Magic

.
One Year Ago

Zatanna's father was dying.
No one was quite sure why.  He was weak, tired, and seemed to be getting more frail with each day.  He had the symptoms of old age, but he was barely fifty.

He laid in his bed at home, with Zatanna at his bedside.
"But daddy, why can't we just take you back to the hospital?" Zatanna asked.  "Because, Zatanna," John replied, "I am dying, and there is nothing that can be done.  I might as well die in the comfort of my own home."

Zatanna had somehow known this already.  It had been in her father's voice and eyes for the past week: he knew it was his time.  She guessed that he also knew exactly what it was that was killing him, but he hadn't said a word of it.
Zatanna looked up at her father's friend, Grey Walker, who was visiting.  Mr. Walker was an odd one, as with most of John's friends.  He always wore a dark blue trenchcoat that hung behind him like a cape, with a matching hat that cast a dark shadow over his eyes.  From his neck hung a large golden medallion inscribed with ancient runes and images.
Zatanna looked to him with a pleading expression in her eyes.  But helping her was not his task, he knew.  He was there merely to see his friend safely pass over, and he would be gone again.

"Zatanna, I have something for you..." John said weakly.
He turned his head towards one of the hundreds of books lining his shelves, and spoke words that Zatanna didn't recognize. "Koob fo slleps emoc."
Though the words seemed like gibberish, somehow John made them flow like poetry.
Abruptly, the bookcase on the wall behind Zatanna shuddered a little.  A massively thick brown book gently lifted off its shelf, sliding out from between its companions.  The book floated through the air as if being carried by the wind—but there wasn't the slightest air current in the room.  Zatanna was used to visual trickery, and quickly scanned the area for a clue as to what was happening.  But as she searched, she found nothing.  No hidden wires, no magnetic plates, no air current... nothing.
She looked at Walker once more, but he remained perfectly still, without a single hint of surprise.
The book slowly came to land gently on John's lap.  Zatanna examined it thoroughly.  It was ancient, or so it seemed.  It was covered in dust, and written all over with golden inscriptions.  Zatanna was familiar with all the ancient tongues—Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and the Gaelic tongues—but this was something entirely different.  Ah, but wait, she had found something.  A small section of text on the book's corner, written in Latin.  And another, written in Old English.  As she kept searching, she found that the book was covered in a dozen different ancient languages, including everything from Sumerian cuneiform to Egyptian hieroglyphics.
"This, Zatanna," John said, wheezing, "is our legacy.  Our family history is much deeper than you know; we are descended from a long line of sorcerers."
"Sorcerers?" Zatanna asked incredulously.
"Sorcerers, wizards, magic-users, whatever you like. We are not entirely human, Zatanna. Our blood contains the power of another race: the Homo Magi."
"What? But... what are you talking about?!"
John frowned with pain. "Zatanna, please, I haven't much time left.  Listen to me.  In the bottom drawer of my desk, you'll find a series of documents detailing our inheritance.  Our family fortune and estate will become yours."
"We have a fortune? And an estate?!"
John smiled wide and laughed gently at his daughter's confused reaction. "I wanted to be there when you first saw it, but..."
Suddenly, a small spark of recognition flew through John's eyes.
"It's time, Zatanna.  I love you."
Zatanna felt panic creep into her mind. "I... I love you too, daddy."
John's eyes closed, and he was gone.

Zatanna fell upon her father's body, and sobbed.
A few minutes later, she sat back up.  Walker was still standing there, still not moving a muscle.
Zatanna cleared her mind through the tears.  "Are... are you... like us?"
"No," he said.  His voice had a deep echo.  Whenever he spoke, it sounded to Zatanna like he was speaking through a stone hallway.  "I am not one of the Homo Magi.  I am merely a friend of your father."

"So... what am I supposed to do now?"  Zatanna asked helplessly.
"Your father left you with everything you need to start your own life," Walker said. "Claim your inheritance, and read the book. It will teach you all you need know."
With that, he turned and left.
Zatanna, still working through tears, took the book in her hands.  She unfastened the latch on its side, and opened it.  At the touch of her fingertips, the pages began to glow with a golden light.  Her sadness faded into amazement as the book shone brighter and brighter, filling the room with intense power.  Zatanna felt the book's magic surge through her like soft lightning fused with sunlight.
Then, just as abruptly as the light had started, it began to fade.  The book in her hands was once again a simple book, covered in strange writing.  And, to her further amazement, she could, indeed, read it.

"Woah."