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The wind rattles the cracked windows of her cottage, and it’s a sound that’s become familiar by now. Agatha hasn’t felt comfortable in weeks, and yet tonight, at her weakest, with her magic nearly spent, she ends up seeking that comfort in the company of a woman she never would have expected.
She has met her fair share of powerful beings – witches, warlocks, even a few gods – but Rio is something else entirely. A fact she had discovered earlier today, when the green witch had stood before her and revealed exactly who and what she was, a revelation Agatha is still desperately trying to process.
The battlefield is a mess, chaos layered over chaos.
Agatha is fighting a warlock who is far more prepared than she anticipated. She’d known about his arrogance, of course, his obsession with dark forces, but she had vastly underestimated how deeply he had immersed himself in the black magic. His minions are grotesque distortions of life, torn from the spaces between realities. They crawl out of the earth, twisting and shifting in a nauseating fusion of bone, sinew, and shadow.
The sky darkens unnaturally as Agatha calls down her power, and her magic parts through the air with the accuracy of centuries of practice. She splits the ground and opens the very seams of the world to try to trap the creatures, but still they keep coming in endless waves, crawling from the abyss faster than she can close the rifts.
She swears under her breath, her heart beating frantically. She can feel herself tiring and her magic flagging as the warlock’s army continues to grow. His voice, amplified by some ancient chant, thunders across the battlefield. “You think you can best me, Harkness? You are nothing before these powers!”
Sweat drips down her face as she conjures another useless barrier and attempts to block his latest attack. She pushes harder and harder, twisting her fingers in complicated gestures and pulling out every ancient spell she can remember. But each one costs her more than the last.
She has fought in countless battles, and now this one, with creatures regenerating as fast as she destroys them, is quickly spiraling out of her control.
The warlock’s laughter slices through the air, serving as a sharp reminder of her struggle. She grits her teeth, raising her hands to summon one last spell, knowing full well it might not be enough. The ground shakes under her, and cracks web out from where she stands. With a sharp twist of her wrist, she sends streams of energy down into the earth, hoping to sever the warlock’s connection to his summoned horrors.
She is right on the edge of burning out when everything around her stills.
The noise drops away, leaving a silence that feels unnatural, and a sharp chill starts to work its way through the air. The ache from her spent magic slowly fades, replaced by a coolness that crawls up her spine and settles there in a comforting touch.
Her pulse skips as a shadow weaves effortlessly through the thick fog and scattered bodies. It takes her only a second for her to recognize Rio's cocky gait, except…this isn’t the Rio she knows. She’s cloaked in an unfamiliar black veil, and there is something different about the energy hanging around her today.
Agatha straightens up, still a little out of breath, trying to wrap her head around why Rio has suddenly shown up.
Rio just watches, her gaze drifting over the battlefield and pausing on the crawling things. There is a smirk on her lips that looks faintly amused. But something else flickers on her face as well, something that makes Agatha’s stomach twist.
“Quite the mess you’ve made here,” Rio says, her voice projecting easily over the distance between them.
Agatha glares. “I don’t need your commentary right now, Vidal. What are you doing here?”
Rio shrugs, no longer moving. She looks over the field, her stare lingering on the twisted forms of the warlock’s creations, watching with what seems like curiosity. “I was just passing through,” she says casually, “drawn to all this…power. But now that I’m here, I might as well enjoy the show.”
Agatha turns her attention back to the warlock, who has paused his attacks and is eyeing Rio warily. It is the first time she has seen anything resembling caution on his face. He clearly senses what Agatha has, but he isn’t the type to back down. Instead, he laughs scornfully, raising his hands for another wave of attacks.
Agatha raises her own hands, ready to defend herself once more, even though her strength is all but gone. She can feel the warlock pulling more magic from the earth as his dark power twists recklessly through the space. The next attack is going to be so much worse, and she is very much aware that she might not survive it. She staggers a step forward as she reaches for the last of her power.
Rio must notice her falter because, for the first time since arriving, her casual demeanor slips. Her smirk vanishes, replaced by a sharp focus Agatha has never been shown before.
