Adriel thwapped away vines that fell down to her face, lagging a bit behind her friend Serielye. “It’s so musty and gross…” she complained, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud.” The other elf responded. They’d been digging through this ancient High Elf tomb for hours a day for the past few weeks. It was beginning to become tedious, but really there wasn’t a better option for employment. Ever since the high elves up and left the realm on relatively bad terms with the humans, it seemed the brunt of the disdain was directed towards wood elves like them who remained.

And so they usually found trinkets, relics, jewelry, things of the sort. But since they weren’t the only ones doing this and they did it frequently: they often had to go deeper and deeper. “Help me push this door open! It’s—hnng! It’s gotta have something good behind it!” Serielye heaved. She was a bit smaller than her friend, more petite and lithe. Not unnaturally so, but compared to the relatively well-endowed and taller Adriel she was more of a ranger-looking type, where as Adriel seemed to have the body type for a bathhouse as many humans commented at the bars. Between her well-done French braids, her caramel skin, her soft thighs, and her large breasts, she could see where they were coming from. Seri kept her hair more in a ponytail, it’d be going too far to call her a tomboy, but she certainly could fit the bill by a certain stretch.

“Sure.” Adriel pulled while her comrade pushed, and together the odd hexagonal door flung down and they crawled through the minor crevice that opened in the corner. The room they entered was lined with shelves as far as one could see. Going up dozens of feet, off in the distance it seemed like staircases led to even more floors of the same. Tossing aside cobwebs and moving up to one… ”It’s a library!” Adriel shouted, pulling a book off the shelf. The disinterested Seri seemed to meander around it, dragging a finger along the dusty ends of shelf to shelf. “It’s…it’s…” Adriel opened the book excitedly before heaving a weak sigh, “It’s all in Seldruin.”

“Like the dead language that no elf knows?”

“I’m sure some high elves know it, it’s just…”

“Useless to us. And any buyers.”

“I’m sure someone will get something. Or there’s something readable here; just give me a bit. Help me look for anything important.”

“Sure, we’ll split up. Find important stuff that way.” Seri had suggested, hiding behind a series of desks and tapping her fingers against the desk she leaned on. “Find anything yet?!” her friend shouted from an unknown location after a few minutes of Seli doing nothing. “Oh uh…um, nothing yet.” She fumbled around the desk. Pulling a book out and opening it quickly. Seldruin. She fiddled through the pages, it looked handwritten. And she even recognized that word at the top right corner. ‘Large.’ She rolled her eyes, knowing it only because enough drunk high elves commented on her breasts with it.

Scowling and grumbling she tried to read the page, their alphabets weren’t too terribly off. “Caelael ol col, Tandraer os mys, maer tia vyrdaer, maer tia thys…” she read in a hushed voice to herself, before seeing the other fork of words below. She picked one at random. “Pyrdi.” No more than an instant later the book jittered and puffed a bit of smoke as she felt herself squeezing. No…she felt squeezed, but she expanded. She looked around, down. Side to side. She was double her old height. She was about eleven and a half feet. “Addrriieelllll.” She called, hearing her friends feet pitter patter through the halls as she ran towards her.

“Find anythi—" she stopped herself. There was a moment of silence where they just stared at each other and blinked. “What?” Adriel cocked her head. “Uh the book sorta just did it. I read the page and it happened.” Suddenly things made sense. The larger doors, the looming halls, the huge corridors and foyers. This place a library for odd magics. This entire system of caverns was. “Lemme see!” she scrambled for the book, Seri didn’t stop her. She performed the same thing, reading it, though she opted to go a different route. She choose another word near the bottom, “Cyri.” And she felt the same sensation as she sputtered up to twenty five feet.

“What…did you even pick? Let me see!” Seri grabbed at the book as her friend snickered, she read it off, choosing now the third word. “Tari.” As she was pumped up to just over eighty feet. She swayed her hips side to side, “Very fun.”

