The door to the tavern opened, wind blowing in, bringing snow in as well. A person walked in, wrapped in a white and black spotted cloak. A belt hung loosely at his waist, knives tied tightly to it. A bow was slung over his shoulder, a dozen feathered arrows next to it. He looked around the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. His heavy looking boots took a wary step forward, walking toward the bar. He stopped, walked again, stopped. This happened until he reached his destination. In a low voice, he said something to the barman. The barman, known as Ceecee, nodded glumly and filled a wooden mug with a deep brown liquid. The stranger nodded his assent and reached for the mug. He walked over to a empty table, slammed his drink down, liquid pouring over the edges, and sat down with a loud grunt.

Everyone around the room stared at this stranger, their eyes bulging out, for they know what these strange men bring. Whenever a cloaked man walks in, his face hidden in the shadows of his cloak, he always brings trouble. He hides away, kills strange men, drinks until he can drink no more. People have never seen the faces of these men before. Never.


But what they didn't know is that this stranger is like no stranger they have ever seen before. Those strangers were just simply men trying too hard to be frightening. This stranger was trained. Trained so hard, for years, until there was nothing more to be taught. He was a beginner at the age of only ten. People truly fear this man, for there is nothing more frightening than a true warrior.

But this stranger is no warrior. No, he is something much better, much more frightening. He is immortal, trained by the elves. He is an Enchanter, someone who holds such beauty it enhances mortals. Someone, with just one single word, can have the world wrapped around his finger. Enchanters must be trained carefully, taught how to tame their strength. Their powers. Their beauty.

But, of course, there are bad and good Enchanters.

This particular Enchanter, sitting in a crooked chair, cracking nuts with his teeth, goes by the name of Jezebel. Her beauty cannot be overpowered, not by any other Enchanter. She is special. Rare. Her pale, smooth skin, glows under her dark, silky hair. Her eyes shine bright, eyelashes long and perfect. Everything about her is perfect.

The night grew later, people walking in and out of the tavern. But Jezebel stayed in her small corner through the whole night, her head snapping up whenever someone would walk in. As soon as it turned midnight, she walked over to Ceecee, ordering a small room to stay in for a week. Ceecee had no likings for this stranger, but he desperately needed the money. She handed him a leather pouch, the sound of coins coming from within. "Extra to tell me if a man walks in, asking for a woman by the name of Alice. Direct him up to my room. I'm Alice."

Ceecee poured the coins into his palm, counting them all frantically. He counted twenty-nine, and still, there were more. He nodded rapidly and hid the pouch behind his bar. Jezebel walked up the stairs wearily and walked into room thirteen. It had a small bed with a red blanket, a worn out chair, a desk with a stiff chair, and a chest with leather straps keeping it closed. She laid down her small bag onto the chest, and flung her weapons onto her bed. Pulling off her boots, she fell onto the worn out chair. Her head sunk onto her chest and her eyes slowly closed shut.

The knock on the door awakened Jezebel and she walked toward the door, quickly grabbing her knife. The chain lock had never been shut, it hung there loosely, swinging in the wind from her opened window. She pulled it tightly shut and opened the door, revealing only one of her eyes. Outside in the dark hall was a man, wearing similar clothing as Jezebel, but had no bow. Instead he wore a sword at his waist, which fell down to his knee high boots. "Jezebel?" The man asked, confused. "The man told me Alice was in this room. Where is she?" He pulled out his sword and pointed it at Jezebel's stomach.

"Please, Darius, let me explain," Jezebel said weakly, holding in her stomach. "I have so much to tell you." Darius shook his face violently, forcing his black hair to fall into his eyes.

"No Jezebel. You have ruined so much in my life, taken all I have. I need no more of your lies." He spit the last word out, his dark eyes glaring into Jezebel. "I have no more need for you. I should just kill you now."

"Please Darius. Just listen to me. I have changed so much. You would never believe what has happened to me. And to Alice." She let the last sentence hang, saying it slowly, savoring the affect it had on Darius.

"What have you done to her?" Darius shoved his sword back into its sheath and pushed gently on the door. "Let me in."

