Agatha's stomach clenched uncomfortably. Goddess, they had kept all of this from her for nearly a year now. Not a single encounter with her coven hinted at the knowledge that they had uncovered. In her defense, those who lived outside of Jurot declined to follow Agatha to Jurot, to live under her rule of the coven in the safety of the forest. In a way, they were dead to the coven, having started their own and refusing to meet with Agatha, even after she decided that a war on the kingdoms would be foolish. Agatha had been hoping to speak to Aribelle about that, convincing her that forming an alliance with the surrounding kingdoms would be in their best interest, that peace was for the greater good.
"The other witches and warlocks have been very helpful, you know. They believe justice for their kind is paramount. I agree, but apparently, you do not. Not anymore, at least. You've promised Vildaheim and Olthaire unlimited use and power over an army of beasts who answer to your commands. I will never allow that to happen," Aribelle snapped, her eyes flashing crimson as her full fury rose to the surface, her cool façade gone in less than a second. "You have declared that my people will fight alongside the same people who passed them on the streets as they were starving to death. There are several women who have come here and chosen the beast in order to never fall victim to another rapist or abuser, and yet you'd send them to work with their abusers. I will fight for a better life for my people, one that does not include them being used as a pawn in your quest for peace. Peace should never come at the cost of our people. We should pay the price of peace for our people. That is why there is not a soul here who remains loyal to you. They all know the truth now, how quickly you would give them away to the same kingdoms who threw them away. I will fight for them, for their right to be happy, to be who they are, be them magic wielder, beast, or human. And my way comes with sacrifice, with bloodshed, with heartache and pain, but it will never come with selling my people for another's army," Aribelle finished snarling.
Agatha's instincts went rampant; everything in her said it was time to run. There were no allies here, no one who saw the vision of peace that she was striving so hard to bring into their reality. Goddess, where would she go? She had nothing, no one. If only she could get through to Aribelle. Her eyes darted between the door and Aribelle, whose features were turning more animalistic by the second. She had to try, and if she died while doing it, well, then so be it.
"Aribelle, everything you said is the truth. But you must see how beneficial it would be if our people were not confined to Jurot, but free to move about any kingdom without fear of being attacked like I was. The witches will be hunted down and killed. I am doing this because it will allow the coven to barter and sell their wares in the kingdoms, it will allow families to live outside Jurot if that is what they wish. We give the kingdoms our weakest beasts, and in exchange, witches can walk the streets without fearing discovery," Agatha reasoned.
Aribelle's form shifted more, white fur sprouting all over her body, her face forming into a snout as her voice came out sounding much more beast than woman.
"That made no sense, and you must know this. You were not attacked for being a witch; you were attacked because you were surrounded by bullies who used you being a witch as an excuse to mock and abuse you. And if you were not paying attention before, I'll remind you that there are dozens of witches and warlocks living in the kingdoms, and none of them are actively trading flesh for status or favors. Magic is still sold, deals struck, and the best part is that every kingdom has witches and warlocks in their employ! All of this is about you. You want to control the coven, the beasts. You want to go back to being the witch you were once known as, but I will not allow this plot of yours to thicken any further," Aribelle said, pacing back and forth on the opposite side of the table from Agatha.
Agatha patted her pockets nervously, praying to the Goddess that she would make it out of the cottage alive.
"If the other witches would just join our coven, they would see that I want the same peace they do," Agatha said, exasperated.
"They want their home back! They've no desire to live in the forest, not when there's the hope they could take Meyorn back," Aribelle snarled, hunching over as clawed paws replaced her hands.
Agatha blanched at these words, her heart skipping a beat before taking off in a frantic rhythm.
"They cannot. There are zealots in Meyorn. The same who overpowered us, they will not leave, and the witches will not win if they wish another war with them," Agatha whispered as a cold sweat broke out over her body.
"I will lead them on this quest, I will fight for them to regain their homeland," Aribelle growled from the floor.
"Then you will die with them, my beauty," Agatha said coldly, her demeanor switching in an instant.
Aribelle lunged for her at the same time her hand raised from her pocket. Agatha gave Aribelle one last cold look as she coughed through the onslaught of sleeping powder that she blew directly up Aribelle’s snout, then turned and fled from the cottage. The momentary distraction was exactly what Agatha needed, the extra seconds giving her enough time to scramble up a tree, just above Aribelle's snapping jaws, ropes of saliva hanging from her fangs. The sleeping powder would take longer to render Aribelle unconscious, but Agatha was confident it would only be a matter of minutes that she would need to wait. Of course, there was the minor problem of how quickly the powder could wear off while Aribelle was in her beast form, but an idea had already formed in Agatha's mind. If it worked, Agatha would regain control over both the beasts and the coven, and an army of magic and beasts would fetch her anything she could ever desire.
Five long minutes later, which were full of snarls and howls of an enraged Aribelle, Agatha jumped down from her perch on the tree. She patted Aribelle's flank, muttering a soft goodbye.
"I still care for you, my beauty, but I cannot let you take all of this away from me. Even if that means losing you forever."
Agatha moved through the forest swiftly, her ears perked for any noise of a pursuer, but all remained quiet even after she crossed the border into Vildaheim. It took her several more tense hours of looking over her shoulder constantly before she reached Cypal, the capital of Vildaheim. When the expansive palace grounds came into view, Agatha wanted to drop to the ground and sob in relief, but she tossed her shoulders back and marched forward with her head held high.
Guards lined the single street in Cypal, which lead straight to the palace gates. They remained stoic, staring forward, still as statues as she walked up to the gates.
"State your name and your business," A squat, plump, balding man barked from the other side of the gates.
"I am Agatha Crowle, The Enchantress of Jurot, here to see King Thaddeus, Ruler of Vildaheim," Agatha said haughtily, as though the king should be expecting her at any moment.
The balding man turned to another guard and whispered something that sent the other guard running towards the palace. Agatha waited patiently, though she could not stop herself from repeatedly looking over her shoulder for an assailant. Aribelle would not be pleased when she woke from the sleeping powder. Agatha would not be surprised to learn that Aribelle was marching the beasts through the forest right this moment, tracking her movements. The thought sent an unbidden shiver up her spine. Aribelle had been fooling her for close to a year now, which worried Agatha because her magic should have been enough to tame the fury Aribelle was cursed with. Several thoughts ran through her mind, each one worse than the last. What if all of the beasts grew immune to her magic? What if she could never regain control of Jurot? What if the invasion of the zealots in Meyorn was won by the witches and warlocks?