Calludral fell to one knee, wiping a thick coating of sweat from his brow. His robes stuck to his body like a wet sheet. Part of him wanted to strip them off, thinking it would be easier to climb yet another strange brown mountain. The ground beneath was rough and uneven, making every step was treacherous. He pulled down his makeshift mask, torn from part of his attire. The rank tangy smell soured his nostrils. Taking a swig from his waterskin, he shielded his eyes. 

Beams of light pierced through gaps between dark clouds above, illuminating what appeared to be an unending mountain range that rolled off into the distance. Beyond that was the grandest yet darkest peak he ever laid eyes on. Some many leagues away, a monolithic pillar dominated the area. Formed of the same brown as the peaks he scaled, the pillar stretched high, breaching through the thick cloud layer. It was the only thing of note compared to the rolling mountains. Calludral pulled up his bandana around his nose and set off towards it as instructed. 

Vylia sipped tea and lounged in her chair, an upholstered, twill fabric seat with accented button tufting. The leather creaked as Vylia nestled herself deep. She waved her hand and a scroll shot off from the upper section of her study. It swirled and landed into her open palm. Vylia kept movements as minimal as possible, resisting the urge to cross her legs. With a yawn, she read from the parchment.

Flickering lights formed in front of her. Shards of glass slithered forth, building up a fractured mirror. She rolled her eyes, and waved the shattered glass forward. It’s surfaced rippled. An image of a pallid beauty appeared.

“Resting so early in the day dearest Vylia?” her voice was smooth, seductive and overwhelmingly soft to the ear. 

“Of course Sylveth," she seethed, "the ravages of tutelage do so take their toll.” 

Sylveth tittered, “it must be so vexing to have but one student to care for.”

Vylia placed the scroll down on the side table, tutting aloud, “is there a point to this invasion of my privacy, or must I disintegrate this glass messenger of yours again?”

“Come now sizemancer, can we elves not confide? I wish to merely discuss certain matters with you,” Slyveth’s purple eyes darkened, “preferably in person.”

Vylia’s eyebrow shot up in curiosity. She nodded. The mirror flickered out of existence. Fist-sized balls of fire swirled high in the air. More and more spawned then shot together, slamming and moulding until they formed the outline of a tall athletic woman. Like a snake shedding its skin, the fire fell away and died, revealing Sylveth. She placed one hand on her hip, using the other to flick her shoulder-length mane of white and silvery hair. Then, she offered a long sweeping bow, more mocking than courteous. 

“Thank you for agreeing to this rather impromptu meeting,” Sylveth raised her head, sneering in poorly veiled contempt.

“What was so urgent that you would teleport yourself here,” Vylia snapped.

“Matters of The Convocation, ones that I felt were more pertinent to discuss in person rather than through a glass messenger.”

The Convocation, the regulators of magical practitioners. An overseeing body human kingdoms that was created in order to keep arcane abilities in check. Its many arms keep account of mages, ensuring the proper training of those with who display talent, but maintaining order. Whilst royalty may keep the most powerful of wizards or sorcerers in their council, so to do they keep one or more of the Convocations templar brethren by their side. For when there is dissent amongst those who bend reality to whim, the templar’s crushing fist is swift to impose order. 

Vylia tutted, “of what importance is that council to me?”

Slyveth was muted until she rose a hand and asked, “may I?” 

Vlyia nodded. Slyveth conjured a chair and then seated herself. Her sneer disappeared.

“The Convocation has issued summonings. All humans are being called to serve.”

Vylia stared, examining Slyveth with utmost scrutiny. Either she was serious or she had perfected an ability to hide her snideness. Both possibilities troubled her.

“Have they come from your students then?” she asked Slyveth.

Slyveth’s jaw clenched. A vein bulged on her forehead. The statuesque features cracked from her rage, “yes. I had just begun to induct another and he too was taken. They are all being whisked away as we speak.”

“Again, I must reiterate, of what importance is this to me?”

“I wish to give you forewarning. They will come from your student, as they did mine.”

