𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 .

@timewlnds

It had only been a week since the events that took the makeshift coven down a Road that wasn't supposed to be real, and all but Alice and Mrs. Hart made it out. Agatha had been struggling with everything since then, and surprisingly found herself at Lilia's door. In a way, the woman had started to feel like a mother to her, the way her own never had.

When the familiar face opened the door, Agatha raised her hand in front of the other's face, trying to keep her from saying anything. She didn't need any snide remarks right now. She just needed someone who could understand that the Road and her encounter with Rio had brought some deep feelings up. Feelings she didn't like.

"Just let me in."

𝐀  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐇𝐀𝐃  𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓  𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍  to  a  lifetime.  the  minutes  dragged  into  hours  which  in  turn  crawled  into  days.  &  truthfully,  she  was  still  processing  everything  that  had  happened  down  there.  that  fact  that  she  was  𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄  was  a  miracle  in  &  of  itself.  she'd  fallen,  willingly  fallen  to  her  supposed  death,  giving  her  coven  a  chance  to  𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞   —   instead  no  blade  had  greeted  her.  only  the  cold,  damp  air  of  westview  as  she  crawled  back  to  the  surface.  &  whilst  her  mind  was  far  more  at  peace  than  it  had  been  in  𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬,  something  continued  to  feel  off.  perhaps  it  was  the  fresh  trauma  or  perhaps  it  was  merely  the  𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬  𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧  𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬  of  trauma  she  had  yet  to  deal  with  previously. 

her  shop  had  been  closed  since  she'd  left  that  afternoon  for  the  road,  so  the  knocking  at  her  door  had  torn  her  from  the  deep  recesses  of  her  mind,  only  to  find  agatha  harkness,  herself  standing  there.  &  no  comment  was  made  upon  her  𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭,  simply  stepping  aside  &  allowing  the  other  inside.   ❛   what  are  you  doing  here,  agatha  ?   ❜   question  came  with  far  𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫  tones  than  had  greeted  the  other  witch  the  last  time  they'd  found  themselves  in  this  particular  situation. 

the road had made her eyeliner run more times than she would have wanted and they weren’t even close to being done with its many twists and trials. ❛ well, for what is worth, i’d be honored to count you as part of my CHOSEN FAMILY… ❜ she said, wiping a dark tear from her cheek. the protection witch then placed a hand on the other woman’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. ❛ …beyond the road, but only if that's something you think you might want. ❜

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘.  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃  was  almost  foreign  to  the  divination  witch  now.  &  it  wasn't  that  she  didn't  wish  for  one,  she'd  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝  her  family,  her  former  coven,  it's  that's  reason  she  kept  away  from  finding  another.  losing  them  had  hurt  her  in  ways  that  she  was  still  yet  to  𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑  &  she  wasn't  certain  she  could  face  that  again.  alas,  this  small  group  of  covenless  witches  was  pulling  her  in  the  longer  they  were  on  the  road.  𝐚  𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝  𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲   —   one  that  lilia  was  finding  it  harder  &  harder  to  keep  her  emotional  distance  from   (   even  agatha  had  wormed  her  way  closer  in  a  way  that  even  she  hadn't  seen  coming.  )

❛   oh,  alice,   ❜   words  were  barely  above  a  whisper,  almost  inaudible  above  the  crackling  of  the  fire,  but  they  were  heavy  with  the  𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  that  she  hadn't  allowed  herself  to  feel  for  𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.  &  in  turn,  her  own  hand  rose,  coming  to  a  rest  atop  the  one  placed  against  her  shoulder,  watery  smile  finding  her  countenance.  ❛   i   —    well,  i  believe  that  it'd  be  me  who'd  be  honoured  for  you  to  consider  me  such,   ❜   she  continued  finally,  blinking  away  the  tears  that  stung  her  own  dark  gaze.      

We're so light-footed we could dance on eggs

𝐀  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓  𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇  ‚   gaze  rising.  ❛   but asking  questions  IS  how  people  learn,  ❜   lilia   began,  a masked  𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  lacing  through  her  tones as she spoke.  ❛   not  one  person  alive  knows  everything,  no  matter  how  𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥  they  claim  to  be.   ❜

AGATHA KNEW DEATH LONG BEFORE IT WORE THE FORM OF RIO VIDAL. salem in the 17th century was rife with it: fever, the childbed, witch trials. she recognizes the look of someone who has seen it firsthand. with lilia's age, it's only expected ― one cannot be a witch well into your prime and not witness those who fall around them. but it's the tune of sorrow in her voice that knocks something loose inside her chest, already teetering from those who have fallen in such a short time. it's ridden with guilt. piece by piece, the mystery of lilia calderu is unraveling before them and agatha finds that it settles a little too close to home.

memory can keep people alive, letting them haunt you forever. a stinging shard of glass you hold onto just to feel close to them. in lilia's case, a shattered mosaic or stained glass window. agatha's hands twist together, grappling with the discomforting familiarity of it in the dwindling embers of the fire. “ sometimes, the horror is all we have left. ” her voice dips softer than she intends, a beat of quiet contemplation holding her gaze somewhere beyond the other witch ― and then it hardens just slightly, her words finding strong pillars whilst she flourishes the stick pinched in her fingers in lilia's direction. “ but surviving is not something we feel guilty for. ”

