"So power is choice?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It is so much more than that..." he added, shaking his head. Mortals had such an odd way of looking at the world. Then again, Vreth wasn't even sure if the being before him was mortal or not. He had no idea. He certainly wasn't normal, but he didn't know what he was. In fact, he barely knew what normal was. His world was ever changing.
Vreth's fingers grew further and deeper into the ground, until shoots of grass started to sprout, small flowers weaving themselves through the growing green blades. From the centre point outwards, the grass grew pushing aside the old for the new. Small trees cracked under the pressure and shattered, the earth consuming the broken pieces, rotting them away so quickly it could be seen with the naked eye. Vreth himself had phased out, his focus entirely on what he was doing.
Beside Thomas, a long stemmed deep, dark red rose, grew out of the ground and unfurled, stopping just below the other mans head height when he was sitting. More roses started to appear all around, wild lavender, bushes, daisies, lilies, lemongrass and orchids. Elm and oak replaced the old fake trees and willow too. But right behind Vreth, that is where the oddest tree had started to grow. It wasn't quite Dragon blood tree nor Angel oak but something in between with the leaves of one of those ever autumn maple trees.