~Magic Armada~

°2021-2023°

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Connecticut seemed like a good place to hide out. Sure, it wasn't incredibly far from New York, but the whole New England area had a certain witch masking element about it. So many of Agatha's sisters had hidden or died there; their spirits protected the future generations. Though, it wasn't anywhere near as obvious as Salem. Yes, Connecticut seemed like the best place to lay low until Agatha could figure something out.

She lived alone in an old Colonial style house that only had one floor. Agatha liked the familiarity of it; she'd been alive for hundreds of years. But sooner or later she would have to get the heck out of Dodge once people started to realize that she didn't age. Or, at least, she aged very slowly. It was a hard habit to break, but she couldn't use any sort of magic, not even in secret.

Agatha couldn't decide if her current situation was better or worse than the days of the Witch Trials. Better because magic was now a more common thing on Earth, worse because she would likely be taken away if she was detected using it. She knew she wouldn't be killed for using it, but she didn't know what would happen if she did. Would it be worse than death? She sure didn't know.

Sometimes she wondered if she could fight her way out. Agatha had been practicing magic since she before she knew how to walk. Problem was, the magic that Earth's-- pardon, Midgard's-- rulers used was different from hers. Different properties, different physical manifestations... It would be impossible to tell the experience level. Agatha didn't dare consider getting close enough to find out.

Still, it was undeniable that the Queen was, in some form, a witch in her own right. Perhaps not in a traditional way, but Agatha could sense the deep-rooted natures within the woman.

Agatha had only ever seen her once, nearly nine years ago. During the initial takeover, Agatha was in New York, blending in with the civilians. She was in the H&M in Times Square looking for a new handbag when explosions had rocked the building, cars suddenly rolling around in balls of fire. Like many others, she ran outside to see the commotion. Aliens ran wild in the streets, blasting everything in sight. First responders were trying to hold off the attack, but it wasn't doing much good.

Then, she had sensed it. A connection she could feel deep inside her soul. Another witch. It was a strong pull, so that meant whoever it was was incredibly powerful. Cautiously, she followed it wherever it may lead her. She poked her head around a corner leading down a dark alleyway.

There was an odd alien chariot parked in the darkest depths. Two figures stood there, shifting around so the female one stood in front of her male counterpart.

The woman.

That was the mysterious witch.

Part of Agatha had wanted to go over and speak to the woman, but her better judgement took over and she assessed what she was seeing.

Those two were leading the charge. Those two were trying to invade Earth. Agatha wanted to be angry, and in a way she was. But that deep connection was still burning, that sisterly instinct at finding a fellow witch was also present.

The chariot lifted off the ground, the mysterious witch woman laughing after speeding away. Another indicator; the laugh. It started out innocently, but then it started to sound like a witch's cackle. People would say what they will about witch stereotypes, but when they felt especially happy and powerful, there was a cackle. The original evil laugh.

Agatha went back and purchased her new bag before hoping to find her way back to her apartment. She had taken the subway there, but because of the attack, the system was down. Shrugging, she hid in that same alleyway and teleported back. She flicked the TV on and all the channels were broadcasting the attack, aside from children's channels like Nickelodeon playing Avatar re-runs. It was on the news that Agatha finally got a decent look at the mysterious witch woman.

It was odd. The woman didn't look like the average witch. Her face was too round, her skin too tan. Then again, witches came in all shapes and sizes. Agatha was just surprised at how... The word was lost on her. Now, were her accomplice (the news said husband) a woman, he would certainly be the textbook definition of a witch. Dark hair, pale, angular features. Some camera angles showed him using magical abilities as well, so perhaps Agatha had sensed the both of them in the alley.

Then came the president's message about deciding to yield. Suddenly Agatha felt afraid. It was like she could feel the spirits of her predecessors warning her. Be careful. Don't use your magic. Don't.

The instincts hadn't been wrong in the past, so who was she to object? Then it became obvious that the King and Queen were terrified of magical or enhanced individuals. Well, maybe not terrified, but they still took precautions... Meaning a lot of very special people wound up missing or dead.

For the rest of that evening, Agatha monitored the news like a lifeline. She, like everyone else, watched the footage from the United Nations building in utter horror. That poor man murdered for simply taking a stand and saying no. All those delegates falling to their knees with no other option.

