The Spell

The Childlike Empress, shutting herself in her Ivory Tower, feels nothing. Staring into her eyes makes your heart drift into peaceful numbness. Almost apathetic and callous, she evokes a rather colorless vision for the untrained eye.
Should you dare to look closer, you might be able to devise her entire life in one glimpse of sad resignation. She is not there, she has been left there. It is hard to pin point exactly by whom. There has been a true parade of careless and gutless characters who have come and gone from her domains, and each have left a mark- ethereal yet clear for those who wish to see.

"Will you look?"

The grand door at the entrance of the Tower opens before you. You feel astonished by what you see- an endless row of armed guards jealously protecting her. None must touch.
You walk pass them, they notice your presence and they pay attention to your every move yet remain motionless. Stray but a little and you are likely to be beheaded.
Suddenly, you see her: beautiful, radiant, pure and untarnished. She sees you and gives you the same lovingly sad stare with which she greets everyone.
There is a sense of confusion- she is there as a prisoner of her own desires. As a bird trapped inside a cage with an open door and only one good wing left, she remains passive yet safe. No depleting wind may harm her, but she misses the healing summer breeze. She wants to leave but she can't. She can leave but she doesn't wish to. How should she her life define?

"Talk to her... take her right hand and place it carefully upon your forehead. Let her spell enchant you. Let her fairy glamour do its art". You do as you are told for you are too bewildered to even question who this motherly female voice you are hearing belongs to and whether it is only inside your head or coming from somewhere else. As you do this, you begin to experience her mighty power: a warm light stems from your head. You feel a healing heat coming from her hand, going throughout your entire body and eventually resting in your chest. The light is red and radiant but mild and comforting. As she stares into your soul, you can feel an unknown serenity. You feel at peace and safe. All the walls you had built around your heart start crumbling one by one into thousands of pieces as you give in. Tears flow from your weary eyes and every forgotten ache is acknowledged and cast into oblivion once again. You are now so weak and relaxed that you start falling asleep. But before you do, you step back and shout "Don't! This is all I've got left!". She cries. You are once again in the dark. You have been wounded by a tiny golden dagger.

Wake up. Look at the ceiling of your neat white room. Stare into the nothingness. Was it only a dream? You begin to doubt. "Did I just encounter the one soul who could save me? Did I just refuse it? Did she scar me?". You can find no wound or trace of any injury, not visible at least. You are safe for now, in your bed. You and your burden have managed to escape once again. Your cherished madness is untouched.

The Ivory Tower added a new row of guards. The Childlike Empress cried another pearly tear. 

But who is who? And who's to say this is the last time? Who could claim the victory? And who could say things are as they appear to be? In the end, time changes everything... and time resides in her Ivory Tower.