Reflecting on the scene of young Lilia in a gown the color of goldenrods in bloom and sunshine, racing to meet her teacher and begin learning what it is to be a witch. Learning what would have been the end, her end, was heartbreaking yet healing. She was full of anticipation and ambition and life, before the weight of prosecution, guilt for having predicted and watched her coven die, and having to bury her magic (once her source of power) became known. When she stays behind to trap the Salem Seven, she tells Jen with more love and conviction that she has spoken in the entire show:
Lilia finally realizes her path, steps and accepts what it means to know herself. To practice witchcraft, as proved in the trial by reading her own tarot instead of Billy’s, divination is not only more than kooky sector of the craft, but an act of her agency. An extension of herself. She can relinquish guilt and shame, but doesn’t grieve, despite only realizing this when her time seems to be running out. After all,
“The flow of time is an illusion”
When Lilia let go of the table in the trial room, falling in a gown evoking a character who represents all things good and dressed once again as a queen of cups, she is floating, flying. She is more than a batty woman. She is a cunning witch, and she always will be. So, while Death is guaranteed, it is not the end. That’s why the end of the episode is the earliest we see young Lilia. Her life is a tapestry, not a timeline. The cycle repeats and life goes on, as her mentor says:
ellievsbear
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
titsay
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kaledo-art
turnnoffyourmind
