Sara remained on her bed, still, wondering if anything else should happen. She looked left; she looked right. But her bedroom remained the same.
"So..." Sara said, but nothing further happened. Taking a deep breath and trying to center herself, she opened the book again.
Beyond the first page with the invocation she'd read, the rest was written in an elegant, cursive script. It was unfamiliar to her, and though she could distinguish individual letters--an 'a' here, an 'e' there, none of the groupings of letters formed words she understood.
Somewhat annoyed, she flipped several pages forward, to find an entry she could read.
"November 15, 1754.
I am tired today. The efforts of childbirth have left me unsettled. I know Emily will harness the same elemental forces I do, yet how can I ask her to forego the use of her powers? It is unfair, this thing we must do. How could one ask someone to grow up without using eyesight or hearing? Then, when they are on the cusp of adulthood, to thrust that mantle on them and expect them to be able to not revel in it and become overwhelmed? I will do what I must but I do not expect to will like it.
She is a beautiful child, as fair and temperate as an angel. I do not know which element she will favor, though if I had to guess, I would say Water. Her needs seem so mercurial. But is it not so with all newborns?
Ever in the Goddess' sight, so mote it be.
It was a diary, Sara realized. Handed down from generation to generation as each woman in her family came into their power. There were entries from others, perhaps twenty others who'd written in the book. She flipped through the pages, turning over several at a time. The handwriting and dates of the entries changed to more modern, more legible script.
"April 18, 1955.
Today, I have made a grave mistake. I know that the spells in this Book of Shadows are attuned to those with an affinity to the elements. I know my affinity with Air has bound me to work only Air-magic. I should be content with this. But I have had such dreams of late that I am certain one will be born who can master the four elements. I tried working with Water today, and the results have me struggling to breathe even now. I am not the one to carry that burden.
There is a time of darkness coming, an upheaval of immense proportions. And one of the daughters of the line of Evelyn Darcy will master the four elements. I weep for my unborn child and, selfishly, I pray it is not her.
-- Rachel Darcy"
Sara's breath caught in her throat. Rachel Darcy was her grand-mother's name. Sara had never known her family. She'd always been told that her mother and father had loved her very much, but that there had been an accident when she was a child and a fire had left her the only survivor.
The last entries were dated only five years before... By a woman named Janelle. This, she reasoned, would be the sister her fathers' letter had mentioned.
Noone else had ever mentioned a sister.