Epilogue
Centuries ago, when witches roamed the earth plentiful, there was a most formidable family by the name of the Darke Family.
Their crest was a terrible display of their power, a fearsome Basilisk entwined with the Dragon. Those who had power, could boast it, however subtly they may have done so. Although their family name and crest were quite fearsome, the family—not all of them mind you—were not. However there were some that let the power go to their heads, and abused it frequently.
This angered the nearby Fairy Queen, and one day when one of the Darkes used magic on one of her own charges, she finally decided enough was enough. Enraged, the Fairy Queen drew the entire Darke family to her court, even the ones who had been innocent and had not abused their magic like others had. So livid was the Queen with what the Darkes had done to one of her charges, she laid down a powerful curse that had not been seen since ancient times. A curse so powerful it would affect every Darke to come in the future until the redemption was completed.
"You have abused your magic far too many times," she began in a great and terrible voice, which was very unlike her normal, soft and kind one.
"As many centuries as it takes, the Darkes shall be stripped of their magic—except for the thirteenth child of every generation." The Darkes all gaped at her, shocked. Some were weeping openly, whilst others were red in the face with anger. Magic was their life after all.
"A curse you had cast upon my charge for your own apparent games—so the thirteenth child shall only have the ability to cast a curse. Until you redeem what you have abused—magic shall be lost to you forever."
So it went, that of every generation of Darkes—one child was born with the ability to cast curses. The mark would appear at the child's temple, a black mark in the shape of a small star. Only curses could be casted—and nothing else. This in itself was a burden, as nothing helpful could come of curses, so it was a burden not only for the child, but their parents. For with this part of the curse—bad luck seemed to reign all around them. It wasn't all too uncommon for one of the thirteenth born to have committed suicide unfortunately, having to pay for the mistake of their ancestors—who never had redeemed themselves.
However even as the number of witches dwindled over the many years that passed, the Darke family line remained in tact—as did the curse.
The thirteenth child of the thirteenth generation has been born, and already she bears the mark of the curse on her temple. This is where out story begins.