Spelled and Mindless

Eleanor peeked around the corner of the palace's stone hall and gasped. She felt absolute rage at her mother for telling such a lie. There was no strange aura or mist. There was no woman with robes of satin and gold. Just two wooden doors were being guarded by two of her spelled family members. Eleanor shrank down along the wall and sobbed. It was hopeless. She would never be able to prevent the kingdom from being overrun by its spelled citizens.

"Hark! Who goes there?" One of the guards, her father, fixed the holding on his spear. He turned to her aunt. "Hear that, Milan?"

"No," her mother's sister replied, tossing her silver hair back. Her face bore no wrinkles, as a blessing from the sorceress of light and life. "But have I will, I shall notify thy at once, my dearest."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Eleanor whispered to herself. "The spell... it's taken over them. The first sign of the Mindless... loss of personal accent." She decided that then she had to risk it and run into one of the rooms. How to do it, she wasn't sure, but a life-or-death situation awaited her as she thought up a storm.

"Henri!" Eleanor called suddenly. "Milan!" Her family members slid their weapons out and scanned the premises.

"Show yourself, intruder!" Milan growled, her freshly sharpened sword slicing the air as she spoke.

"Come out now, and we will leave you unscathed and give you the privilege of serving our beloved king and queen! That is if we don't kill you like a dog first!" snarled Henri. Their Mindless accent had faded because of Eleanor's outburst, sliding into the last part of their minds that wasn't blocked out by the curse that she was their beloved daughter and was not to be harmed no matter what.

Eleanor dashed out from the corridor and kicked open the door on the right, guarded by her aunt. It was made of dry, brown wood that broke down as soon as she rushed into it. Milan's sword caught a lock of her violet hair on her sword and nicked a bit of her ear in Eleanor's attempt to escape.

A black void surrounded her and only a small, golden aura light up the area, although Eleanor couldn't figure out where it came from. Thinking that the sorceress of life was nearby, she moved forward slowly, her bare feet gently slapping the black void beneath her. She gently knelt.

"O creator of life and spirit, where hast thou reside in this empty room, devoid of life or light? Thou bestowed a blessing on thy Aunt Milan, and I plead for help during this immediate time of crisis." Eleanor recited an old chant that caused the sorceress to appear to others, hopefully, in this same room.

Sure enough, a woman floated into the vicinity. She wore a satin and golden gown and grasped a vivid-colored caduceus, the staff of Hermes. Her purple hair flowed and hovered inches over the floor. The mythological and legendary sorceress lifted Eleanor's chin ever so slightly so that she stared into the woman's sharp, crystal blue eyes piercing the irises of Eleanor's ones.

"Yes, child?" her velvety voice coated Eleanor's insides and forced her to stand up. Reaching the sorceress's elbows, she explained that people of what once was a proud kingdom had been placed under a curse that allowed the person who cast the spell able to control everybody that they touched both of their shoulder blades at the corresponding moment. Then they acquired the name, Mindless.

"You say you require my services, Eleanora?"

Eleanor reddened. "Eleanora is- was my mother. She died when I was at least ten years old, and that was before the spell took place three years later," She confessed.

The woman looked at her sympathetically. "I met your mother. She was a kind and pure heart, never thinking of herself, instead of others" she commented. "She came here with you to see her child's truthfulness, purity, and honesty. Of course, you had spectacular results. She was determined to protect you more than ever from the danger of the forces of evil."

"But... can you help me with the curse?" Eleanor asked, half wishing that the woman would stop talking about the personal stuff in her life.

She shook her head. "No, I cannot."

"Bu-bu-bu-but why?" she worried.

"Because... I am you."

Eleanor fell back onto the hard, black void. It couldn't be true! She would have felt some sort of spiritual relationship with the celebrated sorceress who saved people's lives and cured plagues on a daily basis, instead of greeting her like a complete stranger who could kill her on a whim.

"But... if you are me... then how did you meet my mother?" Eleanor questioned, suspecting that the sorceress was lying and was actually an adversary observer in search of a juicy story to reveal to the public about anything that would bring the morals of the few remaining survivors down to the point of surrender and betrayal.

"I never told anyone about this before, but I am not just a mere sorceress. Sorceresses and sorcerers have a further unrestricted lifespan, but they are not immortal. I am a demigoddess. My father-your father- was a mere mortal, while our mother was an accomplished goddess. Eleanor is what many people call me, for I bring light to mortals who have experienced the anguish of wickedness for too long," Eleanor the Goddess confirmed.

Eleanor's body formed a lump in her windpipe as she thought about the hopeless, sullen moments when Goddess Light, also known now as Eleanor the Goddess, had followers that cursed and shunned her powers and shuddered at the mention of her name so much that they torched her alter, and those who had died several days later, bringing up a generation of destructive descendants of the followers that caused the torching. No, she couldn't believe it. She was not a goddess. She was just ridiculous, proposing that explanation.

"I refuse to accept your pitiful misrepresentation," Eleanor cast her shoulders backward and elevated her head in insubordination.

Eleanor the Goddess nodded slowly. "Yes, I understand. I cannot annihilate you, for that would mean my own passing, but you must get rejected of me... for I am the one who placed that spell and made your life into a breathing nightmare and horror fiction."

Eleanor gasped and noticed the goddess's hand gripped a dagger. An ensorcelled dagger. The weapon and the goddess are what was causing the powerful atmosphere that had lightened up the room. Suddenly, it appeared in her hand, and it pulled like a magnetic force to the goddess's, her counterpart's, heart. Before she knew what was happening, blood started trickling from Goddess Light's chest.

As soon as she destroyed Eleanor the Goddess, the hollow void melted into the exhibition where Eleanor had fallen into the place where she had met her counterpart held the same room, but the doors were gone, and in their location was Milan and Henri, unspelled and leaned overhead her, observing her for any noticeable injuries or damages.

"Nora, honey, are you alright?" Henri worried, whispering words in an extremely discouraging deep voice.

"Ella, what occurred back in that vacancy?" Milan asked.

There was nothing that Eleanor could do but sob and mourn the death of her counterpart.