to practice spells on him,” Arthur said with a wry grin.

“Ah, so the former criminal is taking your old position,” Tyrael chuckled, “I almost pity him…”

“He swears up and down he agreed to be their… whatever he is to them,” Arthur shrugged, “maybe he’s just another man who finds himself drawn to you elves. I don’t particularly trust him, but I doubt he’ll try anything with three elven mages and an orc.”

“And a brave human hero,” Tyrael smiled.

“I’m a candlemaker and now I’m a manservant,” Arthur said with a shrug, “not very heroic.”

“You’ve been heroic when it mattered,” Tyrael said, sidling up to him. She felt a flutter in her stomach she couldn’t quite place as he put his arm around her, and they sat there quietly a moment.

“You were saying something in your sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Gustav? Was that the emperor? The dead one I mean?”

“Yes,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “the dead one.” She thought for a moment on how to explain her relationship with the late monarch, “He was a fascinating man,” she said wistfully, “I was his prisoner but… we became close friends over the course of the war.” She sighed, “I’d have liked to spend more time with him, but the wars ended and I went home, he went on to wear the crown he’d won, and time got away from me.”

“Sometimes I forget what a life you’ve had,” Arthur said, a little awed, “you were friends with an emperor for gods sake!”

Tyrael smirked, “Given enough time, you might find time to do some interesting things too Arthur.”

“If I lived a thousand years I doubt I’d do half the things you’ve done,” Arthur said, sighting and leaning forward to poke the cooking fire, “time gets away from humans too.”

It’s not getting away from me again, Tyrael thought bitterly, looking up at the human who increasingly filled her with that odd feeling she was sure she knew but couldn’t bring herself to name. Not until it’s done, she decided, then I can tell him how I feel… and there won’t be anything between us, not even death.

…

Colin grunted as a house sized elven foot slammed into him, a big toe the size of his torso playfully twisting him into a spot of mud. Overhead the towering mountain of the elf herself giggled, playfully batting him around through the dirt and filth like a stray beetle while she looked on imperiously.

“I know most people like their humans around a few inches,” Tina said, flicking her pink hair behind her ear, “but there is something really fun about going lower than that…”

“It’s wasteful,” Elwyn said with a huff, “it takes three times as much magic to make them that small, and if there’s an entire column of them charging at you you’re going to want to conserve your energy. Lady Tyrael says when she was on battlefields facing humans she rarely made them smaller than five inches!”

“Well I’m not on a battlefield,” Tina muttered, pinching Colin between her toes and causing him to grunt as she casually lifted him up.

Elwyn flicked her wrist dismissively, dispelling the shrinking spell and causing Colin to regrow to full size so quickly that Tina fell over with a squeak of surprise. Rolling her eyes the blonde elf lifted her fellow apprentice up right, squaring off against Naz and Colin, who hesitantly went to the orc woman’s side.

“Right, so we’re just trying to knock you down?” Naz asked, grinning as she slapped her palm against her fist, flexing her muscles slightly.

“Er… yes, this is a contact magic drill,” Elwyn said nervously, “C-Colin and Naz, you’ll simply try to push me over, and I’ll try to use my spells to stop you!”

“Perfect,” Naz grinned.

Colin gulped, “If you’re sure…” He readied himself, joining the orc woman about a dozen feet away. Letting elves practice spells on you, he thought, fighting a laugh, a far cry from the bandit lord you’d imagined yourself when you set out… He licked his lips as Elwyn smiled, giggling nervously. Still, having the attention of a trio of fair women isn’t the worst thing in the world, even if they have some… unusual desires. He let his eyes linger on the elf’s bust a moment, squeezed together in a pleasant way that was revealed by the low cut of her tunic.

“Like what you see human?” Tina mocked, bending over and allowing him to stare down the top of her own outfit.

“W-What are you doing?” Elwyn snapped, red faced.

“He was looking down your shirt,” Tina said with a shrug, “Humans are completely powerless before elven beauty, he’s probably just barely holding himself together!”

