ʜɪᴄ ꜱᴠɴᴛ ʟᴇᴏɴᴇꜱ

There was no doubt in her mind anymore. This was her son. Sure, this was not his true body, but it didn't matter. Here he was, standing before her, unable to recognize his own mother. Then again, how could she prove it when her own magic was gone? As those beautiful purple coils wrapped around his hand, she immediately held her hand up, warning him to stop. The last thing she wanted was for him to use his magic against her. She would never forgive herself if she hurt her son.

"Walk walk, walk the road, we walk the winding road,"

Her voice was shaky as she sang, hoping the original lyrics would bring something back to him, anything to help him remember. Slowly, she reached her hand that had been held out up, moving to try and stroke his cheek, wanting so badly to just hear him say that word again.

"Wherever it may bend, I'll be there at the end..."

Agatha watched as he used his powers and - wait. Purple?

Her body froze as she watched him stand, that familiar feeling hitting her like a truck, her finally realizing why he was making her feel this way. If he hadn't used that magic - and god she could feel the familiar spark within it even from a distance - she probably wouldn't have been able to identify just who he was really.

"Nicky?"

But something stopped her.

Frowning a little as she looked at him, Lilia stepped forward, getting herself a little closer. Most people were incredibly easy to read; she knew the kind of character they had, their personalities, the moment they walked through her door, sensing the motivations for the their visits. And whether they deserved a truthful answer or not.

But this boy was different; it was almost like a fog, as though his very core was confused, shrouded in something else.

Blinking a little, unable to understand what it was she was Seeing, Lilia eventually indicated for him to come towards the table.

"Fine," she allowed, reaching for the wall switch in order to put on the main light so she could actually see what she was reading. Whoever the boy was, he was going to have to do without the usual ambiance. "Please, sit." She gestured to the chair.

"But," she added as she took a seat herself, sliding the tap-to-pay forward. "Don't think those puppy dog eyes are going to get you out of paying."

Afterward he folds his hands over one another and huffs, "So, I'm on a journey of self discovery." Nicky starts, hoping he didn't start sounding too crazy. "Because I can't remember anything about my childhood. It's like there's a haze there. No matter how hard I focus or how hard I think, I can't seem to shake it." He furrows his brow in frustration. "Which is why I'm here. Can you divine what's wrong with me?"

Sam Knight? Sure, and she was actually Marie Antoinette. He was lucky he had such a charming personality, otherwise he wouldn't last much longer with her. Crossing her arms, she looked at him, head tilting slightly to examine him further. She knew that wasn't his name, just his body language alone betrayed his lie. Yet...why not play around with it?

"Okay, Sam, you're still not to the point yet. You obviously know who I am, so you know just how dangerous I can be. Let's stop beating around the bush, shall we? What do you want from me?"

The sun had long since set, nothing but darkness and street lights outside the window, and Lilia was tidying up, preparing to lock up for the night, when she heard the chime above the door. Just about to blow out the last of the candles, Lilia turned to see a young boy there, a young man really, standing there with that all too familiar look that said he was in search for answers.

Wasn't everyone who walked through that door?

Fifteen minutes had passed since Nick had parked his car outside of Lilia's shop. Time that had been wasted because he was suddenly anxious. He had met a handful of witches before, his own little coven making up a majority of them. They had taught him that psychics were typically witches in two out of ten cases. Nick was anxious about the prospect and his own muddled past.  What if she saw something awful? What if he had suffered great trauma? That would explain his murky memories. Finally, after gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles had gone white, Nick stepped out of his car. 

As soon as her cameo was mentioned, she grew defensive, almost animalistic in a way as she immediately started to search his body until she found it on him, gripping the object tightly. It was clearly something important to her. She wondered if he had looked inside, seen the lock of hair. No matter, she had it back and that's what mattered most.

"Okay, sure, you broke the spell, big whoop. Still doesn't explain why you're here or who you are."

As much as she had the power over him currently, she lacked that power in the magical department. If this man was a witch, she certainly had the idea to have him blast her to help her restore what Wanda had so cruelly taken away.

"You get untied only after you tell me those things."

Unfortunately for Agatha, her son had inherited her charisma. "I'm actually looking for something—or somewhere, rather. The witches' road? People say you're one of the only witches to survive it." His coven had told him time and time again that the road was a myth. It was nothing but a story passed down from generation to generation, but Nicky was convinced it was real. It had to be. Otherwise he had released a witch killer back into the world for nothing.

At first Agatha couldn't place why the man before her felt so familiar. She had never met him before, never interacted with him, hell, he had broken into her home, and yet now, as he was sitting before her in the closet, mouth taped shut and tied to a chair, she couldn't help but stare, trying to figure out why this feeling was so strong.

After a moment, she stepped forward, ripping the tape off his mouth, looking him up and down again, before waving her hand at him.

Agatha was a lot quicker and stronger than Nick has originally given her credit for. Having to steal a personal item from a witch who was enchanted should have been easy. And it would have been if said enchanted witch wasn't convinced that she was a grizzled detective. Billy Kaplan hadn't mentioned that in their private messages or anywhere in the notebook Nick had stolen. Knocking the kid out to make sure he couldn't interfere with his plans had been cruel but necessary. Nobody was going to stop him from reaching the end of the Witches' Road. Billy had probably broken free and was making his way to Westview, making patience a luxury he couldn't afford. Nick's plan had been going smoothly before being tied up and tossed into a closet.

Breaking Agatha out of her magical prison had been simple. With her locket in hand all he had to do was chant a spell to weaken its grip on her. Nick had plenty of time to mull over his short time with Agatha in the closet. She felt familiar. But she was also an infamous witch who other witches feared or shunned. His own coven had admired her cunning and elusiveness. It was a shame that they weren't witch enough to summon the road. Agatha was rumored to be the only survivor and Nick needed her on his side. If anybody could summon the road it was her.