After my Grams presented me with the Grimoire, I decided to head back home with her. I could have stayed up all night at the Cullens', diving into the pages of the book, but something drew me home instead. Maybe it was the need to speak with my Grams alone, to have this conversation just between the two of us. She didn't mind the Cullens, but there were some things she wouldn't discuss around them, especially when it came to our heritage.

The kitchen clock was inching toward 1 a.m., but I didn't feel the least bit tired. The grimoire lay on the table in front of me, just within arm's reach, waiting for me to reveal its secrets. I lifted my eyes from the cover of the tome to meet my Grams' gaze, seeing in her eyes a silent encouragement to open it.

"Are you frightened?" she asked gently, her brows knitting together as she wondered if the weight of centuries-old knowledge intimidated me.

"No," I answered quickly, shaking my head to reinforce my words. "I just..." My voice trailed off, my gaze drifting back to the grimoire before returning to my Grams a moment later.

She gave me a reassuring smile, the kind that always made me feel safe, even when I was little. "It's ok to feel uncertain, Charlotte. This book holds more than just spells and potions. It carries the legacy of our bloodline, the hopes, fears, and wisdom of those who came before you. Opening it means accepting that legacy."

I nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. This wasn't just about learning magic; it was about stepping into the shoes of the women who had paved the way for me, about embracing the power and responsibility that came with it.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out and placed my hands on the cover of the grimoire. The leather was cool to the touch, and the metal edges felt solid and ancient under my fingers. I could almost feel the energy pulsing through it, like the book itself was alive, waiting for me to unlock its secrets.

With a determined look, I met my Grams' gaze one last time before slowly lifting the cover, the creaking sound of leather echoed softly in the silence of the kitchen.

As I opened the first page, my brow furrowed at the intricate swirls and the words inscribed there. "Book of Shadows?" I questioned, my eyes lifting from the crisp parchment to meet my Grams' gaze.

"Each generation adds to the book—spells, potions, their thoughts," she explained, her gaze steady on mine. "A Book of Shadows is the proper term for this kind of book." A soft smile appeared on her lips as she extended her hand, pointing to a number inscribed on the page: 3000. "That's the original date it was created," she informed me, and my eyes widened in shock.

"That was like, five thousand years ago?" I exclaimed; my voice tinged with disbelief. The book didn't look that ancient; the leather was still smooth and firm, with no cracks, and the decorative metal accents were intact. Despite its impressive age and extensive use, it seemed remarkably well-preserved.

"There's pretty much a spell for everything," she replied with a light chuckle, as if the book's age was no cause for concern. "This is just the beginning," my Grams whispered, her voice filled with pride and warmth. "The knowledge within these pages is now yours to explore, to learn from,"

"There's so much in here. I... I don't even know where to start," I said, the enormity of the knowledge feeling almost overwhelming.

"Start at the beginning," Grams advised gently, her fingers delicately turning to the first page. As it opened, I saw detailed information about witchcraft and the principles we were expected to uphold.

It was safe to say, I was going to be reading until the early hours of the morning...

.....................

The pages were filled with detailed information about witchcraft, crystals, herbology, phases of the moon, and various other topics, that you would find typically in a book of witchcraft. I absorbed as much as I could, but eventually, exhaustion from the intense reading set in. The next thing I knew, I was being gently awakened by my Grandma, my head resting on my arms, which were propped up on the Book of Shadows. She gently insisted that I go to bed, and though I might have argued under different circumstances, I couldn't find it in me to disagree.

I closed the book and carried it to my room, knowing it was now mine, passed down to me. It was more than I could have ever imagined—better than any gift I could've hoped for.

I slept peacefully and didn't wake up until late morning. After going through my usual routine, I came downstairs with the Book of Shadows tucked in the crook of my arm. It's weight-heavy, but that's a price of centuries of knowledge. I found my Grams in the kitchen, already pouring two cups of tea.

"How did you sleep, honey?" she asked warmly, glancing over her shoulder to meet my eyes briefly.

"Well," I replied, setting the book down on the kitchen table before pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I'm surprised I slept at all," I chuckled, which made her laugh too as she set the teapot back on the stove and brought the cups over to the table.

"I was just like that," she said, placing a cup in front of me before sitting down herself. "When I first got it, I couldn't keep my hands off the pages. I wanted to read and cast every spell it contained." She smiled, lost in the nostalgia of long-ago memories. "Even now, it still amazes me," she said, her eyes drifting to the Book of Shadows. A soft smile touched her lips as she reached out and rested her hand on the leather cover.

"What kinds of spells are in here?" I asked, glancing between the book and my Grams. Given its long lineage, I wondered if there were any spells that might be considered less than benevolent.

Her gaze lingered on the book, and her smile waned slightly. It was as if she had hoped I would discover this for myself rather than having to explain it.

"There are indeed spells that aren't considered 'good,'" she said, finally meeting my gaze.

"So, you're saying that I might come across spells that are evil?" I asked for clarification, and she nodded in agreement. "Are you going to make me promise never to use those spells?" I asked with a teasing smile, expecting her to say yes.

"No," she replied bluntly, surprising me with her unexpected response. "You have the book now, and you're an adult. It's up to you to decide what kind of witch you want to be," Her words were sincere, and they almost frightened me—she was completely serious. "This is a path you must now walk alone," she said solemnly. "I've taught you the differences between right and wrong and what witchcraft truly entails. The choice of which path to take is now up to you... I told the same thing to your mother."