Jezebel opened the door and let Darius walk in, distaste coloring his face. He searched the room, his eyes taking in the sight of the open window. The wind tenderly blew on their bodies, making their hair fly. Darius's tongue licked his lips, his eyes finally settling down on the worn chair. "She's not here."

"Very good, Darius. I am glad you have figured that one out on your own," Jezebel said in a mocking tone. "Your mother must be very proud of you." Her voice was sugar sweet, all hatred for Darius hidden inside it.

"My mother is dead, you fool." He slapped Jezebel across the face and she flew awkwardly across the room, flinging against the chair. Blood seeped into her mouth and her hands started shaking violently. She weakly stood up, her right hand leaning on the chair.

"You do not hit me, brother!" Her left hand started glowing and she held it up to her bleeding mouth. The blood instantly vanished and a white ball fell from her hand. It was like liquid, forming like a ball of water. Jezebel pointed her palm outward and the ball hit against Darius, water falling from his face. "You have no power against me." Her right hand came up to meet her left, and together they, too, formed a ball. But this ball was made of objects, like glass and knives. "I could easily do it, you know. I just have to say the word, just have to force my palm outward, and they would so easily stick into you."

"Then why don't you?" Darius's voice was shaking, unnoticed tears falling from his petrified eyes. "We never were on the right ends. Why don't you hurry up and do us both a favor? Just kill me!"

"No. I need your help to find Alice." Those smooth words brought anguish to Darius's eyes.

"What do you want with my wife?"

"Dear little Darius. Is it not obvious? Only she knows how to get what I want. What I need." Her hands started shaking, the dangerous ball falling from her grasp. "Please help me find her." Her words were broken, her mesmerizing voice shattered. Red veins popped out on her neck and hands.

"What can she possibly have that you, of all people, would want?" Darius shook his head slowly, confused.

"You don't know, do you?" Jezebel laughed, amazed. "She knows how to change people. I want to be able to change. To get away from everyone."

"And I know many people who want you to do that," growled Darius. "But what do you mean, change?"

Jezebel shook her head sadly and sighed. "Like into an animal, brother. Alice knows how to."

"Don't you think that I would know what my wife can, and can't do? She cannot do that, Jezebel! It cannot be done." Darius scratches his chin thoughtfully and said in a small voice, "only witches could. Or wizards." His hand fell to his side and he looked at Jezebel, but his eyes were faraway. "You know something about Alice. Something that I don't know." Jezebel nodded her head frantically. "Tell me now. What do you know?"

"When did you lose Alice, Darius?" The words were few, but they meant a lot. Darius started screaming, kicking and throwing random things. "She is a witch, Darius. She came to me, looking for somewhere to stay. I had no likings for her, but how could I deny her?" Jezebel shook her head slowly at the sad memory. "Her hair was a mess, her eyes gone wild. I thought that you must have done something to her. But I also knew that you never would harm her. So I put two and two together. The answer came. She's a witch, and now king Aragon is after her. I had to help her. So I let her in, and two days later, she was gone. Just like that. Like magic."

"Don't say that word," shouted Darius. "My wife cannot do magic. It's impossible."

"If it's impossible, then you and I are impossible."

"No. "

"She left, because she knew that you wouldn't be happy with her. She thought you would turn her in."

"No," Darius's voice was only a whisper.

"She said it herself. At first I thought that it was just because she is crazy. She's always been crazy. But she wasn't crazy." Jezebel looked down on her brother, through tear filled eyes. "Don't do this to her, brother."

Darius nodded his head. "Okay. I will help you."

"Thank you." Jezebel laid her hands on his shoulders and gently shook him. "Are you alright?"

"No. C'mon, let's go." He quickly ran around the room, putting small belongings into Jezebel's bag. Once he was done, he threw her weapons at her. She grabbed them and threw them over her shoulder. "Where to first, Jezebel?"

"A bar in Latino. It isn't too far from here. We need some information, and they always have it. I already have a plan." She pulled on her cloak and left the room, Darius stepping behind her.

* * *

The horses ran fast through crooked streets. Jezebel came to an abrupt stop, waiting for her brother to reach her. As he pulled to a stop next to her, Jezebel pointed to a bar that looked more like a shack. "There is the bar. I will go in, find what I need, as will you. Are you ready?"

