From her soaring height, she could see the forest rolled on endlessly to the horizon. It was almost too overwhelming too look at, so she dropped her eyes back onto the path straight ahead, trying to focus on where she’d last seen Chase. The ground shuddered under her immense weight, and trees tore out of her path, but she moved briskly on, feeling a little guilty at commotion she was causing, but there was nothing she could do about it right now.

Every so often she thought she saw Chase flit between the trees; a fleeing shadow. Sometimes he would pause, and then dart off in some other direction. He was fast like wildfire, though. She had no idea how he was keeping ahead of her.

Finally she spotted him waiting, half-hidden in the branches of an oak tree. She realized why he’d stopped. The land climbed abruptly ahead, and where there were hills or mountains, she had the clear advantage. An effortful uphill hike for him was a couple of light skips for her. She would have overtaken him in a second.

She was approaching the oak when a needle poked out from between the leaves. She stopped and stared. It was a tiny arrow.

“Move a single muscle, Gelf,” an unfamiliar male voice said firmly, “and this arrow will pierce your jugular vein, injecting you with enough basilisk venom to take down ten of your beastly kind.”

“No!” she gasped, taking a step back. “I wasn’t chasing you; I-I thought you were someone else.” In the back of her mind she thought: if she wasn’t chasing Chase, then where the heck was he? She must have lost him miles back – but she’d worry about that later. This dude with the arrow didn’t sound like he was messing around.

“State your name,” the voice said.

“Madison,” she said, swallowing hard. “Don’t worry, I’m not evil or anything.”

The little figure crouched in the trees seemed to scrutinize her a moment longer, and then leapt nimbly down, landing silently on the ground in a way that made her thing of a cat, and coming into the moonlight where she saw his face.

He was definitely not one of them. He had elf features, dark piercing eyes, and pointed ears, very long silvery hair and was wearing light elven armour. He was a game character, she realised. Was this really an actual land? She wondered in awe – with actual people living in it, just like in the game box art?

But what struck her the most, and causing a warm blush to rise in her cheeks: the little elf man was hot. Like, really hot. Like, you could destroy the One Ring in the fires of his hotness. But, not just hot, even better; downright beautiful, angelic, like a perfect little sculpture come to life.

Her heart felt like it had tightened. Feeling a little dizzy, she sunk to her knees slowly, and then glanced over to see something padding through the trees towards the elf. Oh, just when it could not get any better.

It was a kitten-sized silver horse. The elf stepped back; not turning his back on her, and pulled the horse’s reigns close. Compared to her, the elf was a little doll standing alongside a horse that was just a toy.

“Oh my God!” she squealed, and a flock of crows burst into the air from the treetops. The horse’s eyes dilated at her in alarm. “Is that a pony? It’s so tiny and adorable!”

“Deiros is not a ‘pony’,” the elf said stiffly, “He is a noble stallion. Nor is he ‘tiny’ and ‘adorable’ – it is you who is big and ungainly, Gelf.”

“But you’re a Gelf, too!”

He laughed arrogantly.

“No, praise the Gods, I am not. I am an Elf, blessed with agility and stealth.”

“Oh no, do you rhyme too?”

“That lyrical flourish was quite accidental.”

“Thank God. So what is a ‘Gelf’ – giant elf? Is that it?”

“Some say that. But it’s godforsaken elf, at least according to me.”

“Why are you so pissed off?” she mock pouted. “Can I just point out,” she added, “how cute you are? You are so cute,” she cooed. “Can I pick you up?”

“I demand you stop infantilizing my noble mount,” he said.

“I wasn’t talking about your horse. But he’s really cute, too.”

The elf sighed.

“You certainly don’t hide from anyone your outsider background when it’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Outsider?” she clarified. “If you mean I wasn’t born here, then you’re right. This place just kind of appeared.”

The elf nodded.

“You are no native. Your odd, crude speech makes that very plain. I met another outsider a long time ago. You are lucky I am familiar with your kind, otherwise I would have killed you without hesitation.”

“Well, thank you!” she said earnestly. “My hero! Can I repay you somehow? How about a kiss?” She slid forward further down on her hands, puckering her lips and closing her eyes. The horse snorted in alarm. The elf quirked an eyebrow in distaste.

