February 18th, 2019, Salem, Massachusetts US
Victor Faust POV
"It's wrong, but one's suffering is other's happiness. That's how this world operates. Those poor women truly mark this place. Their pain reeks from the ground and the sky."
Victor really hated humans now. To prosecute, torment and then burn someone alive based on superstitions straight from the medieval ages. Still... Their torture has made an imprint on the fauna of this place.
He moved through the forest as the first light nuzzled his neck. The thick, wild grass bend under his pressure as he passed through old trees. His hand was glowing with a faint blue light, searching for the perfect place, the perfect blueprint for his herb. He tried to ignore the sour taste of shame in his throat. To move through such trouble for a something he once did as easy as breathing...
Finally, after an hour of walking, he finally found a small grove surrounded by tall trees. The light could barely pierce through the thick leafs. Victor dropped to the ground and pulled out a metal flash. After taking a long sip and biting down his teeth, he started to work. Carefully, he poured order magic into the ground before him.
"I might as well make herb here. It shouldn't be too long with how soaked with magic this place is."
Thick blue veins slowly spread around the grass. He grabbed the essence of this place, ever changed by the dead witches, and he pulled. A white and black silhouette flew from the ground. Victor quickly pulled out a sample of Sylvia. The light moved into the metallic needle and slowly started to reshape it. Sweat was pouring from his forehead and gradually carved a soggy path through his skin.
"Hello there, dear!" A chirpy female voice boomed behind him.
"Kurwa" Victor cursed and jumped. He hastily hid Sylvia's needle. Before him stood a raven-haired woman wearing a cocky smirk. She crossed her arms, showing off slender fingers, and moved closer. Her long skirt waved gently, showing off her heeled leather boots. She wore an elegant white shirt and a velvet black jacket.
"Hell... hello there, Miss."
"Really smooth there, Victor. What, are you ten years old again?"
"Disturbing the dead, are we? How quaint."
"I don't know what you are talking about. Do you see any dead here?"
"You can stop that green thumb." She took another step forward as her blue eyes gazed into his own. Victor couldn't help but to notice her strong jaw, high cheekbones, pale skin, and dark hair...
"Have we met before?" He couldn't help but to ask. The woman laughed, hiding her lips behind her hand.
"Certainly not. You would know." She twirled the elegant brooch on her chest. "I tend to leave an impression. Especially on men."
Victor took a step back and sent a discreet mental probe into her mind. The woman's eyes glowed purple, and he was pushed back with a force that sent him falling to the nearest tree.
"It's not nice to peek at a girl without consent! Haven't your mother taught you any better?" She came closer, her mouth ready to keep talking, but then she stopped. Her brow furrowed as she studied Victor's face. He felt a cold shiver down his spine, like he was a scientific specimen.
"She was too busy I'm afraid, and you were right, that was wrong of me. My apologies Miss."
"How the hell I didn't sense her magic?!" Victor did his best to appear calm and collected.
"Well, at least you know how to apologize." She mused, much less snarky. Her eyes remained fixated on him as if they were searching for something. "What is your name, sorcerer? And don't call me Miss, you are making me feel old. I'm Agatha." She raised her chin high. She was the poshest woman he had ever seen.
"Victor." He looked closely at the elegant jewelry on the woman's chest. "That's a beautiful brooch. My grandmother had an identical one."
"So, you insist on calling me old?" Her snark has returned.
"I'm sure you have a very youthful spirit, Agatha."
"And you look like you were born in the 1400s. Are you trying to become some hermit? You've got the wash-up drunk hobo look perfect."
His lips stretch. It felt so wrong and foreign to smile, especially with this unknown woman. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't smile. Not here and not with her... But there was something weirdly familiar about her. Victor pulled out Sylvia.
"I'm working on my herb. My previous way is unavailable, hence why I need the soil of Salem."
Her eyes grow big as she saw the needle. A small purple fire shined within them. She then looked up and down at Victor and asked.
"May I take a peek?"
"Pardon?"
"At your plant, dear." She rolled her eyes. Agatha moved her slender fingers around the needle. Gentle purple mist poured out of her skin. After a few seconds, she looked back at Victor with her burrows furrowed. "You are trying to create an illusion, no, a hypnotic plant."
Victor swallowed hard. This really isn't what he needed right now.
"Yes, but it's hardly finished."
"Obviously." Agatha snorted. "Still, it's been a while since I met someone who is creative with magic. Your idea with the soil of Salem is good, but it won't be enough. Even if it was, I would not let you."
"I didn't ask for your expertise, Agatha, nor your permission." Victor took a step back and felt thin purple strings binding his limbs. The magical threads pushed into his skin, almost cutting him.
"Once again, you are very rude, Victor. This place has sentimental value to me, and I won't allow some half-dead boy disturb it." She was holding those threads like a puppeteer.