“That’s enough,” Rio says quietly, but her voice rings out with authority.
The ground shudders underneath them, and the warlock’s eyes widen. He turns to Rio. “No…” he whispers, stumbling back a step. “No, it can’t be…”
Rio advances forward, her presence so commanding that even the warlock’s creatures seem to cower. “You’ve dabbled in things you don’t understand,” she says softly. “Summoning death…that’s exactly what you shall receive.”
The air grows cold, and Agatha can sense more than see the shift in reality itself. Rio isn’t drawing on magic…she is magic; pulling the very essence of death from the air and shaping it to her own will.
The man’s creatures stop moving, frozen in place as their bodies quake beneath the force of her presence.
What the hell?
Agatha watches with awe as Rio raises a hand, her fingers curling in a casual motion. The warlock screams as the earth breaks open beneath him and shadows rise like serpents to drag him down. His creatures disintegrate as their connection to life is severed in an instant.
Silence settles over the field again, but the cold sticks around, a quiet reminder of what Rio has just done.
Agatha, still catching her breath, watches Rio warily. There is no trace of the casual flirtation or arrogant smugness in her expression now. Just raw, unfiltered power.
For the first time, Agatha can sense the weight of it. Rio isn’t just powerful – she is the end of the line. Death, herself, in the flesh.
It isn’t fear that keeps Agatha rooted to the spot, but something closer to awe. Rio had no need to step in, yet she chose to save Agatha’s life anyway.
Why?
When the last of the warlock’s magic dissipates, Rio turns back to Agatha, her smirk returning as though nothing remarkable has just happened. “Now that’s how you finish a fight.”
Agatha blinks, still trying to process what she has seen. “You…” Her voice falters slightly, and she swallows hard against the lump in her throat. “You couldn’t have just done that from the start?”
Rio shrugs, and her smirk grows even wider. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Now, the image of Rio standing in the middle of all that destruction, twisting life and death like it was nothing, won’t leave her alone.
She walks back over to the fireplace, hoping to get the heat of it to brush against her skin. She isn’t physically cold – magic takes care of that easily enough – but there is still something comforting about standing by the flames.
Rio is lounging against the mantle, watching her with a kind of easy calm that doesn’t match the day they have just had.
“What are you looking at?” Agatha asks sharply.
“Nothing,” Rio says, though she takes a step closer. “I’m just wondering how long you’re going to keep up the act.”
Agatha arches an eyebrow. “What act?”
Rio’s lips curve knowingly. “The ‘I don’t need anyone’ act. It’s cute, really. But after what happened today… It’s useless.”
She clenches her jaw and her fingers curling tight around the pendant under her collar – a locket she’d enchanted ages ago that usually helps her feel in control. Tonight, it just feels like a heavy piece of metal.
“I don’t need anyone,” Agatha says, though even she can hear the tremor in her voice.
Rio angles her head, her expression softening just a fraction. “Go ahead and keep telling yourself that.”
The fire crackles, the wind rattles the walls, and the air between them gets heavier by the second.
Rio steps closer, closing the space between them even more.
Agatha can feel the chill rolling off her and see the faint shimmer of magic in the air around her. It’s as dark as hers, but also so very different. There has always been something wild about Rio, something reckless that Agatha had never quite been able to pin down. Now she understands why.
“I know what you’re doing,” Agatha mutters.
“Oh?” Rio raises an eyebrow and leans in slightly. “And what’s that?”
“You think you can…what? Get me to unravel for you, and spill my heart out like some fragile little thing?”
Rio’s eyes glint mischievously. “I think you’re already unraveling, sweetheart.”
Agatha’s heart skips a beat at the way Rio’s voice drops. There has always been this never-ending tension between them, a constant push and pull of wills, but tonight it feels even more dangerous.
Agatha swallows hard. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe.” Rio shrugs, but her burning gaze doesn’t waver. “But tell me something, Agatha. When was the last time you truly let yourself lose control?”
Control. The word just sits there between them, as heavy as a curse. Agatha has spent centuries dodging it.
Losing control is for mortals, for people who don’t know better. Yet here, in this dim room, with Rio standing so close, it almost feels like something she wants.