“Don’t prostrate yourself to me,” the elf demanded, making her stop and open her eyes in disappointment. “At your magnificent size, you put yourself to shame. Why the Gods wasted such awesome power on an Elf with all the modesty and manners of a Gorc, remains a great mystery to me.”

Feeling a little put out now, Madison scooted back a little and folded her arms.

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“You do not have the right to demand it. But I will volunteer it; I am Prince Lorandir, of the house of Arathel, in Falior.”

She squeezed her palms together. “Oooh, a prince – I had no idea! That’s so cool! Where’s Falior?”

“You’ll soon learn. We are borne there immediately.”

“We? Borne?”

“I cannot let you rampage around my woodland unsupervised. And in your interest, you would, sooner or later bumble upon one of my kin not so compassionate to Gelves as am I. And that would prove to be a fatal mistake, on your part.”

“Can you please protect me, your highness?”

“Alas, I cannot protect you from yourself.”

“Are there more little elves at your kingdom?” she perked up, “Just like you?”

The Prince’s lips turned down in a silent snarl. Then he mounted Deiros.

“Follow my lead, Gelfess,” he said, as Madison got to her feet. “I will not slow; I presume you will easily keep pace.”

Then he made a rapid fire gesture with his hand, causing the air around them to hum and waver like light seen underwater, containing them in a big transparent dome.

“What is that?!” Madison yelped.

“Maintain your wits. It’s a ward. No one will harm us while I take us to my kingdom. Leave it’s vicinity at your own peril.”

Then he hollered out a command in some foreign language, and the tiny horse charged out through the trees. Madison jumped forward eagerly, but it wasn’t too difficult to keep up. It was a little like chasing a puppy – kind of fun, even. More difficult was it to dodge all the trees. Some of the smaller ones she could take in a leap like hurdles, but most were too tall and she had to avoid them. Sometimes there just wasn’t a clear path for her, and she had to sidewind around a dense thicket. But the Elf Prince graciously slowed his steed whenever this happened, and sped up once satisfied she was close on his tail again. A few times she not only caught up to him, but was able to get in front of him. She began getting more and more bold, running backwards in front of the horse – much to the Elf’s chagrin – or trying to get him to run the horse between her legs, or running up close enough to the horse to bend quickly and tickle the Elf Prince’s ribs, or playfully gesture as if to threaten to pull him clean off the horse’s back.

“Almost gotcha, cutie!” she sang, after swooping down on him yet again.

The horse tossed its head, while the elf shrieked some foreign curse word up at her. His face was very red now.

Straightening again, she gasped with laughter, the dire situation far from her mind, for the time being.

They descended into a meandering valley, hidden from above by its shelter under a tall pine forest. The trees were tall – sequoia tall – tall enough to almost completely hide Madison, at least as long as she stood still. She noticed that as they entered this forest, some text at the top of her wristband’s screen changed to say: Level 7: City of Falior.

Level 7? She wondered. But wasn’t the previous place only Level 1? – bit of a jump somewhere around there. Maybe some levels had passed by, it wasn’t like she’d really been keeping count. Maybe Lorandir had taken her through a shortcut. Oh well. Who was complaining?

Falior was a sprawling city of bronze wooden constructions that were intermeshed with the natural environment. It’s existence was a testament to the elves’ love of nature and their skill with magic. Buildings protruded from and curved around trees in intricate suspended villages that defied gravity. Someone of the huts seemed to float in the air, not apparently supported by anything. That had to be the work of magic. Although Madison was wonderstruck by the scenery, she was also touched by regret that, at her size, she could not enter any of the cute little houses. She was certain they must look as – if not more – wondrously quaint on the inside than they did on the outside.

The elves gave her a huge radius of space. At first it made her feel like royalty, and then, like someone shunned.

You guys, don’t be afraid of me, she thought sadly, I’m not going to hurt you, as the enormous sole of her bare foot almost came crashing down on a male Elf who was half-hidden amongst the grass, sitting still and cross-legged in pensive meditation – at least until Lorandir turned around and shrieked his head off at the last second, causing her to recant in shock, and the meditating elf to jump up and get out of her way.

