Once upon a time, there lived a miserable kingdom.

     The citizens of said kingdom were weighed down with laborious tasks and poor pay. Men were engaged in hours of manual labor. Women and children alike were often occupied with the same ridiculous workloads. Everyone was constantly working, with little breaks to spare. Because of the unbalanced economy, with the low class being treated like shit, many were drained and sucked dry of life. No one knew how to live anymore, let alone smile. Even the sky was distraught, its bleak ash-tainted clouds always lingering in the gloomy ambiance.

     The tyrant responsible for this devastation let out a smooth chuckle. As she swirled something blood red in her wine glass, she leaned forward against the wooden railing of her castle's balcony, admiring her kingdom with a fat smirk. Ever since the passing of her parents many years before, Queen Giselle had taken to supervising the lands she inherited under tight leadership. To her, production bustled under merciless conditions, and that was all that mattered.

     Everything was fantastic.

     However, as she reflected on her late-night thoughts, a familiar conflict arose in the back of her mind, one that had been surfacing for quite some time. As of now, she would be forty-eight in a week. She couldn't deny it any longer, she was old now.

     With age came retirement.

     And as the possibility of retirement drew close and real every year, a wave of dread floated in the depths of her black heart. Someone would need to operate the throne after her, but she was too selfish to grasp that fact. After reflecting back on her intoxicated thoughts, she made her decision. A rash decision, but still a decision nonetheless.

     "You!" Giselle called out, while in the middle of descending a spiral of stone stairs. Her head peaked out through the banister, the dark shoulder-length locks mingling with silver hairs. She aimed a sharp finger at a servant a level below her. "Prepare my carriage. I must reach my destination quick."

     The servant dipped his head down. "Yes, Your Majesty. Where shall you like to go?"

     "The Wicked Woods."

*~*~* 

The Wicked Woods was an untouched territory shrouded in nasty stories, but said stories weren't enough to ward a drunk Giselle away.

     Legend has it that a mighty wizard who was capable of devising miracles resided within the Wicked Woods. He lived inside a modest cottage, the only cottage located within thick areas of impenetrable vegetation. Rumors have claimed that the wizard would grant any wish, no matter how absurd or sinister, with a price. As the queen of an entire kingdom, Giselle practically bathed in gold. She would have enough to fulfill whatever requirements the price would hold. She would even give away her heart - not that she had much of one anyway.

     "Stop," Giselle commanded, her voice firm and snappy. In an instance, the carriage came to an abrupt halt in the middle of a rocky and unpaved road. With the assistance of the carriage coach, she stepped out into the forbidding wilderness.

     She had ordered the carriage coach to let her go out alone before traveling to her rumored destination. A knife was stashed in a secret compartment inside her jacket, just in case. All she needed to do was heed the rumors circling the wizard's location. If she couldn't find it, she would turn back. Her sense of direction never failed to be keen. While strutting with her chin tilted up, one of her her heeled boots sank into a mud puddle. She grimaced, clicking her tongue out of distaste. Her new shoes would have to pay the price of coming here.

     Something bright flickered in the looming mass of fog. An orb of light shimmered like a star, perhaps it was the source of a house lantern. Squinting, she dived into the unknown and continued from there, following after the star that beckoned her. When her surroundings came into view, Giselle closed in near the entrance of a white cottage that had been camouflaged in clouds of fog. The cottage was round and oval-like in size, resembling the shape of a plump pumpkin. With her gloved fingers tucked inside her hand, she rapped on the door in consecutive order, with three firm knocks.

     Slowly, the door groaned open, revealing a handsome teenager, much to Giselle's surprise. Her expectations of the wizard were crushed, if he was even the wizard at all. Tch. She must be in the wrong place.

     A thin eyebrow arched up as she pinned him with a dubious look. "Who are you?"

     "Why, I should be asking you that, Your Majesty." He smiled. "It is quite a delight to find you, the ruler of this beloved kingdom, here in front of my humble residence. I am the all-knowing wizard named Jerald B. Franklin." He performed a bow after widening the gap of the door. With a flourish of an arm, he welcomed Giselle inside. The door clicked shut behind her.

     "I didn't expect for you to look," Giselle paused to spare a glance over Jerald's youthful face and peasant-like attire, "like this."

     "No one does." Jerald's smile faded from his face. He guided her downstairs, presumably into more foreign territory. Upon entering a dim basement, Giselle's features soured when detecting a hideous odor in the air.

     She pinched her nose. "What is that smell?"

