Spells, Strings, and Forgotten Things Summary, Characters and Themes

Spells, Strings, and Forgotten Things by Breanne Randall is a fantasy novel that explores the weight of memory, the strength of sisterhood, and the deep cost of power.  At the heart of the story is Calliope Petridi, a young witch caught between ancestral magic, family duty, and a haunting personal past.

The narrative is steeped in generational curses, emotional reckoning, and the tension between two opposing forms of magic: Lightcraft and Shadowcraft.  Through Calliope’s journey, readers are invited into a world where magic comes at a price—often the very memories that define us—and where love and sacrifice are intimately bound. Randall’s tale is as much about healing familial wounds as it is about stopping a magical catastrophe.

Summary

Calliope Petridi has always carried the burden of being the youngest of three magical sisters.  Fifteen years ago, her mother Penelope vanished under mysterious circumstances, warning her daughters to avoid the cursed Dark Oak and never trust a Shadowcrafter.

Since then, the Petridi sisters have dealt with the fallout in different ways: Thalia renounced magic entirely, Eurydice (nicknamed Dissy) treaded cautiously around it, while Calliope immersed herself in its mysteries, guided by their sentient family grimoire, Grim.  The cost of her magic, however, has been steep—each spell she casts requires a sacrifice of her memories.

Now twenty-five, Calliope begins to experience disturbing omens: a dream that leaves a physical burn, whispering voices, and an unsettling tarot reading.  These events signal the reawakening of the Dark Oak, an ancient magical entity bound by the very enchantments the Petridi line has long protected.

Determined to investigate, Calliope journeys into the forest and attempts to repair the unraveling magical barriers.  Instead, she unintentionally unleashes a black fog and binds herself to Lucien Deniz, a powerful Shadowcrafter.

This magical tether threatens her connection to her sisters and destabilizes their collective magic.

Lucien’s appearance in Gold Springs complicates matters.  Though he initially infiltrates the town under false pretenses as part of a Shadowcraft coven’s mission to unravel the Dark Oak’s protections, his bond with Calliope begins to alter his priorities.

The connection between them—both magical and emotional—grows more entangled as their opposing forms of magic clash and blend.  Meanwhile, Grim warns that the sisters’ enchantments are deteriorating and that Lucien must assist in severing the bond to preserve their family legacy.

Tensions rise as Calliope’s guilt, secrecy, and the magical imbalance lead to a fire near the forest, sparking a confrontation with her sisters.  Thalia reacts with anger, while Dissy urges understanding.

Their disagreement is cut short when Calliope narrowly avoids a magically-induced accident, saved only by Lucien’s intervention.  Grim insists they work together.

A family dinner brings Lucien into their home, and he reveals a believable backstory for his presence.  Still, the truth emerges: the Petridi enchantments are rooted in an ancestral curse born of betrayal.

Alexia Petridi, an ancestor, once fell in love with a Shadowcrafter who betrayed her, leading to a vengeance-fueled magical upheaval that birthed the Dark Oak.

The sisters and Lucien realize they must find a way to untangle this generational legacy before it destroys them.  Lucien is further tested by internal conflict.

His coven—led by the zealous Malik and composed of figures like the sharp Sarai, loyal Feng, and scholarly Luna—wants to seize control of the Dark Oak.  Yet Lucien’s feelings for Calliope, along with his loyalty to his ailing sister Elèa, threaten to derail their plans.

Calliope and Lucien’s bond intensifies when they face a magical possession: her ex-girlfriend Marigold is overtaken by shadows, and the two must combine their abilities to save her.

As the equinox approaches, joy briefly returns when their aunt Roz visits, lightening their spirits with memories, music, and laughter.  But the levity is shattered at the Moonlight Masquerade, a town celebration that descends into chaos.

Violent weather and supernatural interference lead to Roz’s death.  Her body is found marked by shadows, a tarot card clutched in her hand.

Devastated, the sisters retreat into grief.  Calliope collapses under the emotional weight, unable to eat, speak, or cast.

When Lucien visits her, she lashes out.  Rather than retaliate, he comforts her, and though the moment is intimate, he refuses to take advantage of her vulnerability.

Instead, he assures her of his presence and respect.