Well, that was an accident. She’d gotten distracted. Who could blame her? The male Elves were as handsome as Lorandir, she observed. The women were flawlessly beautiful, too. No wonder Lorandir was so dismissive about her, she thought with a stab of jealousy, when he was surrounded by such beauty. She herself was not average by any stretch. She’d had plenty of guys compliment her appearance, random people suggest she model, and her friends loved taking her by the arm around the nightclubs, like she was a hot guy magnet. But this was another level of beauty – supernaturally so; literally otherworldly beauty.

By pure irony, she’d neglected to realise that she no longer looked quite like herself now, anyway. Her appearance had shifted when she’d grown. She still resembled herself but also now looked like a real life version of her game token. She noticed it when it happened. But she kept forgetting. And even by Elfin standards, the ‘Enchantress’ model was mesmerizingly beautiful, exactly as the horny, basement-dwelling game designers (who, let’s be fair, had never glimpsed a real, flawed woman, in their entire lives) had intended. And she was not to know, but it contributed greatly to the way Lorandir behaved towards her. The elves were a very closed, clannish, genetically self-reinforcing group, and to see an Elf outsider more beautiful than anyone in Falior was a slap to the face. Every time she called him ‘cute’ it incensed him further, as he mistook it for her patronizing him for an inferior appearance. But since he is only an NPC, there isn’t a lot to be gained by delving further into his psychology.

The only hint of the way she was viewed by the other elves was by noticing the little pointed elf faces peering at her from out of oddly shaped windows. Their expressions were fascinated, but also dark and untrusting. She wished Lorandir would defend her, tell them she meant them no harm. But, she knew, in reality, he would be the first to tell them to stay back. No matter how carefully she moved, each of her footsteps shuddered the earth. At least the occupants of those little floating huts would be immune to that, she thought.

Now she sat on the ground and stared around the great garden she found herself in, a view of an emerald field enclosed by cliffs, and a glistening waterfall. Little elves sat around a long table under a huge, ornate breezeway crawling with ivy, between towering buildings.

There were two elves on either side of her; guards. They didn’t use blunt weapons or chains to keep her apprehended, but apparently were highly able magic users, and had warned her that if she tried to escape, or hurt anyone, they would be forced to contain her with spells, and not kind ones, either.

Now all the little elves were participating in a fierce debate, but from her point of view, it was a highly amusing spectacle, and she tried hard to suppress giggles. It was all so adorable. She was overwhelmed by it all.

"I believed the wisest course was to apprehend her further movement, to, uh, prevent accidental destruction," Lorandir was saying, shrinking under the steel gaze of his father and mother, the king Vulmar and queen Lusatra of Falior. They were both impassive, white haired elves sitting in the centre of the proceeding.

"And what, keep her detained here?” intoned the queen. “Why, she need only pirouette and she'll knock down a tower."

"With all due respect, your majesty, I have faith in Prince's judgment," said Triandal, apparently an adviser to the king. "How much damage can she possibly make? Look at her. She's a mere Gelfling, why, I doubt she's any more than double digits in age."

"Her immaturity only makes her more dangerous!" said Lusatra. “You said she knocked down some trees chasing you!”

"A mere child's game," scoffed Lorandir.

"You say she was ‘chasing’ you. Did you genuinely apprehend real danger about her?"

"No!" the prince snapped. "Are you insinuating that I fear her? Preposterous! I am embarrassed being in her company!"

"Then why bring your embarrassment upon the entire kingdom?" Vulmar said emphatically.

"She's as naive as a lamb," said Lorandir. "She'll do anything you say."

"Hey!" Madison frowned at him. "Only if you ask nicely!” then she added, hopefully, “Why don’t you just shrink me back to normal size.”

All the elves went silent and stared at her.

“It’s a rational suggestion,” Triandal finally said.

“Let us propose that we shrink her down to a much reduced stature,” said an old-looking elf to one side, another advisor, called Athlaeril. “What we are to she at present, she shall be to us, thereafter. Then we would be able to detain her merely with the lightest manual force. The application of magic would be unnecessary.”

“That’s the wisest thing I’ve heard all day,” the Prince sneered. “I have a fitting pouch for her containment.”

“No!” Madison burst out, regretting she had said anything. Her current size wasn’t very convenient, but being shrunken to doll size – by the elves’ measurement – would so much worse. Then Lorandir would no longer be handsome, he would be terrifying.