“Seri!” her friend shouted, causing the busty blonde with caramel skin to bend down over her breasts and smirk. “Yes?”

“How do you plan on getting out?” the other girl gestured to the door, her white pony tail flickering and tossing from her uppity disposition.

“Easy, here.” Seri tossed the book to Adriel and sauntered over to the door. Books began to fall off the shelf and dust was unsettling from shaking chandeliers as she walked. Seri took a deep breath in and delivered a quick side kick to the wall where the door was. The door unhinged and fell down, much of the wall cracking.

“Seri! SERI!” her friend shouted, “Hm?” she turned around, leg about to deliver another kick. “These things, this whole place! It’s ancient! And historic!” she added. “Yeah. To high elves.” Seri said. Kick. “Well…I guess you’re right, they wouldn’t respect our natural sites, yeah?” Adriel agreed, reading from the book to swell herself to eighty feet, delivering a few kicks before they squeezed through the rubble.

They began to make their way for the exit, really what else could you want from a place like this. But they overheard some drunken slurring in the distance as they stopped right before a corner.

“Yeah this place is uh, it used to be some daggerear home. They left all their shit here when we scared em off.”

“Ay! I’d love to find me one, crawlin’ round ‘ere. Gross and pissy, put em in their place, y’know? Show em why they shoulda ran with’in their pals.”

“Ahh yeah! Really whomp em! I hope we do find one.”

Seri, typically aloof, rolled her eyes and turned the corner. Her expression of distain turned to scornful happiness. She smiled and couldn’t help but laugh, three pot-belied bearded dwarves didn’t reach past her ankles. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty, gentlemen.”

The dwarves could only stare in horror. No one really prepares themselves for this sort of thing, let alone in a cavern. None of them said a thing for a few moments, just slowly backing up. “Just give em one of these, right?” she lifted her gladiator sandal off the ground and slammed it down, she expected a big splat, but instead it was like stepping on some sort of pine cone or stuffed food. It crunched and exploded horrifically. Not nearly as simple and clean as she’d like, but he was dead beyond a shadow of a doubt. Or a shadow of a foot.

The other two had drastically different options. The first just heaved over, falling to his knees and puking while the other ran, screaming a bellowing and deep scream. “Seri you can’t just—agh!!” her friend shouted, running after the other dwarf and passing a glare to her friend while she did so. Each footfall of Adriel shook the dwarf, he didn’t get far, and as she closed in the rocks around him were tossed up and down, his footing failed. He fell. Crawling onto his back and squirming backwards he craned his neck up the thigh high green boots she wore, past her green and yellow tunic, up to her tanned face and green eyes, two white locks of hair framing her face after they’d escaped the ponytail.

“Please miss, I, we. I didn’t mean it. I swear!”

“I’m sure you didn’t, really,” she spoke while slowly lifting her boot up, ever so slowly, his end was abundantly clear but she inadvertently made him hang in limbo waiting for it to happen as she spoke, showing off the underside of her boot. “But between what my friend did, and this thing we found. Well the way we are, now, I guess. Between it all I just can’t let you go. I’m sorry it’s just wrong place wrong time, you know? It’s not personal.” Stomp. She slammed her foot down as hard as she could, if only to make it quicker for him.

She sighed and turned around, “Seri you can’t just…” she noticed her friend, slowly pressing her sandal-clad foot down onto the dwarf, “Go on, push. Show me what you’d give me.” Seri said, the swarf screaming and pushing. Crunch. He clearly wasn’t going to give her enough.

“Come on, lets go to River’s Mouth.” Seri suggested.

“How do we get smaller, though?”

“Why would we want to be smaller? I figured we get larger before going.”

“Not when you’re acting like this!”

“Especially when we’re acting like this!”

“We’re?!”

“Check the bottom of your boot, Adriel.”

…there was a silence as Adriel didn’t respond.

