La Sorcière et la Bête-English story - Marvel Wiccan fanfiction, Agatha Harkness

Part 17

Chapter 17. – (pick up from original Chap 16)

Wiccan's sobs were muffled by Dorrek's shoulder and the soaked fabric of his shirt that Wiccan's tears had caused. Behind him, unnoticed, one by one, each petal rose back into place on the tip of the stem as the flower stitched itself back together. Each petal twinkled with gold as a light lavender wisp circled it like a ribbon. The gold grew brighter until the flower shone like another small sun and finally caught Wiccan's attention. His tear stained face turned and looked confused, then slightly afraid, unsure as to what was happening. Glancing to the side he noticed Agatha wrapped in a plum shawl with her eyes on the rose and her hand extended, with her fingers twisting much like he did when he used his magic.

Then the flower burst and waves of gold light with lavender flecks like glitter poured off the table like someone had turned on a fountain inside the marble. It moved across the floor and Wiccan jumped back, crawling backwards across the balcony to get away from it. His back hit the broken stone of the balcony's rail and he watched the light flood over the balcony and off the edges, dripping down onto other parts of the castle. Dorrek's room flooded with it and when Wiccan looked around for his fallen companion his body was covered by so much of the light Wiccan could only make out the shape of his figure and couldn't see him clearly through it.
A small smile graced Agatha's lips as her eyes turned to where Dorrek laid. That corner of the balcony seemed to suddenly glow brighter and Wiccan had to turn away to keep from getting blinded by it. But even his eyelids did little to keep the light out.

When the illuminating glow began to dull Wiccan risked a peek and noticed the flood of light seemed to be running out. As it dripped from between the slits in the rail the balcony grew darker again but it didn't seem as pitch black as it had been earlier.

Where Dorrek's body had been, a smaller figure now laid with his back to Wiccan. Through the hole in the back of the tattered shirt he could make out ivory skin but there was no wound. That's when Wiccan realized that he wasn't in pain, and considering how quickly he'd crawled back from Agatha's magic his stomach should be in excruciating agony. He looked down and patted his abdomen but felt no stinging or throbbing. He pulled aside the tattered pieces of his uniform but found no cuts. Had the river of light healed him?

Movement caught his eye in his peripheral vision and he looked back up to see the person shift on the ground and push themselves up onto one elbow, still facing away from him. There was still a familiar mop of blonde hair but the hand that ran through it was positively human. No sharp green claws, scales or tinted skin. The young man's head bowed as he looked himself over checking the wounds Dorrek had received. Wiccan felt like his mind should be processing something but his thoughts were nothing but blank. Was this what going into shock felt like? Or was it the adrenaline filtering its way out of his bloodstream?

The blonde sat up, noticed Agatha and the two stared at each other for a minute. Then, Agatha's eyes flashed to Wiccan as the mage shuffled to his feet, gripping the railing to make sure he didn't fall over, his head still felt kind of woozy. Seeing her eyes move and hearing him, the blonde pushed himself to his feet and turned, his eyes wide with worry. When he saw Wiccan standing there, shocked and confused but otherwise okay, his alarm vanished and was instantly replaced by relief.

Then he became hesitant as he walked across the balcony and stopped a couple feet in front of Wiccan. Billy's eyes moved up and down looking over the young man. There was the same blonde hair, same blue eyes. His jaw was a bit slimmer but that could be just from the fact that his entire figure was smaller than Dorrek's had been. He was still larger then Billy, but had more of a football player build instead of a resemblance to the Hulk and his fingers picked nervously at his nails that were rounded and dull not sharp and pointed. His disheveled clothes had the same rips and tears and Billy found himself relived to see no blood or burnt skin.
His eyes rose back up and met the blue that stared at him patiently but held a bright joy the blonde seemed to be holding back.