In the aftermath, Calliope begins to move through her grief.  She reconnects with her community, lets go of her lingering feelings for Marigold, and resolves to protect her sisters.

A visit to Lucien’s home introduces her to Elèa, whose tragic past—an illness caused by magical experimentation—exposes Lucien’s darkest secret: he killed their grandfather to protect Elèa.  Elèa urges Calliope to stop Lucien from going too far in trying to save her.

Thalia and Grim, now partially revealed to be Daphne—the sisters’ aunt—uncover the final truth of the curse.  Only three magical Petridi sisters can exist at one time.

Each new awakening dooms one of the older generation.  Penelope had tried to defy this fate, fusing Daphne’s soul with the grimoire and turning Roz into a guardian.

The weight of this knowledge galvanizes Calliope, who proposes using the Dark Oak’s power themselves rather than letting it fall into the hands of Shadowcrafters.  Thalia and Lucien agree, and together they plan to trick Ahmed, the coven’s true leader, into releasing Elèa in exchange for the sisters.

In a climactic confrontation at the Forgotten Forest, the sisters feign surrender, break free, and confront their foes.  Lucien and Sarai provide cover.

After rescuing Elèa, the Petridi sisters unleash their full magical potential to shatter the final enchantments.  During the spell, Calliope sacrifices an unknowable part of herself.

As the Dark Oak unseals, it reveals the origin of the curse: Isra, a Shadowcrafter betrayed by her Lightcraft half-sisters, whose grief and anger cursed the family line.  Rather than destroy, the sisters choose unity.

They merge Light and Shadow, drawing on both heritages to heal rather than punish.  The curse lifts, Ahmed is banished, and the Dark Oak is restored to a place of balance.

In the final chapter, Calliope finds herself unable to remember Lucien—her sacrifice erasing their love.  But Lucien returns with her own words, a record of their story, giving her a chance to remember and feel again.

Though her love is not restored, she acknowledges the truth of their connection and invites him to try once more.  As life in Gold Springs settles, the sisters reopen Tea and Tome and step into a future free from the chains of the past.

Calliope embraces the magic, love, and mystery that once terrified her, ready to write a new story built on freedom, not fear.

Characters

Calliope Petridi

Calliope stands as the passionate heart of Spells Strings and Forgotten Things, driven by love, guilt, and an unwavering commitment to her family and legacy.  From the outset, she is portrayed as a deeply complex and emotionally layered protagonist, whose childhood discovery of the sentient grimoire “Grim” set her apart from her sisters.

Unlike Thalia, who rejected magic, and Eurydice, who feared it, Calliope embraced it—at great personal cost.  She sacrifices her memories to power her Lightcraft magic, a process that symbolizes her gradual erosion of self in exchange for protection.

This sacrifice speaks to her deep sense of duty and loneliness, stemming from the abandonment by her mother Penelope.  Calliope is haunted by unanswered questions and the pressure of guarding her family’s legacy, which drives her to recklessness and secret-keeping.

Her emotional journey is further complicated by the fateful bond she forms with Lucien Deniz.  This tie forces her to confront the duality of Light and Shadow magic, and the emotional entanglements that accompany it.

As the novel progresses, she evolves from a guilt-ridden, impulsive young woman into a resilient leader who learns to make peace with her grief, acknowledge her feelings, and embrace the possibility of love—even if it means letting go of what was once sacrificed.

Lucien Deniz

Lucien Deniz is an enigmatic figure whose role as a Shadowcrafter is initially synonymous with danger and deceit.  Yet, as the story deepens, Lucien emerges as a man torn between duty, guilt, and love.

Raised in a coven bent on undoing the Petridi enchantments, Lucien was trained to be manipulative and lethal.  However, his bond with Calliope unveils a reluctant vulnerability, complicating his loyalty to his coven.

He is not merely a villain or a romantic foil—he is a man burdened by a traumatic past, having killed his own grandfather to save his sister Elèa from magical experimentation.  Lucien’s struggle lies in balancing his need for control with the pull of his emotions, particularly his growing affection for Calliope.

He resists this bond initially, fearing its consequences, but eventually comes to accept and even cherish it.  When he returns to the coven and asserts dominance in the wake of Roz’s death, he reclaims his agency not as a servant of shadow but as a protector—of his sister, of Calliope, and of the fragile future they all share.

