by Lady Máire

When bedtime approached, Mark and Renee went into the bedroom for their last private night before the Goddess was supposed to arrive. The age read-out on the wall stated that Mark was only five and a half years old, with Renee barely topping out at five. Their age gap had closed almost completely.

"You know, angel," Mark piped in his child's voice, "When we were kissing in the bath-tub, it was a turn-on... But there just wasn't as much sexual energy behind it as I am used to feeling." He looked down at his diminished member - diminished even more by the fact that he had just gotten out of the bathtub. It wasn't going to be seeing much action for god (and goddess) only knew how long.

Renee looked down at her body too. Her once 40DD chest had flattened out to the point that her stomach protruded more. Her nipples were hard, but just from the fact that she was a little chilly. "Yeah, same here." She laughed a slight in her little girl's voice that seemed to make her adult mannerisms seem way out of kilter.

"What's so funny?" Asked Mark. For some silly reason he was fearing that she had found something on him to laugh at.

"Oh, it's just that when I used to stand up straight and look down, I couldn't see my feet because of my breasts being in the way. Now, if I bow my head a little, I can see the crease of my vagina."

The size of their surrounding environment never ceased to amaze either of them. The idea of having to climb into bed was almost bewildering. After scaling Mt. Kingsize, they held each other. Mark reached over, almost falling off the side of the bed to turn off the lamp. With the lights out, the worries came.

"Mark?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Do you think the goddess will show up?" The childish insecurity would have been cute coming from an actual child.

"Ummm... I hope so," Mark tried to sound confident, but even he felt scared. If she did not show up on time for some reason or another? What would happen if they regressed too far? Their regression had stopped for the night, but it would resume the next day. What if one of them fell while trying to get food? What if their minds started getting garbled and the replicator failed to understand...their... words.......

They both slept deeply.

"Oh damnit."

Renee woke up and regarded him with a frown of perplexity. Why does this little boy have a such a dirty mouth? She wondered. Then her mind caught up with her. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"This is really embarrassing, but I wet the bed." Mark was definitely embarrassed, for his face had two bright red coals for cheeks.

"Oh, it's okay!" She said in a chipper tone that was brighter than the "sun" shining through the window. "We'll clean it up. We'll go the replicator and make some new sheets. As she shifted her bottom, she felt dampness on her side. Wow, he must have really had to go, it's on my side...too? "Oh damn." Renee realized in a slightly disturbed voice. "I think I too had an accident. Let's go take a bath and get rid of this sticky feeling."

What would have taken a couple of minutes took close to ten. Getting the new sheets replicated was no problem, and the replicator seemed to be lower to the floor as well. The task of putting on the new sheets, however, was the difficult part. Their movements seemed to be clumsy at best, and they had to both cooperate in order to get the bed covered again. It was rather disturbing to relive the feelings of being defeated by size and their own physical inabilities.

After that task had been completed (with the end result looking shoddy at best), they sat down on the floor, wrapped in a replicated quilt, and watched cartoons. Apparently there was a Sailor Moon marathon on, but as they watched, they couldn't seem to keep their eyes open. Wow, Mark thought to himself, even simple chores are tiring now. He looked at Renee, who was already out like a light. Her face was noticeably pudgier, and her little tummy was bigger - not to mention very adorable. With her dark hair cut so short, she could have easily passed for a little boy, if one could not see her crotch, where there was nothing but a plump little crease.

Mark and Renee slept...well... like babies as they held each other. Their ages had been reduced to somewhere around two and a half years old, but still they slept on. By evening, they would awaken and they would be newborns, and hopefully the goddess would arrive to care for them in ways that they had both missed oh so much.

Little did either of the two young lovers realize that their tiny bubble would be sadistically burst in a mere space of two minutes.

Mark and Renee heard a noise coming from one of the locked doors in the hallway, and were immediately awakened. The noise was a low rumbling hum aggregated with a another sound that oddly resembled what one hears when he or she shakes a long tin saw blade. It was a tortured disharmony that seemed to take deep pleasure in its pain and only wanted to come in and share that experience with two toddlers.

Renee began crying as she clung to Mark as though he were some sort of life preserver in the middle of the ocean. Mark, on the other hand, only stared down the hall in mind-numbing terror.