Even if she had felt sick to her stomach, Agatha kept watching.

About 5 years after the takeover, Agatha moved. She took the first chance she got and left New York behind. She settled in Connecticut and hadn't left since. It wasn't a perfect situation by any stretch of the imagination. There were a few buckets collecting water from the leaky roof in a few corners of the house and sometimes the heater wouldn't turn on during the cooler months. But Agatha made it work.

It was actually fixing one of these leaks that led to Agatha's mistake.

The ladder was barely high enough to reach the roof and held onto the side by about a half an inch's worth of space. She slathered on some quick dry roof sealant underneath one of the loose shingles, reaching over as far as she could.

The ladder suddenly gave out and she started to fall. On instinct, she broke her fall with a burst of purple magic. She landed safely, the right bar of the wood ladder broken in half. She would find a way to fix it later, but she nervously dusted herself off and glanced around. Agatha hoped she wasn't spotted. She had been so good about avoiding her magic, and a slip shouldn't do her in.

***

The next morning, there was a knock at the door. Agatha opened the door and saw a tall, broad shouldered man there, flanked by two alien guards.

"Agatha Harkness?" The man asked. He looked so familiar to Agatha for some reason.

"Yes? What is this?" She asked. Though, deep down, she already knew why they were there.

"We need you to come with us."

"Whatever for?"

"Just a quick evaluation. It'll be easier if you cooperate."

One of the aliens sprayed her in the face with an odorless chemical. She coughed a few times before blacking out.

***

The next thing Agatha knew, she was lying on a bench in a windowless room. Blinking, she sat up, a little disoriented. The door swung open and a woman in a black and red tunic stood there, her hair sticking out in a few places underneath her green headscarf.

"Miss Harkness?" The woman asked.

"That's me?" Agatha replied.

"They're waiting for you."

"Who?"

"Please follow me." The woman said unhelpfully. Agatha slowly stood up, stretching her achy limbs. Who knows how long she was out? The woman led her down a few halls to a set of ornate wooden doors with funny patterns carved in them. The woman opened the doors and Agatha followed her inside.

She felt the familiar instinct as she approached the thrones, the King and Queen upon them watching her closely.

"Thank you, Jane, you're dismissed." The Queen said, waving the girl-- Jane-- away. She bowed slightly, leaving the three of them alone in the vast room. "So... Miss Agatha Harkness. A witch."

Agatha's mouth hung open a little, uncertain what to say.

"I-I-" She started.

"Don't even try to lie about it. A sentry spotted you using magic to break your fall. Not to mention... I can sense it in you. I sensed it years ago, in that alley way. I thought it was just the adrenaline, but no, it was you. A curious witch following her instincts." The Queen continued.

"My-My Queen, I was just... I was-" Agatha again started to splutter. How much did they know about her?

"Sensing a fellow witch and following the trail to see who it was. Miss Harkness, what exactly did you feel that day?"

Agatha composed herself before answering. "A deep pull and burning feeling that I only get when a powerful witch is nearby. I get small tugs here and there when someone passes by me on the street with a dormant gene or someone who practices a pagan based witchcraft. But that day, I just... I hadn't felt that since I last saw my mother and the other women in my coven. That sort of strong burn and a sisterly sort of link."

"I see. It's entirely possible you sensed the both of us, seeing as we practice the same type of magic, but I feel like there is some sort of link here. Miss Harkness, may we please see your magic?" The Queen asked. Agatha, not seeing any other option, spread her fingers and allowed the purple light to encompass her hands. She conjured some basic shapes and generated a small wind inside the room.

"Impressive. How did you learn this magic?" The King, finally speaking up, asked her.

"It's mostly genetic, however my mother taught me most of the basics. But when I started getting curious about what else I could do, I experimented with dark magic and now it's all I am. However, during the Witch Trials, some girls came wandering in, trying to escape them and my mother started to teach them our ways." Agatha recalled.

"So anyone can learn?"

"With training, yes."

"Oh, Loki, I told you she would be perfect." The Queen suddenly said excitedly.

"Perfect for what?"