Darius nodded his head. "Here, you'll be needing these." He threw a bundle of clothes into her arms and she caught them with a wicked grin. "Damsel in distress. I've always loved that one. You do play it well, sister." Jezebel jumped off her horse and pulled off her clothes, quickly putting on the fancier ones. She hurriedly put her hair up in a braided bun and turned over to her brother.

"Okay, do it." Darius nodded and jumped off his horse. He walked over to Jezebel and raised his hand, ready for the hit. His hand landed sharply on Jezebel's face, making a red mark. Tears came to Jezebel's eyes, and she quickly rubbed some dirt over her injury. "Thank you, brother."

Darius laughed. "You don't know how long I have wanted to do that."

Jezebel nodded her head. "I do, actually. Well, wish me luck."

"Good luck. You're going to need it." Darius silently laughed and quickly stripped off his own clothes.

Jezebel walked into the bar, tripping over her high heels and tight dress. Men stared at her as she passed, calling out to her in deep, raspy voices. But she kept walking, tears still falling out. She didn't stop walking until she reached the creaking stairs that lead downstairs. By the time she was half way down the stairs she heard the door open and a man call out for someone's name. She hurried down the stairs, running down the hall, and turning into a dark room. A man was in there, locking lips with a women. He quickly looked up at Jezebel and started yelling at her.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry." Her voice cracked and tears spilled into her mouth. "I was looking for someone. He said he would be down here, in this same room."

The man couldn't help falling for this beautiful lady standing in front of him, tears from her eyes falling down her cheeks, a large bruise next to her eye. "What's this man's name?" He asked in a mesmerized voice. "Maybe I know him." The lady that he had been kissing rolled her eyes and left the room, giving Jezebel a dark glance.

"His name is Caleb. Oh please, do you know him? He said he could help." More tears. "He said he could make it better."

"I'm not sure about Caleb, but how's about Nicholas? I'm sure he would be just as.. well, helpful." His eyes are dark, craving this young woman standing before him.

Jezebel nodded and smiled. "If you think he would be able to help."

Nicholas grinned and wrapped his arms around Jezebel. "Oh, I'm sure he would be able to. What do you need, sweetheart?"

"What are you doing? And where is Nicholas?" She threw Nicholas off of her and quickly glanced around the room. "I don't see anyone else."

"I am Nicholas, sweetheart." He leaned forward and planted his lips on her neck. "Is there any certain thing you would like?"

Jezebel grinned and pushed him off again. "Yes, there is, actually." She pulled out a knife from her boot and pointed it at Nicholas. "Tell me where I could find a girl. Her name is Alice Lockhart." Terror filled Nicholas's face. "You know her. Well then, where is she?"

"She left two weeks ago. Went to Mon' Dean, she said."

"Thank you, Nicholas. I won't forget you're generosity." She smiled sweetly and leaned her head towards him, her lips just inches from his face. "Now for the real help." Nicholas grinned once again and pulled Jezebel into his arms. As his lips touched her breasts, a noise from upstairs made them both jump. Men yelling and falling to the ground. Jezebel cursed aloud and ran upstairs, pushing the angry Nicholas off her.

"Come back, darling! You still need that help." Nicholas flung himself at her, forcing her to fall down. He quickly climbed on top of her and started kissing her neck. Jezebel grasped her knife tightly in her hands. She raised it and the blade touched Nicholas's neck. He froze, his eyes widening. "You wouldn't do that. I am helping you, sweetheart." Jezebel gasped as his face fell on her chest, and she quickly pulled the knife through his neck.

"No you're not, you fool," she said to the head rolling on the floor. Blood had spilled onto her bare chest, now running down her dress. She ran up the stairs, pulling off her shoes on the way up. As she reached the top of the stairs, a knife whizzed past her head. Angry, she raised her hands into the air, palms upward. "Kayla," she screamed. Knives came flying towards her, resting on her palms. She pointed them all to where the first knife had come from. "Sail," she whispered. The knives left her grasp and flew to their directed destination. The unfortunate man fell to the ground, seven knives sticking out of his body.

