Prologue: A Most Unsavory Origin

The Black Witch's Hut, The Edge of The Black Forest, The Kanardi Wilds...

Blankets of thick swirling clouds of gray blackened the sky over the looming accused woods as the barely held-together hut belonging to an infamous and long-feared old witch of the distant wild had been battered by wind and rain respectively. The old wood swayed and creaked amid the gush of wind and the rattling of leaves as a downpour had begun to soak the black and sickly land where the hut had been built and not but a brave or lost soul ventured into the midst of the foul loathsome being that inhabited this place of ruin and regret.

One such soul, a pure one in a traveling young knight had been the brave and worthy young lad known as Knight Trevils. He'd been turned about in the storm and thrown from his black steed when a violent burst of lightning spooked the poor horse after crashing into a nearby tree and causing it to burst into a heated open flame. The brave young knight slipped from the back of his terrified horse and fell to the ground amid the mud and muck as rain poured into his vision and he stumbled about the fallen logs and the black trees before him hopelessly lost and in need of food and a warm place of shelter.

The young knight Trevils had been a handsome young lad tall and fair-complected with bright blue eyes and unkempt dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard that covered his lower jaw and top lip. He had been a marvelous sight all things considered and had been quite the virtuous lad never once indulging in drink or vice of any kind. He had never laid with whores nor any woman for that matter, a young lad with a good heart who'd been as pure as the driven snow was a rare commodity.

The glowing vile green eyes of the resident black witch of these parts had taken special notice of the handsome young knight lost and out of his element amid the violent storm that left him stranded in her neck of the deep woods. His shiny silver boots compressing the black grass just outside her hut had gotten her attention in the worst way and like a cobra ready to strike, she pounced shifting herself into a black mist and causing the lad to collapse and blackout from her efforts.

When he awoke he'd been stripped bare, his young cock and pale arse exposed while he'd been strapped to her makeshift bed made of old stones and wood. He had been panicked but steeled himself in the wake of noting the various containers of ingredients, the stoked blazing fire, and the bubbling cast iron cauldron amid logs splintered by way of an open flame.

He struggled as she ran her grotesque pale hand along his well-toned abs and chest delighting in such a fine catch in her latest ploy and before he could offer a means of protest she shoved a vial with an oddly swirling dark green liquid into his face forcing him to inhale its vile stench before noticing his cock had become erect as if it had a mind of its own.

His valiant attempts to keep her at bay and his virtue intact had been amusing to the hag, to say the least. He dreaded what she had in mind as she stripped off her tattered dirty black robes and stepped forth with a wrinkled pale body and sagging breasts with dark nipples. She smirked as she straddled him, the poor lad bound and unable to keep it from happening as she slowly began to siphon his virtue impaling his wayward cock into her surprisingly cold depths.

As the storm raged so had the inflamed passion of the horrid witch as she rode the poor formerly virtuous knight well through the worst of the violent tempest against his will he moaned as his young body responded to the unwanted stimulation and the black witch howled and cackled in his young ears making him sick with himself and with her as the night seemed to drag on with him bound and at her mercy.

In the wake of the storm, she had kept him bound for an uncertain number of days as she rode him at her leisure seeking only pleasure from his young body and leaving him in only pain as she took her fill of his vigorous potent seed. He couldn't hold back nor could he fight her off as she used him for her vile will and seemed to have every contempt for him despite her use of his bewitched cock to fill her cold void.

Many moons passed before he was able to make sense of the violent haze of her riding him and the glimpse of a small bump in her aged belly despite his many attempts at trying to get free of her and her sickness. He had been nearly defeated internally before she rode him one last time and then released his bonds sending him fleeing into the wilderness in the dead of night and trying his best to get as far from her cold cunt and eerie eyes as possible before she had been of the mind to bind him in her horrid hut again and ride him until he died.

The cackle of the horrid black witch still lingered in the poor lad's ears as she stood amid the flames of her fireplace pleased with herself and the results of her horrendous labors in successfully becoming impregnated by the lost virtuous knight who had stumbled into her woods in the dead of night brought in by way of a violent storm.

Many more moons had passed before she horrid hag dressed in black had given birth to the seed left behind by the knight, a tiny pale boy with raven hair like hers and kind blue eyes like that of his brave and distinguished mortal father.

She had been greatly disappointed that it had not been a daughter, one she could have passed down her direct knowledge to but she looked down at her pale bundle of misery and made it a point to pass on her vast wealth of dark knowledge to him despite her disappointment in him being born male. She sought to make him like her and feared among all the world.

But first, she had named her pale bundle of misery while stroking his raven locks and peering into his bright blue eyes.

"I shall call you, Sceledrus," she said to the seemingly terrified child. "Sceledrus Latimer Ugorio Trevils."

An eerie yellow-toothed smile spread across her aged ugly face as she cackled at the malice behind her choice of name.

He'd been a Trevils after all, but the bastard of the noble knight she had held captive by all accounts.