Magic, Madness and Everything In Between

Chapter 13: Endora

Endora's story

Endora was once a benevolent white witch, but her world crumbled when her cherished younger sister passed away. With her middle sister, Rowena, having returned only to say goodbye, Endora had been completely alone.

As the years passed, the light that once shone within her began to dim, overshadowed by the growing darkness of her pain. The beauty she shared with her sisters faded, leaving behind a reflection marred by her internal turmoil. She became what the world feared most: an embodiment of the darkness that had taken root in her heart, a stark contrast to the radiant being she once was.

Endora had been stewing since her estranged sister Rowena had helped Esme remove the dark magic from her mind she had a plan for her niece and the winchester boys and Rowena had momentarily stopped it so endora had retreated to her home to continue with her evil work.
In the dimly lit spell room, Endora stood alone, save for the scurrying rats that kept her company amidst the dusty furniture and worn carpets. The walls, lined with ancient artefacts and mystical symbols, had witnessed many of her most potent incantations. Yet, this evening was different; a poignant silence filled the space as she prepared to lift the spell which had hidden her from her sister, who may be just as powerful as Endora if not more so.

With a deep breath, Endora raised her arms, the sleeves of her robe falling back to reveal the intricate tattoos of her lineage. Her voice, usually laced with confidence, carried a hint of vulnerability as she spoke the words of the revealing spell. The air crackled with energy, and a soft glow emanated from the runes on her skin.

As the last syllable left her lips, the spell that had cloaked her presence shattered, sending a ripple through the realms.The rats paused in their tracks, sensing the shift in their mistress's aura.

Rowena's sigh echoed through the dimly lit hotel room. The weight of her past choices pressed upon her-choices that had led her down the path of forbidden magic. She had vowed never to wield the darkness again, yet fate had other plans.

Endora, her estranged sister, would come. Rowena could feel it-the surge of power, the gathering storm. And when they faced each other, Rowena knew she would have to draw upon the very forces she had sworn off.

Dark magic was a double-edged sword. It promised power, but at a cost-a piece of one's soul - stained forever. Rowena remembered the incantations whispered in desperation, the taste of bitterness on her tongue. She had used it to protect, avenge, and survive. But it had left scars both visible and hidden.

A few hours later....
Rowena sat in the opulent hotel lobby, the crystal flute of champagne cradled in her hand. The bubbles danced, mirroring the anticipation that swirled within her.

And then it came-the surge. A current of energy that prickled her skin, resonating deep within her bones. Only experienced witches could recognize it-the unmistakable pulse of another's power. Endora. Her estranged sister, the one who had veiled herself in shadows.

Rowena's heart quickened. She had prepared for this moment, but the reality was more potent than any spell. Endora was on her way, drawn by darkness or vengeance-perhaps both.

The lobby's chandeliers flickered, casting fractured rainbows on the marble floor. Rowena's fingers tightened around the champagne flute. She had questions-so many questions.

As the hotel's grand doors swung open, Rowena rose. There, framed by moonlight, stood Endora-a silhouette of power and defiance. Her eyes bore the weight of centuries, and Rowena glimpsed the girl she'd once known-the one who'd whispered secrets under moonlight.

"Endora," Rowena's voice was steady, "you've come."

Endora's laughter echoed, a haunting melody. "Come? No, sister. I've arrived.