Miriel frowned, looking down at the plain and drab brown coat and white shirt that Christina had given her, “are you sure you don’t have something a little more… interesting, for me to wear?” Miriel asked, “I’ve seen pictures of humans in storybooks that wore way nicer clothing than this!”

“Most of those humans weren’t trying to avoid being hung for shrinking people,” Christina muttered, straightening the wide brimmed hat so that it covered Miriel’s ears. “Now explain to me what your plan is again?”

“I just need to find the other spellcaster,” Miriel said with a smile, “I’ll be able to tell who it was as soon as I see them use a bit of magic, then I can match their signature to the shrinking curse currently on Bertram here!”

“So I’m guessing that means I need to go out with you, and can’t simply relax here on the counter?” the tiny thief asked, looking up at the two of them and crossing his arms.

“Yep! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Miriel said, reaching for him and scooping him up easily, “now where would we find spellcasters in a human town? Elven ones have them pretty much all over, but I know you guys don’t have as many mages…”

“Any human mages out here will be with the military,” Christina said, “there might be some non-human ones coming and going on other business.”

“Great, so you’re going to go closer to the people trying to capture and kill you,” Bertram grinned, “well the mages are going to be protected as VIPs so-”

“Bertram knows a way into the barracks,” Christina volunteered with a smug smirk.

“Really!?” Miriel said excitedly, “that’s great!”

“Thanks Christina,” he muttered as the elf excitedly slipped him into her front breast pocket.

“Hey, you want to get back to full size, right?” Christina grinned. Her finger stretched out and gently ruffled his hair, “then again, maybe you don’t? I kind of like you better at this size, more manageable, maybe the elves are onto something with this tiny pet business.”

“I don’t know why you two are so hung up on the idea that I’m trying to keep Bertram as a pet,” Miriel said a little defensively, “yes he’s very cute at this size but-“

“Look, I won’t judge why you came over here, like I said I totally understand!” Christina began, throwing her arms up a little hesitantly, “just you know… maybe you only need the one pet, right?”

“Y-You think I’m going to shrink you?” Miriel asked, a little taken aback, “now see here, I came over the border to make friends!” she scowled as she walked towards the shop door, adjusting the fake hair and hat to hide her ears again. With a huff she buttoned the pocket, concealing Bertram from view as she turned back to Christina for one last remark, “Elves are nice! Nice!”

…

“Elves,” Inquisitor Shelby began as she stalked through the barracks, “Are the devil’s bastard children!” She was a gaunt woman, pale, with wavy rich black hair that matched the obsidian tinted goggles she wore at nearly all times. Red dragon scales clinked against steel chainmail, the expensive spell-proof vest serving as evidence of the inquisitor’s wealth and success in her trade.

“So, you’re sure there was an elf?” the guard captain asked uncertainly, as soon as one of his men had turned up shrunk he’d sent for the inquisitor, a woman known for hunting rogue human mages, vampires, and other supernatural troublemakers.

“Oh yes, there’s no mistaking the elven shrinking spell,” Shelby whispered, leaning over the tiny man on the captain’s desk with a grin. She snatched him up, causing a small squeak of surprise as she dangled the man by one limb. “As you can see,” she muttered, gently prodding the man in the belly with one finger, “his clothing and equipment were reduced in size with him, classic elven spellcraft! Pixies shrink only the body, leaving you struggling in your own clothing, human mages likewise target only a specific object, having to be more efficient with their mana than their elven brethren who overflow with it.”

She grinned, her ruby red lips seeming like they were painted on her otherwise pale face. She slowly opened her mouth, lowering the man in with a scream as the humid darkness. The guard captain started, and reached for her, but she held up a hand even as the man’s muffled cries for help echoed through her cheeks. She grinned, letting her tongue run over the terrified shrunken man, and then a moment later she spat him back out into her palm.

“Hmm…” Shelby muttered, “a bit off for elven magic…”

“You can taste that?” the guard captain asked incredulously.

“Most magic leaves a nearly imperceptible physical residue,” Shelby explained, “elven mages often leave a sweet taste on victims, shrinking curses, healing, a fireball,” she shrugged.