Victor narrowed his eyes, and the purple strings turned bright blue and disappeared. Agatha was now positively ecstatic. She licked her lips like a starving shark.
"This is order magic! Aren't you just full of surprises, Victor."
"You know it?"
"I know almost all there is to know about the mystic arts. My mother used it. Although, her version was far less refined. You seem to channel this energy like you were made from it." Agatha moves around like a cat. Her finger slowly moving through her lips. For a second, Victor felt like she was going to attack him. Her weirdly familiar eyes showed a dark and murderous intent. But then she stopped in her tracks with a small laugh she said, "Perhaps we can come to an agreement."
"I'm shaking with anticipation." Victor tried to hide his ragged breath. Even such a simple action made him lightheaded. This wasn't just the case of being out of practice. Fighting is not his best option right now.
"I help you with your plant and in return, you share your entire magical knowledge with me."
"You are serious?"
"Of course, I am, dear! I pride myself on my magical knowledge, and you know things I don't. I can't allow that. Would you prefer if I ripped it out of your body? You look like my breath alone could kill you." Her fingers keep moving, daring him to challenge her.
"Why, do you want to help me?" Since Agatha saw right through him, Victor just dropped to the ground. He took another sip from his flask. The woman's face grew gentler as she raised her fingers and whispered.
"Sella Mutatio" Her purple magic flew into the nearby bush and transfigured it into a small back chair and took a seat next to him. She crossed her legs as her back was perfectly straight.
"Vocalized, Latin spells? That's... ridiculously old-school." Despite his words, a small smile of wonder appeared on Victor's face. Agatha seemed to ignore his comment, although her chin was raised even higher.
"You are obviously someone who suffered a lot. I don't need to try to probe your mind to sense your grief, Victor. I don't respect many people, dear, but I do respect those who aren't afraid of using their magical gifts. Nothing makes me sicker than seeing sorcerers who do absolutely nothing their entire life. You, on the brink of your death, still trying to create something new. Now that I respect."
"You keep bringing that up... I know I'm in a bad shape, but I'm far from dying." Yet another bloody chest pain shook his body. Victor had to close his eyes as his body kept twitching. After a few minutes of silent agony, he opened his eyes. Agatha stared right into him.
"It's getting worse, isn't it?"
"How do you know?" He took another sip from his flask.
"Alcohol will hardly help on a missing soul piece." She played with her hem of her velvet jacket.
"What?!" Victor chocked hard.
"I would need to take a closer look, but I can tell your soul is incomplete. This causes the pain rushes. It's only a matter of time before your body gives in, after all, we humans can't live without our souls."
Victor considered her words and rubbed his pale hands. It would seem he absorbed more of Wanda's essence than he ever thought.
"Still... It changes nothing. If you help me, I will tell you everything I know. Just please help me."
"We have a deal, then." She stood up and clapped her hands. "Up now, green thumb. I live close by."
She kept her hands behind her back and moved with a brisk tempo. Victor tried to keep up. His weary mind still actively tried to understand what is happening.
"Why do I have a feeling like we met before?"
"We haven't. Although, the more I look at you, the more curious I'm becoming. Where are you from?"
"Poland, although I've spent a lot of time in Sokovia."
"When it still existed?" Agatha mused.
"Yes." He shot back, not amused. "You are from here, aren't you?"
"Great deduction. You haven't told me your family name."
"And neither have you. My family isn't one to brag about, trust me."
Agatha was quiet for a long while. They moved side by side, their shoulders almost evenly matched.
"Perhaps I should be more cautious, worried. This woman completely hides her magical presence from me and right now could throw me around like a rag doll. Still, if I will get what I want, I don't really care."
"Do I understand correctly you want to use this herb on yourself?" She mused lightly.
"Yes. But there are complications."
"Don't tell me you are facing the Voerman paradox?"
"The what now?"
"You aren't aware?" Agatha rolled her eyes. "You are trying to force your consciousness into submission, and it's fighting back. Your mind has its own mind. It can happen to people who practice magic. Our minds and souls are far more developed than regular humans." Seeing the lack of response from Victor, she giggled. "Hey, I'm not judging you. With my help, you will be able to do your sleeping beauty until you die."
"So long as I show you what I know?" Agatha smiled and elbowed him.
"So, you did pay attention."
"You just seem like a kind of woman who always gets what she wants."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, dear, now Who taught you how to manipulate nature? I can see this wasn't your first-time green thumb."
"My grandmother. She... She was the best teacher one could ever have."
"She certainly taught you well. You know that witches traditionally manipulated nature they way you did? Although, I hardly ever cared about this branch of magic. Your grandmother must have been a witch. Maybe I even knew her. What was her name?"
"Ida... Ida Harkness."
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading.
If you've enjoyed, please don't forget to vote and comment. I truly appreciate it!
This might be a slightly different Agatha than the fans of the MCU were introduced to. There is a good reason for it, which should be revealed in the next chapter :)
As always, take care <3