~ 10 Years Earlier ~

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Millie whispered to Misty and Markos as the three of them gathered at the top of the stairs.

Downstairs in the living room, their parents, Mary-Beth and Miles Tarby, were seated with Sir Franklin, Lady Katina and Head Assemblyman Thomas Derringer. They huddled close together and spoke in hushed tones. Markos, Misty, and Millie had been given strict orders to stay in their rooms. This was grown-up business and being that they were only 13, 9, and 7 the siblings had no place in the discussion. At least that's what they were told. Markos had other ideas.

"Of course we should be doing this," Markos said with confidence. "She's our sister. We deserve to know what's wrong with her."

"I guess," Millie said, not completely convinced. "I just don't want to get in trouble."

"We're not gonna get in trouble," Misty said as she looked to her brother for reassurance. 

When they were young, there was hardly a time when Misty didn't look to her brother for reassurance. He was there whenever she felt unsure and had an answer for every question she had. When there was a problem, he had a solution. She absolutely adored him and hung on his every word.

 "Right, Markos?" She said. 

"Right," he said. "Even if we do get in trouble it'll be worth it. I mean, who do they think they are keeping secrets from us? We're just supposed to sit back and watch her suffer and not ask questions? They have no right to do this to us. They can't keep the truth from us. The truth doesn't belong to them. The truth doesn't have an owner. The truth belongs to everyone. At least that's the way it should be."

"Markos, you're ranting again," Millie said.

"Sorry," Markos mumbled, although he really wasn't sorry at all.

It had been weeks since Meadow fell ill and not a single thing was said to him or sisters about it. All he knew was that one minute they were playing in their yard and the next Meadow had crumpled to the ground like a delicate flower during a harsh rain. It was three long days filled with agony before she woke up again. Even when she woke, there was no healing. There was no getting better. She only got worse, growing weaker and weaker with each passing day. And they had no idea why. The not knowing drove Markos to the brink of insanity. He needed answers and he wasn't going to sit around and wait for them any longer.

"I gotta get closer," he muttered. "I can't hear a damn thing."

Markos crawled down the stairs until the conversation became clear. Finally, he could hear.

"So," Miles said as he sat on the edge of his seat with his head in his hands. "What's the diagnosis?"

The Assemblymen exchanged glances with one another, none of them willing to be the bearer of bad news. After a heavy silence, it was Lady Katina who bit the bullet and spoke up. 

"Your daughter has what is called Hystopheria. It is a degenerative disorder that dates back to the Salem witch trials. We believe it happens when there is a imbalance of magical energy in the body. You see, a healthy witch has an equal balance between both dark magic and light magic. Although it is extremely rare, a witch can be born with an overabundance of dark magic. The excessive dark magic acts like a parasite and feeds on the body's life force until it is rendered useless." 

"Okay," Miles said as he did his best to process what he was told. It was a lot to take in and to say he was in shock would be a massive understatement. "So what do we need to do to get her better?"

Another round of uncomfortable glances made their way through the room. The Assemblymen could see that Miles was not quite grasping the severity of the situation. 

"Unfortunately Mr. Tarby, no cure has been discovered as of yet," Lady Katina said.

"What? No, no that can't be," Miles said shaking his head. Half of him was still in denial, while the other was fully aware what was happening but was too angry to face it. "That can't be possible. There has to be a cure."

"I understand your frustration, I do. Believe me, we're frustrated too," The Head Assemblyman said in an attempt to take control of the situation. "We've spent countless hours searching every inch of the ancient spell books, but no remedy has ever been found."

"There has to be something we can do," Mary-Beth said softly.

"There is," Sir Franklin quickly added. 

He didn't particularly care for the cold and pessimistic way Lady Katina and the Head Assemblyman had delivered the news to the Tarbys. He felt for them, as he could understand how hard it must have been for them to hear that their daughter was terminally ill. Even though the situation was grim, he wanted to offer them at least a little bit of hope.

"We'll keep looking through the spell books," he said. "Every day if we have to. Eventually, we have to find something."

We'll keep looking?! Markos thought to himself from the stairs. Parasitic dark magic is draining Meadow's life force and all they can think about is the stupid ancient spell books?! We're witches for Chrissake! We have all the magic in the world! Who cares if the cure isn't in the spell books! Make one!

"This is bullshit!" Markos exclaimed as he quickly shot up, not caring one bit if they heard him.

Markos stormed off and went straight to Meadow's room. He whipped open the door, still hot with anger. But the sight of his sickly baby sister made him stop cold. His anger was quickly replaced with a heavy sadness. Her breathing was labored, her face grey and pale, and her hair was matted against the pillow. She turned her head slowly when she heard him come in. She struggled to pull herself up. Her arms were so frail, she could hardly support her weight.

"Hey hey hey," Markos said softly as he rushed to her bedside. "Don't get up. Save your energy, okay?"

Meadow gave a weak smile and let herself fall back on her bed. As much as she wanted to be present and engaged with her brother, she was relieved to be able to lay back down. She was exhausted and every move she made filled her with pain.

"How are you doing?" he whispered as he brushed away her hair from her face.

"I'm good," she lied. 

"Yeah?" Markos said.

He wanted so badly to believe her, but in his heart he knew how much she was suffering and that she was only trying not to worry him. 

"Yeah," she said. "I'll be okay."

"I know you will," he said.

His voice was on the verge of breaking. How could he look his sister in the eyes and tell her she'll be okay, knowing what he knew? But at the same time, how do you tell a five year old girl that she's dying? He had no good options. There was nothing he could say to her that would make this all okay. And it tore his heart to pieces. 

Before Markos could say anymore, the door crept open as Mary-Beth and Miles slid into Meadow's room.

"Markos, sweetie," Mary-Beth said as she ran her fingers through his uncombed hair. "Why don't you go to your room. I'll bring you some hot cocoa with cayenne pepper and marshmallows. I know it's your favorite."

"No thanks," Markos said coldly, pulling away from his mother's gentle touch.

Mary-Beth and Miles exchanged worried glances. Miles took a deep breath, knowing it was his turn to give it a try.

"Hey, bud," he said. "I think your sister needs some rest."

"She can rest with me here," he said.

"We just think it'd be better if-"

"Can he please stay?" Meadow piped up. 

Her voice  was so soft and fragile that it was barely audible, but the message was one that could not be ignored. Mary-Beth and Miles looked to each other once more, but they knew they didn't have it in their heart to send her brother away.  

"You know where to find us if you need us," Mary-Beth said before she and Miles slipped out into the hall.

As soon as the door closed, Mary-Beth turned to her husband with worry in her eyes.

"What are we going to do?" she asked him.

Miles sighed heavily and shook his head. 

"Whatever we have to."