“They can try,” Vylia took a pensive sip from her tea. 

“You are going to rebel against the Convocation?” Slyveth scoffed in shock at the stupidity.

“I am not beholden to the wishes of some human conclave, nor should any elven magi be,” Vylia's lips curled, “truly then, it is most shocking that I am to find Slyveth surrender such lesser practitioners over to a bunch of witless-” 

Vylia blinked. In that flicker of darkness, the tip of a chrome blade was right before her, ready to pierce her eye. Syleth’s purple dress waved like she was caught in a storm. Tendrils of teal energy flowed from her pale body. 

“Mock me all you wish sizemancer,” Slyveth hissed through gritted teeth, “but dare to cast your baseless aspersions on my pupils at your own peril.”   

Vylia rolled her eyes and then rose her hands in surrender, "a mere jest Slyveth, nothing more."

The chrome blade dispersed, as did the energy surrounding Sylveth. Both elves paused. The silence between them allowed them to regain their composure. Sylveth returned to her seat, cleared her throat and restarted the conversation. 

“It is why I wish for your student to join with mine.”

“Oh?”

“Knowing the…” Sylveth’s grimaced for a moment, “gruelling tasks typical of your degenerate school, the one student you have forged will prove himself in the times ahead.”

“Degenerate? Size alteration is nought but a branch of magic.”

Slyveth shot her a icy glare, “is that why you only shrink humans and beasts indiscriminately but grow only yourself?”

Vylia blushed and turned her head. 

“Enough of this prattling. Allow me to test your pupil.”

A hint of concern flashed on Vylia’s face for a moment, “you wish to examine him?”

Sylveth smiled and leant back in her chair, “do not fret Vylia, I shan’t apply myself fully. I do not intend to harm a human that has survived so long beneath such a wizened sizemancer. I wish to asses his progress, nothing more."

Vylia frowned, eyeing up Sylveth, “you wish to meet him now? He is occupied with some rather, shall we say, minute matters.”

Slyveth paused to examine Vylia's expression, weary of what she might be concocting, “I do wish it.”

“Very well Slyveth, I shall acquiesce,” a whisper of a grin came to Vylia’s face as energy coalesced around her hands, “allow me to take you to him.”

Slyveth scowled, “what manner of trick-”

Calludral winded his way through one of the many valleys. He kept a floating light beside him as he wandered through, illuminating the darkness. Down this far, the bit of light that snuck through did not reach this far. The walls around him provided him shelter from the continuous booming thunder above. The ground beneath quaked, making him stumble along the bumps on the path. All the ground was uneven. This far below, the humidity seemed even worse. He noted there were no streams, no rocks or stones, no grassland. Whatever place this was, it was not natural. Nothing about this place could sustain life. He shook his head, focusing instead on traversing this plane. He needed to muster as much strength to cross the many mountains and valleys still ahead that barred his path to the pillar.    

Coming up to a dead end, he muttered his incantations. Imbued with the ability to climb like a spider, he clamoured his way up. After some time, he scaled until the top levelled out. Again, from this vantage, he could survey the emptiness and examine the oddity. As he recuperated, a flash of light forced him to shield his eyes. He heard a honied voice speak.

“-ery are you-” it then abruptly stopped, followed by a series of harsh gagging. 

When Calludral looked, he saw Sylveth. The glorious elf slackened. She had her hands on her knees, coughing and covering her sharp pointed nose. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head before her. 

“Master Slyveth!” he cried aloud.  

A series of protective wards appeared over Slyveth’s robes. She finally stood upright, meeting with a prostrating human atop a brown mountain. The air was stagnant, the smell as putrid as a bog. Not even the depths of the jungles were as humid as this place. Even sunlight was a luxury, for little light pierced the dark brown canopy way above. She analysed the land. A vein bulged on her forehead as her jaw clenched. The bitch shrunk her. She cast her mind outward to understand to what extent she had shrunk her. They were on her heel. Those grand-ranging mountains were mere bumps in the leather that was indecipherable at a normal height. That monolithic pillar was nothing more than a toe strap. Her mind snapped back. They were on her heel between Vylia's toes. A quake cascaded. Those two horizon stretching peaks around them shifted, throwing both to their feet. Thunder boomed once more as the land settled.