&,  𝐎𝐇,  𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑  still haunted  her.  every  time  she  closed  her  eyes  a  different  would  replay,  never  allowing  her  to  𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭  it.  the  curse  of  a  long  life  or  the  curse  of  being  a  witch,  both  of  which  had  contributed  to  the  trauma  that  she  held,  that  they  all  held  in  one  way  or  another.  &  walking  the  road,  it  had  only  brought  it  further  to  the  forefront   .   .   .   all  that  she  attempted  to  𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡  𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲  only  threatening  to  resurface  the  longer  that  they  were  down  here.  (   the  hallucinations,  the  oven,  the  flooding,  the  fire    —    all   reminders  of  the  people  she'd  lost.  )   &   despite  it  all,  the  nightmares,  the  memories,  the  horror   —   she  wouldn't  𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖  herself  to  forget,  because  forgetting  meant  losing  them  all  over  again  &  she  didn't  believe  she  could  bear  it  twice. 

agatha's  reaction,  however,  surprised  her,  expecting  a  smart  remark  in  response,  but  just  as  she'd  seen  after  her  𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧,  the  other  witch  did  appear  to  have  a  softer  side.  one  that  she  wasn't  prepared  for  other  people  to  see,  kept  it  hidden  because  bearing  it  for  the  world  to  see  would  make  her  far  too  𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄.  maybe  they  were  similar  in  that  regard. 

❛     sometimes  the  horror  is  all  we've  ever  had,  all  we've  ever  known,    ❜     the  divination  witch  murmured,  flames  flickering,  illuminating  her  dark  gaze  as  she  turned  her  head  toward  the  other.  &  she  knew  agatha  had  suffered    —     𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ‚   heartbreak   .   .   .   sorrow   &   grief.  she'd  seen  it  in  the  moment  teen  had  lay  there  nearing  death,  maybe  she  was  one  of  the  very  few  who'd  ever  seen  it.  she  didn't  know  &  she  wasn't  going  to  push,  for  that  kind  of  𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧  is  rarely  something  to  be  pressed  upon  without  permission  &  contrary  to  belief,  lilia  didn't  dislike  the  other  witch,  she  was  merely  wary  of  her. 

her  surprise  now,  however,  was  evidently  written  atop  her  features,  at  the  glimpse  of  the  person  beneath  the  façade  the  purple  witch  presented  to  the  world.  but  despite  her  affirmation,  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓  was  always  something  lilia  would  hold  close  to  her  chest.  she'd  survived,  she  was  living,  she  was  still  here  &  they  weren't.  they'd  died,  they'd  been  hunted,  whether  by  disease  or  by  the  uneducated,  the  prejudiced  &  the  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃.  &  she'd  come  close,  but  she'd  evaded  death  so  often  that  she  felt  she  knew  her  personally.  &  all  she  wanted  to  ask  is  why  she'd  spared  her  so  often,  why  was  she  left  alive  to  feel  this  guilt,  this  pain  ?  what  was  it  all  for  ?

𝐀  𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍,  𝐇𝐔𝐇  ?  she  hadn't  been  a  part  of  a  coven  in  centuries,  a  fact  she  had  little  desire  to  change  anytime  soon.  being  alone,  well,  it  kept  her  safe,  despite  the  many  towns  she'd  been  run  out  of.  for  if  it  was  only  her,  she  had  no  one  to  lose,  no  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  to  break  should  something  inevitably  go  wrong  like  it  so  often  did. 

❛   true,  i  am  a  part  of  no  coven,   ❜   explanation  came  with  a  step  forward,  the  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞,  almost  akin  to  𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥  instinct  driving  her  decision.  something  she'd  never  truly  experienced  before.  protectiveness,  of  course,  but  motherly,  well,  it  had  never  been  on  the  cards  for  herself.   ❛   tell  me,  agatha,  do  you  have  a  place  to  stay  ?  somewhere  𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦   ?   ❜   lilia  paused  momentarily,  shiver  running  through  her,  shawl  twined  tighter  around  her  shoulders  in  turn.   ❛   you'll  catch  your  death  out  here,  you  know  ?   ❜   

SHE HAS PATIENCE FOR THOSE WHO AWAIT HER, for those who meet her with acceptance instead of rebuttal. lilia has lived many centuries long captivated by the fear rooted in rio's inevitable arrival.

& yet now that they are here, there is so little fanfare, such gentle acquaintance in its stead.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐍  &  𝐎𝐅  𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄,  looking  down  at  the  image  of  your  own  death   .  .  .   but  she'd  known  it  was  coming,  she'd  been  ready    —      she'd  𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝  it.  &  for  once  in  her  life,  she'd  stopped  running  from  it.  alas,  seeing  her  corporeal  form  laying  there,  pink  staining  crimson  where  it  had  met  with  the  silver  of  the  swords  blade,  it  was  peculiar  to  say  the  least.  rio's  question,  however,  tore  her  gaze  away  from  the  scene  splayed  before  her,  the  faintest  of  smiles  adorning  her  countenance,  a  saddened  expression,  but  currently  it  was  all  the  divination  witch  could  muster.

❛   because  i  couldn't  save  them  before,   ❜   she  answered  simply,  dark  gaze  rising  to  meet  death's  own,  𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓  laden  throughout  her  words.  nearly  𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞  𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐝  years  later  &  the  guilt  of  surviving,  the  guilt  of  seeing  her  former  coven  die,  not  once,  but  𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄,  had  never  left  her.  it  was  an  image  she  saw  every  time  she  closed  her  eyes,  she  couldn't  bear  that  burden  again.  ❛   i  had  the  chance  this  time,  so  i  took  it,   ❜   &  that  truly  was  all  there  was  to  it,  she  wouldn't  lose  another  coven  when  she  had  the  chance  to  save  them  &  her  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇  had  been  a  price  she'd  happily  paid.