“You know you want to.” Seri nudged. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Once out of the cave system, they fiddled with the book a bit more, it seemed to have adequately scaled with them, so they debated on using the next word. “Mosi.” They each said, reading the spell together. They smiled at each other as they grew more. Reaching over the tree line easily they kept going. And going.

They stopped around 1000 ft. The town seemed forgettable at this size, it looked like a little patch of dirt almost. But that wouldn’t stop them, they already promised each other they’d go to it.

To the townsfolk, they merely saw darkened shapes on the horizon, looming and slowly approaching. The only thing to dwarf them would be the mountains that surrounded them. Each footfall of Seri and Adriel knocked trinkets and silverware around in the inn, the sounds of the surrounding region being reshaped by their steps audible between the quaking booms that were their actual steps.

Nearing the town, their faces finally became visible to the townsfolk, if not a bit blurred and far off, though recognizable. How many wood elves did a small town like them even have? Not many, at least by number. By volume, they now had much more than they bargained for. The elves stopped just short of the town, each one on a flank of it.

Adriel had bent over, hands-on-knees and butt-on-heels as she peered down, her green eyes peering down into the town. Nothing of this caliber or magnitude had ever even neared this town, and so her mere presence was intimidating, her casual breathing fogging up windows and glasses alike, cloaks and tunics were lifted and blown away causing her to smile and exhale more from a stifled laugh.

Seri, meanwhile, had stood tall, hands-on-hips, she lifted her toes that she painted a bright cyan. “This’ll be,” she set her toes down, causing a puff of air to be sent out, taking tiles off of buildings and knocking fleeing people over, “so much fun.”

“You can’t step on everything, Seri.” Her friend protested.

“Of course not, you’ll step on some.” She responded, lifting her foot up, the shadow engulfing an entire district of the town, dirt and tree and boulder falling from the sky that was the underside of Seri’s shoe, crashing into the ground with immense force.

THU-THU-THU-THUMP.

Her grand first step was interrupted by a horrible shaking that caused her to step backwards and steady herself, landing with her sandal caught backwards, she left a large print of five toes in the ground a she groaned.

THU-THU-THU-THUMP.

“What the f—” she began, before an absolutely echoing “Hyyaaaaahhh~” of a yawn cut her off. Is that what she sounded like to the tiny villagers? Both of the elves turned their gazes to the direction it came from.

Leaning on a mountain was…another elf. Pale. Straight bangs, dark hair, two little pieces falling down in front. Her golden eyes flickered with apathy and scorn, an odd combination to say the least.

“I’m not surprised you found the book. But I’m moderately impressed you could use it.” She began another yawn that led into her next sentence. “Aahhhhnnnyway. I’m gonna snatch that thing, you can stay the size you are, I don’t care much at all about this…” meanwhile Seri had opened the book, she’d be damned if someone was going to take it from her. Reading the final word she felt an instant of swelling before she was hit with what felt like a ton of bricks jammed into a headache.

She clutched at her head as the size fell. She deflated down and down, not even noticing it because of the terrible feeling that seemed like her brain was boiling and bleeding. “Let’s…not.” The large elf said, then holding up the tome, Seri no longer having it. One would wonder how she countered the spell and teleported it, but when you can actually use the thing in question, knowing it’s ins and outs isn’t too difficult. Adriel glanced back and forth, realizing that Seri was now regular-sized and in her own toeprint, an inescapable crater of irony. And a literal crater.

The other elf rose up, her pale skin contrasting with the way her bangs shadowed her golden eyes. The eyes gleamed a horrible hatred through the shadow, the thooming and sound of her rising being a harbinger for her scale, but the mountains also bowed to her, she had to be at least ten miles.

“The hard way is fine, too.”

The clouds in the sky visible parted from her movements, the long billowing white robes and leathery white boots accentuated by golden metal filigree and black threading and secondary coloring all moving in such a slow yet powerful motion that they threw winds that reformed the sky.

