Reflections of Growth and Decay
She was greeted by darkness, swirling fast as air around her grew cold. She shivered, unable to stop it as bumps raised along her arms and legs. Her green dress was doing little to keep her warm, now that she could truly feel the cold. Rio Vidal had lived and died, but the real being that died was Lady Death…the real Lady Death. The Lady Death that sent her through the veil was now like their siblings, copies of their former selves, carrying scars they couldn’t quite explain. The new Lady Death hated Infinity and the sheer joy that coursed through Rio — all of her next forms would wander the planes with Infinity, loathing her while having no actual idea why. It was delicious.
Rio paused when she heard the screams behind her, a distant thumping on the veil. Lady Death must have left Billy and knew he was facing his own consequences and Rio’s revenge. In the coming days, his soul would be making this walk as well after dying the slow painful death he fucking deserved with his constant attitude change. One moment he hated her wife, the next he loved her, and then acted surprised when Agatha was going to leave him to her— self-victimizing Maximoffs, well Wanda wasn’t that bad, just her disgrace of a son.
Taking a deep breath, one that truly wasn’t needed, Rio turned her attention back to the darkness. Her bare feet padded against the stone, echoing around her. Her mind still wandered, but it went to her son.
Was it this dark when you ran through, mijo? Were you scared? Is Agatha finally with you?
Rio stopped, feeling the tears again. She didn’t know what she was expecting at the end of this path, but deep down, she knew she would never see her wife and son again. Lady Death didn’t deserve that. All she deserved was eternal sleep so she could see them in her dreams. She wondered what dreaming was like. Was this walk like it? And endless black cold void? Her steps felt light, and there were moments she was worried she wouldn’t touch the cold stone again. A green light ahead made her move quicker until she was sprinting, and once the green engulfed her, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
The path was long, as far as the eye could see, but her heart lurched as she stared at what lined the path. Dark falls streamed from the grey sky, thundering down endlessly. A faint spray from the water tickled her, dampening her hair as she slowed her steps, spinning in a circle. Laughter echoed through the path and in the falls, Rio caught a glimpse of her life. She was a younger Lady Death, running in the cosmos with her siblings, unsure of her duty just yet. Eternity and her were thick as thieves, playing tricks on Infinity until the One Above All had called for them, readying them for their duties. The image in the falls faded as she walked on, something telling her not to touch the falls.
“That was quite some power,” her own voice echoed.
“I-I didn’t mean it, I couldn’t–I couldn’t control it.”
Oh….
That voice… her love’s voice.
Rio turned, seeing young Agatha crying against a younger version of Lady Death after her first kill. The pull to her was instant and this Lady Death couldn’t ignore how the mortal softened her. She stayed, watching her own memories:
“Cat got your tongue now?”
Death kept a confused gaze, making the woman chuckle more as she wiped her tears.
“Your name please?”
Death answered simply, “I don’t have a name.”
The woman carefully stood, pulling Death up with her, “Huh, playing hard to get now?”
She continued walking as her heart settled. The memories were longer sad, but something sweet. She could imagine what others would see, probably staying endlessly and watching the falls. Rio often heard mortals talking about how their life flashes before their eyes before they die. She wondered if they were what they were talking about. She heard more of her own voice, of Agatha’s, of Nicholas’s, and of the souls she had brought here. Her steps dragged as her eyes wandered the endless cascade of memories. Each fall held a piece of her, a fragment of a life lived across eons, both as Lady Death and as Rio Vidal. She smiled faintly as she passed a fall where Salem-era Agatha sat cross-legged in the forest, scribbling runes into the dirt, her tongue poking out in concentration. It was the moment Rio had first felt the stirrings of something more than fascination. It was love, raw and unruly, creeping into the hollow spaces of her existence.
“You’re staring again,” the Agatha in the memory teased without looking up, making Rio— both the one in the fall and the one walking past— laugh softly.
“I’m studying you,” the memory of her voice responded, filled with feigned indifference.
Agatha tilted her head, a smirk circling her lips, “Like one of your flowers?”
Rio shook her head, matching her smirks, “Oh Agatha, haven’t you learned by now I like you a little more than my flowers.”
Rio walked past the falls and let out a soft, nostalgic sigh. Her chest tightened as she swore she could feel the heat of Agatha’s gaze on her, as if time had twisted itself and brought her back into the past. To the days where she was still learning to be human and to have emotion. To the innocent fleeting moments her and Agatha shared outside of her coven’s territory, a love that had been burning slowly but surely as it started with a simple spark of curiosity. That curiosity turned into mischief before a complicated flame ignited in both of them: wild and uncontrolled.