“D-Did you have to stick me in your mouth to check that?” the terrified shrunken guard stuttered

“Of course my dear boy,” Shelby said dismissively, “think of all I’ve learned!” she stroked her chin as she gently twirled the tiny man with her other hand like he was a fidget toy. He grunted and protested while she thought, and the guard captain looked on uncomfortably. “This is not the work of an Elven archmage, that’s for sure,” Shelby decided, “too bitter… no, something’s off here, but I’ll get to the bottom of it, and then we’ll hang that elf.” She gently laid the tiny guard back on his captain’s desk.

“Can you er… fix him?” the captain asked uncertainly, glancing down at his miniaturized soldier.

Shelby paused, “you’ve got a few mages running around,” she said dismissively, “have them start working on it, I’m sure they can fix him right up in a few days.”

“Of course,” the captain nodded, “where will you start your search?”

“Summer court elves have very particular tastes,” Shelby mused, “she’s behind enemy lines, likely alone, she’ll want something comforting, something… sweet.”

…

“Oh this place smells good!” Miriel said excitedly, standing in line at the bakery.

From inside her pocket Bertram sighed, Miriel had immediately gotten distracted as they’d passed the sweet shop, and her stomach growled as she diverted from the path to the fort barracks and towards the smell of baked goods.

Maybe instead of forts we should have just piled apple turnovers near the border, he thought, a little annoyed.

“Bertram,” she hissed down at her pocket.

“What?” he asked, “don’t talk to your pocket in public!”

“I don’t have any human coins!” she whispered as the line moved forward.

“Just wait until someone else’s order comes up, and go take it from the pick up window!” Bertram said, exasperated.

“B-But that’s stealing!” she whispered.

“Oh no, not stealing, if you stole something the guards might come after you!” Bertram said sarcastically, “just do it!”

Miriel gulped, stepping out of line and slowly walking over to the pickup counter. She shot a glance at the humans around her, none of them seemed to care or were wrapped up in their own affairs. Several were waiting in small chairs, presumably for their orders… one of which she was going to…

Steal, she thought, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, okay, you can do it Miriel. She took a deep breath, then snatched a small plate with a turnover on it, walking as quickly as she could for the door. By the moon! She thought excitedly as she walked out the door, it worked!

“Bertram!” she hissed, “I did it, I stole a turnover!”

“Congratulations on your life of crime,” he muttered.

“Excuse me miss,” a woman’s voice called.

Miriel stopped with a squeak of fright, then slowly turned around, the plate in her hand shaking. A pale woman with a pair of obsidian black goggles smiled at her, the red dragon scale vest shimmering slightly in the morning sun, along with the pearl gripped pair of pistols on either side of her belt.

“Shelby Graveflower, Imperial inquisitor,” she said pleasantly, closing the distance between her and the elf in a single step, “that turnover looks quite delicious…” she shot a conspiratorial glance around, “the exact kind an elf would want to eat for breakfast.”

Miriel’s heart skipped a beat, “oh well uh-“

“Quite possibly with a side of shrunken humans,” Shelby hissed. Miriel squeaked as Shelby grinned, “yes, the elves can be quite gruesome, sorry to ruin your breakfast, but I saw you and I realized right away…”

“R-Realized what!” Miriel said, closing her eyes, this is it, she knows!

“Realized I had to find the nearest bakery,” Shelby said mildly, “wherever did you get this pastry?” Miriel shakily pointed back in the direction she’d come, and Shelby smiled, “excellent my dear, I’ll have this elf behind bars before you can say shrinking spell.” With a grin the inquisitor raced off.

Bertram, who had been listening intently from inside Miriel’s pocket frowned, I really hope that woman doesn’t represent our town’s readiness for elven attack… then again, Miriel had apparently walked right in.

…

Tyrael held her hand up, causing her two apprentices to stop. So far, the trio hadn’t encountered any humans, but the smoking chimney on the farmhouse in front of them indicated the presence of the rival species.

“Mistress,” one began, “we can go around-“

Tyrael ignored her, walking up to the farmhouse. The farmer spotted her from his garden, and shouted in fear as he ran for the door. He emerged a moment later with his musket in hand, leveling it Tyrael.

“I’m warning you-“ despite the “warning” the man squeezed the trigger, and there was a boom and a puff of milky white smoke that stung the nostrils of the two apprentices, who recoiled from the noise. Tyrael just stared at the musket ball suspended in air in front of her face, and then a second later it dropped harmlessly to the ground. The farmer screamed in fright, then ran for the farmhouse.

