The Witch Awakens on Werewolf Night

The Fable Witch

Forever cursed by the Moon Goddess.

Werewolves.

Dill first heard this term while playing "Great Fables" with a few young witches.

It was a set of exquisitely made porcelain cards, glazed on the back and edged with ivory, small enough to fit in the palm but opening to reveal extravagantly detailed and colorful designs—some even gilded with gold and silver leaf.

This was a gift from a rich pirate, an old lover of the village's most beautiful witch, Mida; rare and exotic goods were no challenge for him when it came to winning his beloved's favor.

He gifted this set, claimed to be the most complete and precious "Great Fables" in the continent, to his witch lover. However, as their love fizzled out, this treasure, like other dusty gifts, became a toy for the children.

Dill was captivated at first sight and found the game rules increasingly familiar. When she drew a card depicting a wolf-headed man, it felt like seeing the face of a long-lost relative.

Was this not Werewolf?

Sweeping away her previous failures with potions, Dill dominated the game table, thoroughly enjoying herself and leaving the inexperienced young witches bewildered.

If only everything could be as smooth as this game.

Satisfied, Dill counted the chips on the table, her offhand sigh like a stone breaking the calm surface of a lake. Suddenly, a few young witches grasped her hands with teary eyes, saying,

"It will be! Dill, you're definitely going to be the first among us to offer a werewolf's head to the gods."

Holding the wolf card, Dill looked up at their earnest faces, feeling like she had missed some crucial information.

"Great Fables," an ancient game long passed down, largely replicated the ecosystem of the Vitocovano continent. The game had four main factions, representing the powers that be on the continent: the Church, the Witches, the Villagers, and finally, the Werewolves.

The rules were as Dill knew them: werewolves devour humans, humans must identify the werewolves; witches can use potions to kill or to save; Church knights use silver swords to slay werewolves, and if a witch's identity is revealed, they can choose to kill the witch and take her potions for their own use.

But when this hunting game became reality, Dill's understanding of the world shattered into pieces, scattered like the gorgeous porcelain cards on the table.

Bright enamel flowers adorned the edges of witch cloaks; shimmering silver leaf coated knights in a holy glow of armor; each day turned and every page flipped wove together an ancient and enduring fairy tale. Here, people praised faith, explored mysteries, and feared... catastrophes.

Among mostly white porcelain surfaces, a few cards bore ominous black, devoid of any celestial or floral decorations. Perhaps disasters had already consumed all life, with unusual cat's eye stones set within, the non-human, non-beast silhouettes lurking in the night, coldly watching their prey.

Werewolves, a kind of wolf-shaped demon that roamed the continent, were fierce, with heightened senses, capable of shifting between wolf and human forms, blending into crowds, and wielding terrible powers of disaster and plague.

"Great Fables" was not just a game; true to its name, it was an ancient admonition, constantly reminding humanity: werewolves never left; they might even be hiding nearby. Some powerful witches could use the porcelain cards for divination, predicting fortunes and werewolf movements.

Amber once told her that werewolves originated as silver wolf messengers of the Moon Goddess, cursed into monstrous forms for their betrayal. At the time, Dill took it as just another bedtime story.

Witches despised everything about werewolves, extending their hatred to anything resembling wolves or dogs, which were not allowed in the village.

Ignorant young Dill once picked up a dirty little dog in the forest. It reminded her of the stray dogs that roamed the streets in her memories, pitifully dirty and alone, so she decided to take it home.

Dill even had a name ready: Cinnamon, a perfect pair with her. She figured she could later claim it was the will of the Moon Goddess, softening Amber into accepting the dog as a familiar.

The result was nearly getting beaten half to death by an infuriated Amber, the first time Dill saw her teacher truly angry.

The usually jesting woman suppressed all emotion, her forehead vein throbbing as she coldly stared at the naive girl. Eventually, she dragged Dill to a dark cellar, normally off-limits, to witness a man transforming into a howling beast under the moonlight. According to Amber, this wasn't even a real werewolf but a victim bitten by one.