The next fall was different. It was them before Nicholas and before they were married. Rio was still learning how to love Agatha correctly without being what her purple witch called “possessive” and most of all, she was still learning how to let a mortal love her in return. Lady Death was in all of her glory, well her favorite form, half skull-half human with her jade crown on her head as she sat in the window. Lighting cracked out the window, illuminating her bones as the fire crackled somewhere behind her. Rio would be lying if she said she didn’t miss that face. It was exhilarating being both part of life and death. She enjoyed scaring many souls, only using it when they refused to go through the first veil with her.
“Why do you always disappear, my love?” Agatha’s voice echoed softly, but the whisper cut her deep.
“What do you mean?” she replied, refusing to leave her gaze from the window.
Agatha sighed, coming up behind Death and placing soft lips on the bones, “You disappear into your head, my love and hide from me. I want to see all of you, know what you are feeling.”
Rio’s heart tightened as the breath left her. She hadn’t expected to hear that— hadn’t expected the rawness of those words. Agatha was standing there with those same knowing eyes. They both knew exactly what she had meant by disappearing.
“I don’t mean to leave,” Rio’s voice was hardly a whisper.
Nails left crescents in her palms. Till this day she still didn’t understand it, the depth of her own fear– the fear of being seen, of being loved, of being something more than just a personification of the end and unknown. Yet, Agatha had slowly erased that fear with every kiss, every look with that smile where her head would bow slightly, every outstretched hand, every corpse gifted to her…
Agatha smiled, kissing the side of her head again. Her words were slow, allowing each sentence to steep into her like tea leaves in boiling water, “You belong here, my darling death. You belong with me. I love you.”
She had heard enough. The past was too much to stay in and she had already walked this road with Billy, the first human she killed by her own will. She hummed to herself, wondering if Agatha knew what she had done and if she would be happy that she did. She had always wanted to kill, outside of keeping her duty— she had wanted to kill for that rush Agatha told her about. She hadn’t physically killed Billy, but there was that rush that he would suffer, his death slow and painful, filled with memories of what he could have had, what he wanted to do, and what he could have been.
The falls continued with her memories and there were moments where she truly couldn’t stop herself from freezing, haven’t thought about it for centuries.
“Rio! Don’t!” Agatha’s voice echoed.
Rio turned, watching Agatha run towards the shadows that engulfed the cottage.
Inside Lady Death stood in the center, her magic crackling and whipping around the house. Plants disintegrated, shelves fell to the floor with a loud crash. Agatha shielded her face as the windows shattered to a thousand pieces before low green flames grew around a black cloak. Rio followed Agatha’s gaze, watching it move up to the figure where only white orbs were visible from inside the hood, and on her head was a spiked crown of jade.
“How?” Lady Death’s voice boomed, causing the falls to even quake. “He was right there and he didn’t die. No one outruns me!”
“My love, please,” Agatha was begging now, a strain in her voice as she dodged the flames.
Rio remembered this moment. It was when a young warlock was supposed to die and he escaped her. His magic was weak and yet he managed to slip back into his body and disappear into the world. Her whole body was on fire at the time, everything in the cosmos pulling at her, the balance starting to dip. She hated how Lady Death reacted to this. It always angered her, but she was never in front of mortals when she went to hunt them down. Agatha should have never been privy to her rage, but she stayed, fighting the green flames with her own purple.
The white orbs narrowed at the purple witch and for a moment they flickered in recognition, before staying glowing, “He is weaker than you, spirit witch, and still fucking escaped. Oh,” she laughed darkly. “It’s been centuries since I have been able to kill.”
Her arms raised and from her fingers, black nails grew as she raised her dagger.
“Rio, my love, please,” Agatha was in front of Lady Death, hands reaching up.
Lady Death did not hear her, her hand clamping down on her wrists and causing her love to scream.
Rio stumbled away from the image, her heart beating in her throat as the scream followed her, echoing through the chasm and deep in her chest, reverberating through every bone. She clutched her head, the moment burrowing itself into her core until it consumed her. She had blocked this out for a reason, but the images kept coming, sharp and determined.
“Let me go!” Agatha cried, her voice thick with both desperation and defiance. “Rio, it’s me. Lady Death, please, my love!”
