Several hours had past, and nightfall fell quickly over the ravine Mordrell resided in. Thayna lumbered dejectedly towards a small inn off the beaten track and paid for a full night's stay without much thought, too tired to even remember the name of the place she would be staying in.

Thayna was in a terrible mood. The first thing she did upon entering the room was fall face first into the bed, flinging John off her shoulder and just lying still for several minutes, burying whatever woes she had into the pillow.

"Er," John said unsurely, "It's probably not as bad as you think."

"Mmrfgrfmrf" Thayna said through her pillow. John sighed. His landing was rough; he could still feel a dull ache in his shoulder where he landed, but he knew Thayna hurt much more inside. It's not every day a person gets their ideal world shattered so thoroughly at once.

"Look," John said heftily, climbing his way towards Thayna's face, "At least put your things down and relax a bit. Moping about it now won't help things, but you're the representative of Farum. If there's a one thing you can do, it's to voice your opinion to Mordrell's leaders, right? That's what you're here to do, aren't you?"

John bumped the bit of cheek Thayna didn't bury into her pillow with his fist. "So just bear with it for now," John continued with his encouragement, "And keep your feelings inside. You'll get your chance to express them soon enough."

John felt the pillow move as Thayna shifted, revealing her eye which stared weakly at John. "Really?" Thayna said with a muffled, quivering voice.

I can't believe I'm counseling a mage, John thought to himself, Well, first time for everything.

"Yeah," John said with his best salesman smile, "A merchant always puts on a strong front in front of his customers. I guess that applies to Farum-ambassador-mage-diplomats, too."

Thayna turned her face back into the pillow, then after taking a deep breath, lifted herself up. She slowly undid the straps of her bags, letting them fall unceremoniously onto the side of the bed. She took off her heavy grey covers and kicked off her sandals. Thayna sat on her bed with legs folded back, stripped down to only a light white undergown with red hems, and stared intensely at John.

"Alright!" Thayna declared as she slammed her fist into her palm, suddenly springing back to her old self, "If I'm going to give that Marietta a piece of my mind, we're going to need preparations!"

"Er..." John nervously chimed in. He had a bad feeling about this, "Preparations?"

"Of course!" Thayna exclaimed, crossing her arms haughtily at John, "You don't expect me to waltz in unprepared, do you? I'm going to need magic."

John gulped. He knew where this was going.

"And so," Thayna continued, "I'm going to need your help again, mister magic vessel."

There wasn't time to argue. Thayna had already reached out and grabbed John by the back of his collar, lifting him off the pillow and into the air. He flailed about even though he knew it was an act of futility, but swung about wildly anyway in protest as Thayna brought him closer to the mage mark on her foot, hot and reddened from the long journey.

John shut his eyes, all but expecting to be stepped on again, but found himself landing on something warm and inviting. He chanced a glance at where he landed, and saw the large expanse of Thayna's sole spread beneath him. She had left him on top of her foot like the last time, without the crushing pressure ever looming over him. The smell was certainly palpable after several days of travel, but John was thankful he didn't have to return to that claustrophobic space under her sole.

"Just take your time and tell me when you're...uh...ready," Thayna said as she looked back, a luminescent blush on her cheeks, "We'll begin when you've...um..."

John was confused at first, but realization struck him when he realized what she implied. "Wait!" John shouted frantically. His manhood and dignity was at stake here, "You think I can jerk off to your feet?!"

"W-well!" Thayna cried out, flustered, "You did it the last time! I don't know what dark, obscene fetishes you had that aroused you the last time, but it wasn't unthinkable that you'd have a fascination for my feet at the time!"

“I think you're gravely misunderstanding something, here!” John cried out, “That one time was an accident! An accident!”

“Then do something about it!” Thayna shouted back, “If I don't get enough magic for later, I'm in trouble! J-just do your dirty business and be done with it!”

Thayna pushed John into her sole, choking him on her foot flesh. The thick stench of sweat and skin filled John's face, making him gag as Thayna forced him deeper into her foot. He struggled to free himself from the oppressive force and scent, but Thayna's hand held him down persuasively; he was unable to resist her gargantuan strength.

