Magic was thick in the air. Nearly suffocating even the man that was causing the energies to crackle fiercely. A circle drawn three times in different materials surrounded an apple tree that had been sitting in the man's courtyard for several decades. It was a convenient test subject if nothing else.

Ancient runes shimmered through the air as the conjuror muttered continuously, urging the magic to do his bidding. Slowly he heard a cracking noise, like parchment being balled up. His cold black eyes flickered with excitement as his spell continued to take hold. His muttering became faster and more insistent as the bark of the apple tree started flaking off.

A creaking groan filled the air and the tree's limbs moved despite the lack of wind. The conjuror smirked triumphantly as he saw the tree continue to slowly get crushed down into another shape.

The squirrel that had made it's home in the tree chattered angrily from the castle wall but the conjuror ignored it. More creaking groans filled the air as the leaves and apple blossoms started falling from its now twisted branches.

The branches split into two sections before pulling apart, ripping the trunk in two. An ear-piercing shriek filled the air as the tree split apart. Still the conjuror muttered and urged the magic to do its work.

The apple tree continued to be compressed and crushed until a man was standing in its place limbs frozen in a painfully contorted position. The conjuror stopped muttering and the man collapsed to the ground, gasping in pain and horror. The conjuror waited for the runes to full dissipate before crossing the circle to the man's side.

He was a stunning creature, well muscled but still lithe and slender. He gave a spasm every time he gasped; not yet used to breathing in such a way. His hair was a dark green, like the leaves of the tree he had been but moments before. His olive skin had faint whorls and swirls like bark. But it was his eyes that caught the conjuror's attention. They were golden with just the faintest hint of green around his pupils. The conjuror smiled; the tree had always produced the sweetest yellow apples.

"Hello there." The conjuror said reaching down to stroke the once-tree's face. The man's eyes darted over instantly, wide with fear and pain at the transformation he'd just underwent. "My name is Welith. But you will call me Master. Do you understand?"

The green-haired man gave a shaky nod. His entire body was trembling and he didn't know why. He didn't know what was going on. It was like he was in a nightmare. He had liked being a tree.

"Good." Welith said brushing a strand of dark green away from his creation's face with what could be misconstrued as tenderness. "Now, a name for you…" Welith tilted his head in thought. "Afal. That will be your name."

"A-afal?" The other repeated shakily.

Welith smiled again. "Yes. Afal is your name now. Unless you would prefer to be called Tree or something equally unimaginative." Afal gaped slightly in confusion. This was all simply happening too fast. Every cell of his body was sore and throbbing and he just wanted to go back to how he had been a few moments ago.

Welith grabbed Afal's jaw tightly before leaning down and kissing his creation. Afal was stunned into stillness. What on earth is going on? Welith pressed closer, almost bruising Afal's lips with the pure force of his mouth. With a slight sound of annoyance Welith pressed tightly against the bottom of Afal's jaw, forcing the other to open his mouth.

Welith took instant advantage and thrust his tongue past Afal's soft lips. Afal gasped slightly at the feeling of Welith's tongue. Welith kept his eyes open to watch the emotions flicker through those golden eyes. First confusion, then realization, followed by the tinge of fear. Welith smirked as he pulled away.

His hand was still wrapped around Afal's jaw possessively. "You taste like apples." He informed as he licked the last bit of taste from his lips. "Do you know why I created you Afal?"


"No what?" Welith asked squeezing Afal's jaw tightly.

"Master!" Afal quickly said as his hands flew up to try and pry at the fingers digging into his flesh.

Welith relaxed his grip slightly. "I made you because I could. Now, you are mine. You belong solely to me to do with as I wish. Do you understand, Afal?" Afal gave a shaky nod. "Very good."

Afal shuddered slightly as his new Master ran his eyes over every inch of this strange new body. Welith's eyebrow rose and his lips quirked up in a smirk. Welith slowly brought his eyes back up to Afal's own. Afal's eyes widened at the strange look that Welith had on his face. He didn't like it.

"For a tree, you are quite the handsome little thing. Did you know that?" Welith asked eyes boring into Afal's.

Afal shook his head but didn't dare let his eyes venture from Welith's cold black ones. There was something about this man that scared Afal. Like a knife that would carve into his bark with no mercy because they didn't think he could feel it. That was Welith. Only the conjuror knew perfectly well that he could feel yet did so anyway.

Welith moved to straddle Afal's prone form. "It's true." Welith said leaning closer to his creation's face. "I always do the best work. And your form is simply flawless. I wonder if all of you tastes as sweet as your mouth does."

The conjuror leaned closer still until they were just a hairsbreadth away from each other. "I do hope so." He whispered against Afal's chin. He dragged his tongue up Afal's chin until he was breathing into Afal's ear. "I always did love eating your apples, Afal. The sweetest and juiciest in the garden."

Afal closed his eyes as his whole body trembled in fear. How had this happened? What had he done to ever deserve this?