"Miss Harkness, we've been thinking about creating a sub-division of magicians in our army. People to deal with more mystical, aggressive threats. The issue is the magic we have is hard to learn if you're not Asgardian and neither of us have time to teach. Ergo, your expertise. We want you to train a little army of magicians for us to command. Should you agree, you will remain here in the palace to teach with your own classroom and living quarters, as well as our protection." The Queen got up from her throne and approached Agatha directly. The witchy bond was incredibly strong right there. "You feel that? We're sisters in witchcraft. Bonded by our magical abilities. You would do so well here... Provided you do what is asked of you. Just say the word and you need never hide again."

The proposition was intriguing to say the least. On one hand, Agatha needed that stability and that freedom. Teaching a new generation sounded incredibly enticing. But on the other... Well, people were dead because of these two, a lot of innocent people. Then again, Agatha's hands weren't clean either. That horrid night flashed back to her.

Mors Monstro Naturae...

Death to the Monster of Nature

Now her mother and her coven were long dead because of her. But it wasn't her fault, of course not! The magic just... came to her. So, if even her mother had seen her as an abomination, would other people? Most likely yes. Maybe this wasn't such a horrifying idea.

The Queen watched Agatha carefully, assessing her every expression and emotion. Behind her, the King watched just as intently, eyes seeming to burn into her. It was as though they were both daring her to refuse. Agatha shrugged.

"Alright, I suppose I could be of some help." She replied. The Queen smiled her cold smile.

"Oh, wonderful. You made a good decision, Miss Harkness." She praised excitedly. "Now, we want you to settle in before you begin. Jane!!"

Jane scurried in from one of the few side doors with a short curtsey. Agatha had to give her credit where it was due; a normal human like Jane really had guts. The Queen was extremely unpredictable as far as her moods. She could go from sweet to enraged to insane in two minutes were the situation correct. She could treat you mercifully right before ripping you limb from limb, dancing on your corpse with a sadistic grin... eyes wild with blood on her face and hands. Her husband would just watch on adoringly as though he were watching his wife tending to a garden or playing tag with a small child. Jane's courage was admirable.

"Yes, milady?" She asked.

"Escort Miss Harkness down to her quarters and show her where she will be conducting her lessons." The Queen ordered. "Miss Harkness, once you're comfortable, I want you to start looking for possible candidates. Use your senses to find dormant witches and convince them to come here. Preferably people between sixteen and twenty. Young minds able enough to make their own decisions, but just naive enough to be volatile to control."

"Yes, milady, of course." Agatha stuttered, still unsure of what title the Queen prefered; she just followed Jane's example. Jane herself just curtsied again before gesturing Agatha along.

***

"Witch. Such a primitive term." Olivia said, watching Jane take Agatha Harkness down to her living area.

"So that whole sisterly bond idea was just theatrics?" Loki asked her.

"Well, no, not exactly. There is a bond there, but it's just so... Crude. 'Witch.' Nevertheless, she's got power, that I can grant her."

"Too much power?"

"We'll have to see. If she's compliant, we'll keep her around. Though, one misstep and we'll eliminate the threat she poses." Olivia picked her lip in deep thought. "She's a witch, but I'm not. Mage, perhaps. Sorceress? Enchantress? Either way, even if she is immortal, she's not better than us."

Loki chuckled at her mutterings.

"Is my Enchantress jealous of the Midgard Witch's power?" He asked, approaching her and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Of course not." Olivia scoffed before producing a thin smile, leaning into Loki's touches with a faint hum. "Enchantress... I rather like that."

***

It wasn't easy, but Agatha had managed to collect a good crop of people. Sensing them was the easy part. Convincing them to come with her to the Palace was another issue entirely. Obviously she was met each time with skepticism, though through some fancy words and a few mild demonstrations, she managed to collect thirteen participants. Ten girls, two boys, and one who identified as non-binary. Agatha was hesitant about asking the boys; she was used to solely female covens in her years of experience. But the dormant genes were sparse in New York. It wasn't much of an issue, Agatha considering herself a progressive woman. Magic was magic, no matter who wields it.