The remaining men looked at her, fear crossing their faces. "She's an Enchanter!" They ran around the room, some leaving through the door, others jumping out windows, and still more -the drunk ones- trip over the dead bodies and laugh. Jezebel shook her head and looked back at her brother. "You let this happen?"

Darius laughed and nodded his head. "I got my information, though. Did you?"

"I did. But I almost couldn't get the man off of me. I had to slice his throat."

"You still have it, sister. I'm proud of you." He nods approvingly, making Jezebel blush. "So where is she?"

"On her way to Mon' Dean. She has two weeks on us." Jezebel scowls. "I still don't like her. How could she do this to you?"

"Jezebel, you don't even care about what people do to me. She thinks she's doing the best for me."

"Well, if you had seen the man who gave me the information, you wouldn't be saying that." Darius looked at her, curiously. Jezebel sighs and says in a low voice, "because he was handsome, and knew right where she went. He was thirsty for a young girl."

Darius frowns, his dark eyes flaming. "You mean, you think?" He slammed his fist into the pole next to him. "She would, too. Just like Alice, to leave just for new men. She obviously got tired of me. Who wouldn't?" He starts yelling, his hair flying around him like he's crazy. Walking across the bar, he grabs a bottle of wine and drinks half of it down, handing it to Jezebel once he was done.

Jezebel takes the bottle willingly, eager to have some liquid in her body. She gulps down the wine, a blazing sensation stirring in her throat. She shakes her head and walks out the door, not waiting for Darius. She pulls off the fancy dress and puts on the comfortable riding clothes. Jezebel jumps onto her horse, Darius right behind her.

For a week they rode, only stopping to sleep and eat. They made their way to Mon' Dean, arriving late one night, when the moon was full, the stars shining above them. The high walls of Mon' Dean towered above them, making them feel small.

A short man walked out to meet them, his face was grave, hands hovered beside a sword. "Who goes there," he demanded. Jezebel and Darius pulled up in front of him, plans of disguise swimming in their heads. A long stretch of silence evolved around them until the guard couldn't help himself. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me your names, tell me your business in Mon' Dean."

"We are searching for my brother's wife," Jezebel says, uncloaking her face. "Last we heard, she was here in Mon' Dean. Perhaps you know her?"

The guard grunted and said in a deep voice, "depends on when she came. I may not have been on duty."

"Her name is Alice. Alice Lockhart." Darius jumped off his horse, holding onto the reins and walked toward the man. "Please, do you know her?"

"What does she look like?" The guard suddenly grew nervous, his hands twitched at his sides.

"She has short, black hair. Her eyes are a light blue, her lips deep red. She looks like she just came out of a fairy tale."

"Aye, I know her alright. She is staying at the Deep Turn Tavern. Don't know how you could ever lose such a beautiful creature." The guard chuckled, making way for them to enter the town by moving to the side. Darius grunted his disapproval, glaring at the man.

"Thank you for your time, sir," Jezebel said sweetly, pouring a few coins into the man's hand. She follows Darius through the dark streets, the stone houses squeezing them in. As they neared the Tavern, music made its way to their ears, filling them with joy. A lady was leaning against a house, her dress showing too much of her breasts. She held a bottle of champagne, and the man next to her was smoking, occasionally taking a large draft of the champagne. Darius looked at them with disgust, their slurred laughter poison to his ears.

Jezebel pulled her horse to an abrupt stop, quickly jumping down. She handed Darius the reigns and he took them, and pulled the two horses toward the horse shed. Jezebel walked into the Tavern and smoke immediately fogged up her sight. The smell of beer reached her nose, clogging it up. She pulled her hood back onto her head, hiding in the shadows.

The barman looked over at her, his eyes full of interest. Jezebel walked toward him, a tight smile formed on her lips. "Can I help you?" The man asked, his face full of pleasure.

Jezebel summoned her sweetest voice and said in a low whisper, "you can, actually. I'm looking for my friend, Alice Lockhart. She told me she is staying here. May I have her room number, please?"

The man grinned, and red crept to his cheeks. "She's staying in room number four."