Colin growled, “You elves are so arrogant, you all think that every human spends all day fantasizing about you-“

“You kissed my feet for an hour last night, and you were rock hard the whole time,” Tina said, sticking her tongue out playfully, “save your last defiant speech for someone else.”

“She’s got you there humie,” Naz said with a smirk, “and you seemed really excited when Tyrael had me tie you up the first few nights you were with us. I think you humies make a big deal about how powerful and independent you are, but you all secretly want to be pushed around or something…”

“I’ll show you,” He growled, “Fine Elwyn,” he called, “let’s make it interesting! If I knock you over I…” he thought a moment, then grinned wickedly, “You will let me touch your…” he gulped, if this backfires you could be in deep shit… still, you already came this far, “Your breasts!” he grinned, savoring the way Elwyn covered her mouth with her hands, “that’s right, my dirty lowborn human hands all over your perfect elven-“

“My breasts?” Elwyn giggled, and suddenly Colin realized she hadn’t been stifling a gasp of shock or horror, but a giggle of amusement.

“I like this human,” Tina said, sitting up a little straighter on the fallen log she’d chosen for a perch, “Arthur’s always so nice, this one’s a little fighty, and I appreciate that!” She clapped her hands, “Okay, on the count of three you two rush Elwyn here, knock her in the mud and you’re on your way to grope city Colin!”

“Don’t worry humie,” Naz chuckled, “I’ll do my best to earn you that squeeze.”

Colin blinked and shook his head, “Right, thanks…” 

“One,” Tina counted excitedly, “two…” Colin locked eyes with Elwyn, who let sparks dance along her fingers, “THREE!”

Naz let out a roar and rushed out ahead of Colin, who shouted his best battle cry as he followed her. Elwyn to her credit didn’t flinch a bit, muttering spells under her breath and letting her fingers dance as she wove the first spell.

Naz raised her arms up, “I’ll rip your spell apart with my bear hands!” There was a shimmer as the spell slammed into the orc woman, and for a split second it looked like she’d managed to hold the silvery threads of magic that suddenly appeared in mid-air, but then Naz’s eyes went wide and she screamed as an explosion knocked her backwards.

Colin didn’t have time to check on her, he was within arms reach of Elwyn. Up close it was hard to believe the tiny elven woman was a magical powerhouse, she was so dainty that he found himself hesitating even as he prepared to shove her down.

It was a mistake, and with a delighted look in her eyes she blasted him with the shrinking spell. This time she’d loaded so much of her magical ability into it that it felt like a bucket of warm water being splashed over Colin as the world raced away, stretching and contorting as his body became smaller. He blinked, groaning as he stared up and tried to get his bearings.

“And you said I overdid it with the half inch,” Tina’s voice boomed, “I don’t even see him!”

An eye the size of a town square hovered into being over Colin, Elwyn’s immaculate elven face blocking out the sun as she searched for the human she’d reduced to speck-size. A moment later he heard a giggle, and then a pair of fingers as big around as castle towers lowered down to pinch him. He shouted in fright, shielding his face at the moment of impact, but her fingers were soft, molding around his body rather than pulping him as the elf lifted the squirming man up.

“Now what was all that nonsense about human pride?” Elwyn teased, leaning in close and letting her massive ear hang over him like the world’s largest cave, “I can’t hear anything, so you must be ready to submit to elven guidance and caretaking!”

“Is that what you call it?” Naz asked, getting up and dusting herself off from the ground where the spell had knocked her during the training drill.

“The goddess Turis said that with our magical gifts and eternal lifespans we would walk among the other peoples of the world as giants,” Tina explained, “and we were to nuzzle them safely against our bosom and guide them! It’s why we are so driven to use our spells to reduce humans to a more manageable size, so we can walk among them as the giants our goddess wanted us to be!”

“If you think about it, I’m just following her divine instruction,” Elwyn giggled, bringing the speck to her lips in an enormous pillowy kiss that covered Colin’s entire squirming body.

Naz chewed her lip a moment, “You elves ever think that maybe there was some metaphor in that divine command?”

“Our priestesses have studied Turis’s holy commands for thousands of years, they know what our goddess wants,” Tina said dismissively, “and besides, your god just wants you to pick up heavy things all day!”