His arc concludes on a tragic yet hopeful note, as he sacrifices his place in Calliope’s memories and then patiently reintroduces himself, embodying the book’s central theme of love persisting through loss.

Thalia Petridi

Thalia, the eldest Petridi sister, is a pragmatic and fiercely protective figure whose relationship with magic is marked by rejection and resentment.  Scarred by the loss of their mother and fearful of the cost of their family’s legacy, Thalia renounces magic and clings to order, structure, and rationality.

Her role as the family’s anchor is tested as Calliope’s secret-keeping and reckless decisions unravel the delicate threads of their bond.  Yet beneath Thalia’s rigidity lies deep love and loyalty.

Her anger stems from a place of vulnerability, and her eventual willingness to forgive and fight alongside her sisters marks a critical turning point.  When she agrees to take part in breaking the curse, it’s not only a strategic decision—it’s a spiritual one, allowing her to embrace the part of herself she’s long repressed.

By the end, Thalia’s evolution mirrors Calliope’s, as both women confront grief and learn to act not out of fear but out of hope and trust.

Eurydice “Dissy” Petridi

Eurydice, affectionately known as Dissy, is the most emotionally intuitive of the Petridi sisters.  She is a gentle soul, often caught in the crossfire between Thalia’s skepticism and Calliope’s impulsivity.

Dissy is defined by her empathy and longing for harmony, and while she approaches magic with timidity, she never fully turns away from it.  Her willingness to understand and forgive makes her a pivotal emotional bridge in the family, and it’s her self-sacrifice—giving herself over to save the others—that underscores her courage and depth.

Dissy is not naïve; she understands the cost of magic better than most.  Her actions in the climax solidify her as a quiet hero, willing to fade into shadow if it means her sisters can live.

Her eventual return—made possible by the breaking of the curse—serves as a symbol of redemption and healing, affirming the enduring strength of the Petridi bond.

Roz Petridi

Roz, the sisters’ eccentric and spirited aunt, brings levity, warmth, and emotional grounding to the story.  Though she plays the role of caretaker and comic relief, Roz carries deep knowledge of the family’s magical past and was instrumental in raising the sisters after Penelope’s disappearance.

Her unexpected ability to wield magic—once believed lost—acts as a turning point in the narrative, revealing that Penelope and Daphne may still be alive.  Roz’s death, sudden and violent, becomes the emotional low point of the story.

Her loss devastates the sisters, especially Calliope, whose grief nearly consumes her.  Yet even in death, Roz’s presence is felt: in the legacy she leaves behind, in the lessons she imparted, and in the new hope that rises from her absence.

Roz represents joy and sacrifice in equal measure—a reminder that love and loss are intertwined.

Daphne Petridi / Grim

Daphne, Calliope’s aunt and once the fourth Petridi sister, exists throughout the novel as “Grim,” the sentient grimoire.  Her transformation into the book is a profound act of sacrifice, taken to protect her family and shield them from the deadly curse that limits their magical lineage to three.

As Grim, she is sardonic, sharp, and deeply protective of Calliope, often acting as both guide and guardian.  When her true identity is revealed, Daphne becomes a tragic figure—one who gave up her humanity for the sake of others.

Her return to personhood in the final chapters allows her to reconcile with her family, particularly Thalia and Calliope, and offer essential knowledge that catalyzes the resolution.  Daphne’s arc is one of silent suffering, reclaimed identity, and the redemption that comes from truth.

Elèa Deniz

Elèa, Lucien’s ailing younger sister, is a figure of quiet resilience.  Her charm, humor, and honesty offer a mirror to Calliope’s own fears and vulnerabilities.

Elèa’s illness, caused by unethical magical experiments, becomes the driving force behind Lucien’s quest, lending depth and humanity to his character.  Despite her frailty, Elèa exerts influence over the story’s direction—urging Lucien to do what’s right, calling out his flaws, and trusting Calliope as an ally.

She recognizes that Lucien’s love for Calliope is both a danger and a salvation, and her wisdom helps guide them toward reconciliation.  Elèa represents the next generation of magical integration—a symbol of possibility born from pain.

