Mage Wall – The split between worlds (Breast/butt expansion story)

Abigail hadn't slept like this in days. The pillow beneath her head, wonderfully soft. The bed seemingly made out of clouds. A warm blanket covering her from the chest down that she absentmindedly snuggled into, a childish grin on her face. 

It was perfect. better than the last few days had been, at least. Where all she had done was chase shadows and grow slowly more exhausted.

It was too perfect actually. Wrong.

The last thing she could remember was fighting a giant centipede. A brawl that took her through a building or two and ended with her covered in acidic blood at a gate in front of a tiny underground sun. Not in here, safe and cozy in the nicest guest room she'd seen since she was twelve. 

Well, it was the only guest room she'd seen since then actually.

Still that didn't change the fact that this wasn't right. People didn't just teleport like that. Except when they did, like with her and Esbern. Who was likely suffering at the hands of some elf while she sat here in comparative luxury trying to figure out where exactly she was in all of Ardia. Or whatever it was that the elves called their side of the world.

That confusion clung to her like a cloud, as she rose up out of the bed she had been so kindly put in and stretched. As she did, hands balled into fists over her head, she suddenly remembered the one detail she had forgot.

The gate had been manned. It had two guards stationed atop it, and one of them had asked if she was an imposter.

Abigail couldn't recall her answer. She wasn't even sure she had answered the question at all. Whether or not she did, the guards - if they were any good at their job - probably would've taken her in for questioning. It's what she would have done in their place.

With that in mind, she felt safe in assuming that she was in a guard house, and that there were guards waiting for her to wake up on the other side of the door. Which automatically ruled out a polite exit. Instead she started scanning the room for another way out.

It didn't take her long to find one. There was a window on the left side of the room that led out into what looked like a street. Even better, the room had a dresser and a mirror as well. She could use the dresser to block the door, and the mirror could be broken into a makeshift knife. It would be loud work, but worth the extra precaution in her current situation.

Floor boards creaking beneath her, Abigail put her plan into action. First, she kicked the dresser over and pushed it in front of the door. As expected it was loud, and she winced at the sound of wood scraping against wood. But when she finally had it in position, she turned on her heels and broke the mirror with a well placed blow of her elbow.

The glass shattered into several shards, and as they fell she grabbed one out of the air. Her chosen piece was wide on one side and narrow on the other, more of a spear tip than a knife. Still, it would do.

With her preparations complete, Abigail broke the window with a punch and looked through it. As she did, the doorknob behind her rattled, signaling that the chase was on. Adrenaline surged through her veins in response and instinct took over. It was like settling back down onto an old, but familiar, horse. Natural.

Her hands fell into rhythm, checking everything she had on her and compiling it into a short list. Armor that didn't quite fit, the mask that went with it strapped to the back of her head, and the shard of glass. All of it in toe, she clambered up the wall and squeezed halfway through the window. That was as far as she got before her rear, several magnitudes larger than it had been when her journey began, halted her progress.

She was stuck, if only for a moment. A few kicks of her legs and a strong pull was all it took to break free and squirm the rest of the way through. Then she was outside in the street, the city around her burning with light. The false star in their sky an unceasing beacon.

It was awe-inspiring.

Like she was staring at one of the true suns in miniature, personally lighting up her day. She almost wanted to reach out and touch it, but seeing as that was impossible - and that she was on the run - she settled with a quick glance of appreciation. Then she blended in with the crowd, vanishing between the masses of elves walking, talking, and otherwise going about their day.

They were her shield as she slipped away from the vicinity of the guard house, and out into the wider city. Where she renewed her search for her mentor post haste. But as she passed through the city, mask fastened across her face, she found her attention drifting from her task.

Her eyes, almost as if pulled by some unseen force, were drawn to all the sights the city had to offer. Some of which were very familiar, and others that were downright alien to her.

Elves stood at stalls and peddled their wares. They sold gems and jewels, mysterious meats and fine fabrics, weapons and tools of all kinds. Beside them, sheathed by the crowd, others performed strange - almost ritualistic - dances for coin.

One such elf even bent his legs around his neck and behind his head. A display that, while slightly disturbing, earned him more then a few pieces of silver.

