In the beginning, cold was the realm of Gaia, and all who roamed under her gaze were slow and afraid; for long and bitter the winters were, haunted by horrors unspeakable, spawns of the frigid dark.
Then arose Ygraelia the Sun-Bringer, greatest of the Elves. A great expedition she led, across the Seven Wastelands and the Frozen Sea; arduous and perilous was their journey, and their host, thousand strong, dwindled with each waning of the stars. When at last they reached the Heart of Gaia and beheld the Forge of Molten Souls, there remained only Ygraelia and two others: Solyak the Strong, slayer of coldspawn and master of the path, and Kalafina, the Magus of Second Light, keeper of the secrets whims of Gaia.
Thus Ygraelia spoke to them: “We triumvirate shall craft upon this Forge a heart of fire and raise it to the sky, so that its warmth may spread upon the face of Gaia and end our people’s plight. For unto our people the gods have bestowed great beauty, yet for uncounted millennia we have worn thick garments of wool and leather that have eclipsed the contours of our bodacious butts. Such cruelty we shall suffer no longer. Lend me your strength, brother, sister. Let us end this eternal night.”
But Kalafina refuted her, for the will of Gaia ever whispered in her hear, and it was displeased. “What are we, brave Ygraelia, to disobey the will of the gods? Gaia has ever been cold and lifeless, and we are but shadows ephemeral, unworthy to tread in its steps. In time, into the Ether our beauty shall pass, and for precious little reason we would have forever marred the face of Gaia with a burning scar.”
Solyak, upon hearing the words of Kalafina, raised his great hammer in ardent defiance. “Heed, sorceress! All this way we marched, countless kin lost in the tundra, and now, at the cusp of final victory, you would question our purpose? Unto you I say this: great is the beauty of our butts. Greater still is the beauty of Ygraelia. Aught there be a cause greater than the beholding of her curvaceous behind in the warm light of a burning star? Nay! This great pleasure you shall not deny!”
And Ygraelia watched with dismay as her friends fought before the heart of Gaia, as the mountains sang with clashing steel and stone asunder. To the Forge of Molten Souls she prayed, with a song woven with love and sorrow: “Hear my plea, merciful Gaia: I have a booty most lavish, most fair. To confine such good in a prison of unsightly wool is an injustice most grave. All Elvenkind – indeed, all who walks this frigid land – desire to admire such a chiselled behind. I beg of you, bestowed upon me the Great Hammer of Kalmiras so that I may craft a star, and its warmth shall bring joy to all Gaia, for unleashed will be the beauty that is freed booty.”
Thus the Heart of Gaia was moved, for it has never before heard such poetry from the one of the elven folk, and its heart was glad. Thus the Hammer of Kalmiras was seared into Ygraelia’s grasp, and she with one mighty blow struck upon the Forge of Molten Souls. A great din echoed in the Heart of Gaia as a great spark rose from the cold tundra and ascended into the sky, illuminating all that which rested in Gaia’s embrace. Solyak and Kalafina ceased their endless strife and raised their eyes to meet the ardent light, and upon their skin there was a great warmth, a balm of vitality, a soul-born ire of that which came to be a Sun for all elvenkind.
Unto Ygraelia they exclaimed, with voices of joy: “Light! Warmth! What delight you have brought us, fair Ygraelia! No longer will we stifle our forms under heavy cloaks. Come, let us gaze upon your beauty!”
Shrouded in hues golden and divine, Ygraelia cast off her cumbersome cloak and revealed that which was gifted to her by the Almari, herald of all elvenkind: a butt most shapely, most exquisite, sculpted as if by the very will of Gaia to bestow beauty upon the land. Clad in but a thin material of midnight black that nigh reached her thighs, Ygraelia raised her fair voice to the heavens so that all her kindred, who have scattered throughout the seven wastelands or taken refuge beyond the seas, would hear her proclamation for the dawn of this new age, this age of warmth, this Age of Butts:
‘Let it be known that elvenkind cowers no more in fear of the cold, of the dampest dark! Gaia’s heart I have beseeched, and it has deemed our butts worthy of warmth and illumination. From this day forth, nothing shall be made to cover our behinds other than the holiest of garments, that which was worn by the Almira as they roved from the Frozen Seas to these once inhospitable lands. Throughout ages we have kept it hidden, under thick clothes that betrayed not our beauteous figure, but I say unto you – no longer! The Age of Butts is nigh! None shall deny us the exhibition of our sainted bottomwear to all who would direct their gaze! Rise, rise, thee Elves of Ygraelia, and bring to bear our most sacred creation to the hearth of mother Gaia: the Hot Pants!”
And all elves rejoiced, for the Sun newly arisen was bright and warm, and they made great pilgrimages to the Heart of Gaia to behold the Sun-Bringer, who wore naught but Almira’s Pants of Hotness, and the bodacious sight brought joy throughout the lands. Some say that even now, those who weareth the sacred garment of the Almira would stir fire into the coldest gaze, and bring warmth to the darkest of nights.