"I'll do right by you, Grams," I said softly, extending my hand to grasp hers. "And by my parents," I added, a smile spreading across my lips, mirrored by the one on hers.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, her smile widening as if my words had somehow made it shine even brighter. "You continue exploring the book," she said, rising from her seat and cradling her warm cup in her hands. "The book will guide you to what you need," she added cryptically. Her enigmatic comment made me furrow my brows in curiosity, but she merely laughed softly before leaving the room. I was left alone with the Book of Shadows.

With eagerness, I opened the book and began to leaf through its crisp, yellowed pages. The ink now faded and staining the backs of the pages hinted at the centuries-old writings that had been preserved within. As I flipped through the ancient pages, the delicate rustling of the paper filled the quiet kitchen. My fingers glided over the faded text as my eyes searched for something intriguing. Reaching the page where I had left off the night before, I turned to the next one and was met with a stunning array of intricate symbols and diagrams along the edges. The central text, written in an elegant, flowing script, was both neat and readable.

Upon closer inspection, I realized this page wasn't filled with a spell, but rather a personal entry written in the book. She must have anticipated that the Book of Shadows would be handed down through the generations.

"To those who come after me,

By my hand, this Book of Shadows was created, born from the need to preserve the secrets of our craft and keep our power safe. Within these pages, I have written the knowledge of the elements, the spirits, and the forces that shape our world. This book is not merely mine—it is meant to be a living record, a sacred space where you, my descendants, will write your spells, rituals, and discoveries.

I entrust this book to you, so that each generation of witches may add their wisdom and grow in strength. Let it be a shield for our craft, protecting our secrets from those who would seek to destroy them. Use it wisely, guard it fiercely, and know that through these pages, we are connected across time.

Let this Book of Shadows be your compass in times of darkness and your shield in times of peril. Honour it, and it will honour you...

By my hand, this book is yours."

I read quietly into the still kitchen air, my eyes tracing each word I uttered, until I reached the bottom of the page. Beneath the final word, a name appeared, elegantly inscribed, as if she had signed the letter with the hope that future generations would remember her.

"Sabina Hewitt," I whispered, the name slipping effortlessly from my lips. In that instant, an unexpected connection stirred within me, as if the name wasn't unfamiliar, as though I had heard it before.

I rested my hand on the crisp page, slowly tracing the words she had written. She had created this book with a purpose—ensuring that the knowledge of witchcraft would be passed down, never to be forgotten.

"I wonder if my Grams wrote anything," the thought slipped into my mind and fell from my lips, my curiosity getting the better of me. Suddenly, the book quivered under my hand, making me jerk it away. The pages began to flip rapidly, faster than I could follow, leaving me stunned with my mouth agape.

In just a few seconds, the pages slowed and stopped midway through the book. As I watched the final page flip over, I noticed the familiar handwriting placed on the aged paper—my Grams'.

At the top of the page, an elegant and flowing title adorned the space, reminiscent of the ornate Gothic font.

"To Attract Love," I read the bold title clearly, feeling a mix of shock and excitement. I was amazed that my Grams had created something like this, and even more surprised to discover that we could craft our own spells.

My eyes travelled down the page, noting the ingredients listed on the left side. I mentally checked what we already had on hand. Shifting my gaze to the right side, I saw a description of the spell's purpose, followed by detailed instructions on how to perform it. There was even a full spell written out. I was surprised to learn that spells could actually be performed using words.

"With pink and red, I light the way. Love and passion come today. Rose petals, honey, warmth and light, draw true love into my—"

"No!" My Grams' voice shrieked through the kitchen, making me jump in my seat. She dashed in, grabbing the Book of Shadows and slamming it shut. "How did you find that?!" she demanded; her embarrassment evident.

"You created a love spell?!" I asked, barely containing a chuckle. I'd always known my Grams to be a stickler for rules, so this revelation was quite a surprise.

"Yes," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "When I was eighteen, after reading through the book and discovering that we could create our own spells, I... I wanted a boy to notice me. And, well," she glanced at the book briefly before meeting my eyes again.

"It worked... perhaps too well," she said, my mouth hanging open as a smile slowly spread across my face. Unable to hold it in any longer, I burst into laughter. The embarrassment on her face melted away as she joined me in laughter. "I was wrong to do it," she admitted between chuckles, as our laughter gradually subsided.

"What happened?" I asked, once my laughter had subsided, genuinely curious about the outcome of her spell.

"Well," she began with a thoughtful sigh. "The spell worked exactly as I hoped. He noticed me right away, and before I knew it, he wouldn't leave my side. He kept showing up everywhere I went."

"Magic always comes at a price," I said softly, completing her thought. She nodded in agreement.

"So, I had to reverse the spell," she continued, a chuckle escaping her lips as she reminisced. "He never had a clue. It was as if the whole thing had slipped his mind completely." Her laughter hinted at the spell's effect of erasing his memory of the enchantment.

"There's so much for me to learn," I said, glancing at the Book of Shadows on the table before meeting my Grams' gaze again.

"There certainly is," my Grams replied with a warm, reassuring smile as if the knowledge I would gain might transform everything I knew about the craft.

Let the learning begin...

****************