There was a wealth of information up for grabs in every human settlement. Seriously. You wouldn't believe how haunted human cities were, with the murder rate as high as it was. And I suspect it isn't constrained to a certain period of time.

I materialized Sundamar so he could speak in the physical world. He unlocked all my Perks and Skills, except for one. Fairy Familiar was still blocked because Nenandil was trapped in the Empress' chambers. But he wasn't able to release me from the collar.

"I can't dispel the magic if I can't cast spells. I have no MP."

"I understand your feeling. What happens if I try to cut the collar?"

"It will shrink and cut your neck. We based the spell off the same in the slaver discipline of magic. Normally used for demons and enslaving people."

"I thought you'd invented the spell. A great contribution to the forces of nature, by the way," I snapped at the dead mage.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think the spell would be used to enslave you," The ghost wailed.

"Can't you do nothing to the collar?"

"I can change the command word, at least. This way, the humans won't be able to control you."

"Then do it! What did you want enslaving the fairies, anyway?"

"I wanted to relocate you into a primeval forest in my people's territory. There you'd be safe from human exploitation."

"And why the fuck didn't you just ask?"

"Your Queen was haughty and didn't believe you needed help. But the humans would eventually send the mages and knights to slaughter you all. A forceful rescue seemed the right thing to do."

"And then you succumbed to peer pressure. Damn, you were what when you died? Two hundred years old?"

"Almost."

I clicked my tongue. "That's why they don't let children play with guns."

"Cannons?" He asked confused. Handguns were not a thing.

"Yeah, that. C'mon, we need to raise an army."

I shifted to my hybrid form, becoming the World Tiniest Were-Jaguar™. Now instead of three apples tall, I was four. That's growth.

Followed by Sundamar and Mistress, We went to the best place to find good ghosts. No, not the graveyard although that was my first pick. The ritual burial and the priests' meddling pacifies most ghosts. Had Mistress's body been buried instead of dumped in the river, she wouldn't be around.

No, the best place to find good ghosts was where dozens upon dozens of innocent people were slaughtered. The "chopping block", as the townsfolk affectionately called the square next to the castle walls where criminals were executed.

Seriously, I felt like I was in the Netherworld waiting room. I felt like Michael Keaton wearing white makeup might show up at any time holding a thirteen digit ticket number.

You see, these ghosts had grudges and resentment, and they would be a-haunting if they had the power to manifest. Curiously enough, those that had ended up being exorcised. They were civil enough with me when I approached and made my pitch.

"Gentlemen, ladies. How's the afterlife treating you?" I called them.

It took a while for the ghosts to notice I was talking to them. Once they did, they flocked to me. After spending a long time listening to their complaints, I put my tiny paw down and cast a ward around me.

"Now, you dead bunch. I'm willing to help you if you are willing to help me. A number of my folk were kidnapped and enslaved. I need you to search the city, find them, and tell me where they are. Once we located and rescued most of my fairy friends."

A few ghosts, those of criminals as their guilt was easy to distinguish - they were stronger, meaner, and wicked ghosts, for their crimes reflected upon their souls - attacked me. I had to use my powers. I activated my {Soul Armor} and a translucent armor made of sou-stuff, or ectoplasm, surrounded me. Then it was a matter of dodging and tossing enough {Banishing Bolts} to force their souls to break and dissipate, moving on to their afterlife.

If the afterlife in this world wasn't a joke. The souls of the dead were sent to the Gods' magic-engine to be used as fuel.

Convinced that I could give them the delivery they needed one way or the other, the ghosts departed from the chopping block. We agreed to meet again at Laila's house next night. I didn't have a better base of operations.

My night was far from over. It was time to recruit another workforce, this one living. I'd sensed them when I entered the city in the carriage. They were around here, somewhere.

I ran around the city slums, looking for them. {Detect Monsters} gave me their location after a while. Funny. I thought [Monster Hunter] was just a rare Class. But for so many of them to live in one place so easy to detect, that Class might be unknown or not used anymore, at least in this region.

The run-down building where my next recruits were hiding in had enough rat holes for me to slip inside. What I found got me surprised.

The building was a front for access to the city catacombs. The few I sensed above-ground were sentries. Underground, a whole community lived and thrived.

Were-creatures. Lily's children. I spent the whole night observing them. They had a heavy portcullis behind a sound-proof enchantment that closed from the outside. Probably to seal them inside during nights of the full moon.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The curse of the moon-bound is the resentment of the animal spirit we bound with. The black jaguar that bound with me didn't do so willingly, it had no will of its own. At the night of the full moons, when the prison that entraps the animal within is weaker, it comes out. Even when the were-creatures reproduce, a new animal spirit is born along with the person. The cycle repeats itself.

In the centuries since Lily's fateful combat against King Rudolph III's army - I didn't fight the King, I had given up when he came for me, the were-jaguar mated and bred with several other types of animals. Thus were born other were-creatures.

But wolves were too sociable. The were-wolves quickly became the most numerous of the were-creatures.

But after seeing them living their own way and protecting society from their rage, I couldn't use them. I turned around and walked to the exit. Only to be blocked next to the gate. A big black werewolf was crouching near the passage I used, sniffing. Four others in human form were guarding the gate.

"I can smell you, kitten. Come out or I'll hunt you."

I shifted my fur to black and proudly walked out. My unique perk changed with the latest System update.

> * Were-kin Matriarch. Were-creatures are compelled to obey you. Your combat Skills raise a rank when fighting against or with were-creatures. Those you personally convert are stronger, smarter, and gain a loyalty boost. You gain a tithe from the Exp gains of were-creatures near you.

No longer it only related to were-jaguars. To the were-kin, I was their Queen.

"Stop yapping, pup," I told him.