“J-just cop a feel and a whiff,” Thayna said, her face only growing redder as John's tiny frame brushed further into her sole, sending an electrifying ticklish sensation up her spine. She curled her toes in response, wrapping them around John's head, squeezing him tightly within her foot's grip. She let out a yelp as the feeling grew too much for her to bear; how did letting a human on top of her foot feel so different? Thayna never felt the same when she stepped directly onto them to draw magic energy. What made it so drastically distinct from what she usually did?

Meanwhile, John was having second thoughts. This was just as bad as being trampled on like before. Thayna held him down from behind, and her pudgy little toes were plastered all over his head and face. Their grip on him only swelled as she pushed him down harder, forcing John to flop about helplessly as the pressure built up. He could only feel pain at this point as his head began to cave in around him, and his breath ran dry against Thayna's skin.

All in an instant, John felt a familiar rush as Thayna began drawing magic from him. It was nothing like the inferno which engulfed him when she last drew from him; rather, it was the same tiny sigh that leaked out of him from before. The small sliver of energy left his body, and John felt Thayna's toes let go of him.

“Hey!” Thayna demanded, “What was that! That was a pathetic amount of magic you gave me!”

Now out of Thayna's deathgrip, John recovered his breath, then turned angrily back at his giant captor. “Like I already said,” John balked, “I'm NOT attracted to your feet! Whatever you do, I am NOT getting aroused by them!”

Thayna was taken aback by John's shouting. So all she had to endure just now was for nothing? “T-then...” Thayna stuttered, her face still flush with embarrassment, “Then what do I do?”

“Just-” John began, but the pain of being squeezed so tightly from before was finally catching up to him. He reeled from the hurt, falling back into Thayna's sole, writhing as he clutched his head.

“John!” Thayna exclaimed. She instinctively reached out to grab him, but John brushed her hand away with a slap.

“Look,” John said, panting as he lay down on Thayna's foot, “Just do it the normal way. We've both got time to kill, and you'll get your magic while we wait. I'm not going to even pretend I could get aroused by your feet, so just make due with what you could get.”

Thayna had a mix of emotions on her face; anger, irritation, worry, guilt, it all played out as her eyes and lips began twitching up and down, rapidly phasing through all the things she was feeling right now. It was difficult to pin down what she should do now, with her head in a jumble, but eventually, Thayna took a deep breath in and calmed herself. She didn't need to feel anything to do what's right.

“Alright,” Thayna said. She picked the ginger figure of John up from her sole, holding him gently in her hand as she shifted the rest of her body down the bed, lying down on her belly so that her feet faced the ceiling, and bent down to place John back onto her mage mark.

“There,” Thayna said cooly, “Just lie down on the mark and get comfortable, I'm sure we'll both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

The two companions didn't bid each other goodnight or even say anything after that, but Thayna just stayed still in bed, drawing sliver after sliver of magical energy from John for as long as she could stay awake. As the night grew darker, Thayna's eyelids grew heavy, and she felt that there was just enough magic within herself to cast maybe three or four spells tomorrow. She turned back briefly and saw an already sleeping John with arms spread eagle on her sole, a silent but visible snore now rising up and down his chest. Thayna didn't know why, but the stupid look of John's sleeping face as he lay splayed across her foot brought an amused smile to her face.

Thayna decided to draw magic from him one last time before retiring for the night as well. She focused her mind on her mage mark, and soon, she felt the familiar sensation of her mark activating, an invisible force like a hand reaching out to grab all it could from whatever was near the mage mark. This time, though, she felt a much greater rush as her mark grasped at something huge and luminescent, like sticking a poker into a giant ball of fire. The intensity of the fire was almost too much to bear, but Thayna had already seen this scene once before. Without hesitation, Thayna dug her mark into John's bottomless pool of magic, and felt a surge of the arcane energy flow into herself. Something had triggered her key while John slept, and the large sum of magic she collected easily amounted to three or four times that which she accumulated in the past few hours John has been on her foot.

Thayna turned around, curious as to what John did, but was surprised to see him still sleeping. He had turned himself over, face facing sideways so that his cheek rested on the ball of her foot, but both hands were grasping the round, cushiony ends of her toes. “Boobies,” she heard John mouth off in his sleep.

Thayna didn't even feel mad. She just laughed to herself quietly, rolling back to bed and with a small incantation of magic, turned the lights off in the room. As she steadily fell into a deep slumber, her thoughts raced back to the events of today; the killing of the runaway Numbered, the announcement of the Crushworks, and John's encouragement. The many thoughts which weighed her down began to lift as her consciousness began slipping; and Thayna felt the weariness of her journey fade as she fell into a deep slumber.

