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66.66% A Journey After Death / Chapter 8: A day out

Bab 8: A day out

7TH SEPTEMBER 2010

After a much-needed rest, Astrid apparated to Mystic Falls in the middle of the night. The forever 17-year-old didn't know why her restless magic made her apparate to such a textbook sleepy town, where people would run too if they were looking to hide.

That was before one would scratch the surface since this was a formidable supernatural hotspot for the past 1000 years:

•The beginnings of the Originals.

•The war between Wolves and Vampires.

•Bennett witches. Doppelgangers.

•And now apparently messing with Death.

The curly-haired Wixen was at the WELCOME SIGN'  and felt something bubbling within her. Add in her 'Potter luck' she had inherited, Astrid Black knew something ominous was about to happen whether it be good or bad.

It was something.

Cautiously Astrid took a few steps within the chaotic town and felt the homey feeling of Death's embrace. The immortal Peverell jumped around like the child she never was, and she let herself get lost in the embrace of Death's cold touch. Since under the cover of the night, no one would see or use the vulnerable moment against her. Or maybe living with Purebloods has hardened the already stony exterior.

Spinning around like a top, Astrid abruptly stopped. Even with her vision still twirling and her curls whipping in her face, well the ones that came loose. Her emerald eyes shone the haunting toxic green many of her kind feared with their last breath as she followed an invisible thread towards a house that was most definitely beautiful but with time staining its foundations and looked like it was a second from falling.

Hesitantly stepping into the derelict building, the first thing the Mistress of Death was subjected to, were the heart-reaching screams and the heat of violent flames.

She didn't even realize there were rivers of hot salty tears flowing down her reddened cheeks until a hand wiped them away.

The same person told the pain inflicted Wixen with a soft yet firm voice "It is all in the past, child"

When Astrid looked up with glowing pools of wicked green flecked with the shiniest of silver, the petit Wixen saw the infuriating knowing look combined with a sly smile the elder Spirit "Or is it the Mistress of Death"

Sheila Bennett was a powerful Nature witch.

In her prime days of the craft taught by her father, she could shatter someone's bones with a clenching of her fist or make blood pour out of the orifices on someone's face due to the strength of her aneurysms.

And she definitely had no qualms about killing if it meant her family was safe.

But ever since her daughter Abby Bennett-Wilson left after desiccating one of the first family, leaving her 4-year-old Bonnie alone and no one to guide her, Abby decided it was best for her daughter not to be a part of the supernatural world.

So, the latest direct descendant of Qetsiyah's was bound with the last drops of magic Abby Bennett had. 

The moment Sheila touched the baby Bennett, she tried every spell she could to unbind her even as far as asking help from the Gemini Coven in return for her blood and expertise in making Ascendents

The moment the air inclined Bennett started to shatter the bonds that held Bonnie's magic, Sheila told her everything she knew about the world that was kill or be killed.

Death never stops a witch.

If anything, it gives them more power. Especially if you are a Bennett.

So, when the Mistress of Death, who oftentimes ended up on the other side, witches would help her get back to her body or if Astrid had time, she would stay with them and talk spells and just tips.

Sheila felt honoured to even see such a powerful and respected user of Pure magic. However, seeing the forever young teenager so vulnerable in response to 101 burned Bennett's was awe-inspiring.

This didn't stop every Bennett spirit from appearing just to see Astrid, to watch, to judge if she was worthy of all the power the curly-haired Peverell processed.

They all had worries about her, dead men and women, but the moment they felt the warmth.

Peace

That was the only thing they could tell you, after centuries of pain and anguish. A brief hand of stillness, how every burn and scream ended with one petite girl with wicked green eyes and dressed for a day at work, instead, of being worshipped just for the chance of stopping for a second.

*•:.:*.:**⭐:°*•.••:*.*.:°.:•:••:⭐••:*.*.:°°*.:.•.::••:°*.•:*.:*

10 Hours

That is how long it took for the Hell Mouth of a town took to be warded so the bubble of the veil could only be dropped in the confines of Mystic Falls.

It also meant no literal ghosts of her past could haunt her, like her deer aunt Bella or Ol' Tommy boy himself even if he had enough soul to be trapped with the rest of the supernaturals.

However, the Last potter longed for him to be in the deepest part of hell, burning the raging fires held within by the Devil himself.

Unfortunately, in those long taxing hours, it wasn't just the forever 17-year-old walking around the town in many circles making sure every rune was in the correct position and was active.