Victims of werewolves who didn't die immediately were infected by the curse at the wound site, transforming into slaves under the werewolf's control. These individuals, lacking the full power of true werewolves and only transforming on the night of a full moon, were called cursed werewolves by the witches.

Werewolves and cursed werewolves: the former are the deceptive, wolf-shaped demons, while the latter are humans trapped in wolf bodies. But ordinary people couldn't distinguish between the two, and the Church, believing these cursed beings had betrayed their faith to gain shapeshifting powers from demons, hunted them down alongside true werewolves.

Only witches showed compassion for these cursed werewolves, not just offering them refuge but also working to concoct potions to free them from werewolf control and alleviate the curse's pain.

Amber wanted Dill to remember that the source of the curse, the true villains: the werewolves, were the most terrifying monsters and the eternal enemies of witches.

Amber was half right; the shock therapy had Dill bedridden for a month.

Yet, despite her illness, the girl managed to release Cinnamon before the other witches could drown the pup. Amber was both angry and pained by Dill's actions, eventually punishing her by sending her to tend the Goddess's garden and care for the animals there.

The Goddess's garden sounded idyllic, and indeed, it was filled with exotic flowers and mystical creatures, appearing as if Amber had mercifully sent Dill to a paradise away from the village. But Dill soon understood the punishment's true meaning.

When a black cat asked her what time dinner was, Dill chose to faint, overwhelmed by the surreal experience, and woke up to gentle paw pats from a pink, dreamily soft cat.

The black cat introduced itself as Phoebe, her human name, along with an ancient, rust-red script appearing in Dill's mind:

"Those who fail to complete the sacrifice ceremony will be stripped of their magic and forever cursed by the Moon Goddess."

So, the garden housed those unmentioned failures, the witches who hadn't managed to hunt a werewolf by their eighteenth birthday, failing to offer its head to the goddesses and thus cursed into different animals.

Their magic and familiars were taken back by the goddesses, and their animal forms were transformations of their former familiars. The Goddess's garden was their only sanctuary and lifetime prison.

After two lessons in shock, Dill emerged thinner and more devout, which is why no one blamed her for putting her last hope into an egg.

Back to the present—

The long-closed door opened with a thud, and the dark-haired girl, under the gaze of the other witches and with an eerily calm expression, walked unsteadily, reminiscent of delicate porcelain that could shatter at the slightest touch. Everyone's attention drifted away.

A wobbly big white goose happily followed its master, its beady eyes curiously observing this new world. Its naive and sweet demeanor matched its owner's, and despite everything, it was quite endearing.

Amber shot a fierce look from the door c***k, signaling everyone to hold their tongues. Thankfully, the group had enough conscience to put away their pots and pans, making way for Dill.

Now, Dill faced two paths: fail to challenge the werewolf and become a side dish alongside the big white goose, deliciously consumed; or do nothing and be transformed by the angry goddess into a big white goose herself, spending her life pecking for bugs in the garden.

The witches knew well the bleak futures awaiting this unfortunate young witch—one gruesomely unattractive, the other miserably unappealing. Yet, they didn't need to remind her; Dill's expression was already quite grim.

In the end, with a soft sigh, the dark-haired girl picked up her not-so-steady goose and quickly disappeared from view.

The Goddess's garden soon welcomed rare visitors.

True to its name, the garden was filled with various depictions of the Moon Goddess, from lapis lazuli statues holding silver jugs, endlessly pouring water for deer to drink, to marble arms embracing the sky, offering rest for tired birds.

A black cat quietly landed on the shoulder of a goddess drawing a bow, likely informed by the noisy white crows and waiting at the entrance. But the sight of a naive and foolish big white goose brought a reluctant grimace to its furry face.

"Actually... living here isn't so bad, with plenty to eat and drink. At most, you can't walk on two legs, which isn't too bad."

Glancing again at the wobbly goose, it added,

"Ah, my mistake, you can still walk on two legs."

Its attempt at consolation was even worse than Amber's.