“It’s unbecoming for us to diminish our own kind in this way,” king Vulmar frowned, “whether outsider or native, Elf or Gelf; to jealously reduce the size of one who to whom it has been naturally endowed would be a crime against decency. For that reason alone I would normally refuse. But when she is so young and immodest already, it would not dint her decency, so little she possesses. And it would spare ours, for her to be further associated with us. We cannot be made responsible for any future destruction by her hand against other kinds. Therefore, I believe an exception can be made, to preserve the dignity of all.”

“No!” Madison shrieked again, but now the guard elves had erected a transparent wavery barrier around her to prevent her from escaping while they performed the transfiguration.

Athlaeril performed some kind of spell, she guessed – an incantation of elven words, anyway, embellished with some hand gesture. Or that’s what she thought he did, because nothing happened.

“Why does your power fail you?” said Vulmar.

“I know not…” Athlaeril said, “…it’s being blocked.”

“There is nothing here blocking you – if anyone provides resistance, let his voice be heard, or we will be forced to identify and punish the culprit.”

“It’s not being blocked by any of you,” Triandal suggested, “the source is the Gelfess herself.”

“How has she the power to defy you?” queen Lusatra exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Madison chimed in. “I’m not doing anything.” She was only concentrating really hard on how much she didn’t want to be shrunk.

“The previous Gelf who trespassed here had no such power,” Lusatra went on. “Explain this to me!” She turned and looked up at Madison angrily.

Madison just stared back, bemused.

“There was another Gelf? – where?”

One of the elves lifted a tiny, struggling male elf up into the air by the back of his collar. Madison cringed.

“Hey, are you a gamer?” the tiny figure squeaked up at her. Factoring in both their size changes, he was about the size of her pinky nail compared to her. She could barely hear him.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I don’t recognize you. New group?”

“Uh…maybe. I don’t know. We haven’t been playing that long.”

“Yeah. You must be new. I’ve been playing, like forever.”

That was unnerving for her to hear. She was about to ask him if he knew which way to go to beat the game, but then the tiny figure was quickly stuffed away inside a pouch. Madison felt regret that she couldn’t help him. But the reality was he just too small. If she tried to take the bag she’d sooner hurt him than help him.

“Our magic fails because of your efforts,” Triandal demanded. “Explain yourself!”

“I don’t know magic, I swear,” Madison quavered. But then something clicked; she remembered when she had picked her character, it was called something like, ‘Gelfin Enchantress’ or something. She chose it because it sounded like it could use magic. Maybe the ‘previous Gelf’ was a non-magic player. But she was. Maybe if she thought really hard, she could do magic.

“She’s got some kind of reserve will at work,” said Athlaeril.

“It’s not possible,” said the king. “She is so young; she cannot have will to rival yours.”

Meanwhile, Madison was staring into the distance, watching the glistening waterfall, thinking hard. The waterfall was transparent, and so smooth and elusive; you couldn’t contain it or catch it in your bare hands. If only she could be like the waterfall. She concentrated.

Lorandir had a sudden sense that a cloud passing over the sun had cleared. He looked out from under the eaves and saw something unbelievable:

The Gelfess had vanished into thin air.

Tossing his head back and forth around searching for her, he then screamed:

“Ai! Ai! She’s gone!”

The elves all went quiet. Everyone stared at the huge patch of emerald grass where she’d just been sitting, now bare. It wasn’t possible. They had been outsmarted by what was – by their reckoning – just a baby elf, giant or not.

There was the sound of rushing air, and then something slammed down on top of the breezeway, making it groan under some unseen load. Just as quickly, the strain released, and then a loud thud sounded down on the other side. The proficient magic user he was, Lorandir quickly worked out what had happened. The Gelf must have vaulted over them. She had managed to turn herself invisible. And now, as they heard more thuds, getting further and further away, they realised she was escaping.

Lorandir’s eyebrows met in rage. How utterly careless! If the breezeway had collapsed under her weight, she could’ve taken out his entire family in one instant!

“Get her!” he shrieked at the elf guards, waving his fists like a petulant toddler. “If you allow her to escape, I will have you all executed!”