Naz snorted dismissively, “Your elven god just gave you all magical abilities, Zyzzrac is a god that makes you work for strength, so you appreciate it more!”

“I’ll take up the theology discussion another time,” Elwyn said, grinning at Colin mischieviously, “for now, I feel that since Colin did manage to lay his hands on me, he’s earned the opportunity to touch the breasts he longed for so much.”

Colin blinked, Maybe elves aren’t so bad after all? He thought excitedly, readying himself for the regrowth spell.

It never came, instead he was brought above the massive canyon of the elf’s cleavage, and he screamed, flailing through the air as the enormous fingers released him. Colin grunted as he made contact with the soft surface of the elf’s breasts, rolling downward into the crack where they met on her open cut top while she looked on, giggling at the ticklish sensation of his tiny body moving over her skin.

“Goodbye,” Elwyn said sweetly, bringing her finger down to press upon him like a column from the heavens. Colin was helpless as he was pressed into the warm pillowy darkness of her bosom, her steady heartbeat echoing around him as the finger withdrew, letting the twin walls of titflesh crash into him like an ocean, molding against his body and holding him suspended in place. He fought feebly for a few moments, trying to climb upwards in some semblance of escape, but it was useless. The soft smell of lilac filled his nostrils as the light sheen of the elf’s oily sweat began to permeate his clothes.

She’s walking, Colin realized as his world shifted slightly, bobbing up and down as if he were a ship on the sea. Each step sent him lower into his prison, and while he climbed feebly upwards all of his strength amounted to nothing as he was battered from side to side by the twin mountains of immaculate elven skin.

“Can you even feel him in there?” Naz asked curiously, looking down at the elf’s cleavage as they walked back to camp.

“Not at all,” Elwyn said with a smile, “though if he does manage to surface… I think I’ll make him even smaller and push him back in, I’ll keep doing that until he stays in there.” She rolled her eyes at the orc’s look, “I’ll regrow him when we make camp tonight!”

“And here you said you didn’t want to take him with us at first,” Tina laughed.

“I can’t help it,” Elwyn muttered, “having our own human is really waking something up in me… Playing with Arthur is all well and good, but he’s Mistress Tyrael’s at the end of the day.”

“Colin’s not really “ours” either,” Tina giggled, “he’s just sort of… with us, for now, I mean we’ll probably have to let him go at some point.”

Elwyn stopped, grinning as she slowly pressed her breasts together, no doubt increasing the pressure on her tiny passenger. Slowly she eased off, making a mental note to question and tease the human about the experience later.

“I’m sure he could be convinced to come back to the Elven Realms with us,” Elwyn said, resuming her walk.

…

The group was soon upon the Imperial heartlands, those old and well settled kingdoms which had first been conquered, bullied, or convinced to join the fledgling Human Empire with its coastal seat in Camford.

So much has already changed, Tyrael marveled, looking at the cobblestone roads which had replaced the mud and straw which she’d seen in this part of the Human nation only a mere sixty years prior. The lands themselves seemed more alive with activity too, towns she could swear she remembered as having one horse for the lot now had wagon trains moving through with such regularity that her own party was forced to hug the side streets.

And then there was how people reacted, in the more provincial lands bordering the Elven realms an elf moving through human territory was almost always cause for interest, if nothing else. Here it seemed that the humans didn’t even care that an orc, three elves, and two men were moving through as a group, and Tyrael found herself gawking as a towering Amazon woman walked by, a pair of cat eared demihumans in tow as she loudly joked that she needed an inn with a bed big enough for her and her “boys.”

“Are all the human towns like this Mistress?” Tina asked, bringing her horse up next to Tyrael’s, “Arthur, why didn’t you tell us the Empire was so busy!”

“I’d never been more than a few dozen miles from Gustavsburg before I met Tyrael,” he laughed, “though I’d certainly heard stories.”

“This isn’t even that big of a town,” Colin said dismissively, “you rubes would faint if you saw Camford.”

Tyrael felt a mix of nostalgia and loss thinking about that for a moment, the last time she’d been in Camford had been for the late Emperor’s coronation, and shortly after they’d said their goodbyes.