“I hope,” THOOM, her foot landing erupted the landscape, “you don’t mind me joining you.” The trees that Adriel and Seri had cracked and tickles with their walk were ground to a literal pulp beneath the step, the other nearby trees being sent out from the gust as wind. A cracking and rumbling erupted in the distance as the townsfolk looked around to notice the mountains on the horizon were spilling up landslides and avalanches.

Adriel felt her heart nearly beating out of her chest, and not just from the steps, but from the fear. She glanced over to where Seri once was and she sprinted over towards her, her boots landing on pockets of people with a horrific crunch, and while she was typically opposed to wanton killing or destruction, this had a purpose.

Perhaps it was for the best, those people beneath Adriel’s boots may be lucky, they couldn’t even make out the high elf off in the distance, she little more than a natural disaster to them, above the clouds and commanding the Earth itself, and so as Adriel sprinted through, her green boots flattening person and home alike, kicking through inns and markets and churches as they reduced to splintered rubble and pebbles from her jogs.

THOOM came the next step, and Adriel tumbled, losing her balance and rolling through the edge of town like a boulder, crushing people and infrastructure beneath her entire self. A snicker from heaven on high followed her embarrassing tumble as she crawled onto all fours. Arriving at where Seri once was, the smaller bustier elf saw the green eyes of her friend replace the once-blue sky.

Peering and looking on all fours for Seri, Adriel was oblivious to the high elf doing the exact same, kneeling herself down and leaning over the town, she had assumed the most recent booms and shakes were more footsteps.

Seri watched as the area behind Adriel became filled with the golden eyes, the black hair, the smug grin. The lips parted, as the other elf let out a low laugh, soft and warm, her breath made the air on Adriel’s neck stand up. “I believe I’m in a position to kill a few thousand birds with one stone.” Adriel quickly tried to turn over, scooting herself backwards and away from the looming face, but with the high elf over fifty times her size, and tens of thousands times the size of a normal person, she made insignificant progress before the white-gloved fingers pinched at her.

“It’s nothing tough, miss, just be my stone.” Whatever that meant held horrible implications. Perhaps it was the sadistic sneer, perhaps it was the tone of her voice, perhaps the devilish look in her burning golden eyes, but it pushed Adriel’s heart into the bottom of her stomach. Two of the high elves fingers ran up to pluck at Adriel’s legs, pinching around her knee-section while the other two fingers of the other hand held her waist.

The massive high elf couldn’t stifle her laughs with both hands full, and as she pulled apart the wood elf she laughed, her bellowing yet girlish voice collapsing many of the buildings, wood cracking, splintering, heaving and groaning from the way her mere voice shook the town. The groaning of those inanimate objects was nothing to the screams and protests of Adriel, though.

Tears and screams seemed endless, as did the few moments that it lasted, her protest falling on deaf ears as the large mage pulled more and more, eventually seeing a red sinew form as Adriel was splitting at the seams of her hips. “There…” she pulled more, eventually splitting the wood elf in two, “..there.” Adriel was crying and thrashing her arms, blood pouring out of her as she was haphazardly dropped, along with her legs, into the center of town. “Feel free to go save your friend, now. My work is done.”

Blood, like a flooding river, flowed out of Adriel and into the streets of the ruins of the town. Unchecked flooding was dangerous, but the thick blood was even more so, people could hardly swim out, and anything checked by it’s force and inertia was floored, demolished or consumed within it. It was mad only worse by the way Adriel crawled through town, allowing it to spread and fill more and more areas, her once cute seated position with hands-in-palms and elbows-on-knee and butt-on-heels now adopted by the high elf who had a beaming smile.

The macabre endeavor continued on for a few moments, the high elf not being able to make out the weak cries of Adriel that she seemed to say to her small friend, but that didn’t matter now.

The town was beyond disarray, it would even be too generous to call it a town or village. It was a series of rubble and bodies, pooling in portions with Adriel's blood and tears. Families were caught in various portions in cellars or second-stories of buildings, there were those crushed beneath her severed legs.