"Master John?" A voice called out. John rolled to his side, thinking at first that it was Thayna calling him. He wanted to sleep in after the tribulations she put him through yesterday, and gave a snort to show he didn't care. That was until he realized Thayna would never call him 'master'.

John turned around and saw that a human woman was crouched over him on the bed. John had never seen her in his life before, but she looked to be around twenty and extremely pretty, with her hazel hair falling over her fair, delicate face. Matching eyes of a striking brown stared down at the prone John, a mix of anxiety and nervousness on her face.

What caught John's eye, though, was the fact that the number '1180' had been branded just below the her right shoulder in big, black letters, and the fact that he saw it showed just how loose and revealing her white tunic was.

"Wah!" John yelled, bolting up suddenly. The woman fell back in surprise as well, falling on her backside, onto the bedsheets. John looked around, searching for Thayna. The bratty, naive mage of a mistress of his was nowhere to be seen. The bedsheets were still unmade, but they had already lost the warmth of Thayna's body. Besides the woman next to him, John saw nobody else in the room with him.

"Um," the woman beside John mumbled beside John, "Lady Thayna has already left for the city, and wishes for you to...um...stay put here."

John blinked. Thayna left without me? He thought. That girl... He had hoped to see more of Mordrell today, but there was no way he could go out without a mage escorting him. There wasn't much he could do on that front, but...

John turned to the woman beside him. He realized that he hasn't greeted the woman her at all since waking up. "Er, hi," John said awkwardly, "My name's John, but I guess you already knew that, huh. What's yours?"

The woman just sat there and blinked at John. After an excessively long moment of awkward silence, the woman simply said, "I am Numbered one one eight zero. My mistress disliked long names, however, so she shortened it to K eight zero."

"You...don't have a name?" John said in surprise. He recalled that the merchant from Mordrell he traded with withheld his name as well. Is this why?

"K eight zero..." John mumbled to himself. It was still a bit of a mouthful to pronounce but... Ah. John was struck with an epiphany. Maybe her mistress was pretty clever herself.

"K is the eleventh letter of the alphabet," John explained to himself, "And eight zero can be pronounced as eighty. K-eighty. Your name is Katie."

Katie's face became flushed with red, and she looked away nervously. "Humans of Mordrell aren't allowed to have a name..." she said quietly, her face the picture of demure, "...but that is what my mistress calls me."

Nice to make your acquaintance, too, John thought. He didn't say it aloud for fear of scaring Katie further; just suggesting that she had a name was enough to put her on edge.

"So, um," John continued, unsure of what to say, "What brings you here?"

Katie's face brightened upon hearing this. "Oh!" She said, as if only just just remembering why she had come here, "Lady Thayna had paid for your meal here, and my mistress has breakfast ready for you in the dining room."

"Um," John said with apprehension, "I'm not going to dine together with mages, am I?"

"We have separate rooms for our human guests," Katie explained, "And proper sized furnishings for all. If it pleases you, Master John, we will make arrangements."

Before John could answer, he felt the bed tremble as the giant footsteps of a mage approached the room. With a click, the door unlocked from the other side, and the figure of a gigantic, robed mage burst through. She was a wild looking giantess, unnaturally blue and white hair the length of ropes billowing about her head with large, silver glitters and sparkles sprinkled generously over her. She had icy blue eyes circled by ocean blue highlights and dark red mascara, with a matching smile showing a full set of shining white teeth large enough to grind boulders into dust. She wore long teal robes wrapped tightly around her curvaceous figure, with sleeves which fell almost all the way to the ground, swishing about wildly from the force of her pushing open the door. She wore leather spatterdashes laced all the way up to her knees, but was barefoot from the ankle down save for a large, fluffy brown ribbon tied around her left instep.

"Salutations!" The mage shouted loudly as she made powerful strides towards John and Katie, "I trust Katie’s awakened you by now, Sir John! Your Lady Thayna has left you in the care of I, Primrosa Ducoté!”

Primrosa flung her hands out wide, swinging her long sleeves in such a way that for a split second, it almost looked she had spread wings. John was flabbergasted as to how to respond to her large flashy movements, completely unused to such free expression from the normally lofty, regal motions a mage was expected to behave with. Luckily, Primrosa seemed to be taking the lead here.

