3. Her Wolf

Moonlight slipped through the window, spreading light across that cramped room. Spiderwebs hung in the corners, and the furniture was covered with dust. The place looked abandoned.

Just like the figure lying motionless on the floor.

It hurt...

The memory of the pain flashed through her mind as she tried to wake up. She inhaled sharply and snapped her eyes open, her chest heaving as she stared through blurred vision.

Her gaze lingered on the wooden beams overhead, her brow furrowing.

Pushing herself upright, she sat for a moment before placing her palms on the floor and rising to her feet.

Dizziness made her sway, but she managed to steady herself against the nearby table. After waiting for a moment, she moved her gaze around the unfamiliar room, her scowl growing.

This wasn't a battlefield, the last place she remembered being.

Dropping her gaze to her body, she noticed the plain dress she wore, her mantle nowhere to be seen.

She ran her hands over her body, checking all the places where she remembered being wounded, especially her stomach, which was supposed to be torn open.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she froze.

Just the memory of that ruthless blow sent a chill through her.

Being completely healed after that attack was impossible, and the realization unsettled her more than if the wounds were still there.

With her hands lowered, she narrowed her gaze.

The only possibility she could think of was the healing spell.

A frown crossed her face. Who was she trying to fool?

Even if she had somehow managed to cast a healing spell, it could never have restored her this completely. And the spell she had cast on him should have left nothing alive to heal.

A short laugh escaped her in disbelief. Grinning with her eyes closed, she placed a hand on her chest and felt her heartbeat. Was the scent of dust always this beautiful?

"Hahahaha!"

She laughed madly. Even if she couldn't understand what had happened, one fact was clear: she was well and alive!

Still smiling crookedly, she looked at herself again.

Slowly, the smile faded from her face.

Her skin was too smooth, and her body too slim and delicate. Since when had her nails ever been this pristine?

They had always been blackened and damaged by years of dark magic.

A cold unease settled over her as she approached the dresser. Something was wrong.

She stopped before the dresser, where the moonlight fell strongest, and studied the petite girl in the mirror. The girl wore a pale-blue dress, her long, curly hair framing a face with wide hazel eyes and golden-brown skin.

For a moment, she did nothing but stare at the reflection.

A hallucination?

It had to be some spell.

“Damn this.”

She slammed her palm against the mirror, the noise filling the room. Cracks spread across the glass, splitting the girl's face.

Her breath caught as she stared at the reflection. It wasn't an illusion.

“Who are you?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Lowering her hand, which was now trickling blood, she took a step back. So this was it? Was this the answer to how she had been healed?

She had possessed someone else's body?

Her breathing quickened. Whose body was she in, and how had this happened? And if... everything was the same even after that.

But then... a growl, so close that it seemed to be inside her skull, rumbled in her ears.

Her body tensed. Instinctively, she spun around, stood in a stance, and raised a hand to summon her staff.

Seconds passed without anything happening. With knitted brows, she examined her raised, empty hand before trying again.

Nothing happened. Her heart rate picked up. Was this what she had feared about this body, or just a side effect of whatever had happened?

Before she could make sense of it, the voice rang out again. “Witch!”

She scanned the empty room as she slowly moved around. There was no one in the room, but the being called her a witch with spite.

“Bring Nalath back!” the growl added, sounding almost inhuman. No, maybe it wasn't. After all, only one being could growl like a beast and talk like a human. A werewolf.

"You won't like it if I find you," she warned slowly in her chilling tone. "Show yourself."

Bring someone back? Nalath?

“Third eye!” She spoke the spell that allowed her to see anything hidden from sight.

Her eyes flew open, her frown deepening.

Stretching out a hand toward the candle, she tried to light it. Then she waved her hand toward the window, attempting to close it with the spell.

Both spells failed.

Her expression darkened, her heart pounding. There was a way to confirm her fear: to find out if she still had a core.

The fact that she even thought about it made her hands tremble because it proved her guess.

She curled them into fists.

Without her core, she couldn't use magic. Without her magic, was she even still herself? The queen of witches?

One had to be born with a core. Even for dark magic, one needed a pure core before corrupting it into a dark one. Some chose death when their cores were ruined.

And now... she didn't have one herself. She was no better than an ordinary human. The thought disgusted her so much that her eyes turned red.

No. She would not lose her powers so easily. She had to find what caused this. A seal? A curse?

Her eyes dropped to her hand.

What if she hadn't lost her core, and it was because this body had never possessed one? Her stomach twisted at the thought.

Had she somehow ended up in a human body?

The voice erupted again.

“You witch!”

Her eyes squinted. That voice was still there. It must know what had happened to her—and perhaps it was responsible.

“Who are you?” she asked in a level tone, addressing the empty darkness.

Silence deepened in the room before the voice growled in response. “Nalath's wolf!”

Nalath again. Nalath's wolf?

Her brow furrowed. “Why don't you come out and tell me who Nalath is?”

“Foolish witch!”

She scoffed, "You have no idea who you're speaking to, do you?"