The door seemed to bend in towards the hall, convexly, then to only bend back in upon itself in concave reversal. The rumbling hum and that horrible tin-warbling only grew in resonance before the door actually shattered like a fun house mirror. The remnants of the door could be heard tinkling like glass, but the fragments could not be seen. In fact, the only visible thing Mark and Renee could see was a soothing blue light that shined into the hallway. How could such a color be harmful?

The toddlers only sat and gazed at the events unfolding before them. What in the hell was the goddess doing? Why should it be necessary for her to make this sort of an entrance? Had she tricked them? Why the elaborate mind game when it was clearly obvious she could have done anything to them at any time she wanted? The only logical answer that either of the two could come up with pointed to something more sinister.

Something is coming to get us, both of their young minds comprehended in unison.

Just as they had realized what was going on, a lurking red form - almost like a mist, save for the fact that this appeared to be alive - crept into the hallway. Renee had never seen a more ugly shade of red in her entire life. It were as though infection, pain, and suffering had finally been given one languishing color, and it was slowly creeping towards them.

They stood up and attempted to run for the kitchen, but the creep had already blocked off that point of retreat. All they could do was just back themselves against the wall and await whatever horrible outcome would take place. "Don't let it touch me... Oh God don't let it... don't..." Renee whimpered.

When the red creep reached them, Mark felt as though he were watching gangrene devour a limb. His body felt dirty and feverish. He wanted to start scratching his flesh below the thigh - where the mist resided -- but he controlled the urge, for he knew that if he were to start, he would not be able to stop. He would continue scratching until he reached bone. The visual image of that got the best of him, for he could feel the contents of his stomach rising up. The whole world seemed to go dim as he fell to the floor, right into the mist. With the mist all around his entire body, he vomited.

He could feel Renee at his side, with her hand on his back. She was screaming something, but things seemed to be moving way too quickly for him to comprehend. The mist was retreating to the edge of the living room, now. He brought his tear-blurred gaze up to the hallway, where he saw the mist was not really retreating, but only piling up into a pillar of red smoke. That wasn't entirely correct, however. The pillar was solidifying - no, congealing into a form. The form of a man.

The form's color changed to a pale gray as the red retreated up to one of the being's eye sockets. Mark rubbed his eyes and backed away from the puddle of vomit that he had evacuated from his system. He stood up and held Renee tightly. This man-shaped being had to be at least six and a half feet tall - a height that was intimidating enough any other time, but was com- pounded by the fact that the both of them were barely toddlers.

When the form had finally taken on its finished state, it was the most bizarre looking thing either of the two babes had ever seen in their lives. It was a bald, gray skinned man in some sort of black uniform with a red flaw on the left breast that oddly resembled an eye. The face looked stern and seemed as though it had been carved from the hardest, coldest stone. Its right eye was the color of obsidian. The left eye was a different story. That eye was a red, gory, infected mess that resembled the mist in color. Spreading out from the socket were several cracks in the stern flesh that were just as red. They reached as far down as its lower jaw and as far up as his bald pate. It stared at them silently for a brief moment before smirking. The grin made reddish liquid seep from the cracks on its face.

Renee wet herself.

The being walked toward them, not saying a word. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of its foot steps, and the pittering of Renee's urine on the carpet. Neither child said nor did anything. They only watched the tall, gaunt figure approach them. When he stood directly in front of them, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Renee and lifted her up. He did it in such a gentle manner, it were as though he were a parent.

Mark snapped out of whatever daze he had been in at the last minute and grabbed at the tall figure. "NO YOU CAN'T TAKE HER! YOU'RE NOT TAKING HER!!!!!" Mark frantically. Renee sat in his arms, sucking her thumb silently. Her eyes were vacant, either from shock or some dark enchantment; Mark had no clue.

The being turned and started walking out of the room. His stride was enormous compared to the best Mark could do, which finally resided with him wrapping his little arms around the man's hard legs and being dragged across the living room floor. Mark could feel the friction burn of the carpet only distantly, but ignored it has he pleaded for the man to put her down.

He lost his grip on the man's boot leg and lay on the floor with his hand outstretched to Renee, who only stared at him blankly. She may very well have been staring at the urine stain behind him. Mark willed himself to stand, even if his tiny, nude stature was not the most intimidating sight, he did it regardless. Hatred boiled up inside him as watched the being turn to walk out the door it had entered.