“I am the gracious landlady of this fair establishment,” Primrosa continued, stand just off the edge of the bed, towering over John and Katie with her overbearing presence. She struck a dramatic pose forward, swinging one arm back and the other arm forward, placing an open palm before the two humans. “If you fancy a nibble of my kitchen’s finest vittles, then hop on and come break the morning fast with us!”

John was still reeling from Primrosa's dramatic entrance, but realized that all the words she had been shouting at him resembled an invitation to breakfast. Gingerly, he accepted, climbing cautiously onto the mage's giant hand. He noted that her nails were polished into a glittering purple color; fashion for the mages here were certainly different from human standards, but John felt he liked the added attention to detail. Every extra care taken by a mage to posy herself up was magnified to a human watching close by.

Katie clambered up after John, and when the two were nestled safely in Primrosa's palm, they felt the world suddenly jerk upwards as Primrosa brought them up to her face. A grin played out on her face as she caught a better look of John.

"Ah, Lady Thayna seems to be quite the jester," Primrosa said with a chuckle, "She had promised you to be a gruff, uncultured, ill-mannered troglodyte, but alas, what lay before is not any of those! A fine young man, you are, Sir John. My heart skipped a beat upon seeing such pictorial evidence of youth!"

John cursed Thayna's habitual down putting of him; she didn't have to say it to other people. John looked into Primrosa's icy blue eyes, and was glad she didn't seem to take Thayna's words to heart. He wasn't sure where her flattery was going, though; perhaps it was just her eccentricity speaking here.

Primrosa cupped the two humans in her hand and made her way out of the guest rooms. The way she walked had her swinging her hips and shoulders out full force, rocking John and Katie violently every time she kicked her legs out for another step. It was disorienting, but John saw that her robe only tightened further this way, giving shape to her massive breasts and lustrous figure. One could only surmise that she was flaunting herself flirtatiously. But with all mages being female, it was hard for John to imagine who she was flirting with.

"I've a table reserved in your good lady Thayna's name," Primrosa said to John, "But dining with the big folk don't sit well with most people of your stature, Sir John. Are you like most people…” Primrosa gave a sly grin at her dramatic pause, “Or are you feeling adventurous?"

Katie spoke up this time, "Actually, Master John here wanted-"

John shooed Katie instinctively, silencing her. He didn't really mean to, but perhaps he was still nervous around these strangers, especially when one was a mage. Whatever the reason, he'd have a hard time refuting Primrosa's offer graciously now.

"I, er," John said with some reserve, trying to think of something to lead into his earlier fumble, "I'd love to pick up that reservation. The mage's dining hall it is!"

John wanted to jump off of Primrosa's hand. Graciously refute her, not take her up on the offer. He really wasn't thinking straight today.

Primrosa, however, let loose her widest grin yet. "Excellentio, Sir John!" She replied in a thrilled voice, "I'll ensure that your reception is to be as extravagant as you are brave! Let us depart post-haste!"

With that, they sped to the dining room, where several other mages were already seated at round, stone tables, chatting with each other and otherwise minding their own business as they ate. The moment Primrosa stepped inside, however, heads turned and with a snap of her fingers, the curtains veiled any light from entering, and a shining drizzle of snow drifted gently down, illuminating the room with a cool glow.

Primrosa held the hand which held John and Katie up to her lips, and John felt a mighty gust of wind as she blew an icy breath toward them. Before he knew it, John was sitting on a thin sheet of ice which formed a slide all the way down to an unoccupied table below. He felt a gentle push as Primrosa prodded him from behind, and John slid down screaming to his table.

The magical bridge of ice crumbled as John rushed past it, and a mist of sparkles burst into his face as he landed at his destination.

"Hm hm," Primrosa hummed merrily, "Breakfast will be served shortly, so stay put and enjoy the ambiance. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to break the ice."

With a final, dramatic sweep of her sleeve, Primrosa turned around and walked out, snapping her fingers one more time to dispel the snowflakes and part the curtains, returning the dining room to its original state. A few mages applauded as Primrosa rounded a corner, but soon returned to their own meals.

John was left alone with Katie, both of whom were sitting down on the hard surface of the cold, stoney floor. There was another awkward silence between them, and the two continued sitting there until John decided somebody needed to start speaking.