“I will butcher that sizemancer once this is done,” Slyveth growled. 

“M-Master?” 

Slyveth’s piercing gaze fell on Calludral, “how you have withstood this proves one thing at least, but now I require more.” 

Calludral rose his head, his befuddled look met with Sylveth’s dark grimace. Turquoise snakes danced around Sylveth’s form. She cast a hand to her side. Liquid metal flowed. A thin yet long falchion formed from shimmering chrome materialised in her hand. Her robes burnt away, replaced instead by ostentatious armour. The elf was covered in purple plate mail upon which were decorative ivory swirls trimmed with hold. Silver hair radiated hot white, purple eyes aglow, Slyveth primed herself and pointed her blade at him. Proud angelic wings sprouted and spread from her back.

“Defend yourself, student of Vylia!” she roared. 

Calludral went to speak. Slyvth, fast as a bolt of lightning, raced towards him. He put his hand out. A circle of blue energy formed. It bore the brunt of the blade as the elf slammed into Calludral. Her movements were precise, clean and scarcely perceptible. She moved with speed that the human eye struggled to keep up. No sooner had she dashed him did she retract her blade then unleashed a series of swipes. An onslaught of blows came from every direction. He grit his teeth, holding on as best he could, muttering under his breath. He needed time. Time to think, time that the elven master would not give. It had to be perfect. The shield spell Calludral cast cracked, then shattered.

He pounced back, stumbled, tried to regain his balance, but Slvyeth was already upon him. Lost in the fury of the moment, she thrust her blade into his body, throwing all her weight and might into a single blow. There was no wet crunch, no snapping of bones and tearing of muscle. She ploughed through Calludral with no resistance whatsoever. Lifting up high, she hung in the air fifteen feet off the ground, wings spread aloft like a triumphant valkyrie. Calludral was nowhere to be seen. She tittered. 

Saved by his master, she thought as she levitated back down, perhaps she does hold some emotion for humanity.

A torrent of water shot at her from her left. Using her wing to shield herself, she cursed and peered beyond the wild spray. A lightning whip cracked to life. Calludral formed, the veil of invisibility dropping from him. Like a frenzied lioness, Slyveth hurled herself towards him once more, counting on her speed to reach his before the lighting could strike the water. The whip made contact. Violent energy crackled. Electricity danced and arced across the elf. Slyveth shrieked, losing control as she flew. Calludral lept to the side as the elf hurtled past. She screamed in agony, crashing and then rolling on the uneven ground.    

Calludral fought to catch his breath. Wisps of dark smoke rose from the elf. The thunder cracked, heralding another earthquake. He stood his ground, keeping his eyes fixed on Slyveth. When he regained his balance, he heard the clinking of metal. Calludral felt his stomach plunge. Slyveth had risen to her feet, patted down her armour. She flicked her hair and then turned towards Calludral, now ready to face him. Not even a mark on her face. No burns, nothing. The malevolent glare dissipated from the elf’s face, replaced now with a hearty grin.

“I am satisfied.” Slyveth stated, “though I quibble with your teacher’s sordid approach, it does appear that her methods can be somewhat effective.” 

Calludral kept up his guard, even as she approached him. She cast her hand out to her side. The chrome blade that was flung from her side during her crash returned, whizzing through the air until she caught it. He gulped. He used her metal armour to his advantage as best he could. Calludral cursed that he was not yet versed enough to heat metal spontaneously. Casting a string of spells back to back like this drained him. He shimmied back more, attempting to hide his exhaustion.

Slyveth stood unwavering. Twirling her fingers, lingering electricity zipped between her digits, taunting Calludral. His ingenuity meant little to one who saw far beyond his skill. By the time Calludral calculated other possible tactics, Slyveth was already towering over him. With a snap of her fingers, her armour, wings and sword faded away. Now, she was back in her dress.