She held onto the book that her new friends had grabbed for her and she began to stand up, once again making the winds and clouds bend to her very existence.

She walked off, stepping over the town as the sole of her boot replaced the sky for a good few seconds, her movement being more powerful than much of nature and her stature dwarfing anything that should be allowed into existence. She grabbed at a tome that was chained to her hip and flipped through it, each page turn sounding like a hurricane moving further and further away to the dimming ears of Adriel. “Mmm…Castle Lewood next? I’ve heard their pastries are delightful.”

“Eh? I this is…it’s it. I must be a complete klutz.” The large elf laughed. Her white booties swung as she sat on the cliff that the castle was built into, leading to her black stockings that went up to the white robes. Characteristic sadistic grin, golden eyes present along with the black hair and hime-cut farming her face. “Here I expected more.” She pressed a palm to her cheek. “How silly of me to expect as much from humans.”

The castle, looming at an impressive 400 feet, was paled by her 1500 foot frame. The heels and underside of her booties already demolishing some of the higher pillars, she finished her massive cup of tea, set it to the side on the cliff and hopped down with a girlish “Hyup!” that was followed by a bellowing tremor and rumbling, her feet landing square in the barracks of the city. To call it rubble would do it a disservice, it became apocalyptic around her feet, the resulting crash making something of a crater that person and building alike crumpled into. “So fragile.” She mused, lifting up a leg and flicking her ankle, tossing the pieces of rubble and life that clung to the tip of her boots off in the distance.

She turned around and peered in to the castle, or the upper portion. She couldn’t quite see anyone readily there, no surprise. “I’ll be with you in a moment, so please be patient, okay?” Her fingers, with the white leather gloves squeezed, easily shattering the roof, in the lower portions where the inhabitants of the castle hid they had dust fall from the rafters, boards creaking and heaving, and yet all she did was grip at the roof. From her hands little ethereal sewing needles sprouted, materializing from nothing and- as if with a mind of their own- ran around the castle, treating it like cloth. They had a glowing blue thread that followed them as they found any opening and stitched it close, the doorways and windows becoming glowing blue walls. “My own toy castle…” she softly whispered, the words echoing to those hiding within, “But work should be done first, no? Of course it should.”

She stood up onto her tip-toes and twirled around and nodded. Lifting her foot, it dropped rubble and dust. In the city below her slightest movement shook the ground, it commanded the earth. She seemed to tower endlessly into the sky, more so than the castle that they all admired and were so proud of. The magnificent pillars and spires were nothing in the face of her lithe legs in their black stockings. “So first…” she thought aloud, foot hovering in the air, boulders raining from underneath it. Golden eyes darting around, she eventually spotted another spire. It was more of a little stick, than a spire, but regardless, the cathedral had caught her attention. Lowering her foot slowly, the displacement of the air alone let out a hum as it approached.

Touching down, the heel of her bootie crashed effortlessly through the window, displaying itself proudly above the altar as it threw down chandeliers and shards of glass, hovering in the main area. Hordes of cowering families screamed and hugged their children as it displayed itself. Meanwhile the roof groaned in protest from the toe portion and the underside being pressed into it. “Is it somehow foreshadowing that I destroyed an image of your god? Or…would it have been foreshadowing if I did it at normal size? Common is such a poor language.”

Amid the pressure of the boot and the echoes of the elven voice teasing them, people were fleeing the cathedral. Doors had been flung open with crowds and countless people, families, children, priests, all types running in hordes. They weren’t quite worth noticing, however, since even the slightest angling and pressure from her feet changing caused the ground to tremble. Her foot that was not on the cathedral, when shifted just now, had impacted the ground and caused a minor divot. People slid downwards from the sloping crater as they slammed into and piled up down at her foot, fighting and clawing in piles to get out.

She then pressed her foot more and more, making dust and tiny pieces of stone fall from the ceiling, this only continued for a second or two before she truly pressed.  And once she did, the entire structure buckled and fell, a horrific crunch, splat, and the sound of collapsing bricks melded it one. She dragged her foot back, smearing the red liquid and mixing it with the dirt and dust into a paste that muddled the bottom of a crater that was her shoe print.