"So, uh," John began, trying to find a topic of conversation, "You been here long, Katie?"

"I've been in my mistress's service since I was born," Katie said, then fell silent again.

"I...guess you aren't living with your folks then." That was an incredibly stupid and possibly insensitive remark, but John just wanted to break this uneasy silence however he could.

"My parents are dead," Katie said with some finality. Bad move, John, John thought to himself.

"I'm...sorry to hear that," John apologized, trying to cut his losses. The two just sat next to each other silently, avoiding any further eye contact for fear that the conversation would get any worse. John desperately tried to think of anything he could possibly do to not offend Katie any more, but to his surprise, it was she who broke the tension this time.

"If you wouldn't mind me asking, Master John," Katie said in a reverent tone, "But where mayhap do you hail from?"

Finally, something John could answer. "I'm from the country of Farum," John said proudly, "A little ways South of where Mordrell is."

"Farum..." Katie whispered to herself, then looked back up at John, "And what are the people like there?"

"Well," John said, scratching his head as he mulled over the question, "I suppose we're pretty well-off compared to the humans in Mordrell. The Farum family leave us to our own devices unless they need us, so we're free to do what we want. I guess that means we're also responsible for ourselves, so we survive by cloistering around the city together and try to make a living there."

Katie was nodding more and more vigorously with every word John said, her curiosity swelling. "And you have names? You can go anywhere you like? You don't need to fear the mages?"

The questions kept pouring in. John was having a hard time answering all of them, but he tried his best.

"Well..." John said, "We certainly don't have to deal with giant evil overlords as much as you do, but we're still very much beholden to the mages. Whenever they run low on magic, we have to send a tribute to the ivory terrace. It's usually lifelong servitude there, so most people fear that they'd be chosen next."

"Oh," Katie said, her earlier enthusiasm running dry when she heard this, "I guess Farum has similarities to Mordrell afterall."

"Yeah?" John said, egging her on to continue.

"Mordrell is a city of mages," Katie explained, "And humans here are merely treated as sources for their magic. They argue that we were not worth the effort of keeping beyond that, and cull our numbers to keep us from growing too large a population. They'd rather their limited resources go to supporting the mages instead of the humans. That is why, every year, they count how many of us Numbered there are, and pick a group of us to enter the Crushworks. We are killed for sport by the participating mages, and our deaths are a reminder to the rest of the Numbered that our existence is merely allowed, and can be taken from us at any time."

That was far from similar to Farum. John had already heard about the Crushworks from yesterday's announcement, but hearing it from a member of the victims seemed to have a more profound effect. He dreaded that human life could be trampled on so easily in Mordrell.

"Then why stay?" John asked, "There are plenty of countries which don't make it a point to kill their inhabitants on a regular basis; surely you could escape from Mordrell?"

"We Numbered are as good as prisoners here," Katie replied, "With any caught escaping returned or killed on site. Merchants who try to flee must contend with their family being selected automatically to the Crushworks. And those who do manage to escape damn their loved ones to the same fate. Even if they do return, they and their family’s lives are still forfeit."

"I..." John started, but didn't know what to say. How were you supposed to respond to somebody who just confessed their country was oppressed by genocidal, tyranical giantesses? John tried to comfort her regardless.

"I guess you don't have to worry about being automatically selected, at least, eh?" John said with a forced laugh.

"My father ran away three months ago," Katie said without skipping a beat.

More awkward silence.

Shit, John thought to himself, I was just trying to comfort her. That was the WORST thing you could say, John.

John resolved to shut up for the rest of the wait before he made another stupid comment, but was saved the trouble by the timely arrival of Primrosa, who returned with a tray full of dishes. The smell of freshly baked bread seeped into the dining room, and John chanced upon the enticing aroma of jam-filled pastries wafting from the top of the silver platters.

"Breakfast is served, my darlings!" Primrosa announced, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. She took the first dish and tossed it lightly into the air, where an arch made of ice caught it, sliding the dish to its owner's table. This was repeated several times until the room was filled with a roller coaster of slides and arches, which shattered into nothingness with the snap of Primrosa's fingers.

"And for our brave little guest," Primrosa said, taking powerful strides towards John and Katie, "I've prepared a meal especially for you!"

Primrosa took the last dish in her hand and placed it before John. It had a giant cover over it, but John smelled something distinctly different underneath than the pastries he sensed just now. "Are you ready?" Primrosa said with an incandescent smile.