“You should visit my academy when you tire of Vylia. I would be honoured to have someone of your talent within my halls.”

Deep ominous rumbling bellowed and the uproar it heralded was cataclysmic. Calludral was thrown to the floor. Slyveth remained firm, unable to contain her smirk.

“Now then, let us turn to more important matters,” Slyveth cleared her throat and shook a fist at the sky, “I know you are watching Vylia! Cease this at once!”

Rhythmic booms echoed. Wisps spun around both Calludral and Slyveth. When their bodies were enveloped by them, both were teleported away. In an instant, both stood before Vylia, who took off her brown heels, chucking them away. She planted her feet on the footstool, wiggling her toes and tittering at Sylveth.  

“My my Slyveth,” Vylia’s grin stretched from ear to ear, “what is that look for? Did you not find any joy in appraising my student?”

Slyveth shot her a stare of pure malevolence, “play those tricks upon your student,” she hissed, “but shrink me at your own peril sizemancer.”

Vylia gasped in feign shock, “oh how my heart quails before Slyveth, master of martial perfection!”

Slyveth clenched her fist. Energy radiated, illuminating her form in a blood-red glow. Calludral stepped back; Vylia sipped her tea. As quick as the uproar came, it dissipated. Slyveth inhaled then exhaled all her fury, maintaining her composure. Instead, she offered Vylia a quick bow of the head.

“Thank you dearest Vylia for your company,” she sneered. Slyveth turned to Calludral and addressed him with a quick nod, “conquer with courage young human.”

Flame surrounded Slvyeth as she teleported away. Vylia sighed, deflating into chair as she drummed the armrest. 

Calludral took a pensive step towards her, “Master?” 

So lost in thought, Vylia failed to respond. She stared off into the distance. Then she sighed and lumbered out of her chair. Calludral knelt. 

“You didn’t reach my to- I mean the tower did you? Was that not your test today?” Vylia rubbed her chin, acting as though she were pondering over punishments. Calludral trembled, wondering if he had indeed upset his master.

“Yet," she sighed, "you have done me quite the service. Though your spellcasting is still somewhat clumsy, I was most impressed.”

Calludral's quivering ceased. His jaw dropped. A compliment? he thought.

"You were composed, despite the nature of your foe. You strung together lesser conjurations, relying more on ingenuity rather than sheer force. All this whilst trekking across lands most alien."

“Because of your lessons, Master,” he bowed his head.

“Quite so, yet many pupils oft fail to heed the lessons of their betters. On this day, any less and you would have shamed me in front of a peer.” Vylia's rosey voice darkened, "and I do not like being shamed."

Her cold visage cracked. She could not help but smile at her student, “therefore, I deem that you have passed this, my final test. No longer are you a foreign novice,” she stood in front of Calludral and beckoned him stand. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder, “I can no longer deny nor question your fortitude. Few, if any of your race are worthy of induction into the greater mysteries, yet you have proved to me here and now, you are deserving of further tutelage.”

For a moment, he saw his master’s eyes twinkle, "thus do you stand as an apprentice." An errant tear all too swiftly snuffed a blink. There was a warmth to her voice, “my apprentice.”

His knees weakened. It was hard to stand. Acceptance, after so long. He choked up, unable to utter a thank you. Vylia’s smile was all he needed to see. So many tests, so much shrinking. He could at last walk among the vast libraries of an elf’s tower. His mind raced with possibilities. Thousands of years of elven studying into magic, so many records and tomes and parchments no other human would have laid eyes on. 

“However,” her voice became dryer, her hand slipping from his shoulder, “your studies must wait. News of great import has arrived my student. You will be under secondment of the Convocation.”

His heart froze. “I… am to leave you?”

Vylia sat back on her chair, crossed her legs, “for a period, yes.”

