Elyra Confesses the Truth to Arden
A Night of Laughter, Legacy, and Lightness Before the Storm
The sun had dipped low, washing Aurelthane’s estate in molten gold. The practice hall was quiet now — except for the faint echo of Maestro Tivalis somewhere in another wing muttering:
Tivalis (distant):
“…never in my life… rhythmicide… utter devastation… two elves and not a beat between them…”
Inside Elyra’s borrowed room — where she’d been absolutely not eavesdropping earlier (she 100% was) — she sat cross-legged on the bed, her legs finally warm, alive, hers again.
Pancake lay on his back beside her, cosmic belly up, radiating smugness.
A soft knock came.
Elyra:
“Come in!”
Arden entered with her typical gentle glow, a teapot hovering behind her by divine telekinesis.
Arden:
“Thought you might like tea after surviving your parents’… rehearsal.”
Elyra inhaled dramatically.
Elyra:
“Arden. They’re hopeless.”
Arden’s eyes widened.
Arden:
“Oh no.”
Elyra:
“No Arden. It’s worse.”
She slid off the bed and began pacing like a war general delivering tragic news.
Pancake rolled upright, invested.
Elyra:
“I have seen many horrors. I lived in a mirror. I’ve battled gods, undead, and one insultingly smug skeleton.”
She held out her hands as if unveiling something catastrophic.
Elyra:
“But NOTHING — NOTHING — compares to whatever that was downstairs.”
Arden covered her mouth to stifle laughter.
Arden:
“Oh Light, was it really that bad?”
Elyra marched up to her and grabbed her shoulders.
Elyra:
“Arden. My mother almost stepped on Maestro Tivalis’s lute.”
Arden:
“…how?”
Elyra:
“I don’t KNOW, it was BEHIND him.”
Arden’s glow flickered — her holy aura breaking with giggles.
Elyra continued, eyes wild:
Elyra:
“And Dad! Dad tried — and I cannot stress this enough — to explain the mathematical arc of a twirl.”
Arden:
“No…”
Elyra:
“Yes.”
Arden wheezed.
Elyra:
“And when he demonstrated, he spun so fast he nearly set his coat on fire from friction.”
Arden folded forward laughing.
Elyra leaned in close, whispering with absolute seriousness:
Elyra:
“Arden… they are DANGEROUS.”
Pancake chimed in with a cosmic chirp.
Pancake (telepathically, only to Elyra):
He almost exploded.
Elyra nodded solemnly.
Elyra:
“See? Even Pancake knows.”
Arden wiped tears from her eyes.
Arden:
“Alright… alright… but surely it wasn’t all bad?”
Elyra paused.
Elyra:
“…well.”
Her face softened.
Elyra:
“They never stopped smiling.”
Arden’s expression warmed.
Elyra:
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mum look so happy. And Dad kept forgetting the steps because he wouldn’t stop staring at her like she hung the stars.”
Arden pressed a hand to her heart.
Arden:
“That’s love, Elyra.”
Elyra nodded slowly.
Elyra:
“It is. It really is.”
She plopped back onto the bed, swinging her legs — still so grateful she could.
Elyra (sighing):
“…but they’re still hopeless.”
Arden burst into laughter again.
Arden:
“Then we’ll all just have to cheer extra loud on the day.”
Elyra grinned.
Elyra:
“Oh we will. Trust me. The moment the music starts, the Dice are ALL joining in. Otherwise someone’s dying.”
Pancake lifted both paws in agreement.
Elyra leaned back, smiling up at the ceiling, fear eased for a moment.
Her legs felt warm.
Her heart felt lighter.
Her family was safe — for now.
Elyra:
“…I can’t wait to see Mum in her dress.”
Arden:
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“And your father in his jacket.”
Elyra giggled.
Elyra:
“He’s going to cry.”
Arden:
“They both are.”
Elyra:
“Good.”
They shared soft laughter, the kind that made the dark feel distant and the future feel bright.
SERETH’S BOOT TRIAL RUNS — “THE HIP-HIGH CHAOS ARC” ?
(with the reference boots and Elaris absolutely, utterly undone)
SCENE — “THE LEGENDARY BOOT PARADE”
Aurelthane’s guest chambers were peaceful.
The birds outside trilled.
The morning sun poured through filigree windows in warm gold ribbons.
And then—
THUD.
THUD-THUD.
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—
Elaris shot upright in bed.
Elaris:
“…by the Lattice, what is that?!”
He blinked twice, shoved his hair back—
—and then Sereth stepped out of the washroom.
