The woods were always dark. These woods, at least, always had that different feel about them. The trees were tall, their canopies dense, branches extending against each other to block out the sun. No grass grew, the thickness of the tree roots obliterating all simple chance of that. Yet, though wild animals such as devious wolves or even the occasional vicious bear wandered about, the miller held no fear.
He never even thought of these things as his feet crunched on dirt and scattered pieces of bark, his murky blue eyes cast upwards to look at the tall trees. The miller was a simple man, at the age of about four and fifty, not overly tall and never overly imposing, with a gently graying beard to match his gently graying hair. He wore peasant's clothes - indeed, he was very close to one. He and his family had fallen on hard times, and their poverty only seemed to increase with each day gone by. However, the miller - whose name was David - was never a greedy man. He was not a gambler, or a cheat, and was quite generous to whomever he saw was in need. He only wished to make enough to provide for his wife and his daughter Melinda. Sadly, recent times even made the simple miller realize that he didn't make enough to do just that.
He began to think these things as he began to chop down a tree, the loud hacking sound breaking the silence that marked the woods and sent the few birds living in the tree scattering away in fear.
It was less than a moment later that the gnarled voice of a man reached David's ears, hissing out from chafed lips as if like a curse.
"Why do you bother exerting yourself so? If you only give me what's behind your cottage, I'll give you riches beyond your most fantastic dreams."
The miller paused abruptly from his chopping and left the axe lodged in the tree with great surprise, whirling to see who it was that had spoke.
The old man was a hunched figure, leaning on the support of a gnarled cane to support his own equally gnarled body. His face was so withered it seemed the very skin was hanging with little support from his bones, his milk white hair that topped his head thin and sparse. He wore a faded blue robe that hung from his emaciated body as in the manner that his skin hung from his bones, and as the miller stared in shock the old man stroked the cane with bony fingers that had too long nails.
The miller let out an audible gasp, then swallowed, realizing this had to be some kind of sorcerer - after all, he would have surely noticed if someone had followed him out there. Coming to that conclusion, he then realized that indeed this old man would follow well on his word - and he owned nothing behind his cottage, not even a shack- all that was back there was a simple apple tree.
Knowing that, he said: "Alright. You may have it."
The strange old man grinned with malice, and replied, "Then await me in three years hence. I'll come to claim what you have so generously gave me."
With that being said, the strange old man disappeared as in into thin air. The miller rubbed the back of his head, bewildered, thinking to himself that the old man was most indeed a sorcerer. But what, he asked himself, would he ever want with a simple old apple tree?
Leaving the axe lodged into the tree, the miller found himself running the rest of the distance home.

"Gretchen, Gretchen," he called for his wife. "You'll never believe.."
"David!" The woman replied shrilly, as if in a panic. "Gold is pouring out of every drawer and shelf in the house! No one has delivered it, and it will not stop! What.." She paused, staring at her excited husband, and after a moment composed herself and rephrased her question. "What has happened to cause this?"
"I met a strange old man in the woods," David replied ecstatically, "And he promised to give us this gold that you speak of in exchange for the apple tree!"
"The apple tree?" Gretchen asked, puzzled. "That's all he wanted?"
"Yes," David replied. "He promised to grant us riches in exchange for what stands behind our cottage. What else could that be, but the apple tree?"
Gretchen paled. She turned away in sudden disgust at the ignorance of her husband, something that she quickly chided herself for despite the circumstances.
"Despite what has happened," Gretchen said after a moment, her voice shaken, "I forgive you. There's no way you could've known.."
"What?" David replied dumbly. "What don't I know?"
"That sorcerer of a man didn't want our apple tree!" Gretchen screamed, clenched her hands into fists as unbidden tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "He meant our daughter who's been sweeping out back all afternoon!"
David stumbled backwards in shock at this revelation, his breath gone erratic.

All that he could think were those fated words burned into his mind, those words the sorcerer had said before he had departed.

"Then await me in three years hence. . I'll come to claim what you have so generously gave me."