The Werewolf
Rosemary first heard the term during a game of "Great Fables" with a few young witches.
It was an exquisite set of porcelain cards, the backs glazed, the corners carved with ivory, no larger than the palm of one's hand, yet the opened faces were extraordinarily ornate, adorned with a variety of colorful and splendid stones— even gilded with a touch of gold and silver foil.
This was the most beautiful witch in the village: Mida, a gift from one of her old lovers; it was said that he was an extremely wealthy pirate with many connections to acquire rare and exotic goods to please his beloved.
He had given her this "Great Fables," claimed to be the most complete and precious set on the entire continent, but soon, as their love affair ended, this treasure, too, became just another dusty gift, turned into a toy for children.
Rosemary was captivated at first sight, and the rules of the game became increasingly familiar to her. When she drew a card with a black-faced figure of a man with a wolf's head, it was as if she saw the long-lost face of a dear one.
Wasn't this Werewolf?
Sweeping away her previous setbacks in potion-making, Rosemary dominated the card table, playing with great joy and bewildering the young, inexperienced witches.
If only everything could go as smoothly as the game.
The girl counted her chips on the table with satisfaction, her casual exclamation like a stone breaking the calm surface of a lake, and several young witches suddenly stepped forward, holding Rosemary's hands, their eyes brimming with tears, saying:
"It will be! Rosemary, you are surely the favored one among us who will be the first to offer the head of the magical wolf."
Rosemary still held the wolf card in her hand, looked up at the serious expressions, and suddenly felt as if she had missed some significant message.
"Great Fables," an ancient game passed down for a long time, largely restored the ecology of the Vitokhvano continent. The game has four main types of cards, which are also the four forces that dominate the continent: the Church, the Witches, the Villagers, and lastly: the Werewolves.
The rules of the game are as familiar to Rosemary as the werewolf devours humans, and humans must find the werewolf; witches can kill with potions or save with them; the church knights use silver swords to slay werewolves, and when a witch's identity is revealed on the card, they can choose to kill the witch and seize the potion for their own use.
But when this game of hunting becomes real, Rosemary's perception of the world shatters in an instant, scattering into the gorgeous porcelain cards on the table.
Bright enamel flowers and leaves are inlaid on the corners of the witch's cloak; shimmering silver foil gives the knight a holy and radiant armor; every page turned, every day passed, strings together an ancient and enduring fairy tale. Here, people sing of faith, explore the mysterious, and fear... disaster.
Mixed in with the mostly white porcelain cards, a few are fired with ominous black, with no stars or flowers embellished on the card faces, or perhaps disaster has already swallowed all living beings, and the unusual cat's eye stones are embedded in them, the outlines of neither human nor beast lurking in the night, coldly watching their prey.
The werewolf, a wolf-shaped magical creature that dominates the continent, is ferocious in nature, with extraordinary senses, able to switch freely between wolf and human forms, blend into the crowd, and possesses the terrible power to spread disaster and plague.
The Great Fable is not just a game; true to its name, it is an ancient admonition, constantly reminding humans that the magical wolf has never left, and may even be hiding beside them. Some powerful witches can even use the porcelain cards to divine fortunes and predict the movements of werewolves.
Amber once told her that werewolves originated from the moon goddess's silver wolf messengers, cursed into neither human nor wolf creatures because of their betrayal of the goddess, but at the time, Rosemary took it all as a bedtime story.
Witches hate everything about werewolves, and by extension, any wolf-shaped, or even dog-shaped creatures are not allowed in the village.
Ignorant little Rosemary once picked up a small mutt in the forest. She saw the dirty puppy, resembling the stray dogs that ran all over the streets in her memory, looking pitiful. Being alone herself, she decided to take him home and care for him.
Rosemary had even thought of a name: Cinnamon, a perfect match for herself. She planned to later fabricate a story that it was the moon goddess's will, hoping to soften Amber's heart and agree to take the puppy as a familiar.
The result was that she almost got beaten half to death by Amber, which was also the first time she saw her teacher in a fit of rage.
The usually carefree woman suppressed all emotions, pressing her temples, coldly staring at the ignorant and fearless girl, and finally half-dragged, half-carried Rosemary to the dark cellar that was not allowed to be entered on weekdays, to witness a live transformation.
A living person tore their own skin, the exposed bones making a chilling sound as they transformed, finally becoming a beast howling under the moonlight. According to Amber, this was not a true werewolf, but a victim bitten by one.
The victims of werewolves, if they do not die immediately, the curse will infect the wound, and the infected will become slaves of the werewolf, obeying its control. Their strength is far less than that of a true werewolf, and they can only take on a wolf form on the night of a full moon, which witches call cursed werewolves.
Werewolves, human wolves; the former are the magical wolves disguised as humans, while the latter are humans trapped in the bodies of wolves. But ordinary people cannot distinguish the difference, and the church even considers these human wolves to have betrayed their faith and allied with demons to gain the power of transformation, so they are hunted and killed like magical wolves.