But this version of her was beyond reason, beyond anything but the constant desire for balance and control— she was inhuman, barely seeing the mortal in her arms as bones cracked and splintered, causing Agatha to cry out.
The jade crown glinted as Lady Death tilted her head closer to Agatha’s, her voice low and venomous, “I warned you not to interfere.”
Agatha’s hands weakly sparked with violet light as they trembled in Death’s bony hold, but something else sparked in those wild blue hues. She leaned forward, stunning Lady Death herself as lips collided with teeth. They pressed ferociously into Lady Death until the magic faltered, the flames flickering out. Then, Agatha was dropped to the floor, crying out holding her twisted hands to her chest as the cottage grew bright, the shadows retracting into the looming figure. Lady Death stood frozen, the spiked crown heavy on her bowed head. The cold, overpowering force within her flickered, confused, destabilized.
Agatha’s kiss had cut through the storm of anger and desire in a way nothing could. It was reckless, desperate– and utterly Agatha Harkness.
Lady Death staggered back, her white orbs dimming into the soil that overtook them, returning a color to the hollow gaze. She reached up to touch where Agatha had pressed her lips as though they burned her. Then her hood fell, the strong crown fracturing and falling. Before it could reach the floor, it dissipated into black shadows.
“Why—” she started but froze as her human form took over. “Why would you do that?”
Agatha laughed through her tears, rocking through the pain on the floor, “Because I love you.”
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Rio stepped forward through Death now, sitting before her love.
Agatha laughed dryly as Rio’s hands came up, green light emanating from them and healing her bones, “I am only stupid for you, my love.”
Rio rolled her eyes as the hands healed, but Rio recoiled, moving away from her as her hands covered her face, unable to look at the woman who she just hurt. Agatha, being the stubborn woman she was, wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her back into her hold. Her chin rested on Rio’s shoulder.
“Why would you do that?” she asked again, burying her face into her hands. “I could have hurt you even worse.”
Agatha refused to move off of her, “Because I–”
“And don’t say that!” Rio snapped, her voice harsher than intended.
Agatha sighed, “Because you were losing yourself in your anger. I couldn’t let you do that. You don’t have to face these issues alone any more, not when you have me.”
“My burdens are not yours to carry, Agatha. Look what I did to you,” Rio turned in her hold, healing the scrapes on her arms and face.
“When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I want to carry them with you?” Agatha interrupted, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re not just some storm I weather, Rio. You’re my partner, my love. And if that means standing in the hurricane with you, then so be it.”
Rio’s hands stilled, hovering over the last faint scrape on Agatha’s cheek. Her brow furrowed, a storm of guilt and vulnerability warring in her dark eyes.
“You don’t understand. If I lose control, if I—” she swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “I could destroy everything and no, I can’t kill you, but I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you again.”
Agatha cupped Rio’s face with both hands, forcing her to meet her blues.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered. “Not of Lady Death and her need for balance, and especially not of you in your anger. What I am scared of is losing you to it, to all that power. That’s why I stepped in. Because if loving you means risking everything, I’ll do it again and again.”
Rio closed her eyes, leaning into Agatha’s touch despite herself. Her voice dropped to a whisper, raw and trembling,“You’re so fucking infuriating.”
“And you’re so worth it,” Agatha replied with a soft, bittersweet smile.
For a long moment, they stood there, tangled in each other’s arms, the room heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and unbreakable love.
Finally, Agatha broke the silence, her voice steady and strong like the river, “I will hunt that warlock down and I will make him bleed, my love.”
“You would do that for me?” Rio pulled her head back, her brows knitting together.
Agatha groaned, “To the mother, Rio, you’re dense.”
“And you’re still stupid,” Rio fired right back.
Agatha teased back, pecking a kiss on her cheek, “And you still love me.”
She allowed her shoulders to fall, her voice growing soft, “I do.” Their fingers tangled together as their foreheads rested against the other’s. “I always will.”
“I always will,” Rio murmured to the falls.
Rio kept going, listening to the laughter echoing around her. She heard Agatha the most: her gentle voice, her sweet praises, and her quick tongue with her teases and light jabs at her. As long as Rio had lived, it was Agatha who filled the falls with life, with meaning, with love… warmth wrapped around her, as if she was back in her tender arms. The water seemed to carry Agatha’s essence, as if she was walking the path with her.
But she wasn’t.
Agatha already walked this path, and she couldn’t help but selfishly wonder if she had filled the falls for Agatha. She stood motionless now, her hand reaching out the falls, reaching to the fleeting memories of her past. The laughter grew louder in her mind, now, almost as if Agatha was here and teasing her.
