Power of Death (Agathario)

Chapter Four

 Soon, Death was opening a bottle of wine, pouring some into two glasses. She handed one to Agatha, then gestured to the table. Agatha sat, followed by Death.

"So you just go and guide people to either moving on or staying in this world as a ghost?" Agatha asked, leaning against the back of the seat and tapping her glass of wine with her finger.

Death took a swig from her own wine glass, then answered, "Yup. It's not much of an exciting job. You just get a lot of people telling you that they don't believe they're dead or people who say all of it was a huge mistake and that they should get a second chance at life."

"Oh I thought it would be better than that," Agatha chuckled. "I imagined you would just suck out their souls and chuck them on their merry way, whichever way that be."

"I wish," Death smiled. "But I'm not like you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you can suck their entire life force away. I've never seen anything like it before."

"Is that why you have me doing this job instead of some witch from the 100's who'd be more experienced or that you've had for a while?" Agatha asked.

Death shrugged. "What can I say? Power grabs my attention, and you have lots of it."

Agatha ignored the fact her heart skipped a beat at the compliment.

"In fact, you're the most powerful Dark Witch I've ever seen," Death commented.

"Dark Witch?" Agatha shifted in the seat. "Dark witches exist?"

"Oh right, you've never read the Darkhold. You don't know what you are." Death took another sip of her wine.

"What's the Darkhold?"

"The Book of the Damned. A spell book that contains dark magic that it's holder can use. There are different levels of dark magic. You've got the dark magic, and the the really dark magic, and the Book of the Damned has the really dark magic." Death licked her lips. "Witches that aren't dark witches never talk about it because they're scared to."

"But I've never used the Darkhold, so I can't be a Dark Witch," Agatha retaliated, not sure why she was arguing with Death.

"Dark Witches are born with a gift for dark magic. They can do it without training or introduction, so the Darkhold has nothing to do with it. But these witches use dark magic inherently and are shunned because of it. Most often their coven kills them, or at least casts them out eventually because they're scared or angry."

Agatha nodded, her mind filled with the images of her dead mother, laying on the ground and rotting away in front of Agatha's eyes. "I'd done dark magic on purpose a few times and that's why they tried to kill me."

"And you did it again to stop them. You didn't die." Death said matter-a-factly.

Agatha scoffed. "I still met you though."

Death chuckled. "In the best way possible, I assure you. It's much more depressing meeting people as they wake up as a dead person."

There was a pause in the conversation. Death stared at Agatha for a second, then looked away. After a few seconds, Agatha spoke again. "What happens if you don't decide to become a ghost?"

Death stared at Agatha again, though blankly this time, then looked down. "I think that's enough sharing for tonight."

Agatha started to open her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. She didn't what to lose her accommodations, at least, not the first night.

"So to kill witches..." Death prompted, then finished the rest of the wine and put down the empty glass on the table.

Agatha sat up straight again. "I need to get to a coven. Then I'm going to ask for shelter, make it seem like I've been wandering the woods for days. And if they're anything like the witches I grew up with, they'll let me in.

"Once they do, all I need to do is do something they won't like. Like forbidden magic, or if they're offended easily, fight back against their rules. They try to hit me with their magic and I steal it. Then you get your dead people. To ... feast on, or whatever the hell you do." Agatha finished speaking, then finished her drink too.

"Okay, sounds good," Death replied abruptly, snapping out of what seemed like her staring at Agatha's hair. She stood up, grabbed both of their glasses, and threw them into the air, where they disappeared ina flash of black. "To get to a coven, all you need to do is think about meeting a coven, then open the front door. It's enchanted, so it'll open where you need it to open. Once you kill them, I'll pick you up again. I may not be here when you wake up, so you can leave whenever you want."

She quickly left into one of the bedrooms, leaving Agatha still sitting at the table.

Agatha sighed, then stood. Entering the remaining bedroom, she found a nightgown neatly folded at the end of the bed. It hadn't been there before. She tugged it on, then slipped under the covers of the bed. It was a nice bed, soft and comfortable, unlike the other beds Agatha had slept in.

Agatha sighed again, closing her eyes. She expected the events of the day to catch up with her, to finally feel regret and guilt over killing her mother. But it didn't happen. Instead, all Agatha felt was fatigue as she succumbed to the call of sleep.

—

Sort of a shorter chapter this one.

Not really much else to say, this just established some ideas.

Have a great week!

-VictoryGreen8