"Can you see this?"

Spring inspected her cousin's arm, noticing the tiny wound there. "It's a scratch."

"So, you can see it."

"I think we already cover that base, June. But this could mean anything."

June huffed, exasperated with her cousin.

"I just told you I crossed a portal from another world, in where I was a man, and met a blue dragon. A dragon, Spring! And you still don't believe me."

Spring raised an eyebrow. "That's precisely why I don't believe you. It was just a dream, June."

"That was two hours ago and I haven't gone to bed yet. Or this, us talking, is a dream too?"

Spring combed her wild hair away from her face with her fingers and snorted, and not precisely in a ladylike way. The things her cousin conjured up in that rebel head of hers were unimaginable.

"Of course, it's not a dream, Ladybug." She used the nickname their grandmother gave June as a baby fondly, "but you really have to stop chasing adventures and dangers in every corner you turn. You're even starting to imagine them now, for all I see."

"I promise it's not a dream." June sighed. "Last night, I was writing stories in the book I found in your mother's basement, and I remember clearly that I went to bed and woke up in another world. One that was exactly as the story I wrote."

Spring blinked, unsure if she heard right. "A book in my mother's basement?"

June opened her eyes wide, realizing her mistake a little too late.

"For the love of Eriath, June! Don't you ever learn?" Spring shook her head, exasperated. "Show me the this book you took now."

"I can't." June gulped down, her throat was as dry as the Sahara Dessert, making the task difficult. "I burnt it down."

"You did what?! My mother's magical collection are not toys!"

June was about to open her mouth and excuse herself when a loud nock on the front door stopped her abruptly. She frowned, confused. It was midday in a Sunday, and that meant every Conclave member was either sleeping, training, or tending the field of magical plants -of course, there were those who were secretly conspiring like they were.

"It'll take it," said Spring as she rushed to the door.

June took a deep breath and counted to ten, then let the air out, just like her grandmother taught her every time she was having a panic attack in those first few months after her parents' deaths. She didn't have those anymore, but still used the technique once in a while to calm herself down when the stress got to her.

"Someone left this box in your doorstep with a note."

Spring appeared in front of her, balancing a light middle-sized box against her hip, with a black envelope in the other hand.

June's eyes lighted up. She loved boxes so damn much, they were always mysterious, surprises holders. One of reasons Christmas was her favorite time of the year was because of the thrilling expectation it gave her to open her presents and watching other open theirs.

She grabbed the box greedily from her cousin and placed it by her feet. Snatching the note and ripping open the envelope with the joy only a child should experience, June read the words until a confuse frown wrinkled her face.

"Do not open, bad luck guarantee." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Why would someone send me a box that I can't open?"

Spring snorted.

"It must be someone that hates you enough to wish you bad luck, apparently, because we both know you'll open that box no matter what."

June gave her cousin that look, the one that said 'you know me better than anyone' without words. She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers, the wrapping paper that sealed the box disappeared in a flash and the top opened.

Though elemental magic witches could only make a few material spells, such as unwrapping boxes or washing the dishes without any effort, their magic was stronger than that of any other common witch, because it came from nature itself and its four elements.

She looked inside the box and her heart stopped. Her mind became a flood of emotions and her body tensed in distress.

"What's wrong?" Spring peeked over her cousin's shoulders, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Isn't that Farriah Lenac's Fantasmical book? How the hell did it get here?"

"I-I don't know. I burnt it down."

"You burnt... For Eriath's sake! Did you seriously use a mythical spell book to write teenage fantasy stories?"

June shrugged one of her shoulders. "I didn't see a problem with it. It was already blank."

Spring moaned, tugged at her hair strands, and started pacing back and forwards in the living room.

"This is a freaking mess of epic proportions." She stopped, leveling June with a deadly glare. "Please tell me you only wrote one story in it."

"I... um... wrote six."

"Six?! Seriously?"

June nodded. "Don't you think you're overacting a bit?"

Spring stopped death in her tracks. "I'm overacting? Do you have any idea of what that book can do?" June shook her head in denial. She knew nothing of it before finding it in her aunt's basement, but, if she heard her cousin right a few minutes before, it belonged to their ancestor Farriah Lenac, the founder witch.

Spring sighed.

"Farriah gave this book to her daughter when she was diagnosed with leukemia. Magic couldn't stop the disease that was harvesting inside her daughter's body, but at least it could gift her a few happy couple of years. Her daughter didn't live past her fourteen years and never could ascend to receive her magic from the goddess, so she gave her this book. This diary has the ability of making every word, every story and spell written in it real."

"Oh, shit. It really is a mess of epic proportions."

• • •