Rhys had only made it a few steps before he faltered. Something was wrong. His sword and armor were heavier than they should have been.
It took mere seconds for the weight to become unbearable, and he fell to his knees, his sword falling at his side. "Wh... what's happening?"
He watched as his mail and surcoat began to wither away, leaving him in nothing but his linen shirt. He should have been able to stand, but his attention was transfixed by his hands and arms. They were shrinking. Growing frail, delicate. His body hair receded, leaving his skin as smooth as a child's.
He looked up, and watched in horror as the world seemed to grow bigger around him. Ceridwen seemed so much taller than before - and stronger, too. As she chanted the spell, her black gown twisted in a strange wind, slowly becoming tighter, less billowing.
Rhys's vision was suddenly cut off as long blond hair cascaded over his face and the War Crown fell from his head. He quickly brushed it aside, only to see his tunic and braies fuse into a single garment. The legs of his braies fused together, and the material turned from light brown linen to pink silk with a fringe of white lace, leaving him in a beautiful sleeveless gown. His gauntlets were transformed into long, white silk gloves, his leather hunting boots into towering heels.
At last, the chanting ceased, and the changes stopped. Rhys immediately grabbed his sword and rose unsteadily to his feet.
Ceridwen had changed almost as much as he had. His aunt now wore armor of her own, covered in a black surcoat. Her hair had receded - she now had short-cropped black hair, greying at the temples. And she was enormous, with rippling muscles.
"Now, now," the witch said, "there's no need for violence."
Rhys shouted a war cry and charged at Ceridwen, but the witch effortlessly grabbed his sword arm and twisted it until the blade fell to the top of the castle wall. "It's pointless," she said, "all your martial skills are gone, now."
"What... what did you..."
"What did I do?" Ceridwen laughed. "Like I told you, I've remade this kingdom. It's become a land of beautiful, delicate boys like you, and powerful warrior women like me. Well, and a few extra adjustments, here and there, where I thought it would be amusing."
Slowly, Rhys turned his head to look back at his companions. He was horrified to see all of them changed in the same way he himself had been, reduced to the same pathetic, humiliating form, their armor transformed into beautiful dresses.
"Don't worry," Ceridwen said, "You'll all soon grow accustomed to your new lives. Welcome to MY kingdom, Prince Rhys."