"I'm going to find you one day," Mark hissed in a disturbing baby's voice. He knew he couldn't save her now. Not like this. But, he would come for her one day. Oh yes. He would come for her and her captor.

The figure carrying Renee turned and looked at the toddler staring up at him. Mark half expected the thing to attack him, but he stood his ground. Never had Mark concentrated his will so strongly on any moment in his entire life. If he was to meet a terrible fate here at the hands of this thing, so be it. Without Renee, he would have nothing left to live for. However, the tall man only smiled, then turned and walked out the door.

Where there had been a gaping hole that led out into only god knows where, in a flash of light was once again just a locked door. Mark's knees buckled under him, and he collapsed. He couldn't tell if it was from outright shock or the fact that he was probably now too young to stand. He thought of this abstractly as he crawled over to the empty blanket that had once held him and Renee in its comforting embrace.

He forced himself not to crack as he wrapped himself up in the blanket. He could feel himself shutting down and giving up. With the prospect of thinking being too painful, he simply went to sleep and shut the existence around him off from his mind.... What else could he do?

The Goddess, he thought to himself as sleep took him. She can make everything better.

Make everything better again...

Better...

Renee...

*To be continued...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: What? Don't look at me that way! I am just as surprised as everyone else that things have taken a turn in some twisted, unexpected direction. All I can say is that this story is writing itself from here on out. Perhaps it has been writing itself all along... Who knows... Anyway, I am just as curious as everyone else is. What's going to happen next?? Well, somehow the Goddess and Mark are going to have to find out who this being is that kidnaped Renee and why it/he did it. Until then, keep dreaming!

A Little Bubble Dream Part 3

by Lady Máire

The infant slept.

For Mark, there was nothing else he could have done. He was too weak to really make much of a movement. The "world" that his little bubble inhabited was a terrifying nightmare of uncertainty where gods and goddesses looked on as things came and took small children away. Maybe that shouldn't have been too disturbing, considering the fact that Mark and Renee had come from a world where things like war, disease, and hunger always took small children away while deities did nothing. Of course, they had had their whole lives to get used to those facts of physical existence. War, disease, and hunger were merely rules in the game. Grotesque, demonic creatures stealing children away from their loved ones was just supposed to be something better left to grade-B Hollywood movies.

Those thoughts passed from his little head like a dream on waking when he felt Her presence. The Goddess. Her name had finally assumed a permanent proper noun status. Of course, he did not consciously think of such technicalities. The foremost thought on his mind was She's here. She's here and now all wrongs will be set to right. He couldn't quite remember exactly what had happened that felt so horribly wrong, in fact, the only feeling that came to him was one of incompleteness. The emptiness gnawed at him. He also felt incredibly hungry...When had he last eaten?

Eat?

Eating didn't seem right. He was hungry, but he didn't want to eat. He wanted something in his mouth. Placing his foot or a hand in it had made him feel comfortable, but he needed something else in his mouth aside from those substitutes. If he only had that particular something, all would be well. What was it? He needed it but what was it? He felt scared all of a sudden. Why couldn't he just go get it himself? What did he need? He was hungry. That something would end his hunger. But what was it? And if he had no idea what it was, how could he get it? And his stomach was aching from emptiness and everything felt empty...But those warm, gentle arms that held him had to know the answer. They had to!

Mark cried. It startled even him at first. When had he cried in such a way before? It felt right, though, so he cried even louder.

I EXIST! His mind converted into wails. I AM I AM I AM I AM I AM I AM I AM I AM!! HEAR ME AND END THIS! I EXIST AND I NEED THIS-

The Goddess revealed a plump breast, swollen with her sacred and holy milk. Mark's head was moved to it, and he immediately knew this was the secret thing that his body and soul yearned for. To put it in a less than delicate way, he desperately latched on to her swollen nipple. He heard someone - The Goddess! - sigh with a true feeling of satisfaction. In fact, the whole universe had seemed to sigh with relief. In that brief instant before his mouth touched her nipple, it was as if everything had come to a screeching halt. Worlds, realities, everything. Monarchs and wizards alike tossed and turned in their sleep. Gateways vibrated. Towers trembled. And demons looked up from the swamp of negativity and waited. Then everything resumed. The connection had been made. Somewhere a Divine Unity resided over all, and it saw that this was good.