Penelope Petridi

Though largely absent from the narrative, Penelope looms large over her daughters’ lives.  Her mysterious departure set the events of the story in motion, and her cryptic warnings form the foundation of the sisters’ magical caution.

When her full backstory is revealed—her attempt to break the curse by fusing Daphne with the grimoire and transforming Roz—it reframes her actions not as abandonment, but as a mother’s desperate act of protection.  Penelope is ultimately a figure of tragic heroism, whose love and sacrifice extend far beyond what her daughters initially understood.

Her spirit, invoked in the final ritual, becomes a source of strength and resolution.

Ahmed

Ahmed serves as the primary antagonist in the latter half of the novel, embodying the ruthless ambition of the Shadowcraft coven.  Unlike Lucien, who begins to question the morality of his coven’s goals, Ahmed is resolute in his desire for power.

His manipulations, his disregard for life, and his role in orchestrating Roz’s death and the breaking of the enchantments position him as a formidable and detestable foe.  He is ultimately defeated not by brute force, but by the unification of Light and Shadow—the very balance he sought to destroy.

His banishment marks the end of the coven’s tyranny and the beginning of a new magical era.

Malik, Sarai, Feng, and Luna

These secondary members of Lucien’s coven offer various shades of loyalty, danger, and complexity.  Malik, once Lucien’s friend, represents the seductive zeal of dark magic unchecked by empathy.

His confrontations with Lucien reveal the stakes of moral compromise.  Sarai, skilled and deadly, remains loyal to Lucien even as she doubts the bond with Calliope.

Feng and Luna, though less explored, add depth to the coven’s dynamics—Feng as a quiet prodigy willing to follow orders, and Luna as a scholar haunted by the implications of their actions.  Together, they represent the tensions within the coven and the possibility of change through confrontation.

Themes

Memory and Identity

The act of sacrificing memories in Spells Strings and Forgotten Things becomes both a literal and symbolic exploration of identity.  Calliope’s magic demands she relinquish cherished fragments of her past, and as those pieces disappear, so too do parts of her emotional makeup.

Her relationship with magic is marked by these acts of erasure, each one distancing her from the experiences and people who shaped her.  The emotional weight of this loss is not treated as incidental; it creates profound internal conflict, where Calliope often finds herself questioning what she’s given up and what remains of her true self.

This theme becomes increasingly urgent as the story unfolds, especially when Calliope is forced to confront the irretrievable aspects of her bond with Lucien.  By the end, when she must read her own words to remember the man she loved, it emphasizes that memory is not just a record of love—it is the foundation of it.

Identity is revealed to be mutable but deeply tied to emotional continuity.  Without memory, recognition falters, and with it, emotional depth becomes fragile.

However, the novel also suggests that while memory loss can sever emotional ties, it doesn’t make healing or reconnection impossible.  Rather, it invites reinvention.

Calliope’s journey shows that although her memory has been altered, the truth of her identity persists through choices, written testimonies, and the quiet resilience to begin again.  The theme ultimately insists that memory may shape identity, but it does not wholly define it.

One can still reclaim selfhood, even through the gaps.

Sisterhood and Generational Trauma

The Petridi sisters’ bond is the emotional spine of the narrative, strained by secrets, grief, and magical inheritance but ultimately unbreakable.  Their shared history is haunted by the generational curse that dictates their fates: only three magical sisters can exist at any given time.

This knowledge turns their love into a battlefield of protection, fear, and resignation.  Penelope’s disappearance, Roz’s death, and Daphne’s transformation into Grim are not simply tragic occurrences; they are emblematic of a larger pattern in which love is entangled with loss.

The sisters navigate their roles within this painful legacy—Thalia as the skeptic, Dissy as the mediator, and Calliope as the bearer of risk—and their dynamic evolves with the mounting pressures of their inherited destiny.  The presence of the ancestral witches and the curse imposed by Isra reflects the perpetuation of trauma across generations, where unresolved betrayal and rage echo into the present.

However, rather than remaining trapped in this cycle, the Petridis strive toward healing.  Their final acts—sacrificing memories, risking death, and choosing unity—represent a conscious break from the patterns of pain.

The novel treats sisterhood not just as familial affection, but as a radical act of defiance against history.  It is through this intimate bond that the sisters refuse to be passive vessels of suffering.