Calludral’s face dropped. He became hollow at the thought. He sacrificed too much, struggled through all her tests. To be ripped away now from his master at the time of his greatest triumph. “Can I refuse them? Can you? I… I cannot be drawn away, not now! There is still the Aeonic Cypher to unlock, the-” 

Vylia rose a hand to silence him. She let silence reign for a while to let the weight of the situation settle onto Calludral. She broke it with a heavy sigh, “sadly, I must acquiesce. They suggested you as one worthy of an elf's time, and it appears they have some merit in finding talent, thus I must abide if they call you to serve. Consider then the next stage in your ascension to mastery.”

His eyes darted about. She was masquerading it. He knew this was nothing more than just another test. He wanted to scream, furious that there were yet more barriers. He closed his eyes, breathed in and out. The rage subsided and he asked, “how will I know it is complete-”

He was interrupted by the abrupt lack of gravity. Calludral floated towards Vylia as the world and his master around became larger. She pursed her glossy lips and his inch-tall body was smushed into them. Vylia pressed him in softly, rubbing her tiny student such that he would be smothered from all angles. She cooed as he wiggled and writhed, stuck within her telekinetic grasp. Retracting him away, her tongue came to slather him. Vylia could sense his rising excitement. It was overpowering, so much so that she felt a tingle racing through her, rising more and more as her student embraced her barrage of kisses. The more stress she placed upon him, the more his mana grew in strength. Nanoscopic shrinking then a short duel with an elf. All those spurts of his now would be all the richer.

The mere thought he was to leave sparked a frenzy within her. She could be without him for days, maybe weeks. He would age like a fine wine, but she had already tasted him and drunk deep. He was still weak from yesterday but the trials of today have been a boon. The first little drop of cum seeped through his robes. The rush swept through her in an instant. In a maddened state, Vylia fumbled in slipping off her panties, near enough to tear them away just to work her womanhood. Mana seeped from her student, each morsel whipping up an evergrowing and furious lust within her. She hastened, her fingers plunging faster and harder, her lewd cries growing louder with her thrust. One hand by her crotch, the other cupping a breast. Heat rose from within, her pace doubling when she heard her student's meek moans.

Calludral was already lost once more. Pressed against his master's lips, his manhood hardened. The roaring bass of Vylia's moans rang in his ears. Vibrations blended with the warmth of her lips. All he could understand of the world now was red. Recourse came when he drifted away from her face. Her panting raged like a hurricane. When Calludral looked down beyond his cum-stained robes, Vylia's dress was gone, her voluptuous body glistening beneath candlelight. A rumbling came. Her gargantuan hand snatched him. His back against her palm, he was whisked away to her nipple. Calludral squirmed and licked the great mound, much to his master's delight. The rumbles from before paled in comparison to the dirge Vylia was unleashing now. When it peaked into a skull-splitting crescendo, he was fully pressed into her nipple. Vylia's massaging of her breast now entombed him and then warm milk erupted like a geyser, drenching him.

Calludral's head spun, his vision swirling. When he could see normally once more, he found himself resting atop Vylia's breast. Milk dribbled down. He looked up. Vylia ran a hand through her glorious hair, licking cum-drenched fingers clean. He wobbled and then collapsed onto her boob, too exhausted to do anymore, fully expecting to be teleported to his room like so many times before. Instead, he was left there to rest. He attuned himself to the rhythmic rise and fall. Up and down, up and down. Vylia's soft breathing wafted over. The beat of her heart a faint tremor. Her finger loomed above. The giant stroked him.

Vylia simmered down. She caressed her tiny student, that little faint dot on her chest. Free from the vices of carnal desires, clarity came over her instead. For all her wisdom and knowledge, it took word of his temporary departure to understand the depths of her infatuation with Calludral. He was everything and more. A font of mana, a student, a lover. So many years of disdain for the petulant race fading away. No longer could she use her contempt as a shield or as a means to distance herself. She sighed, both with relief and mourning. The heartbreak was inevitable now. Destiny was cruel to set this into motion, but it was beyond her petty control. If fate decreed this bond, so too did it foretell tragedy.

As Calludral drifted to sleep, his world fell into darkness. He promised to return to her. No matter what would come.