She had wanted him to want her milk. He had needed only to scream out to her...And she understands! I did not even know what I wanted, but she did! Someone understands me! I have given her a sense of completeness.

As he suckled from her divinity, not only was the milk filling his belly and ceasing his hunger, but it seemed to be coursing through his veins. Mark was experiencing the truth of magick. He had been weak. Lost. Frightened. She had taken all those things away because that was her will and her nature to do so. All love sprang from the nurture of a mother. Love. That undefinable word that contained so many feelings was all summed up in one moment that would determine his feelings for the rest of his life without him even knowing.

As the baby slept in her arms, the Goddess regarded him lovingly. Things would now be set in motion. He would be the one. She had always known that. The other child had been taken by them, but they could not take both. Their power was strong. Many would never have expected them to make such a bold move. Not only were they strong enough to punch through into the bubble, but they had been able to take the girl.

If they had been a little stronger. She speculated. They would have taken him as well.

The physical plane was crumbling. World after world had fallen to them, and still they pushed on. Punching into a new physical reality by infesting the people's dreams and then when a person's dreams became so twisted, he would join with them. And then the world would become a battleground. Mark and Renee's world had been barely holding on. They had fought an incredibly brutal war to destroy a country that had truly been in the dark hands of them. They had told these humans lies. Feeding their fire of hatred and telling them what they wanted to hear so they would destroy that world. Other humans stood together, and had destroyed that horrible nation. So many millions had been slaughtered before it had been stopped, though.

Yes, they had been pushed out of that world, but just as they had come in and taken the little girl out of the Goddess' bubble, they would bid for mastery of that world again - and the Goddess wasn't entirely certain who would win the next contest. The line must be drawn, the Goddess thought harshly. Many of us had stood back and avoided the conflict, because we truly believed that the Divine Unity would stop it all in due time, but aren't things starting to get out of hand? How many more worlds would fall? And then what after the entire physical plane collapses? Then what?

She knew. They would simply push the rot and suffering into the next level of reality. This plane. The thought echoed in her mind.

Yes, things had gone way too far, but maybe she could help stop it. She had made a bold move of her own. By bringing those two children up a level, she just might have startled them. Of course she had startled them! Why else would they have dared violating her bubble? It was a move of possible desperation. They could not afford to lose, so they struck as hard as possible. For some reason the boy was beyond their grasp, but they grabbed what they could. The girl. Would the girl's absence be enough to throw things off?

The Goddess didn't know, but she did not think that they knew, either. She would enter the struggle now. With or without the little girl, she would have to push on. There was no backing out now. This boy would be her champion and only he could save the girl, and possibly strike a critical blow into their effort.

Her champion slept peacefully in her arms, and she shined her radiant smile upon him.

A Little Bubble Dream

Part 4

The Queen of Ederyssbael paraded the streets of the city's capital, making an effort not to cast her eyes down to the commoners. The starving, filthy wretches made her want to expel her last meal. If she concentrated hard enough on the stable boy, back on her favorite estate, she could almost forget about the stenches that wafted up to her royal chariot. The peasants had no sense of shame, whatsoever. She could hear them begging for food and money. Ha! What sort of Queen did they take her for? Charity was for the weak.

"Drive the chariot faster, handler!" The handler nodded and eased the acceleration up a notch. Soon, the Queen's royal chariot was sailing above the heads of the lesser classes at a wonderful pace. If the forty-one year old Chrynessa the VI had still been just a princess, she would have freed her hair from its crowned confines, allowing it to flow behind her like the mane of a vestal unicorn. Unfortunately, time and bitterness had combined to make her too fastidious for such free-acting.

"Your Majesty, is there any particular destination you would like me to take you?"

Chrynessa, with an extraordinary amount of effort, managed to hold back from giving the handler a thorough castigation for breaking her daydreams. "Anywhere away from these unbathed dregs." Her thoughts danced back to the stable boy once again, and with a lustful smile, she added: "To the Hansergard Stables. I feel like doing a little riding."