“You stopped that human’s weapon!” one of her apprentices said excitedly. The girl ran to her side to look for injuries, “I thought that was impossible!”

“I survived the Field of Thunder girl,” Tyrael chuckled, “if I couldn’t outlast a few humans with guns, I wouldn’t be standing here.” She waved her hand, and with a flash the farmhouse was gone, replaced by a tiny structure that only came up to the archmage’s boot clad ankles.

“Gods above,” Jacen whispered, looking out the window of his farmhouse to see a column of leather rising into the sky, that’s a boot, THAT’S A BOOT!

“Now girls,” Tyrael said with a wicked chuckle, “I’ll show you just how to deal with an uppity human like this…” Her apprentices gulped nervously as she knelt down over the structure, and she couldn’t help but smirk. The two girls were from the forests, they probably hadn’t ever seen a human until now, and propaganda aside no doubt they worried she would hurt the poor thing. Slowly she put her hand, now the size of the farmhouse, outside of the door, “pspspspsspsspsp,” she began in a low whisper, as though she were calling a cat from behind a piece of furniture.

The farmer peered out, confused, “what on earth is she doing?” he asked aloud, thankful that his wife and children had gone to market today.

“Come on out!” Tyrael said in a soothing voice, “I’ve got a treat!” she produced a single berry from her pocket.

The farmer rolled his eyes, fear giving way to annoyance. Fear quickly returned as his entire house shifted as the elf picked it up.

“Come on,” Tyrael muttered, gently rocking it like a salt shaker. Finally the human tumbled out through his front door with a scream, landing in her palm. “There we go!” she grinned and held him up so the apprentices could see.

“So cute!” one of them gushed, leaning in for a closer look.

“Yes, they are,” Tyrael mused, “tell me human, did another elf come by here?”

“Yes!” he said eagerly, shifting in the room sized palm of the elf, “s-she had a blue robe on, we shut the door and didn’t talk to her!”

“That would be Miriel,” Tyrael said, gently reaching down to pat the tiny human on the head, “thank you very much!” she lowered the berry onto her palm and looked at him eagerly, with a raised eyebrow the human picked up the berry, nearly the size of his torso, and took a bite.

“Can we keep him, Tyrael?” one of the apprentices asked, causing the human to start.

“No, I’m afraid he’s got a family to take care of,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “and part of our treaty with their government says we’re not supposed to keep humans anymore.” She stood up, setting the human’s house down and finally the human himself. With wave of her finger the house was full size again, along with the farmer.

“Now if you see that other elf again, tell her that her sister is looking for her, and she’s very upset!” Tyrael said, flicking the human’s nose slightly as she turned to leave.

“Oh! We should stop by here again on the way back,” one of her apprentices said eagerly, shooting the human a wink as he gaped at the departing elves.

“We’ll see,” Tyrael said with a chuckle as they headed down the road.

Jacen the farmer stared at them for a moment, then turned back to his house, which the elf hadn’t put back in the same spot it had been. For a moment he wondered how he’d explain to his family that the house had moved a good thirty feet, and then he wondered again if he could perhaps convince his wife to move somewhere far from the Elven border.

…

“Go in with the laundry cart,” Bertram whispered, his head poking out of Miriel’s pocket.

She nodded, and as a bored looking servant opened the side entrance of the brick barracks house. Slowly she slunk inside the small door after him. The servant, stopped, then turned around as he saw the side door close with Miriel inside it.

“Hey-“ he started, but Miriel tapped his forehead, a lance of blue sparks danced up her hand, and he fell unconscious to the floor.

“Impressive,” Bertram said with a grin, “now drag him into the broom closet over there…”

…

“So where would the human mages hang out?” Miriel asked.

“They’ve got a lounge down here somewhere,” Bertram said quietly, it’s just-“

A door opened, and a stern looking older man in the ornate robe of an imperial mage stepped out, he raised an eyebrow as he saw Miriel, and Bertram ducked into her pocket as the grey haired man approached.

“Excuse me,” he barked, “what are you doing out here?”

“Uhh…” Miriel thought, “I’m here to… enlist!”

