Woven in Shadows (agatha x rio)

Shadows of the past

Chapter One: Shadows of the Past

The storm tore through the night, an unrelenting force that mirrored Agatha's panicked heart. Her cloak whipped around her as she stumbled through the dense woods, every shadow a potential threat, every rustle of leaves a reminder that she was being hunted.

Her arms clutched a bundle to her chest a fragile, squirming life wrapped tightly in cloth. The baby's faint whimpers broke through the howling wind, a sound so small and helpless that it made Agatha's resolve falter for just a moment. She stopped, leaning against a tree to catch her breath, her face pale and streaked with tears.

"It's for your own good," she whispered to the child, her voice breaking as she pressed her lips to its soft forehead. "I can't protect you from death. Not like this, without me you'll have a chance...I'm born evil but you, my dear are the light"

Behind her, the woods seemed to groan as if they, too, were aware of the danger closing in. Agatha could feel the oppressive weight of the magic tracking her, dark and relentless. She had fought so hard to keep this secret, but they had found her. They always did.

She pushed deeper into the forest until she found it: a hollowed-out tree, ancient and strong, its roots curling protectively around a small opening. It felt alive, pulsing with a quiet, natural magic that Agatha hoped would shield her child from what was to come.

Kneeling, she carefully placed the baby inside, tucking the blankets securely around her. The child stirred, tiny hands reaching out as if searching for her. Agatha's breath hitched.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, tears streaming freely now. "I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted this for you." Her hands trembled as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small silver pendant similar to the one that she wears containing a lock of her sons hair. It was etched with protective runes, a final ward to keep her daughter safe. She slipped it into the blankets, close to the child's heart.

The sound of a branch snapping nearby jolted her to her feet. They were close. Too close.

"I love you," she whispered fiercely, her voice thick with emotion. "Remember that, even if you never know who I am."

With one last, lingering glance, Agatha turned and fled, the weight of her decision crushing her with every step. She didn't dare look back, even as the baby's cries pierced the storm.

As Agatha disappeared into the night, the forest seemed to hold its breath, the ancient tree cradling the child in its embrace. And though the storm raged on, the magic woven into the air around her held firm, a fragile shield against the darkness that had claimed her mother.

In the quiet stillness of the night, Rio jolted awake, a scream caught in her throat. Her chest heaved as she clutched at the blankets, her skin slick with sweat. The dream if it even was a dream...lingered in her mind like a shadow, heavy and unshakable. She couldn't remember the details, only the overwhelming sense of loss, as though something precious had been ripped away from her. It was an ache she couldn't name, a hollowness she couldn't explain. Shaking her head, Rio ran a hand through her dark curls and forced herself to breathe. "It's nothing," she muttered, though her voice wavered. Peering out the window she sees the shadows of the moonlight shining reflecting back onto her face. Sliding back under the covers, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep, ignoring the faint whisper in her heart that told her she was missing a piece of herself. That something wasn't quite right.

And the child, abandoned yet protected, began the journey that would one day reunite them all.