Awakening with a start, the young apprentice retched as he breathed in the black smoke that filled his circular home in the eastern tower. He didn't need to hear the bellowing roar of the dragon to understand they were under attack, but the sound did fill his veins with ice. Immediately understanding the dire implications, not just for him but for the entire kingdom. Emrys' eyes shot toward the stairs leading up to his master's, the court wizard's, study.
The wood of the stairs were already cracking ominously as the flames approached and surrounded it. A an aged voice cut through the crackling. “ –rys! Emyrs! Find King Rhys and... help him,” his master descended into a coughing fit, “...curses! Go! I'll find my own way out!”
The young man reflexively nodded. Trained to obediently follow the wizened old woman's commands above all else had been ingrained into Emyrs since the day of being placed in her care. With a heavy heart he turned and begun navigating his way through the falling debris and sparking fires as he descended the circular staircase. The white shirt and underwear he wore when slept were covered in soot and grime with countless small cuts and frayed edges by the time he emerged from the tower.
Outside confusion still reigned with panicked shouting mingled with attempts at trying to get the situation, and the fires, under control. For Emyrs, only the red-scaled monster blotting out the sun and casting a long shadow as it flew toward the battlements outside the throne room concerned him. His heart skipped a beat as he made out the shapes of the king and his knights standing there in their shiny armor reflecting the rays of the morning sun!
Emyrs continued to run in the hopes of fulfilling his master's command, weaving through the confused servants, the grand archways, and gold inlaid corridors. And doing his best to ignore the tower collapsing behind him.
Castle Aurvale was immense, claiming the entirety of the mountainous island where it had been built on and overlooked the capital city. With its white walls and stained glass windows, and with an interior equal in opulence, the Lion Throne was the glittering jewel of Ambria. But today the castle's impressive size worked against Emrys as he was too late to save the king, or the kingdom, from the Witch Ceridwen's spell.
The young wizard's clothes changed first. The dirt faded away, but so did the thread of his shirt until the silk was partially see-through before darkening to black with purple edges and highlights. The cloth split midway, parting past his now fully exposed bellybutton until reaching just below his chest. As did the arms until they were little more than straps connected to a thin choker that encircled his delicate and slender neck. The sheer negligee did little to cover the leather harness that encircled the slightest rise of his blossoming breasts like a cupless bra.
Below, a bulge made its presence known as it pressed against a set of lace panties. The naughty underwear followed the same black and purple color scheme. The apprentice's scrotum had shrunken until it had only became a slight bump, but its size hadn't been wasted: Emry's cock seemed to have grown a few inches.
After years of living on the streets, malnourished and weak, Emrys had always been on the smaller side, with the eighteen year-old women that were his age often as tall or taller than him. But as the wave of magic continued to change him, he seemed to shrink further, becoming more delicate. It spread to his softening facial features, full and pouty lips, and adorable nose. Only his flaring hips and ass seemed to spared. While the young wizard's large, almond-shaped blue eyes was further emphasized by the appearance of dark kohl mascara and fluttering eyelashes, and added a sinful edge to his otherwise vulnerable and fragile appearance.
An agonized, high-pitched feminine moan escaped the now femboy's lips. The wizard leaned against one of the walls, clutching his aching head. Spells his master hadn't taught him suddenly rose to the surface. As Emrys forgot how to cast lightning from his finger tips, he learned enchantments capable binding the weak-willed to him, to emulate the prowess of incubi and succubi in the bedroom, or creating enticing illusions real enough to fool the senses, and more. His magic became that of subtle manipulations and grace, not crude destruction.
But his mission to protect King Rhys given to him by his master remained. Emyrs pushed through, summoning what he could of his mana to hold back the tide of mental changes of the Witch's sorcery. He was in one of the hallways leading to the throne room parapets. All he needed were a few more steps. He could do this.
Emrys didn't know how long it took, but eventually he reached the door. As he pushed it open, the attention of both the feminized king and amazonian Witch turned to him.
“Ah, it seems the welp of that Court Hag has come to save you prince.”
“E-em-emrys?” Looking over his former knights, Rhys' disbelief couldn't hide the hint of hope that crept into his voice once he recognized the transformed apprentice. “...why do you look like a...” In truth, Emrys also had difficulty believing the golden-haired femboy was his King too. Or that it was even possible to be as beautiful and radiant as him. The fallen War Crown at the King's feet seemed to confirm it, however.
“Emrys? So that is your name, welp? Say, once you've stopped drooling over the prince, why don't you listen to a proposition?”
The young apprentice forced Rhys' spellbinding appearance out of his mind. He didn't know what magic he had that he could use here, but Emrys raised his fists anyway. Ready to leap to the aid of his king, even if it was ultimately a futile gesture. He had a hard look in his eyes, which Queen Ceridwen pointedly ignored.
“And here I was ready to offer you the title of Court Witch. I doubt your master, if the hag survived, would be much use in her former role currently. No perhaps,” the smiling Witch took a few steps forward and placed her gauntleted hands on Rhys' slender shoulders. The former king seemed ready to jump out of his skin at the touch, “you want something more. Like a night with my nephew? I'll even look away should he wish to steal away in the night after you've taken his ass's virginity. I'm sure one our cousins in the neighboring kingdoms will take him in.”
Ceridwen reached down, grabbing hold of his dress. It easily tore away, leaving a yelping Rhys half-naked and shuddering as the winds again picked up, tossing around his golden spun hair.
Emrys bit his lips, trying to contain the groan of pure desire stuck in his throat at the sight. The confidence of her statement left him little doubt she'd keep her word. And once away from her influence, perhaps Rhys could organize a resistance, seek help from the neighbors, or do something else that could end her reign. Emrys also had to admit he was attracted to him in ways he hadn't been before. Ceridwen, too, seeing images of himself curling up against her muscular arms, despite of who she was and who he might soon serve if he accepted.
In exchange for the former king's safety.
His fingers turned white as he tightened his fists. Emrys knew he had a choice to make.