“I don’t have time for this,” Agatha snaps, stepping back as her heart hammers in her chest. She can feel her old defenses snapping back into place. Weakness isn’t an option, not tonight.
But Rio isn’t backing down. She steps closer again, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. “Maybe you should make some time.”
The challenge in her voice sends a shiver down Agatha’s spine. Before she can think better of it, she is turning to face her fully, her own eyes blazing with anger and an emotion she is too afraid to name out loud.
“You think you know me?” Her voice trembles with everything she has been holding back. “You don’t know anything about me or what I’ve been through, what I’ve lost, what I’ve had to do to survive.”
Rio’s eyes soften, and for the first time since they met, Agatha sees something other than smug amusement in her expression. Understanding. Maybe even empathy.
“I know more than you think,” Rio says. “And we’ve all had to make sacrifices to stay alive.”
Agatha’s breath catches. It isn’t often she feels seen, like someone can actually understand what she carries around. But Rio’s words, as simple as they are, slip right past her defenses.
She almost laughs, ready to toss it all aside and get back to their usual banter. But she can’t, not tonight. Not after everything she’s seen.
She looks away, staring at the floor. “I’ve lost...so much,” she whispers, and her voice is almost lost in the crackle of the fire. “More than you could ever understand.”
Rio is silent for a long moment, and Agatha can feel her eyes on her, studying her, seeing her in a way that no one else ever has.
“You’re wrong,” Rio says quietly. “I do understand.”
Agatha blinks away the tears as she looks back up at Rio. “How?”
Her gaze is unwavering. “Because I’ve lost too. But why should that mean we have to face it alone?”
She has always taken pride in her independence, in being able to survive on her own. But for the first time in ages, Agatha lets herself feel it – all the pain, the loneliness, the fear she has been dragging around.
Rio’s eyes drift back to the fire. “I’ve spent my whole life either fighting or running, always trying to stay one step ahead. But lately…” She trails off, and her fingers idly trace patterns on the stone. “Lately, I’m starting to wonder if that’s all there is.”
Agatha’s throat closes in response. She knows that feeling well – the endless grind of survival and the constant need to keep control. It’s what has kept her going for centuries, but it is also what has left her so alone.
“And what if it is?” Agatha asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rio looks up at her, and her eyes are dark and unreadable. “Then I guess I’ll keep going. But maybe…” She hesitates. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. Not for both of us.”
The vulnerability in Rio’s voice is enough to catch her off guard. This isn’t the cocky witch she is used to sparring with…this is someone who has seen the same darkness, fought the same fights, and is maybe just as tired of doing it alone.
She has spent so long convincing herself that needing someone is a weakness. But now, with Rio offering something that kind of feels like hope, she isn’t sure anymore.
“I don’t know how to stop,” Agatha admits, her voice just above a whisper.
Rio’s gaze softens, and for a moment, the tension between them shifts again, from something sharp and dangerous to something softer and much more intimate.
“We don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” Rio says gently. “But we could start by not trying to kill each other for once.”
Agatha’s lips twitch in a reluctant smile that creeps across her face. “A truce, then?”
Rio grins, and the spark returns to her eyes. “For now.”
A tiny crack grows in the walls she has spent centuries building. It isn’t much, but it is something.
They sit there in a silence that, for once, actually feels comfortable, and Agatha lets herself picture a future where she doesn’t have to go through this life alone.
She glances at Rio and her heart picks up speed as she realizes that this might actually be the start of something new. Something she hasn’t even known she wants.
Rio doesn’t say a word. She just reaches out, and her fingers brush Agatha’s arm in a simple touch, but it says everything they haven’t yet managed to say out loud.
Agatha looks up, her heart pounding in her chest. Rio’s fingers linger on her skin, and Agatha feels a warmth spread through her that has absolutely nothing to do with the fire they are standing in front of.
“Come on,” Rio says. “Let’s get some rest. We have eternity to figure out the rest.”
Agatha hesitates for only a moment, and then she slowly nods. She doesn’t know what tomorrow will look like, but right now, all that matters is that she isn’t alone, and for once, that is enough.