If these small towns are so different now, I wonder what the capital is like?

“Do we have enough coin to stay in town?” Elwyn asked eagerly, “I’d love to feel a real bed for a change!”

“I want an inn with strong drinks,” Naz bellowed, “and meat.”

“That’s our place then,” Colin said, pointing to a large tavern with a number of wagons arrayed behind it, “Gustav’s Rest, anything named after that man is bound to have large portions and drinks that’ll knock an Amazon out.”

“His reputation lives on,” Tyrael mused, smiling as the group approached the inn.

…

Booking rooms was easy enough, and soon the group was settled in at a table in the boisterous inn common room as the sun began to set. The crowd itself was mostly human, but around a quarter were various other races along with a smattering of animal eared demi-humans, mostly dressed in the same clothes as their human counterparts and mingling freely as the drink began to flow and the seared plates of meat were brought out.

“There are a lot more non humans than I thought,” Elwyn said curiously, “I’d worried we’d stick out as elves… but we look more human than half the people in here!”

“It’s a tavern named after Gustav, what did you expect?” Colin laughed, taking a sip from a mug that a goblin waitress had brought him with a wink.

“What’s the significance exactly?” Tina asked with a frown, “Elwyn and I were too young to see fighting against him, and all the Elves say is that Gustav Elf-Killer was the most powerful and intelligent human to ever live.”

Tyrael snorted into her own drink a moment, causing Arthur to raise an eyebrow before he spoke, “He was one of the major claimants when the Imperial civil war started, while it began as a simple matter of succession it quickly became about rights for human peasants, demi-humans, and a whole load of other issues.”

“Plenty of people still aren’t happy that Gustav gave the demis full legal rights,” Colin muttered, “Our current emperor, Sarmatian, extended it to everyone, saying if they can keep imperial law they can have imperial rights…”

“It’s why we moved the temple of Zyzzrac into humie lands,” Naz said, eagerly cutting into a steak, “Grandfather wanted a place where anyone could come hear his teachings.”

“Over in the provinces near elven country we call Gustav the liberator,” Arthur said with a smile, “he ended the Elven invasion in a single battle.”

“He just caught us by surprise,” Tina said defensively, “if we’d known then what we know now-“

“It was arrogance that led to our mages being defeated at the Field of Thunder,” Tyrael said, a little firmer than she’d intended. “Our scouts had fully informed our leaders of what human cannons and guns were capable of, they simply chose not to listen.” She drained her cup, fighting the urge to cough as she realized that the human spirit “brandy” was quite a bit stronger than the wine she was used to.

Arthur squinted a moment, “Tyrael, look up there.” He pointed to a large portrait of the late Emperor Gustav’s coronation, where dozens of royal dignitaries looked one while a priest of Typhon crowned the new monarch, who had a stolid and grim expression. A few rows behind him, there was an unmistakable face, her pointed ears standing out amongst the humans in the audience.

“Oh gods,” Tina laughed, “Mistress Tyrael, you’re-“

“Yes, I was there,” she groaned, looking up at her own awed expression captured forever in canvas, “I was told this painting was going to hang in the palace…”

“It’s a copy,” Colin said casually, “I’ve seen at least three other taverns that have this same one, there’s probably a painter somewhere in Camford that just spends all day making them.”

“Indeed,” Tyrael sighed, holding up her cup, “Waiter, a refill?”

…

Arthur hefted Tyrael over his back, letting the giggling elf hook her arms together as they climbed the stairs. Judging from her red face this was the elven archmage’s first experience with the more potent human spirits

“Oh Arthur,” she giggled, “You’re the best human… I should shrink a castle for you, did you see one you liked on the way here? I’ll just put it in my bag and we’ll sneak it back…”

“I don’t think you should steal any of the castle’s around here,” Arthur chuckled, “besides, the dollhouse is fine.”

“I really did shrink a castle once!” Tyrael bragged as she steadied herself in front of the door to their room. “It was so cute, watching them shoot their little catapults at me, it didn’t even scratch my cheek…”

I’ll have to follow up on that story tomorrow morning, Arthur thought with a chuckle, walking towards the bed with her.