The crowds were ground into a pulp despite their fleeing, albeit not all of them were killed under foot. Many were slammed by rubble from other collapsing buildings and others were killed from the mere force sent out from the impact, much like an explosion of sorts. Those in the divot were treated as if it was some kind of brutal meat grinder or wood chipper, each tiny movement allowing a portion of a person to slip underneath before it got juiced. One leg, body, or person at a time they worked effortlessly to stain her white booties.

“And so next is the ironworks, yes? Polluting so wantonly.” She lifted and shook her foot again, getting the real remains of a false religion off of her shoe. Taking steps without a single care for those below, their lives would flash before their eyes. The world quickly darkening and then ending, the only thing they feel- be they in buildings, streets, or otherwise- is a heaving pressure and then the blackness of death. Each step let out a large thud and puffs of debris and smoke, those near but not under her steps seeing and hearing the hum of her foot as it came down and ascended, like a meteor landing and leaving. She didn’t quite pay them little mind; she paid them no mind. Once the ironworks was reached, though, she squat down in her stereotypical pose. “Crushing it would damage my boots. And so now comes the time in my job where creativity is needed.” She pursed her lips and pinched the roof of the large factory.

Pulling, the corner of the roof ripped off, but that was it. She made a dissatisfied grumble as she pushed a finger into the facility through the hole, easily squishing a few stray workers without even intending to, the size of the digit making the process unavoidable. She wiggled and squirmed it, sticking a tongue out in thought, inside she knocked about coal and hot metals, creating a torturous procedure that many of the employees probably wished was just a footstep. The metal burned and ignited parts of the building, and once her finger had got a good grip, she pulled again, finally getting the rest of the roof off. “How clumsy,” she said, viewing the facility in disarray as it was flooding with metal and burning, “Allow..” she pursed her lips again, pausing. She spit, a large glob of sweet elven spit splattering into the facility and flooding it more than the metal and coal ever could. The impact killing many, others surviving broken as they drowned in the thick substance. “Me.”

She stood up, letting out a contented sigh. Lifting the foot, she gave a little princess-style wave to them before slamming it down, the characteristic puff of smoke and echoing sound emanating outward. She then scraped it backwards, a thicker paste being created from her spit, she was quick to wipe it off on a nearby mineshaft, letting it seep down into it, the mix of spit, rubble, metal, coal, and blood flooding the shaft and rendering it not only useless, but also trapping any inside. With those two tasks complete she looked at the tome chained to her hip.

“Early? I seem to be so good at my job, wouldn’t you all agree?” she blushed, pressing a hand to her cheek before tapping the heel of her foot a few times, shaking the area around her. Fortunately it was just the slums of ironworks employees, nothing to fret about. The shanties and tents and shacks of escaped employees, widows, and families collapsed in on themselves or swayed and took irreparable damage due to her tiny little thought process. Inside the shacks, new widows and abandoned families clung together under tables, tears falling down each of their faces. Many of the mothers promised their children daddy would be home, others saying it was all a dream. Others had no such thing as a coping mechanism, after all: you may prepare for war or famine, but absolute decimation of your life and having your father drowned in spit while you pray the elf doesn’t step on your shack is another thing. Their homes were collapsing around them.

Her foot continued to tap as she eventually stopped and slammed the book shut, the moment of silence seemed to add more fear to the families in the slums, afraid that her feet were lifting or that her job wasn’t quite done. Deep in the houses, far below the elf, it would be difficult to notice much. The streets were littered with rubble and the houses were echoing with screams and cries, impacting homes and poorly-made structural supports resulting in the death toll rising rapidly just from her foot tapping. Walls, stones, and pillars impacted children and wives alike, not even quite worth dying under her foot, but instead collateral damage to her existence. “If I’m done early…I can visit some tea shops.”