"Your will shall be done, Highness." Spoke the handler in perfect obedience, for there was no other proper response.

As they left the huddled buildings of the peasantry and made it to the open countryside, Queen Chrynessa sighed with a slight smile as she inhaled the crisp, clean autumn air. The Queen probably should have remained in the city, for she did have an appointment with the parliament, but the old stinking fuddy-duddies would just have to wait, and they would. The last time parliament stood against a monarch resulted in their heads being sat atop dozens of flag-poles throughout the kingdom. Since then, the old chaps had learned some manners.

When the handler and Chrynessa finally arrived at the stables, the Queen had already worked herself up in anticipation for what might await her in Kelsmit the stableboy's capable hands. During the past ten minutes of flying the Queen's complexion had filled with roses - as she had tightly crossed her legs beneath her flowing dress, and proceeded to bounce one leg upon her other knee. It was not the most efficient form of masturbation under the sun, but she had no intentions of pulling up her dress and fingering her sensitive regions in the presence of the handler.

Upon landing, the rose-cheeked monarch descended the steps that had lowered from her chariot to the ground. Without making eye contact with the chariot handler, "Go find a tavern wench or something," the Queen told him. "But don't get so drunk that you cannot fly me back to the palace, or I'll make sure that you will never have anything to use on a harlot again."

The chariot handler gulped, unconsciously. Good, the Queen thought. I am glad we have such an understanding relationship.

Hurrying straight for the stables, servants rushed out of the small cottage close by to greet Her Majesty. They smiled nervously as she walked straight past them and into the cottage. After nearly a half hour of pampering and deciding on which riding outfit suited Her Majesty the best, the Queen finally exited the small house and made her way for the stables. Her stride was deliberate and almost masculine, save for the way her womanly hips swayed. Even at her age, she still had quite a body.

Entering the stable, she spotted a young man tending one of the stallions. The inside was poorly lit, but that was the way the Queen liked it. It added that extra bit of atmosphere that she loved the most about rolling in the hay. Only, when the boy walked into the light, he clearly was not Kelsmit. Instead of a tall, slender, eighteen year-old, there stood a somewhat short, young man of about twenty. He had greyish, blue eyes and blonde hair. He also had a mischievous smirk.

"Your not Kelsmit! Where's the stable boy?!" The Queen demanded. She had been momentarily caught off guard, but now her temper was flaring back with a vengeance.

"I gave him some time off. Such a young guy like him needs his rest. I would almost suspect that you people keep him working around the clock." The boy retorted, his self-assured smile not faltering in the least to the Queen's temper. Either he was stupid or profoundly suicidal, for no one talked to Queen Chrynessa the VI in such a matter!

No one!

"You little whelp, you do not dare insult me, for I am your Queen." She took a step forward with her finger pointed at him. "And, no one but me has the authority to grant leisure time to any of my servants. Now, where is Kelsmit?!"

The young man crossed his arms and glanced over to his right, to a pile of hay in the corner of the stables - god does no one clean up around here?! the Queen distantly thought. But, as she looked at the hay in the shadows, she could begin to make out a pile of clothes. She took a few steps toward the clothing and stopped when she caught view of something writhing underneath them.

It was a small baby.

The Queen looked up at the impudent young man and said: "This is not a nursery, this is my stable you son of a hussy. You made a terrible mistake bringing your baby that stinks of the field into a royal stable." Oh, he had no idea.

Or maybe, she had no idea.

"Your Highness, he's not my baby. Don't you recognize him?" The Queen's face took on a puzzled expression as she leaned down to get a better look at the infant. She pulled back the large tunic and examined the baby ever closer. She knew of no babies in her current years. Her own children had long since grown up, and she had not had any more since the third girl was born. She knew of no one in the palace with a baby boy, not that she would have paid any attention, anyway.

Only, there was something familiar about the infant. Something about the way his eyes looked at her pleadingly. The color of his eyes, the shape of his facial features, the little teardrop-shaped birthmark on his left hip. It all looked familiar....it looked like....

...like Kelsmit.

The baby gurgled something that made no sense, nor should it have. Then, all of a sudden, the baby boy began to urinate. His tiny stream, issuing forth from his equally tiny penis arched into the air, and a couple of feet in front of him. Queen Chrynessa looked down at her left riding boot, which was getting spitter-spattered with baby pee. She gasped and took several steps back, nearly losing her balance and falling.

