A Changed Place

Aaralon didn’t bother to dress before following the Thrall out of his bedchambers. The only Thralls that did wear clothing where those that had to work in the kitchen or deal with outsiders. All the other Thralls went nude or with as little clothing as they could.

As they walked down the hallway they passed a pair of the female Thralls and Aaralon took them in with open pleasure. Both of them had been with the group of students from the other magical school. It was hard to think that that had been nearly a month ago and it was even harder to believe when he took it their swollen bellies.

Both of them looked to be at least six months pregnant and they were far from the only female Thralls who were that far along. A tiny part of Aaralon was disturbed by the sight of them, that tiny part that was still truly his wondered just what was growing inside of them.

His train of thought was derailed however as they came out of the building and into one of the courtyards. This was where the students had brought the Librarian to enact **** on him and his body had lain there for several days before Aaralon got sick of the site of it and ordered it burnt.

It wasn’t the memory of that that had made him stop though, it was the tree in the center of the courtyard.

It was an old and twisted thing and it had been, he had assumed, quite dead for many decades. In the years he had been a student he had never seen it once grow a leaf or really do anything but take up space.

So he was amazed when he looked up to see a thick canopy of leaves. Each of them a deep crimson. The tree itself seemed as dead as ever and yet here was this strange growth of leaves. He was sure it hadn’t been like this the night before but then when he had come through here he had had his fingers buried in the cunt of Robin.

As he looked at the leaves a gust of wind sent the branches swaying, a few of the leaves broke away from there branches. Aaralon reaches up, snatching one of them out of them, as he closed his fist around it felt strange, wet?

Opening his fist he saw that the leaf had seemed to melt into a dark red fluid. Even without smelling it Aaralon thought he knew what it would be but he couldn’t stop himself. He sniffed the fluid, the metallic tang of fresh blood strong in his nose.

“What the devil?” Aaralon muttered under his breath as he looked at the stain on his fingers. The blood already starting to dry and crumble on his hand.

He looked at the tree again and somehow it seemed more malevolent than before. He felt almost as if, something, was watching him from just behind the dead wood of the tree. Something that was hungry.

He shivered and walked briskly away, resolving to ask his Master about the tree.