In other places, not so distant from the marketplace, she found living stone constructs that obeyed every command they were given. Huge insects and rodents being used as hounds. As well as a few shops with signs she couldn't read.

If her circumstances weren't so dire, and the elves so hostile, she would've liked to pay them a visit. For now she settled with a passing glance as she pressed on, deeper into the crowds.

But, as she slipped back in, veiling herself beneath the towering elves, a hand settled on her shoulder. It's grip was firm, secure, the Ardin running through it giving it enough strength to keep her in place. Slowly, she turned to look at her captor and frozen when she finally caught sight of him.

He was tall, even for an elf. His hair was a sandy shade of blond. In his eyes, lake blue in color, she could see her own reflection staring back at her, and despite the circumstances she found herself cringing at herself. 

She didn't know she was that big.

Armor straining to hold her, it looked like it was about to fall off of she so much as breathed too hard. Which she was pretty she almost did a few times already, making the armor even looser on her. And as she stared at her own reflection, the elf moved, turning away from the direction she was going and pulling her down into an alley out of sight.

Abigail was pretty sure she could take him here, out of sight where nobody would see, and then she'd get back to her search. But the elf took his hand off and shoved it into his pocket, before he pulled out a square of yellow paper.

"I'm Marl, gateguard, one of the ones that brought you in. Mind answering some questions?"

"It depends on the questions."

Marl frowned. "look, I'm not against you here or anything. I just, I just need some answers."

"... Fine. Go ahead. Shoot."

"Where'd you get that armor."

Abigail shifted uncomfortably. "I'd rather not say."

"Was it stolen?"

"No, maybe. Kind of, okay. I was going to return it when I, if I, ever got the chance."

"And when would that be?"

"I don't know. After I found something else to wear."

"Like another disguise? Or, something that fits?"

"Either."

"So you did steal it. Why?"

"I need it."

"Okay, so you need it. Why?"

"Because I can't go around without it and not get assaulted."

"Why would someone assault you? Did you do something? Is your face that recognizable under the mask?"

"It's not my face. Not exactly, okay. Look, I just need this for right now. Okay."

"... Alright. Assuming that's true, what do you need it for?"

"I'm looking for someone. A friend."

"Who's this friend?"

"I can't tell you that."

"What can you tell me about him, then?"

"He needs my help."

"Why?"

"He's lost too."

"Lost? How old is he?"

"Uh. I think he's like 64 or something close to that. But it's not that kind of lost."

"What kind is it?"

"The 'I accidentally traveled to another world' kind."

"..."

"I'm serious." 

"... I think I'm gonna need some kind of proof for that one."

Abigail took off her mask. Her black hair fell down in a wave and revealed her ears. They were flat and round, unlike any elf she'd seen so far. 

It was proof. 

"That good?"

"Yeah... I guess it is. What are you?"

"A human."

"Human? Never even heard'a that." He said, brows raised. Then, as if this was preplanned, he handed her the slip of yellow paper. "Here."

Abigail took it, unfolded it, and stared down at the map of the city.

There were two exits. One just south of the guard house, and another north of it. The south exit was the gate, where she had fallen unconscious, the north was another, much larger, gate - presumably under heavier guard.

"Near the north exit, there's a secret passage under the bakery. That's your way out."

Abigail squinted at the map. "Where's the bakery?"

Marl walked over and peered down at the map with her. Then he drew a line from where they currently stood all the way to a round building right next to the north exit. 

"That's the bakery."

She nodded. "Thanks."

Then, as if it would help, she put the mask back on. Again, it covered her face and hid her ears. A shield against discovery. But it was also a liability. 

It stood out, recognizable and more than obvious that it wasn't hers. She was both too big and too small for her stolen attire. The chest piece was fighting a losing battle against her chest. Her butt was taking up every available inch of space in her pants, leaving very little for her thighs and hips. The greaves she wore were a size or two bigger than appropriate, and her pauldrons were equally over large.

Still, she boldly strode out of the alley, back into the street, slipping in between the crowd and making her way to the bakery.

It was a surprisingly long walk.