The Queen whirled around and screamed: "What is the meaning of this?! This is not Kelsmit's home to house his bastard offspring! Where is he, you fucking twit?!"

"My dear Queen, you really ought to calm down. And you should have figured it out by now. After all, have you not seen your lover naked before? Don't you recognize him in the least? His birthmark? His eyes? He would try to tell you, himself, but it's hard to formulate sentences when your busy piddling on the boots of monarchs."

"What are you talking about? That makes no sense... Kelsmit...isn't..."

The birthmark.

The eyes.

The look of unbaby-like fear.

Oh my god...it can't be...

"Oh yes, I'm afraid it can be. And it is." The young man had snatched the words straight out of her mind! She uttered a bark-like scream of shock.

"GUUUUAAAAAAAAAAARDDDSS!!!!" The Queen of Ederyssbael shreiked louder than a burning banshee. Within mere seconds, two guards and three of her hand maidens had entered the stables. They were confronted by a wailing baby, a smirking young man, and the Queen, who had a look they had never seen on her face.

Although it held anger and outrage, her visage also betrayed to them her fear.

Fear, on the Queen's face?

The Guards took a few steps forward, before one of them shouted: "Your majesty, at your service!"

"Kill this man and that baby! Right here! Do it now!" She was not to be trifled with, and she did not like the feeling that the situation might be slipping free from her grasp. She wanted these bizarre events to come to an end right then and there.

"Your Majesty...but... the baby as well?"

"You heard me, lest I add you to the list!!"

The guards composed themselves, fighting off the feelings of initial uneasiness as they strode over to grab the intruder. When they took him by both arms, he offered no resistance, nor did he lose the cocky expression on his face. He's not so insane as to challenge my authority, after all! Not insane at all. Just crazy. Thought the Queen to herself.

"Your Majesty," Spoke the young man.

Expecting him to beg for forgiveness, something she wanted the little bastard to do all along, "Yes, whelp?" she responded with a cocked eyebrow.

"Perhaps you would rather my blood be spilt out on the chopping block used for the farm animals, instead of ruining your beautiful stable floor with such an ugly shade of crimson." Oh indeed, he was quite insane.

"Very well, guards take him out there and do it...slowly. Don't off his head in one blow, I want this to be a lesson in pain for our interloper." The two young guards nodded as they took the boy off to be placed on the chopping block and...

Young guards?!

Chrynessa examined the young boys from her vantage point of about 4 meters away. She frowned at the sloppy way in which they wore their uniforms, as if they had neglected to have them tailored. The Queen's royal guard was supposed to be composed of battle hardened veterans, and not slovenly pups. She marked them for disciplining for after they finished teaching that other young pup a lesson in manners.

Queen Chrynessa followed the disheveled guards and their captor out into the autumn-lit yard of the stables. As she passed by the fresh-faced hand-maidens, she failed to notice how long their dresses were. They obediently followed behind her, tripping over their skirts all the way. What she did notice, however, was that the guards were barely at equal height with the short young man in their restraint. This was beginning to bother the Queen for several reasons. One reason was that if these two boys were supposed to be representatives of her guard, she would have some rather severe questions to demand upon her security minister. Secondly, and this was something she would not completely admit to herself, but what if the young man were some sort of magician, like her Guardian.

When the boys, stumbling on clunky boots - and somewhat shorter than the cocky young man - finally reached the chopping block, one of them in a crackled voice told him to kneel and place his head upon the maroon-stained block. The young man complied without a word, lowering himself, but never losing the self-assured grin on his somewhat pleasant features. The Queen watched in anticipation, waiting for the blood to flow. The insanity of the day would be half over, all that would remain would be the baby in yon stable, which was no threat whatsoever.

Looking for the axe, one of the clumsy guards finally spotted it, firmly jutting at an angle from a block next to the woodpile. He stumbled over to it and tried to pull the axe out of the wood with one hand, but that was no longer possible at this juncture. He gave a frightened glance in the direction of Queen Chrynessa. She only stood silently with her arms crossed. Behind her, she heard the hand-maidens exchange timid giggles at the boy's apparent weakness. The Queen clenched her teeth together, but held her peace. Was her entire stable being run by a gaggle of immature school children?