Suddenly her arms wrapped around his neck, and he cried out in surprise as she pulled him down to the bed with her, and she gave a bubbly laugh as she hugged him close against herself. With a growl she rolled on top of him, a drunken and lustful look crossing her features as she licked her lips playfully.

“I really don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her brandy tinted breath stinging his nostrils slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere!” he insisted.

She gave him an odd look, laughing a little, “I’ll trade the world to see that you don’t, I’ve always cared more for the stars anyway.”

Blue sparks danced across her fingers, and before Arthur knew it he was dwindling before her, slowly shrinking as his clothes seemed to balloon up around him. This gradual size reduction was something that the other two elves never seemed to manage, and Arthur couldn’t help but look on in awe as Tyrael’s smirking visage grew from a merely beautiful woman to a mountainous feature bearing down on him like an excitable goddess.

Her fingers laced around him, scooping him out and bringing his entire body up to her face, where she began giving him wet sloppy kisses that quickly soaked him with her saliva. He coughed, both from the gooey spit that quickly flooded his face, and from the strong vapor of the brandy still on her breath.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, giggling as her tongue came out, licking away the excess as she reached down, fumbling with her pants.

“It’s okay,” he laughed, wiping the rest of out of his eyes. He was well used to Tyrael using him to pleasure herself, but tonight she was wild, silly even, and he found himself enjoying it.

“Smaller,” she muttered, letting magic flow along her hand and shrinking him further.

“You’re going to make this harder!” he warned, his voice fading as she reduced his size from that of a doll, to a bug that could be pinched between her fingers, and finally a mere grain of sand.

“I have faith in you,” Tyrael growled, fighting a wave of arousal as she saw how he stuck pathetically to her finger at his new size.

Without another word she pointed down, bringing her fingertip into her panties, and finally up against the wetness of her womanhood. From Arthur’s point of view it was as if the world had suddenly become a swamp, a hot muggy place with the air thick with the smell and taste of the elf’s arousal. Tyrael was as wet as he’d ever seen her, and at his size he was easily peeled off and stuck in the mire of her juices, plastered against her pearl as the immense finger withdrew and the lustful giggling sigh of the archmage shook the world around him.

With a happy sigh Tyrael slowly began to finger herself, each motion twirling and swirling Arthur’s world. The only light he had was the low lamplight of the inn room, a thin strand of it illuminating the smooth perfection of the soft skin surrounding the pink opening he was stuck in, each movement of Tyrael’s fingertip seemingly pushing him further into the much.

What does she think I can do for her at this size? He wondered, gritting his teeth and grunting as he fought to move through the gunk, I can’t even be the size of a grain of sand! He looked down and realized as Tyrael groaned loudly that he was plastered to the soft globe of her clitoris, and he grinned as he realized that, small as he was, he was making some progress.

“There!” Tyrael bellowed as he started to crawl across the soft pink surface again. The elf writhed in excitement, her massive finger invading his musky prison again as she drove herself closer to orgasm.

Down below in her panties Arthur’s world was flooding, at his size the sticky sweet juices of the elf’s womanhood were like thick swamp mud, fragrant and choking as it bogged down his movements with each wave. With the last of his strength, he dragged his entire body across Tyrael’s most intimate place, collapsing as he was rewarded with a scream of pleasure that rocked the heavens.

Arthur couldn’t help but grin in triumph as her finger, now sticky with cum, withdrew, leaving him alone in her underwear as the drying juices cemented him to the top of her womanhood. He heard her pant, and for a moment he wondered when the massive digit would return to retrieve him.

“Hmm… Arthur,” Tyrael murmured, turning onto her side and letting inebriated sleep take her.

As he heard the thunderous snoring overhead, Arthur realized that, by intent or by accident, Tyrael had left him trapped, stuck to her and within the darkness of her panties at a size almost too small to see.

At least it’s warm, he thought wryly yawning as he felt his own weariness catching up with him. Soon he was asleep, his final thoughts turning to dreams of spending forever with Tyrael as she’d promised.