"Thank you, friend. And for your payment," she slowly unbuttoned her cloak, watching the man's face grow sweaty. "Oh, I've forgotten something. Can I pay you later, after I talk to my dear friend?" The man looked disappointed, so Jezebel leaned in closer and said, "I would rather do it somewhere else. Somewhere more quiet." The man looked confused, but nodded his head wildly. "Somewhere alone," Jezebel said. The man lightened up, a wide grin spreading on his face as he finally understood what Jezebel was trying to say.

"That wou.. would be a pleasure."

Jezebel smiled and walked up the stairs, looking back and waving her hands slowly at the man. Once she was out of sight, she buttoned her cloak, hiding her face once again. She found room four and knocked quietly on the door. A raspy voice from inside answered, "Blake, I've already told you. Not tonight. I'm too busy to do more tonight. Come back tomorrow." Jezebel silently opened the door and walked into a small room with four chairs sitting around a fireplace. Another door to her right sat slightly open, noises coming from within. Jezebel shut the door behind her and silently walked to the door. She opened it slowly, afraid that it would make noise and give her away.

Inside Jezebel could barely make out a figure on the bed, sprawled wildly against it. She frowned, narrowing her eyes. But then she saw what's wrong. It was not one person, but two. The woman had her head laying against the man's bare chest, her fingers twirling around it. The man had his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer and closer to him. He speaks to her in a soothing tone, like he is singing to her. But that's just it, he's singing to her. "Alice?" Jezebel asked, incredulously.

The lady screamed, jumping up and pulled her blanket over her bare chest. "Who is that?" She asked, her voice croaking in fear.

"Jezebel." She lit a match, bringing fire to a candle. "I need to speak to you."

"Jezebel," Alice hissed, the name poison to her lips. The man fell off the bed, pulling clothes back onto his bare body. He walked past Jezebel, saying in a low whisper, "I'll be seeing you around, Jezebel." And he left, with no words to Alice.

"Who was that man," Jezebel commanded, her angry voice bringing tears to Alice's eyes. "Did the fact that you are married to my brother ever cross your mind while you made love to him?" Alice shook her head, tears flinging from her eyes. "How many others?"

"That's none of your business. Drake is a nice man. And very attractive, with soothing words that take all my pain away. All the pain you gave me."

"And what about Blake, does he give you that? Does Drake know that you are sleeping with Blake?"

"No," Alice says confidently. "Blake is just a friend. Drake and I are going to get married. He tells me he loves me."

"Darius is here." The three words draw horror to Alice's face and her tears come to an abrupt stop.

"What?" She hissed, hatred filling her eyes. "Jezebel, you promised me." She stopped talking as the door opened and a man walked in. He opened the door that lead into Alice's bedroom and you could see his face. Darius looked furious. His eyes were wide, his hair wild, his mouth had blood dripping onto his shirt.

"Alice," he whispered. "I've been so worried about you." He pulled her into his arms, despite her protests. "Jezebel tells me you are a witch, is that true?"

"Yes. I didn't want you with me, it's too dangerous Darius." She pulled herself out of his arms, wiping at her eyes. "King Aragon will be furious, he will want me and all my loved ones. You must not come with me."

"Wait Alice," Darius said. "Jezebel wants something from you. Something she deserves as she hid you from me for all these years. Give it to her please, and then we may talk."

Alice nodded her head, turning around to face Alice. "What do you want, Jezebel?"

"I want you to change me."

"But that's impossible! It cannot be done!"

"No. I know that you know how to do it. I'm not leaving here until you give me what I want."

"But I don't want to change you. You have been so helpful for all these years, I couldn't bear to lose you."

"The change wouldn't be permanent," Jezebel said confidently. "Please," she begged.

Alice sighed. "Fine. What do you want to change into?"

"A wolf."

Alice nodded her head gruffly and laid her hands onto Jezebel's head. "Wolves are magical, wolves are great. Change this lady, but not permanently."

Jezebel was lifted into the air, her body changing form. Her fur was black, with golden streaks into it. Her eyes were dark, but glowing brightly. She fell onto the ground, the thud shaking Darius and Alice. Jezebel jumped up and ran out the window, her new, beautiful form instantly captivating anyone who laid eyes on her.

"So now she's wild," Alice said, satisfyingly.

"Yes. She's doing what she's always wanted," Darius whispered. "She's running with the wolves."