The boy, now sweating and with flushed features, gripped the axe with both hands, placed an oversized boot against the block of wood, and exerted as much force as possible. When he finally broke the axe free from its confines, his own over-compensation sent him tumbling on his ass with an armor chinked thud. This time the girls behind the Queen broke out into unrestricted giggling fits.

The Queen, finally losing her temper at the sad comedy unfolding around her, whirled around to face the hand-maidens, who were no longer there. In their stead were three twelve or thirteen year-olds playing dress-up. Only, the Queen was not stupid, whether she wanted to pretend ignorance or not. She began to finally face the situation for face value. She turned back to the young man and the boyish guards.

Mark stood up, brushing the straw from his knees and his smile widened. He was at least a full head taller than the guard standing beside him. The guard, speaking of which, looked ridiculous! The Queen phased all of the children surrounding her out of her attention span, and simply focused on the young magician.

"What is the meaning of this...how dare you come here like you are some sort of authority over me. How dare you! When they find about this, you will have no where to hide, for they will find you!"

"And, speaking of those people, the magician answered, we have some things to discuss, you and I....about them."

"I won't tell you a damned thing about them!"

"Oh, you won't?" Mark waved his hand over a nearby bucket of water, intended to be given to some sort of farm animal. The water instantly levitated into the air and stopped once it had positioned itself directly in front of the Queen. All she could see was her reflection, which was exactly what he had wanted to show her.

She looked to be in her twenties.

"You have no right working your craft on me! You dare not! You dare not!!"

"I have come here looking for someone. A woman, or a girl. She used to go by the name of Renee."

An image formed in the murky water of a girl she immediately recognized, but Chrynessa was not going to admit it to the likes of him. Especially when she was more afraid of what they might do to her if she gave away such information.

"I don't know who that is, boy!"

"Boy? Right now I would say that such a young lady like yourself should be more respectful of those older."

The water lost it's defiance of gravity, and splashed down to the ground, instantly soaking the lower portion of the Queen's dress and her delicate slippers, which seemed to be better fitting her than they had in quite a long while. She had always squeezed her feet into the shoes with the help of two maidens, insisting that she had worn the same size since she was eighteen.

"Well, then. I am sure we can always teach a young dog new tricks, eh?" The Queen's face went from fear to stark outrage in a blink of the eye.

"Oh! You... How fucking dare you! You...!" She stopped when she realized how girlish her voice had become. She coughed in attempt to clear her throat before going on. "No one talks to the Queen like that!"

"Well, why don't you just help me and everything will be fine?"

The Queen felt herself slip a half of a foot in height. She had to be about twelve or thirteen now. The frightened children dressed as guards looked, from a liberal estimate, to be about seven years old. The Queen expected that the girls behind her were fairing no better, although she never bothered taking her baleful stare from the young magician's eyes - even though the young man was now probably close to twice her own physical age.

"Fuck you!" She whined in a bratty tone that made even Her Majesty flinch with increasing discomfort. It was the whiney voice she had used constantly as a spoiled aristocrat growing up in her father's palace. If her old butlers and nannies had still been alive, they would have shuddered with a wave of bad memories coursing over them as well.

"You...!" She tried to say something chilling and cruel, but nothing came to mind. He had her by the tits, and there was little she could do. Renee (although she knew the sorceress by a different name) would be extremely perturbed when she found out about what had happened to one of the rulers of her worlds - reduced to a child by some hood!

After searching for one phrase of defiance, the six year old, in a puddle of gigantic clothing - who had once been Queen Chrynessa the VI of Ederyssbael - finally grasped one sentence. It was all she had, but she would go down refusing him as little pleasure as possible. "Do you expect me to talk!?" Mark's eyes twinkled with mischief, as though she had reminded him of something long forgotten."

Mark simply responded with: "Why no, Miss Chrynessa, I expect you to cry."

And down she went, almost like being dropped from a building. The world grew rapidly around her until she was but a microcosm in comparison. Her utter helplessness invoked feelings in her that she had thought had long since been destroyed.

And cry she did.

Máire Flynn (maireflynn@cs.com)