“I never expected you to mope,” she would say, that maddingly annoying chuckle– the one Rio loved– following. “The great, powerful Lady Death with her head bowed like some tragic heroine out of one of her fantasy books.”
Rio huffed, muttering to herself, “I am not moping, my love…” her voice cracked for a moment. “I am just remembering.”
The falls roared back to her as their answer, indifferent to her grief, but a comfort surrounded her from them. Water was always with her, whether it was the river where Agatha named her, the same river where Nicky was born, or the streams that she had told them to go to be safe. Water was as part of her as the bodies of water were of the earth. It was by the river where she and Nicholas met again when he was four, and it was by there when she had taken him from Agatha.
“Mother, watch me!”
Rio whipped around, her heart beating frantically at the small voice. Then she saw him in the falls, hopping on stones to get across a stream as the Rio in the falls mirrored his movements.
“Slow down, mijo,” she called after him as he picked up the pace, his arms out for balance, but Rio saw it before it happened.
She froze time on instinct, ready to rush to his side, but something stopped her. How was he supposed to learn? He would do it again, expecting Rio to be there to catch him, and she couldn’t always be there. Agatha wouldn’t be fast enough, but she sure as Hell that Agatha probably never let him do this. She clocked her wife as overprotective the moment she had Nicky, but something gnawed at her that it was because of Rio. Rio swallowed, looking into the water and moving the sharper stones away before standing behind him and allowing time to start. With a startled yell, Nicky fell into the stream, splashing her slightly.
She didn’t say a word as Nicky sat up, staring up at her, as if studying on how his reaction should be. Tears were pricking at his eyes, but he held, waiting for her. Rio simply stepped into the stream with him and knelt to his height. Her hand came out, ruffing up his hair as she smiled.
“I told you to slow down, mijo,” she faked a heavy sigh. “I guess that means we have to go swimming now.”
Nicky’s eyes lit up, jumping to his feet and the tears disappeared as fast as they had come, “Night swimming?”
She chuckled, taking his hand and running off towards a lake. They laughed together as they came to the shore, Rio taking off his coat and top and lacing her magic over him to keep him warm. She shrugged her cloak off, her own magic changing her into a simply green dress before following Nicky into the water.
“Mama would flip if she found us,” he said as soon as he started treading the water.
Rio took him in her arms, leading them out deeper until she was floating, her magic keeping her up as Nicky wrapped his arms around her neck. The water was foreign to her, the cold nonexistent as her magic continued to work on Nicky, making sure the cold stayed away, and he would be dry as he would be on land.
“Yes, she would, mijo,” she chuckled.
Nicky turned his head at her, “What does ‘mijo’ mean, Mother?”
She smirked, “It means ‘my son’ in Spanish.”
“Spanish?” he asked as they swirled in the water, the moon shining down on them.
“It’s a different language, like Latin. You heard Mama speaking Latin?”
Nicky nodded, his eyes bright with curiosity.
“It’s a favorite of mine but there’s also French like, ‘mon fils, tu es mon coeur et ma vie. Il y a beaucoup, beaucoup d’autres langues.’”
Nicky pulled away from her slightly, “Teach me more in Spanish!”
She chuckled, “Okay, how about ‘mami’? It means mother, if you would like to call me that.”
“Mami?” he tested the word. “I like it.”
She smiled, running her hand through thick chestnut locks, Agatha’s hair, “Mmm, what else. There’s ‘si’ which is yes and ‘hola’ is hello.”
“What does mi cor-a-zon mean?” Nicky asked, his English accent thick through the Spanish.
Rio almost didn’t understand, but confirming, “Mi corazón? Where did you hear that?”
Nicky shrugged, his innocence encircling him made Death’s heart stutter, “Mama whispers stuff sometimes like” he made his voice gentle and a little deeper to mock Agatha “‘I know you’re there, mi corazón’ or ‘I miss you, mi corazón’ or it will be like ‘thank you, my love.’ She mainly says ‘my love’.”
The deeper voice was unnecessary and not her wife, but the words were her wife… her and her horrible Spanish accent. Rio could hear her now, even when she tried teaching Agatha, but Agatha would simply kiss her to shut her up about her accent.
“It means ‘my heart’,” she said softly.
Nicky was still playing with the water, “Who is Mama’s heart then?”
She kissed the side of his head, “You are, mijo.”
