A loud bang erupted from the backroom where Daphne was working, followed by coughing that confirmed what Darya already knew. Her potion had failed once again.

Though usually adept at potion making, Daphne found the latest recipe elusive, much to her sister's irritation. Darya often thought of the two siblings as more like an old married couple, constantly bickering. While Daphne could be perceived as impetuous and wild, Lysandra embodied authority and exuded stoicism. Darya wished she could find a happy medium between them.

It was becoming harder and harder for Darya to balance the line between the two very different sisters who had raised her from a baby. Today was evidence enough of that.

"Must you continue this fruitless endeavor?!" Lysandra shouted from the parlor, no doubt with her nose buried in one of the scrolls of wisdom. "Truly Daphne, the house will soon begin its rebellion."

"If the house hasn't rebelled in the last century, then I highly doubt it'll start now!" came Daphne's quick retort.

The two would be loath to admit that they wouldn't know what to do without each other. Darya knew the true reason for the strife that now ran rampant through the only home she'd ever known, the reason no one dared speak aloud as though speaking it would give bones to the abstract.

All the Sorceri had begun to feel a shift, from the air, the stars, even the very core of their magic, dwindling inside them. This, in turn, fostered a growing uneasiness among the coven members.

Darya didn't know what to make of it, but in her short 25 years not much had ever been expected of her. While Daphne and Lysandra pored over their tomes, and scrolls, Darya focused on mastering the small bit of magic she could muster, laughing at the idea that her poor excuse for magic could dwindle any further.

There was levitation, typically a first-year skill but for whatever reason, whenever Darya attempted it, whatever she tried to levitate would either expire rapidly, burst into flames, or even explode in her face. Lysandra forbade her from attempting the skill after she had turned the kitchen walls an unfortunate shade of orange. Darya still couldn't stand the acrid smell of orange peels.

Even the ever-forgiving Daphne had not so subtlety expressed to Darya that she should avoid lighting the foyer candles after accidentally catching the drapes on fire. Her magic seemed to come in short bursts, or not at all – something even the most skilled members of the coven couldn't explain, despite several one-on-one sessions with Darya.

Darya pushed those memories away as she now channeled her magic in the garden, attempting to grow a simple rose from an already budding sprout. Focusing her hands as Daphne had shown her many times before, Darya allowed her magic to unfurl inside of her, calling upon it and silently pleading to Hecate that this time might be different.

"Hecate be damned!" she cursed sharply as the bud rotted before her eyes, followed by the entire rose bush withering in a matter of seconds.

Daphne will be terribly upset. Everyone has their limits, even the most kindhearted. Darya wondered for the millionth time what had possessed the sisters to continue keeping her around, as she wasn't very good at anything. Perhaps the one quality the sisters shared was their inability to give up on a lost cause.

The little orphan left on their doorsteps so many moons ago, a sad little Sorceri unable to complete even the simplest of spells. Darya could feel the weight of her pity wrapping its arms around her, the tears stinging the back of her eyes.

She wondered if her parents even cared to know where she was, if she was okay. Did they know that she would be safe with the Lambros sisters? Were they waltzing about Asteria unaware of her situation? Would they have answers to the ineptitude of their child?

Perhaps they had known what would become of their baby girl and decided it was best to keep her away from the prying eyes of Darya's real family, she surmised.

Well, damn them too, Darya thought with a huff, wiping her damp cheeks. Soon everyone will know what it's like to be just like me.

A powerless nobody.