Smooth, Bertram thought miserably.

“Hmm…” The mage raised an eyebrow, “you do seem to have a lot of magical aptitude, tell me girl have you ever cast any spells before?”

“A few!” Miriel beamed.

“And what did you say your name was?” the mage asked, stroking his chin.

“Christina!” Miriel lied, throwing out the only human name she could think of.

It just gets better and better, Bertram thought in exasperation.

…

“Just fill out this quick written survey on magical concepts, and we can set up a live spell test,” the mage said excitedly, putting the paper in front of Miriel. “I can’t believe such a talented applicant would just walk in here, tell me, have you considered the Imperial Academy down in the capital?”

“Uh… well I would like to go there someday,” Miriel mused.

“I’ll just leave you to it,” the head mage said eagerly, stepping outside.

Miriel licked her lips nervously, then slowly drew Bertram out of her pocket, setting him down on the table next to a field sized paper.

“What?” Bertram hissed, “you can’t seriously be thinking about doing the test!?”

“Well we need to find the other mages and see if any of them are the ones that made you tiny,” Miriel said excitedly, “so far I know it wasn’t that lead guy, his magic feels way different than the one that shrank you… now help me with this test, there are a lot of human specific questions on here… like if I was working in a unit with cold blooded allies what healing spells would I avoid?”

“How the hell should I know?” Bertram asked, “aren’t elves way better mages than humans? You should ace this thing!”

“Our empire only has elves living in it!” Miriel protested, “and all of our combat spells are based on fighting…”

“Humans?” Bertram asked, crossing his arms and looking up at the massive elf.

“Yeah,” Miriel said sheepishly, “or other elves… like this here has a section on combating… what exactly is a Scylla?”

“I imagine if you shoot enough fireballs at it it doesn’t matter what it is,” Bertram said.

“I’ll put fire, and lots of it!” Miriel said. She stood up, slowly pacing as she read the paper, “now… a draugr…”

“Fire?” Bertram asked with a shrug, “just put that for everything.”

The door burst open suddenly, and Miriel started, rocking the small desk and sending Bertram tumbling down into the seat. He was too stunned to scream, but when his back slammed into the seat, feeling like a 50-foot drop, it didn’t hurt much, like he’d just fallen out of bed…

Benefits of being small, he thought in a daze.

“I heard there was a new mage applicant,” Shelby muttered, her dragonscale vest clinking as she barged into the room, “any and all magic users need to be scrutinized by-“ she frowned, “you’re the girl from before… from the pastry shop!”

Miriel tried not to look at Bertram as she kept eye contact with the inquisitor, slowly circling around the desk, “Uh, yes, good to see you again!”

Bertram looked up and his eyes went wide as he saw pert leather trouser clad elven bottom the size of a barn beginning to descend on him, “Miriel!” he squeaked, “wait-“

“What was that?” Shelby asked as Miriel’s bottom came down on the shrunken human, silencing him.

“Nothing, just a cough,” Miriel said, miming a cough into her hand.

Beneath her Bertram struggled feebly, the soft globes of the elf’s cheeks providing enough pressure to hold him in place, but with all the pressure it wasn’t enough to crush him. He grunted as he tried to keep breathing, somehow the elf had that same fresh floral scent rolling off her, even down here, and it filled his lungs as he fought for any bit of air he could get.

Shelby leaned over the table, looking at the exam Miriel had been taking, “so… you’re a mage?”

“Uh yes, I was just thinking about enlisting-“ she was cut off as Shelby grabbed a strand of her blonde hair, sniffing it a moment, causing the elf to blush and wonder if the wig and hat were hiding her heritage enough.

“You are highly suspicious,” Shelby muttered.

“W-What, me?” Miriel exclaimed, “No! I’m just a simple mage looking for work!”

From underneath her bottom Bertram groaned, feeling her grinding her enormous ass down on him nervously. He was shifted around, pressed into the hard surface of the chair by the warm jiggling mass that seemed to mold around him, unyielding as he struggled for the edge, hoping to escape being pulverized into a red splotch by Miriel’s backside.