This made him stop. He turned sharply, “No, I am not. She doesn’t say it to me. So who does she say it too?”
Rio stared at him, watching as a knowing, familiar smile shone at her. Mini-Agatha leaned forward, “Mama says it to you, doesn’t she, Mami?”
Rio pulled away, taking a deep breath and sucking back the tears. She had to keep moving. The past was the past. She could spend another millenia staring into the falls, watching her life in the third perspective, but something was different. Rio felt a strange tug on her eyelids, the need to close them. Her feet felt heavy and sluggish. She wondered what this feeling was. It was new and human, and something Agatha would have quickly explained to her. She shook her head, stepping into where the cold mist sprayed more into the path. Her eyelids let go of the heaviness as she pushed her hair back, turning back to the path.
She hummed, her son’s song stuck in her head as she walked the path. There was always a path, always a road, but this time, she didn’t know the end. All roads used to lead to her, but now? Well, she couldn’t help but be excited. She wondered what a new life would be. Her memories would be gone, the pain would cease, and she could live anew again. Agatha wouldn’t be with her, but maybe she could be okay with that, especially if it would stop the pain of her heart.
Marching ever forward
'Neath the wooded shrine
I stray not from the path
I hold death's hand in mine
Primal night, giveth sight
Familiar by thy side
If one be gone, we carry on
Spirit as our guide
The song hit her like a wave, her mind yanking back to the one rare moment she and Agatha had curled up in a dim apartment, the record player spinning endlessly. Lorna Wu’s version filled the room, the haunting notes wrapping around them as they cried together. It wasn’t a song they could stomach in public. When Agatha first heard it, she had to stop Rio from breaking yet another cosmic rule– this time by killing the witch who dared to record it. But somehow, it grew on them, creeping into their bones. Over time, they found themselves going to it for comfort, another voice to share their pain with.
The path twisted ahead, and Rio could feel the memories swallowing her whole. They clung to her skin, slick with flashes of regret, pain, love, and bitter happiness. It twisted her insides until she couldn’t bear to look anymore. She had run from it all—the moment she took Nicky, the fights that tore her and Agatha apart, even the times they’d found solace in each other’s arms. And now, the dull blade of guilt slid back in, twisting harder with every step, sharpening the instant she remembered that kiss. The one where Agatha took her magic before being lowered into a grave of purple rio dipladenias, azaleas, and mushrooms.
She sucked in a sharp breath as the path split in two ahead of her. Each fork carved into the stone, each one draped in the roaring echoes of a waterfall. She froze as both paths burned into her mind.
To the left was Lady Death in all her mocking glory, her jade crown catching the light like it had all the answers. In one hand, a dagger; in the other, a flower. Her glowing eyes pinned Rio where she stood but the eyes were always beckoning her closer; like a crooked finger raised to lead her to the life she had always known.
To the right was a grave– her grave. Rio Harkness-Vidal, cloaked in green, lay still on a bed of roses and ivy. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, like she’d finally found peace. But that peace twisted in Rio’s chest like a curse, choking the air from her lungs. Her legs refused to carry her forward, her breath shallow as she stared at both paths.
The message was clear. She was back to square one, torn between the might she had been created as and the woman who flourished in the arms of a purple witch. Rio V.S Lady Death. Rio let herself fall, sitting between the two forks. Their images never faded. They were patient, waiting to see what she would do.
She didn’t know how long she sat there. Time was never her thing, but when her eyes finally opened. The choice was clear as the lake her and her son swam in together. She moved, sprinting as fast as she could before she could change her mind. The water was warm, pressing down on her back with each pound, until she was crushed by the weight of the fall. She cried out, her knees buckling as everything screamed at her to turn around. She couldn’t, there had to be something on the other side. She wouldn’t be trapped in the past anymore. Everything in her body strained, her bare feet gripping the stone with all her might as the roar of the falls was deafening.
“Death”
“Grim Reaper”
“Lady Death"
“Rio Vidal"
“my darling death”
"my love"
"my wife"
"Mother?"
"Mami"
"Death comes for us all"
"Please, my love!"
"I'm tired, Mother"
Rio stumbled, falling to her knees as the voices echoed in her head. She breathed heavily, staring down at the ground of roses and ivy. It was soft underneath her hands, cradling her like the image on the falls. Rio turned, sitting back to stare up at the falls. The water was slowing, as if someone had turned off the nozzle and she watched as the image of Rio Harkness-Vidal faded into a stone wall. She breathed out heavily. There was a dim green light somewhere, but the space was small, the road ending in her grave. She stood on wobbling legs, her hands moving across the obsidian stone, searching for something. Then, a shimmer of white caught her attention. She turned, meeting the other side of the wall. A door had opened, but something was standing in the way, staring directly at her. Her breath caught as her throat seemed to press into herself. She couldn’t function, couldn’t think as the invisible wire tightened around her neck.
