Ignatius began the ritual as soon as he saw that Vione was ready. He raised both hands in the air, tracing magical patterns he had studied for years. The sky darkened, a sign that nature was answering his call.
The incantation Ignatius spoke echoed through the forest. He called upon the power he had entrusted to the full moon. Then the energy surged forth, drawing power from the earth, encircling the two of them, creating a magical ring invisible to ordinary human eyes.
Vione stood still at the center of the circle. Her body tensed, preparing for the inevitable change.
The air began to quiver. The spell had taken hold.
A burning sensation spread through Vione’s entire body. Her breathing became heavy and labored, and in an instant, she began to change.
Thick, silvery white fur sprouted from Vione’s skin. Her claws grew longer and her muscles swelled. Her face stretched into the terrifying snout of a wolf.
Vione let out a loud roar as the transformation was complete. A second later, she was no longer human, but a giant wolf, standing in the center of the magical circle filled with ancient power.
Ignatius continued to chant. His voice grew louder and deeper, making waves all around them. He reached out his hands to Vione, his fingers curling as if pulling something out of her, and then a blue-golden light began to radiate.
The wolf power that flowed in Vione’s blood began to be drawn out, appearing as a glowing stream of mist. It formed a path from her body to Ignatius’ hands. The energy felt dense, filled with wild and untamed power.
Vione shook violently. Her wolf form fought against the searing pain from within. She growled, her claws digging deep into the ground. Large holes formed as her cries of pain echoed through the silence of the Amerotha forest.
Hold on, Vione, Ignatius hissed inwardly as he continued to drain her strength.
Finally, the blue-golden light grew brighter, flowing intensely into the circle of the spell. Fragments of Vione’s wolf power escaped from her body, wrapping tightly around her as if ripping away the very essence of her wolf form.
Vione felt a deep sense of loss as pieces of her power left her. Her heart and soul became hollow, and as the blue-golden light began to fade, her wolf power was completely absorbed by Ignatius’ spell.
Vione’s body collapsed to the ground, completely drained. She fought with all her strength to keep her eyes open, just to see the end of the ritual.
Ignatius held his breath. His face hardened as he fought to maintain control over Vione’s wolf power. Sweat trickled down and the veins on his forehead bulged. Then, with a sharp scream, he threw his hands outward.
The blue-golden light exploded and scattered in all directions. The Amerotha Forest shook violently. Ignatius was thrown to the ground and a moment later silence returned.
Ignatius groaned softly. His body felt shattered. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a sight he had never seen before in his life.
The Amerotha Forest was bathed in a magical glow, a radiance unlike anything Ignatius had ever seen. Every leaf and branch sparkled as if enveloped in moonlight, weaving a mesmerizing web of light. Even the wild animals seemed more alive than usual. All living things seemed to have been reborn, and all because the energy released by Vione had created a mystical aura that forged a harmony of eternity.
Ignatius was stunned. He couldn’t contain his amazement as he realized the immense power Vione had possessed all this time. He was so in awe that he ignored the pain in his body and struggled to his feet.
With shaky steps, Ignatius approached Vione, who was still in her wolf form. “Vione.”
Vione groaned weakly. She blinked, then tried to stand, though her legs were still shaking. She took in as much air as she could to steady herself, and in that moment, she saw the first harsh reality of what had happened.
Even Ignatius couldn’t hide his shock and grief, and for Vione it was even worse. For in that moment, Vione had lost her true symbol as a werewolf.
Vione had lost her claws. She no longer had them. Now she was a werewolf without claws.
*
The present…
Vione thought it had all started when she was a toddler. That’s how she remembered it. She was just playing in the yard, under the light of the full moon, when suddenly a blue-golden light enveloped her. She let out a short cry of pain and then passed out.
Addy and Hilary were frantic. They immediately rushed Vione to the pack hospital. She was examined and the doctor said there was nothing to worry about. Vione was fine, or so it seemed.
The next day, Vione began to notice something strange about herself. Normally, she could easily keep up with Addy and Hilary on their patrols through the Amerotha Forest, but now she was quickly becoming exhausted. She couldn’t walk for long, nor could she carry her own pack. She felt so weak that even breathing became a challenge.
Vione had lost the strength that had once left others in awe. Now she was nothing but a lowly, pitiful werewolf. That’s why she wasn’t surprised when she found herself badly injured after the fight with Mireya. She really was that weak and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to survive much longer in this world.
It’s okay, Vione thought contentedly as the coma clouded her consciousness. As long as Usher was safe, it was all worth it.
Vione had tried to open her heart and accept her fate, but one regret remained: she hadn’t been able to stay at Usher’s side any longer. She hadn’t even had the chance to tell him how much she loved him-more than her own life.
Ironically, Vione’s regret only deepened each time Usher visited her in the infirmary. Not a day passed without his presence. Despite the pack’s dire situation, Usher always found time to come.
Usher took Vione’s hand and kissed her fingers, always whispering words of love.
Now Vione’s willingness to die was disturbed by a primal selfishness. She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t ready to die. She wanted to recover and live. She wanted to spend endless days with Usher.
Please, God, Vione begged, hope filling her heart as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. I want to recover. I don’t want to leave Usher.
*