Agatha Harkness - The witch trial

Chapter two - A piece of eternity ahead of us

**1720 – Marseille**

The streets were silent, haunted by the shadow of death. The few survivors remained cloistered, praying to escape the plague. In this dark and desperate environment, a proud solitary figure moved through the mist.

Agatha walked forward, her keen eyes observing the signs. Only doors adorned with a cross interested her.

She entered a house where a sick person lay dying. Her movements were precise, controlled. Approaching the bed, she watched in silence. The half-conscious woman had only a few minutes left to live. Agatha did not touch her directly; it was unnecessary and disgusting.

- "You lived well," she murmured to herself, more out of habit than sympathy. "Now, let me enjoy what no longer belongs to you."

She took out a small vial and placed it gently near the body. Her fingers traced a complex symbol in the air, triggering a slight shiver in the room. A familiar chill enveloped her, like a cold breeze. It did not come from her spell. She did not need to turn around to know what stood behind her.

- "Always here when there are dead," Agatha whispered, turning her head slowly.

Rio was there, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the candle on the nightstand. Her dark, enigmatic eyes watched Agatha with a mix of amusement and interest.

- "I could say the same about you."

- "Oh, that's harsh." Agatha feigned outrage.

- "The Black Plague is wreaking havoc. I've been quite busy these days," Rio said, stepping closer.

- "But you..."

- "Yes, I ignored you the last few times."

Agatha smiled faintly. "This time, I have nothing to do with these deaths."

Rio raised an eyebrow, a mysterious smile on her lips.

- "Maybe. But you're never far away, are you?"

- "I take what they no longer need." She indulged in complex rituals practiced in the shadows, preferring to draw from the residual energy of the dying—this invisible force that life released and that no one claimed.

Agatha turned fully toward her, feeling that familiar mix of apprehension and attraction. Rio still fascinated her, but this time, something had changed. Their exchanges felt less suspicious, more intimate. She could not deny this strange connection.

- "You seem to age so slowly, Agatha. No wrinkles. Do you think Death is afraid of you?"

- "So you continue to follow me, even though I haven't done anything," Agatha murmured, dodging the question, trying to hide her unease.

Rio moved even closer, almost brushing against Agatha.

- "You are much more interesting than any wandering soul, Agatha. You possess this blend of life and death within you, something that constantly calls to me. Perhaps one day, you will come to me..."

Agatha felt Rio's breath mingle with hers, her heart racing as Rio drew nearer. A shiver ran through her body, a mixture of fear and desire that she did not fully understand.

- "And what do you want from me, Rio?" she whispered, her eyes locked with those of the reaper.

Rio tilted her head slightly, a cryptic smile on her lips.

- "Perhaps I simply want to know you. After all, we have time to kill."

- "A piece of eternity ahead of us."

A heavy silence fell between them, and Rio slowly brought her hand close to Agatha's, without touching it. The contact was almost palpable. Despite her reluctance, Agatha felt drawn to this gesture.

- "Perhaps you would come to like me, my dear," Rio murmured with a wink.

Agatha stepped back slightly, disturbed by the intensity of the moment but unable to break the connection between them.

- "I have no intention of following you into the afterlife, not yet," she said with a nervous smile.

Rio let out a soft, gentle laugh.

- "I don't expect that much, not now. But know that I am always here, Agatha. And when you are ready, when you have faced what you fear the most, I will be there for you."