The hooded figure drew closer as did she, pristine teeth gleaming at her as white soulless eyes met hers. The crown was taller on her head, wrapping up like a shroud of vines. Her cloak was black, wide and in the center more vines moved to cover her bony torso, but in the center of the vines pumped a black heart. Behind Lady Death was a bed of bones and blood, rot and decay, surrounded by Death Lilies. Rio went to pull at the invisible wire that held her throat hostage, only to watch as Lady Death mirrored her movements. She froze, raising her hand to find her own was human, but the one in the mirror was bone. Lady Death would never escape her, even in the Afterlife, Rio could never escape that hold. Rio’s knees lost their strength as she crouched before the mirror, holding them to her chest. Lady Death followed, crying as she did.
She couldn’t stop the cord that threatened to pull her off the ground, like all the witches she took from the gallows. Her skin was too tight, the thought of flesh overwhelming her. The skin wrapped around her bones, cracking them before burying nails deep within her being. The flowing dress became a second skin, constricting every part of her until she snapped. Her nails ripped down the dress, screaming out as she couldn’t get the skin off of her. Her magic sparked, but Lady Death’s magic was gone, unable to erase the human skin of Rio. Her mind swarmed like wasps invading a beehive. Everything was blurry, unclear as she buried her face into her knees.
“Make it stop, make it stop!” she screamed.
She rocked in the roses, her hands coming up and tearing at her hair, but no matter how much she pulled, how much she clawed at herself, no marks would show, not even a shade of red. She looked up through the distorted vision, finding Lady Death now standing. No other person except for Agatha could read Lady Death’s facial expressions, but Rio could, even through the tears and lack of skin. It was calm, reassuring as then, the glass shattered and Death joined Rio.
“You can’t be here. You’re not allowed to step through the veil!” she yelled, but Lady Death didn’t flinch.
Instead, she crouched down before Rio, moving her hair away from her face and just stared at her. Rio froze, her tears ceasing as she stared at herself. She may have given up on ferrying souls, but Rio was still Lady Death, no matter how much she wanted to escape, she could not. She searched the white orbs as they spoke without words. Another first happened in the world: Lady Death consoled herself. Control seeped back into Rio as they continued to stare at each other, unspoken words of comfort soaking in both of them. Rio reached up this time, caressing the cold bones of her own face. Her heart stopped racing, matching the black heart in front of her. Rio Vidal wasn’t a separate being from Death and she never was. She was the other side of the coin. Death and Life: growth and decay in constant cycle. Agatha had seen this before she did. Agatha had seen the flow of life within Lady Death, and she never knew it, not until Lady Death bore that saddened knowing gaze into her.
She smiled faintly, wondering if this was what Agatha saw with those piercing blues. Her thumb pressed against the lower jaw bone like Agatha used to do while dismantling her with just a look. Leaning forward, everything in her mind went blank. Her lips pressed against hard, hollow bones feeling every grove and rough patch scratch against her. It was strange, and she wondered if this was what Agatha felt with every kiss to her dead face. Lady Death leaned into the kiss before green emitted around them and then, Death was no longer in front of her.
Rio lifted her arms, staring at the familiar bones of herself before something else flickered within her. It was dark, powerful, and swirling through every part of her. Rio reached for her dagger, finding it back on her hip and a Death Lily blooming in her hand. She stared at the Lily, knowing exactly what it meant. She set it beside her as her arms raised, searching for that life inside her until Rio Vidal was present again. Her skin loosened, her heart beating softly, as her eyes closed. She sighed, her body relaxing into the roses and ivy beneath her.
Rio Vidal…Lady Death…
They were one…
one entity
and
one with the sacred cycle.
Growth and Decay.
Life and Death.
Rio closed her eyes, allowing the vines to cradle her body as she wondered if this was it. She could lie here for eternity, telling herself she had done all that could…she could fall asleep, drift into nothingness…
Her eyes shot open as her hair whipped in her face. Her legs swung, her arms looking to grasp something, anything. The wind was cradling her now, but also forcing her down, down and down…
The roses and ivy were gone.
She was falling.