Only witches have compassion for these human wolves, not only taking them in but also trying to concoct potions to eliminate the control of werewolves and alleviate the pain of the curse.
What Amber wanted Rosemary to remember was the source of the curse, the root of all evil: the werewolf, the most terrifying monster, and the lifelong nemesis of witches.
Amber was half right; the shocked Rosemary could not leave her bed for a whole month afterward.
But even so, the girl still struggled to get out of bed, and before the other witches could drown the puppy, she released Cinnamon. Amber was both angry and distressed, and in the end, she punished Rosemary to clean the goddess's garden and take care of the animals inside.
The goddess's garden sounds picturesque, and indeed, it is full of strange flowers and plants, inhabited by various rare and exotic creatures. At first glance, it seems that Amber has gone easy on Rosemary, sending her to a paradise far away from the village. But Rosemary soon understood the meaning of this punishment.
When a black cat asked her what time dinner was, Rosemary chose to kiss the earth directly and fainted for an unknown amount of time, only to be awakened by the soft pats of a cat's paw, pink and beautiful as if in a dream.
The black cat introduced itself: Phoebe, her human name, and at the same time, a line of rusty and faded ancient text appeared in Rosemary's mind.
[Those who have not completed the sacrificial ritual will be deprived of magic and forever cursed by the moon goddess.]
It turned out that those who were not mentioned, the failures, were all in this "garden of the goddess."
Black cat Phoebe and Amber were of the same generation. Upon hearing Rosemary's purpose, she understood Amber's intention and immediately called a few "seniors" to form a circle and give Rosemary a personal education.
Phoebe had a long scar on her right eye, an elegant one-eyed black cat. She had failed to hunt a werewolf, and although she saved her life, she also lost an eye and the trust of the goddess.
White crows Sarina and Ivana were twin sisters with a very rare telepathic power, but in the end, the two did not share courage but lost to each other's fear; Red deer Cynthia once said she was a more beautiful witch than Mida, and if it weren't for her turning into a deer, the throne of the village flower might still be uncertain.
They were all witches who failed to hunt the magical wolf, and because they did not go to the temple of the goddesses at the age of eighteen to offer the head of the wolf to complete the final sacrifice, they were deprived of their human form by the goddesses and cursed into different animals.
The goddess took back the magic and familiars she had given them, and their animal forms were actually transformed from the familiars. The garden of the goddess was their only sanctuary and lifelong prison.
So far, Rosemary has undergone two shocking educations. When she came out again, she had lost a lot of weight and gained a bit of piety, so it's no wonder that she finally had no choice but to put her last hope on an egg.
Back to the present—
The long-lost door creaked open, and the black-haired girl, under the gaze of the coven, wore an eerily calm expression.
She had always been the most delicate girl in the village, now treading with an unsteady gait, she wobbled as if she were one of those delicate porcelain figures from across the sea, fragile and ready to shatter at the slightest touch. The onlookers' eyes drifted away, unable to bear the sight.
A waddling great white goose followed its master's steps with a cheerful gait, its beady eyes curiously taking in the unfamiliar world. Its endearingly naive and sweet demeanor mirrored its young mistress, and one couldn't help but admit, it was rather charming.
From the crack in the door, Amber's menacing glare peeked through, a silent command for everyone to keep their mouths shut. Thankfully, the group still had a shred of decency; upon seeing the goose, they quickly put away their pots and pans, clearing a path for Rosemary.
In truth, Rosemary faced two paths: one where she failed to challenge the werewolf, and the goose would become her side dish, both to be devoured deliciously; the other where she did nothing, and the enraged goddess would transform her into a goose, condemned to a lifetime of bug hunting in the garden.
Everyone was acutely aware that the poor young witch had only two futures: one where she died a gruesome death, and another where she lived a miserable life. There was no need for reminders; Rosemary's expression was already quite grim.
But in the end, the black-haired girl let out a soft sigh. She turned, picked up the still unsteady goose, and vanished from sight in a hurry.
Before long, the garden of the goddess welcomed a rare guest.
As the name suggested, the garden of the goddess was adorned with statues of the moon goddess in various poses. There was one with lapis lazuli hands holding a silver vase, from which clear water flowed endlessly, attracting a herd of deer to drink; another with marble arms outstretched to the sky, offering weary birds a place to rest.
A black cat silently landed on the shoulder of the goddess with a drawn bow, likely already informed by the noisy white crows, waiting at the entrance. But upon seeing the clumsy and foolish goose, a flicker of compassion crossed its furry face.
"Actually... living here, you have food and drink, and at worst, you can't walk on two legs, which isn't so bad."
It glanced again at the goose waddling unsteadily and added,
"Ah, no, you can still walk on two legs."
Her consolation was even worse than Amber's.