     "A concoction I've been working on." Jerald rushed over to a cauldron foaming out purple suds. He sealed the steamy opening of the cauldron shut with a lid.

     While he was doing that, Giselle took the chance to scan her environment. A row of shelves occupied the walls, exhibiting jars containing wacky objects. Some jars kept regular belongings, such as a ring or a glove. Others kept more uncanny items, like a lock of golden hair or mysterious green blobs. Her face wrinkled in disgust when she recognized a deceased salamander inside one of the many jars.

     "You remind me of a witch I used to know," she remarked, after soaking in the basement.

     "Isn't that what all wizards are? Male versions of witches?" Jerald brought his hands together in a sharp clap. "So, how can I help you?"

     "Don't you require payment in order to ask of that?"

     "Why yes, yes I do. You have already come to know me so well."

     "I have all the wealth you could ever desire."

     "I don't want your money." Jerald pointed at the top of her head. "I want your pretty little tiara. I'll need it for a deal with another person."

     "Take it," Giselle said, an automatic reply. She couldn't care less for the accessory that labeled her as queen of the kingdom, her presence alone already did that. With her riches, she could always have another one custom-made and designed.

     "Thank you." He swiped the tiara from her head. He cradled it with his hands, inspecting it in all areas. After a through examination, he shifted his attention back on Giselle. "Now, let's get to business. What is it that you would like for me to grant you?" He set the tiara down on a stool. "Would you like to assassinate someone? Get revenge? Bring a loved one back from the dead?" He spoke of all the suggestions nonchalantly, as though they were daily requests that he had received during his lifetime.

     "I want immortality," Giselle declared, her amber eyes hardened. "I want to live for all of eternity." If she was granted with the possibility of forever, she could rule her kingdom for as long as she lived.

     "I shall accept that request, Your Majesty." Grinning, he advanced a step forward, his right hand emitting a pale blue glow. "Without further ado, let us commence a life-changing spell. I shall transform your body and grant you with your desired power."

     Suspicion came into play, causing her to hesitate. "Is my tiara all that you truly want? This isn't what I would call a fair deal."

     "Oh, but we never had to make the deal fair in the first place. Magic comes with a price, and the tiara is a price I want from you." Jerald smashed his hands together. Visible sparks of electricity coursed through his fingertips, traveling up his arms. Strands of shaggy blond hair stood on all ends. "Shall we begin?"

     Giselle didn't need to say anything. She spread her arms out, bracing for the impact.

     Jerald intertwined his fingers together, his hands consumed by a pale blue light. With both arms directed toward the queen, he mumbled a sequence of inaudible chants hidden in his breath. The orb of light grew in mass, developing into a sphere. He rocked his hind legs back, snapped his head up, and fired. A blurred beam of light launched from his fingers and penetrated into Giselle's chest, impaling her like a sword.

     Then, she was gone in a wisp of smoke.

     Moments later, a combustion occurred in the spot where Giselle had stood. She reemerged from a fiery explosion in a new form. Her body was light against gravity. She soared in the air with a pair of flaming wings. Fire decorated her body like a dress, only tingling her feathers with fuzzy warmth. She was a magnificent bird, a bird of stunning glory.

     The revelation of her new identity baffled her.

     Then, during that split second of bewilderment, a force shoved her inside of a metal prison.

     Jerald held up the cage he had used to contain Giselle in. A grin split his freckled face. "You're officially immortal now, Your Majesty."

     "You deceived me!" Giselle exclaimed, her human vocal cords still present within her bird body. She leaped to her orange talons. Her body erupted like a volcano. An enraged scream was unleashed from her as she threw herself against the bars of the cage.

     Smash.

     Dazed with pain, she staggered back.

     "I didn't lie to you. I never lie when I make my deals." Jerald hung the cage on a hook protruding out from a shelf. "You are a phoenix bird. A phoenix bird is known for its regeneration abilities. It's capable of being been reborn over and over again for thousands of years, it's a perfect embodiment of the immortality you wish to gain. You never said what you wanted to look like if I had granted your request, so here you are now." Closing his gigantic face near her, a cackle clogged his throat. "You are never to be human again. That is your price for immortality."

     "Treacherous fool! I will burn you! I will burn your face off!" A string of venomous curses grated her throat. She flapped her wings, captured by frenzied rage.

     "I'm the fool?" Jerald cracked up at that. "I'm not the fool, you're the fool." A sinister gleam glazed his eyes. "I hope you get used to being here, Your Majesty. You're going to be my new pet from now on."