Agatha liked the idea more and more as she continued to think it through. Her little classroom was perfect with the dark stone smelling faintly of mildew. Desks that could sit two people, bookshelves filled to the edges with ancient texts (Agatha would definitely have to study those to make sure they contained the proper information), magical artifacts pulsating with different colored auras, and everything in between. Agatha's bedroom was set up similarly, across the way from the student quarters set up with the exact right amount of beds.

Agatha never really considered herself to be a teacher; she had too much energy and too little patience. Though, surprisingly, the students seemed to pick up the information quite well. As they were taught more, their expertises started to shine more. The one who called themselves Riley liked the idea of mixing potions and poisons. Meanwhile, their table partner favored a more pyrotechnical angle, a girl with long hair the exact same shade as a red delicious apple known simply as Mel.

Mel was a nickname, of course, her name too long and too old to pronounce each time. Agatha would curiously observe the girl's practicing while Mel played with her necklace housing a red jewel. Very often the older witch would wonder if the girl was really as young as she looked. The girl was certainly a prodigy.

It was actually during one of these demonstrations from Mel that the brief lock down on the Palace was instigated. The class was cut short that day. Later, when Agatha went to speak with Loki and Olivia, she was told someone broke into the Artifact Room that Stark and Banner housed some of their experiments in. There were assorted magical objects Agatha occasionally borrowed inside as well, the cool-toned crystals just perfect for spells and potions.

Apparently the crate housing those crystals was broken into, a blue puddle of liquid next to it. Of course, Agatha knew about the Super Soldier project, so it wasn't that hard to put two and two together. Someone stole a vial and it broke. There wasn't any way of knowing who did; no one could tell if the burglar had taken the serum. Probably not, given the evidence that the vial had broken. It could have been the Winter Soldiers for all they knew. Other than that, there weren't any other damages or stolen objects. So, for now, the matter would simply have to be put to rest.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be the last time something underhanded like that would happen.

In the middle of the night a few months after the break in, Agatha slept soundly in her room. Her students were picking up the craft quite well, showing growth and promise. They were well on their way to being the first in the little armada of mages. And, surprisingly, the infamously mistrustful Loki and Olivia began to trust Agatha more and more. They were horrible people, but they were never horrible to her. Oftentimes, they would confide in her, asking her questions or sending her on the occasional errand. Almost like an advisor, really.

Maybe not friends; Loki and Olivia were on a first name basis with her, however Agatha still used their formal addresses. Though, there was a mutual respect. With any luck, Agatha's students would move on and she would train the next lineup.

Alas, nothing could ever stay perfect for long.

***

Something in Agatha's mind roused her awake. Something was wrong, though she wasn't sure exactly what it was. She was fine. At least that's something she knew. Agatha left her room and crossed the main classroom to find the student quarters.

The beds were empty.

Now in a panic, Agatha ran up several flights of stairs. Oh, if the students were kidnapped or, gods forbid, had run away, Agatha might have to take the fall for it. That could only end badly for her.

She heard a distant scream from the higher up the stairs. The main floor, probably. Now sprinting up the stairs, Agatha burst out the door to the stairwell. Her first instinct was to knock on Loki and Olivia's bedroom door to tell them what happened. It was a risk, certainly, but it would most likely be worse if she waited and hid it.

Then Agatha heard another scream. It was in the opposite direction, surprisingly coming from the area of the Throne Room. Her instincts telling her to follow the cries, Agatha skidded to a stop and turned around. As another shriek echoed from the Throne Room, Agatha burst inside with her night robes billowing behind her.

To her utter shock and horror, a dozen bodies lie limp on the floor. Eyes and mouths wide in shock with deep cuts to their throats, Agatha realized that the bodies were that of her students.

"What is going on?" The witch cried. From the dais Olivia and Loki stood on, the Queen looked at Agatha with a stone expression and wild eyes. She had a dagger to Mel's throat, the poor girl frightened out of her mind. Blood covered Olivia's hands, face, and night dress, the psychotic look in her eyes subduing once she saw Agatha.

"Go on, girl. Tell her." Olivia snarled lowly at Mel. Defiant, yet fearful, Agatha's best student met her gaze.

"We-We planned a revolt. We never would have willingly s-served these usurpers. We used you to get p-power to hopefully..." Mel trailed off, enough having been said to get the idea across.