John nodded, but gulped with a slight reluctance to find out what lie inside the massive silver dome.

With a quick heft, Primrosa lifted the cover off the plate and a shower of misty ice erupted from inside. John waved the smoky flakes away from his face and squinted his eyes to find his breakfast obscured within. He let out a gasp as the mist cleared.

In the middle stood a red velvet chair and an ornate table crowded with not one but seven plates, each with a smattering of artful dishes carefully prepared to form a diorama of various wild animals; a creamy statuette of a white elk with breadstick antlers standing beside a river of blue sugar icing; the thickest omelette John had ever seen molded into the shape of a mountain, where a small ram made of sliced radish stood atop; a baked loaf taking the form of a ferocious wolf with slices of mutton inserted into its back padded through a broccoli garden; little doves of rice crackers with wings spread lying atop a fluffy white cloud of cream pastry; a dragon-shaped muffin hunched over a bread wall breathing down beads of strawberry jam onto a tiny chocolate village below; a pair of pink paper hummingbirds held aloft by a long, spiralling candy stick rising up from the dish, and finally, a chocolate mousse horse with dark chocolate saddle and beady black sesame eyes. It reminded John greatly of Matilda.

"Magnificent, Sir John!" Primrosa exclaimed, "I had enchanted the meal with a simple divination spell to reflect your mind, but its beauty far exceeded even my own expectations!"

John blinked. Matilda he could understand, but what did the rest mean? A lone wolf might represent his loneliness as a traveling merchant, and the dragon might be the dread he felt at being surrounded by mages, but what do two pink hummingbirds mean?

"That is a symbol of fleeting love, Master John," said Katie, who came around behind him to seat him down. She must have caught him staring at the little dish.

"Love?" John balked incredulously, "I'm not in love!"

"Perhaps you're secretly infatuated with Lady-"

"NO," John said instantaneously. Anybody but that brat Thayna.

"Then..." Katie whispered with a blush, "Perhaps somebody more recent?"

The dishes on the table started turning into pink humming birds one by one. Images of the woman before him flashed through his head, and John tried desperately to shake the thought out of his mind. It wasn't that he loved Katie, but he just had a childish attraction to her looks. Yes, that had to be it. There was no way having just met and briefly talking with her so disastrously would result in love. Right?

"Hm, hm," Primrosa intoned amusedly, "I can see a good mood brewing here. I'll just leave you two lovebirds to ruffle your feathers together in private, now. Have a good time!"

Primrosa let out a rich, rancorous laugh as she turned and stamped away, flicking one last finger in John and Katie's direction, and the two felt a cold, magical force push them together shoulder to shoulder.

The two tiny pair looked at each other, then blushed as they quickly looked away from each other again. Feeling Katie's warmth against his skin made John embarrassed, but the real problem was his growing erection, which he tried desperately to stifle. Katie must have seen it, however, and leaned closer to John’s face. John tried to back away, but she had already came close enough for her breath to be felt on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," was all Katie whispered into John's ear. He froze at these words, as if a bucket of cold water had just been splashed over him. Before he could do anything else, Katie ran to the center of the table, where a hollow cylinder travelling down through the table's support ran through. She leapt inside and disappeared from John's sight.

John just stood there, gawking slack-jawed at the scene which had just transpired before him. He honestly has never confessed in his life before, but was this already his first rejection?

John eventually snapped out of his daze and slumped into his chair, the dishes on the table turning into little pudding puppies with sad eyes laying dejectedly down upon the plate. It was a hell of a way to start the morning, to say the least. John sighed as he finally decided to take a bite out of his meal; he felt very tired for somebody who had just woken up.

“My, such a gloomy look so early in the day,” a voice boomed above John. A shadow had cast over him, and John felt the air shift as the gigantic figure of a mage closed in on him. Her voice was unfamiliar, so John turned his head up to see who it was.

It was a young mage dressed in dark blue robes leaning over John, her large size betraying the relatively thin proportions she had. Unnatural strands of silvery hair hung down from her head, cut short into a bob which shone with a metallic sheen, wisps of which fell over eyes of a similar shade of silver, both of which now looked curiously at the tiny human before her.

“My name is Silestria of Thamond,” the mage said with a smile, “Won’t you join me for a while, little man?”