“No, it’s very clear what’s going on here…” Shelby said with a grin, a gleam seeming to shine behind her obsidian goggles, “you were at the shop, where an elf would want to have breakfast, and now you’re here at the imperial mage’s barracks, where an elf would want to infiltrate our magical defenses… Bertram screamed in frustration, his tiny shout muffled, but still heard underneath Miriel’s bottom. She squeaked; her face red as Shelby’s grin widened. “Get up!” she ordered, and with a sigh Miriel slowly lifted off the chair, revealing a red faced and nearly flattened Bertram.

“And a shrinking victim too!” Shelby crowed in triumph, quickly snatching up Bertram and causing him to cry out in surprise as he was dangled in front of her pale face by a single arm, “yes… I know exactly what’s going on here!”

“Yes,” Miriel said softly, “I… I suppose it’s fairly obvious-“

“You’re looking for the elf too!” Shelby said.

Miriel blinked, “Er… yes, you’ve caught me.”

“Obviously you stumbled upon this little victim of her shrinking spell,” she shook Bertram, “and you wanted to use him to try to track the elf rather than turn him over to the guards for help… very cutthroat, but I understand…”

“Yes,” Bertram deadpanned, “that’s exactly how it happened, you’re a brilliant detective.”

“A flatterer of a tiny man,” Shelby laughed, tossing him back towards Miriel, who snatched him out of the air and hugged him close to her chest. “Now then, I obviously can’t dissuade patriots like the two of you from helping with the elf hunt, so I suggest we combine forces.”

Miriel beamed, “Oh, okay!” she said eagerly while Bertram shook his head in a furious “no.”

“Now I must warn you,” Shelby began, “the elf is likely a deviant, it’s entirely possible she’s shrinking humans to add to her collection of living sex toys!”

“Goodness!” Miriel said, her face red, “y-you think the elf wants humans for-“

“Oh most definitely,” Shelby said, “imagine this, she finds a man she fancies, someone cute like our little… whathisname here-“

“Bertram,” he said with a sigh.

“Bertram,” Shelby continued, “she shrinks him small, then she slides him right down the front of her smallclothes, trapping him against her womanhood, think about it, it would be as large as he was, he would be helpless before her, with no choice but to pleasure his elven mistress or be smothered by the intoxicating smell of her lust!”

“Wow,” Miriel said, her face flushed. Bertram grunted as her grip on him tightened.

“And then, to add insult to the injury, after enjoying countless rounds of bliss at the hand of her poor human prisoner, she’d relax by making him rub her feet,” Shelby said, tinges of red glowing in the centers of her own chalky white cheeks, “i-it’s disgusting to even think about!”

“Y-Yeah,” Miriel agreed, gulping.

Shelby cleared her throat, “now, the elf is quite perfidious, she could be right under our noses-“

“Imagine that,” Bertram said, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Don’t worry tiny man,” Shelby said, “with the three of us working together, that elf won’t be able to kidnap you, ravage your tiny body, or make you worship her like some demented goddess!”

“D-Definitely,” Miriel agreed.

Bertram sighed, having a good idea of what was going to happen to him the next time Miriel got him alone.

…

Nen chuckled, looking over the wagon full of elven goods while Bula loaded it just outside the city walls. The green skinned pair had met outside the city, eager to get their illicit goods out of town while the guards were preoccupied with searching for the elf.

“It’s crazy, one little elf comes along and suddenly humies all love a girl with green skin,” Bula mused, “now usually there’s at least one in any tavern who wants to get pinned to the wall… but it’s like all the pinkskins suddenly want someone big and strong to protect them!”

“I know right?” Nen laughed, “usually they’re all like, get out of here, but suddenly it’s all, ‘hi Miss goblin, would you like a free meal on the house Miss goblin?” She snapped her fingers, levitating the last of the crates into the wagon with magic, “almost makes me feel bad that I was the one what shrunk them humies.”

“Eh, that elf probably was up to no good anyways, maybe we did them a favor?” Bula said with a shrug.

“I like it,” Nen said, “if you think about it we’re heroes, depriving the elven terror state of the tax revenue for these goods!”

“And the Human state too…” Bula said uncertainly.

Nen laughed, “yeah… well, my highest calling is profit. Let’s get this stuff to the cave.”

The pair of smugglers boarded the wagon, cracking the horse’s reigns as they sped off to the secret hideout where the smuggling ring stored illicit goods.