"Mel, do you realize how stupid--" Agatha said, a mix of emotions in her voice and face. Betrayal, fear, disgust.

"I have no regrets. I go willingly." Mel cut Agatha off. Impatient, Olivia sliced the girl's throat open, her body falling to the ground like the others. Agatha still stood unmoving, too shocked to do much else. Olivia callously grabbed for the necklace around Mel's neck, the red jewel barely distinguishable from the blood covering it.

"Such a pretty little thing. I might keep it." Olivia mused, fastening the thin chain around her neck with a smirk. The blood on the chain left stains on the skin of her neck, yet Olivia didn't seem to care. The shock of seeing Olivia wear a necklace that belonged to a girl she had just killed in cold blood roused Agatha from her daze.

"You... you couldn't have just... controlled them? Did you have to kill them?" She finally asked, her voice shaking. Putting on a concerned face, Olivia walked over to Agatha. She ran her finger over the jewel, wiping the blood off of it.

"Agatha, dear, we don't know how the scepter would have affected their abilites. This was the easiest way." Olivia said calmly.

"But they were just kids!"

"My friend..." Olivia put her bloodstained hands on Agatha's shoulders with a surprisingly heartfelt expression. "They were planning to kill us in our sleep. They would have done the same to you."

"They may have just been children, but even that could be enough to destroy everything we've built." Loki added, coming up behind Olivia. He turned to a few of the guards. "Clean this place up. No one is to know about this. Ever."

"But what about your army of witches?" Agatha asked carefully.

"We see now that it was a bad idea in the first places. You give any mortal that much power and they're bound to become corrupt." Olivia said, pulling away from Agatha and cleaning her hands and nightdress with magic. The blood on Agatha's clothes still remained.

"What will happen to me, then? Are you gonna force me back out there? To fend for myself?"

"You could. Or you can stay here and continue to be our advisor. You have good insights, Agatha. It... wouldn't be the same without you."

Olivia's face was sincere, yet Agatha was still unsettled by her blue eyes. They seemed to bore into Agatha, challenging her to refuse. It was the same story with Loki. They seemed sincere on the surface, yet... well, Agatha could still see thirteen bodies behind them of those who had defied them. The witch swallowed thickly and gave a short nod.

"Alright, I'll stay." She decided. Olivia's thin smile was dangerously close to a sadistic smirk.

"Good. Now, off you go." Olivia waved Agatha off gently.

***

Despite the thinly veiled threats to prevent Agatha from leaving, she was very happy with how her life was. Everyone feared Loki and Olivia, yet Agatha sometimes had dinner with them or shared stories. She went from basically being the weird woman in the basement to being allowed to attend special events like Olivia's 1056th Name Day.

Agatha helped Loki get Olivia to her feet after she tripped. The Queen snarled for the arrest of a one Arianna Adams at some of her guards.

"If I find out this was on purpose, I will skin that girl alive and make her family watch." Olivia had hissed in a tone only Agatha and Loki could hear. Agatha wasn't sure if she was exaggerating or not.

Arianna Adams was brought in, thrown in a cell, almost broken out by an unknown woman, then released six months later... skin intact.

About five months after that, Agatha was called to the Throne Room without warning. It could be any number of things, ranging from a simple question to, what Agatha always considered the worst case scenario, being sent away.

As it turns out, it was none of those things.

"Agatha, as you know, the little riots in Russia have been growing worse over the past few weeks." Olivia started.

"Yes, milady." Agatha replied. She still hesitated on using the first names of her Queen and King.

"For the time being, we must stay here and can't put the riots down in person."

"So, we would like for you to take about half of the troops, most of the Widows, and diffuse the situation as best as you can." Loki added.

"Why me?" Agatha asked. "And is it really that serious that we need to send so many people?"

"Well, for one thing, we trust you with this important task. For another, the troops will listen to you. Not to mention, your magic ought to provide some use. Russia has been the problem child for years and it's far worse this time around than ever. We need to make sure it won't happen again. Agatha, this is very important to keep the reign in place. A transport is already waiting for you. We wish you luck." Olivia said, waving Agatha off. The witch gave a short curtsey and started for the transport. It shouldn't be very long. She thought.

What could possibly happen while I'm gone?