The eventual reconciliation, especially with Daphne and the legacy of their mother, marks a profound reclamation of agency.  This theme illustrates that while generational trauma can dictate the terms of existence, solidarity and love can rewrite its conclusion.

Power and Sacrifice

Power in Spells Strings and Forgotten Things is never portrayed as clean or without consequence.  Whether it’s the light of the Petridi sisters’ magic or the darkness of Shadowcraft, the use of power comes at a price.

For Calliope, that price is often memory; for Lucien, it’s the erosion of soul and identity.  The costliness of power underscores the moral complexity of magical decision-making.

Characters are forced to weigh their values against immediate needs—safety versus truth, love versus survival, sacrifice versus control.  This theme is most evident in Calliope’s trajectory: from a young woman who uses magic for control and preservation, to one who understands that true strength lies in knowing when to relinquish.

The use of power becomes most redemptive when it is shared—when the sisters unite with defectors from the Shadowcraft coven and draw on both darkness and light.  Sacrifice is recast not as an individual act of martyrdom but as a collective willingness to absorb loss for the sake of transformation.

Even Lucien, who begins with calculated motives, ultimately understands that wielding magic selfishly leads to ruin.  The novel resists easy distinctions between good and evil magic, suggesting instead that the intention and cost behind power is what defines its impact.

The breaking of the curse is made possible not by domination, but by the sacrifice of memory, ego, and vengeance.  In the end, the story insists that power must be accompanied by humility, and sacrifice must be rooted in love, not obligation or guilt.

Love, Loss, and the Possibility of Renewal

Romantic love in the novel does not exist in a vacuum of sentimentality.  Instead, it is filtered through grief, betrayal, and the messy work of choosing one another again and again.

Calliope’s connection with Lucien begins under coercive magical circumstances, burdened by mistrust and fear.  Yet as they confront darkness together, their bond matures into something more sincere—built on mutual vulnerability, honesty, and shared pain.

Their intimacy, forged in moments of profound loss, becomes a salve for old wounds.  The novel explores love not as instant salvation, but as a relationship shaped through choices made in the aftermath of devastation.

When Calliope forgets Lucien after the ritual, it underscores the fragility of love bound to memory.  But even stripped of that context, Lucien offers her the story of their connection—a symbol of hope that love can be rediscovered and built again.

Parallel to this romantic narrative is the equally resonant love shared between family members.  Calliope’s mourning of Roz, reconciliation with her sisters, and forgiveness of her mother’s choices illustrate that grief does not eclipse love, but transforms it.

In embracing both memory and forgetting, the characters demonstrate that loss is not an end.  The possibility of renewal—whether in romance, family, or self—is always within reach.

This theme insists on the power of choice, especially when rebuilding what was lost.  Renewal is not presented as erasure of pain but as a way of holding it, learning from it, and moving forward with purpose and compassion.

Light and Shadow as Moral Duality

Throughout Spells Strings and Forgotten Things, the opposing magical forces of Lightcraft and Shadowcraft serve as more than systems of spellcasting—they symbolize the tension between moral clarity and ambiguity.  Initially, Lightcraft is portrayed as benevolent, nature-bound, and memory-linked, while Shadowcraft is viewed with suspicion, associated with death, soul manipulation, and destructive force.

However, this dichotomy is gradually challenged as characters confront the ethical implications of both.  Lucien, a Shadowcrafter, possesses compassion and restraint, while some Lightcrafters—including historical figures like the Petridi ancestors—have committed terrible acts in the name of justice.

This blurring of moral boundaries questions whether darkness is inherently evil or if it merely reflects the parts of human nature society wishes to suppress.  The eventual synthesis of Light and Shadow during the final confrontation at the Dark Oak reveals that strength lies not in purity but in balance.

The healing of the curse and the redemption of the tree come only when the sisters and their allies embrace both aspects of magic.  By doing so, they acknowledge the duality within themselves—their rage and love, their grief and joy, their hope and despair.

This theme emphasizes that moral growth stems not from denying shadow but from integrating it.  Ethical maturity, the novel suggests, involves recognizing that even righteous acts can cause harm, and that darkness can be channeled toward justice when guided by empathy.

The story ultimately redefines magical polarity as a spectrum, with redemption possible only through coexistence, not domination.