Wearing the hip-high boots.
Those boots.
The ones that reached so high they should have required a climber’s kit and Sherpa guide.
Brown leather, soft and sculpted, hugging every curve of her legs all the way up to her hips. The tall V-shaped design mirrored her ranger leathers — but elevated, refined, elegant, and utterly lethal.
Sereth stood in the doorway with one hand on her hip.
Sereth (deadpan):
“Morning.”
Elaris forgot how to breathe.
He made a sound.
Not a coherent word.
A squeak? A choke? Some kind of spell component maybe?
Elaris:
“Ah— wh— the— I— boots.”
Sereth's smirk sharpened.
Sereth:
“Yes. Boots. Do you like them?”
Elaris, internally: NOPE. BRAIN BROKEN. GOODBYE.
Elaris, externally:
“…I—I’m—fine.”
He was not fine.
Sereth sauntered across the room, and the boots creaked in a way that was illegal. Straight-up illegal. The Ranger’s Gait of Doom.
She stopped in front of him.
Sereth:
“These ones are… comfortable.”
She lifted her leg to rest her foot on the edge of the bed.
The leather hugged her thigh so high the top nearly brushed her hipbone.
Elaris’s soul left his body.
Sereth (sweetly):
“You’re staring, El.”
Elaris (lying):
“No I’m not.”
Sereth:
“Yes you are.”
Elaris:
“…perhaps.”
Sereth leaned closer.
Sereth:
“You said you’d buy me new boots, remember? After Frostmaw.”
She dragged a finger down the seam of the boot.
“These seemed appropriate.”
Elaris swallowed so hard it echoed.
Sereth:
“I also brought… others.”
She gestured behind her.
Elaris followed her gaze—
—and his jaw unhinged.
Because spread across the room like the world’s deadliest fashion armory were:
- knee-high hunter’s leathers
- dark suede stormwalkers
- assassin-sleek boots with silver clasps
- fur-trimmed snowstriders
- soft doeskin ranger flats
- high-heeled battle boots (Elaris prayed to every deity that these were not practical but Sereth would prove him wrong)
And—
At the very end of the row—
Her favorite pair.
The hip-height ones.
The catastrophe boots.
The ones currently destroying Elaris’s frontal lobe.
Sereth lifted her leg off the bed and strutted over to the next pair.
Sereth:
“Sit back. I’m not done.”
Elaris obeyed with the obedience of a man who had long realized he was helpless.
BOOT #2 — “THE SHADOWDANCERS”
Soft black leather.
Silent as moonlight.
Sereth spun once, a full ranger pivot, and the boots didn’t make a sound.
Elaris:
“…I didn’t know boots could do that.”
Sereth:
“They can when you’re light on your feet.”
She winked.
Elaris forgot how speaking worked.
BOOT #3 — “THE FROSTWALKERS”
Fur-lined, sturdy, made for blizzards.
Sereth stomped once and the boards shuddered.
Sereth:
“Perfect for Northreach.”
Elaris:
“Absolutely. You’re… incredible.”
Sereth raised a brow.
Sereth:
“I’m wearing boots, Elaris.”
Elaris:
“Yes. That too.”
BOOT #4 — “THE TWIN DAGGERS”
High heels.
Dark leather.
Straps up the calves like serpent coils.
Elaris was gone. Vaporized. Done for.
Sereth walked past intentionally slowly.
Sereth:
“These seem… dressy.”
Elaris (hoarse):
“…yes.”
Sereth:
“Maybe too dressy.”
Elaris:
“…no.”
She smirked.
BOOT #5 — “THE HIP-HIGH DEMISE OF Elaris VORN” (Finale Pair)
When Sereth slipped into them again — the towering thigh-highs from the first reveal — Elaris sat forward involuntarily, as if drawn by a gravitational pull.
Sereth walked toward him with slow, predatory grace.
Sereth:
“Now… these.”
She lifted her leg onto his lap.
Sereth:
“Be honest. Do these make me look—”
Elaris:
“—perfect.”
Sereth blinked.
Sereth:
“I didn’t even finish.”
Elaris:
“You didn’t need to.”
A soft laugh escaped her, warm, genuine.
Her hand cupped his cheek.
Sereth (quietly):
“These are my favorites too.”
Their eyes held.
A moment stretched, tender and electric.
Then—
Sereth’s playful grin returned.
Sereth:
“I’m buying all of them.”
Elaris:
“…all?”
Sereth:
“All twelve pairs.”
Elaris:
“How did we go from one to twelve?”