"Black fur? Only the royalty has black fur!" The werewolf snarled and growled. "I'm the King of this place. I will not be challenged.

"Be it as it may. You are the King of this place. I'm your matriarch, can't you sense it?"

He came close. Only then I understood how small I was. I also got to check his level. Fifty-nine. Yes, a wealth of trouble. If it came to a fight, I would need to come out unscathed. I didn't doubt a single well-connected swipe of this guy could wipe out the meager six hundred HP I had.

"You smell old. Ancient," He sniffed me. "Matriarch you say? The wolf tribe is stronger than any cat, much less a kitten such as you."

"KNEEL," I commanded.

> Charisma test partially successful. 8 targets affected, 1 resisted.

The other were-kin quickly bent the knee. The black werewolf flinched but came back angrier.

"What did you do?"

He didn't attack outright. That was a blessing in itself. The seed of doubt in the lies he was told was planted.

"I'm the Matriarch, werewolf King," I replied. "All were-kin are my descendants. Let me tell you a little secret. The Matriarch fears no silver. The Matriarch fears no poison. You surely know the story of how the first of your kind were created."

"Fear no silver? Boris, bring me the dagger of punishment."

I had to fear cold iron now that I became fae, but not silver. And while I might be able to shed this vulnerability by just being born in another body, there was hope I could break the curse later. Or curses.

Boris, the guy that went to fetch the fearsome 'dagger of punishment', returned with an ornate box. An ornate silver dagger came out of the box in the black werewolf's hand. I extended my arm.

He slashed the arm off. Rude. Then he chortled. "Live without an arm, kitten. That will be your punishment."

Wounds made with silver could not be regenerated by us. I winced in pain and picked up my arm, pressing it to the stump. A few minutes later, it was working again although it would take an hour to fully heal.

"I tasted your claw, werewolf King. Now, you will be the one to taste the Matriarch's fangs. I challenge you to a duel of submission."

"Accepted. I'm going to eat you."

He stored the dagger back in the box with ceremonial reverence. Boris retreated to the corner of the gatehouse and the King snarled. Me and my luck with Royalty. He clawed. I dodged and climbed on his arm. The moment I touched him, he was doomed. I climbed his body with my claws fully extended, nicking him and making small cuts.

But my claws and fangs were silver. I got to his back and the werewolf was driven to madness by the pain. That's my fourth life learning to fight against creatures bigger than me. The sheer amount of perks and Skills I had that relied on me having a smaller size pushed my edge well beyond what was needed. I clawed his back but refrained from biting his head or limbs. I didn't want to dismember or kill him.

"Give up, pup. You cannot fight against the matriarch."

> Charisma test failed. Target resisted.

"Never! Get out of my mind!"

I stopped clawing him. I didn't want to maim this guy. Were I still Apricot or even Lily, their anger and resentment would've doomed him. I wasn't, not anymore. While I was still me, I would like to think I was older, wiser. Or maybe because a fairy's body and mind led to different proclivities. So I whispered to him.

"You are strong. I can't fathom how may Attributes and Perks you devoted to self-control and Willpower. That was all to protect our people, wasn't it? So you could resist the pull of the moon. So at least one of us remained in control while the madness of the beast within raged within our younger brethren. I respect you for that. But I need you to recognize me."

What I said rang deeply in his core. He paused.

"Are you real?" He asked. The doubt in his voice was strong, and not only doubt toward my identity.

"I am. I was a human girl back then. Lost, weakened. The elves took me in. They offered the change and I took it. I embraced the power. But I prepared myself and got a perk to resist the beast's influence. You fought well. A King you will still be. But even Kings should heed their mother's wisdom."

He stopped. sitting like a gorilla with his knuckles on the ground, the black werewolf stopped.

"I give up. I recognize her as the matriarch," He said.

Blood ran freely down his back. The wounds I caused were not regenerating.

"Shift to your human form. I must treat your wounds."

"Adrian, Matriarch. My name is Adrian."

"Wrong!" I shouted and giggled. "Your name is King Adrian first of his name. The rightful ruler of all were-kin, under the blessing of the Matriarch. All hail King Adrian the Wise!" The werewolves cheered. "Your first commandment. All were-kin are equal brothers and sisters under the eyes of the Matriarch, for they are all the child of her claws."

Adrian chuckled and repeated. "Let it be our law. All were-kin are equal brothers and sisters under the eyes of the Matriarch, for they are all the children of her claws."

The other werewolves repeated our words.

The gears of the world spun.

I had steered Fate once more.

I was a Spirit Surgeon. Stitching a few flesh wounds was nothing. I was an Alchemist. Brewing a minor healing potion out of what the were-kin's apothecary had was easy. But I had to go back to Laila's house. While I could stay here with the were-kin, I felt the urge to go back to watch over the girl. I knew her father would hit her if I went missing.

"I'll come back next night," I told Adrian, the Werewolf King. We were in our normal forms, Him a handsome human and me, a Silkie. "Gather everyone. I'll tell you my story then. I might need the Kin's help with a task."

"As you wish, Matriarch," King Adrian said. "We are willing to die for you."

I jumped and slapped his face. "Bad doggie!" I chided. "No child shall ever tell their mother they want to die. No mother would ever wish to see their child's death. The Kin must not sacrifice themselves for naught. Truly our life is one of conflict, and we might die. But we shall strive to survive and thrive. I'm not sending my Kin to die. Not when they do not come back. I, on the other hand, will always be back. Tell the lorekeepers of me. Of how to recognize the Matriarch. And do not die."

"As you command, Matriarch," He smiled. "I'll make dying a capital crime in my Kingdom."

"You do that. I have to go now. It is almost dawn. Keep your wounds bandaged and do not exert yourself. I'll be back tomorrow."

He escorted me out. I returned to Laila.