On a sunny day where the grass bristles with a freezing wind and the rays reel anyone in need, you stumble upon the first tree in all the valley.   The shadow it casts is colossal, engulfing below in black like a sun of darkness. The fruit it grows is unknown to you, but after examining it for a minute and discerning if it is authentically a trap, a succulent peach rolls to the floor; calling you in.   The tree's saccharinity is not the strangest part yet, but its color; red leaves rimmed with a faint gold sit atop its massive crown.   Eventually the fatigue of having wandered for so long tugs at your feet, aiming for a simple nap. Just that, a swift, relaxing slumber. Your back reposes against the trunk. The landscape accompanies you like a dream; already so far out of reach, it looks unauthentic.   And finally, respite.  

  It's when you arouse that you hear the rustle of leaves. Gradual, yet constant.   It was obvious, the shadow cast looked a little too good, and the grass too soft. And that comforting, excruciating warmth shouldn't have been there in the first place at all.   Something brushes against your nape. Oh for the love of... since when did beasts share your same idea of leisure? A turn of the head fills in the gaps in your suspicion.   Red scales, the long body of a serpent, slithers and passes through every single crevice of the tree's branches. The thinner ones look strung, as if on the verge of collapsing, yet something tells you they're acclimated to it. This creature has been here long afore you.   It's not the intimidating size of the tail that shakes the remainings of your dreams from your vision, or the fact that it seems to be talking to you. Your eyes dart to the opposite end of its tail, finding what seems to be the upper body of a red-haired man affixed to it.   "–hath utilized mine own tree to seek its shadow?"   As if the sirens had messed around in the dirt and now this emerged from the deed, his thin lips pursue in a frown, pale bony cheeks lit by a glowering golden eye.