Sereth:
“Because I want them.”
She kissed his forehead.
Sereth:
“And because you promised not to upset your fiancée.”
Elaris:
“…I did say that.”
Sereth:
“And because you like these.”
She raised her leg slightly.
Elaris was defeated instantly.
Elaris (surrendering fully):
“Yes. Gods help me, yes.”
Sereth laughed — delighted — and tugged him up by the shirt collar.
Sereth:
“Come on. We need to show Elyra that her parents are fashionable even if they can’t dance.”
Elaris groaned.
Elaris:
“She’s never letting that go.”
Sereth:
“Nope.”
She kissed him softly.
“But you have me in boots up to my hips.”
Elaris:
“…worth it.”
THE DAY SERETH REVEALED THE BOOTS
(Two days before the wedding — Thornmere Lodge, Aurelthane’s guest manor)
The morning sun filtered through the tall glass windows of their temporary quarters, scattering soft gold across the floorboards. Sereth emerged from behind a wooden privacy screen with a grin that was far too predatory for daylight.
Elaris looked up from lacing his vest.
Elaris:
“…Should I be worried?”
Sereth only winked, then called down the corridor:
Sereth:
“Elyraaa! Come here for a second!”
Elyra arrived at a sprint, bow over her shoulder, braid swinging. Pancake trotted in behind her like a pompous violet shadow.
Elyra pushed into the room—
—saw Sereth—
—and screamed.
Not a frightened scream.
An “OH MY GODS” scream.
Elyra:
“THEY GO TO YOUR HIPS— THOSE ARE AMAZING—YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO KICK A DEMIGOD THROUGH A WALL!”
She circled Sereth like a hawk around prey, inspecting every seam, every contour, every ridiculous, devastating inch of boot.
Elyra:
“Can you even bend your knees? Oh my gods, do it—walk—walk across the room—”
Sereth (walking, smug, powerful):
“I can bend everything just fine.”
Elyra squealed again, hands over her mouth.
Pancake strutted between them and nodded in cosmic approval, as if blessing the boots on behalf of the universe.
Sereth beamed. Elaris…
…was slowly turning pink.
Because behind Sereth, through the cracked door, approaching footsteps—heavy, laughing, chaotic— echoed down the hallway.
Kaer and Garruk.
Elaris froze.
Elaris:
“Oh no. No no no no—”
He dove behind the bed.
Actually dove.
Cape and all.
Sereth blinked.
Sereth:
“…Sweetheart?”
Elaris (hissing):
“They’re going to have OPINIONS—!”
The door slammed open.
Kaer:
“WHERE’S THE GROOM?!”
Garruk:
“WE HEARD SCREAMING! IS IT THE BOOTS?!”
Elaris curled tighter behind the bedframe.
Elaris:
“I’m not here.”
Garruk burst out laughing so hard the rafters shook.
Garruk:
“HE IS HIDING!”
Kaer leaned down, spotting Elaris’ boot tip.
Kaer:
“Oh good gods, he’s actually cowering.”
Elyra doubled over wheezing.
Sereth, hands on hips, smirked:
“He gets flustered.”
Garruk:
“So the rumours are TRUE! The mighty Shepherd undone by thigh-high leather!”
Elaris groaned in surrender.
Elaris:
“I hate all of you.”
ARDEN ARRIVES WITH… A BLESSING?
As chaos continued, Arden slipped in through the doorway holding his mug of morning tea.
Arden (deadpan):
“I heard there are new boots requiring divine intervention.”
Sereth lifted a leg and presented the boot like an artifact.
Arden placed a hand gently to the top of the boot, closed his eyes—
Arden (solemnly):
“Blessings of balance… stability… dexterity… and—”
He cracked a smile.
Arden:
“—and may they never, ever cause the groom to walk into a doorframe because he’s too busy staring.”
Elaris choked.
Sereth nearly cried laughing.
Elyra applauded.
Pancake clapped his little paws together, because of course he did.
Arden patted the boot.
Arden:
“You are now holy footwear.”
Kaer:
“Praise be.”
Garruk:
“AMEN.”
Sereth, wiping tears from her eyes, stepped over to Elaris’ hiding spot and offered him her hand.
Sereth (soft, teasing):
“You okay, love?”
Elaris took her hand, stood, and kissed her knuckles with dramatic resignation.
Elaris:
“I am marrying a woman who now wields weaponized footwear and an entire party determined to humiliate me.”
Sereth kissed him lightly.
Sereth:
“You adore me.”
Elaris (melting instantly):
“…Yes. Completely.”