No, the alarming number of spirits that came up to her as the amount of intoxicating power she had and the large blanket of death that covered the Wixen made everyone plead with her to revive them or attempt to end the horror story of a life she has survived.

Nevertheless, the Gryffindor survived with only a few cuts off a lucky few vampires as a wolf took it upon himself to protect her Maiden Hood  or something along those lines.

"Lovely Bennett, I have returned" Astrid announced with a bright voice as she returned to the grey walled house of the Dead Bennett Coven

While respectfully bowing her head to every tortured Spirit the Wixen passed, gaining proud smiles and making the Bennett Nature Witches stand just that little bit taller with the acknowledgement Deaths Mistress gave them. And all with tranquil smiles since basking in the loving aura of death, after meeting them for the first time so violently

The dark-skinned woman had signed deeply but couldn't stop the ghost of a smile slipping on her beautiful face with the bright English accent flowing through the once again warm air, since Astrid left the chill started to creep through the walls as if she was never there.

Instead of Sheila answering the Last Potter, Bonnie did.

She wasn't expecting someone who looked about her age, wearing a royal purple blouse that wrapped around her and tied on the left side of her small waist. Or in a thin pair of pale grey leggings, that if you looked hard enough had a few drops of crimson on the cuff which was a stark contrast to the pearly white converse on her feet.

Her wild mane of curls had been shoved into a ponytail with what looked to be a bone-white stick held within the mass of midnight black. 

But what surprised the novice Bennett witch was the warm power rating off her, it was like a soft breeze on a hot summer's day.

Bonnie just knew that warmth could turn to a frozen chill in seconds, it scared her, and put her on edge yet her magic was relaxed.

So, the leafy-eyed tried nature witch hesitantly glared tilting her head and saying questionably "I don't know you"

"And I you" Lady Potter retorted with a cheeky grin, before bounding over to Sheila and placing a loving hand on her cheek as if she was the elder.

Sheila didn't even fight her leaning into the surprisingly rough palm and letting out a content sigh.

Unfortunately, everything ends, and so the young mother turned to face the alive air inclined witch offering her right hand with a dopey smile "Astrid Sirius Black, it's a pleasure"

Bonnie gasped at the raw power flowing through her, before a giddy smile grew on her face as if she was just told she could stay up past midnight watching films with an unopened pint of her favourite ice cream.

This was a forgotten feeling for the leafy-eyed witch, since coming into her magic, everyone around her has just wanted her gift for themselves and in doing so destroyed the light within Bonnie Bennett.

Sheila had a knowing glint in her chocolate eyes, which was completely overshadowed by the happiness that welled up brightly. Seeing her grandchild wasn't able to accept the warm hand of Death's Mistress in friendship, she did it for her with unbridled joy "This is my grandchild, Mistress. Bonnie Sheila Bennett"

"It is a pleasure, Little Wicca" Astrid spoke calmly interlocking their fingers, not wanting the childlike innocence to disappear from the exhausted-looking baby Bennett "Now are we ready"

"Nearly" Bonnie whispered as she tightened her hold as she was feeling a little drunk off the Wixen's magic. Shyly she lit the fireplace with roaring flames and the candles flickered to life with her right hand. 

Astrid was enamoured by such feats of magic.

Yes, she could literally turn water into wine, but nature magic always fascinated her. It was probably because she will never be able to perform the branch of magic, so when the dreamy sigh and bright smile fitted perfectly on her rosy lips, she didn't care she looked like a right idiot.

And to the nature witch herself, Bonnie couldn't help but swell with pride. Once again, an unfamiliar feeling in recent years.

Approximately 10 minutes later Jeremy Gilbert walks down the stairs making them creak with every step. The Gilbert male walked over to the trio of magic users, dead and alive, while he holds up the ancient talisman that was made by the Original Witch or in other words the witch who was messing with death.

In response, the young Bennett just looks at him coldly with betrayal etched on her smooth skin. Ripping the necklace from his fingers that only hours ago on another's cheek kissing her deeply with passion the ex-couple would never have had and throwing it in the fireplace fiercely.

The trio of magic users stood in the middle of the room of the cellar, filled with the golden glow of firelight. Bonnie started to chant softly "Pontem Ure inter planum s. Animi leti tempus habuere suum. Inveniant in chaos silentium, et claudant ostium"

Every time the air-inclined witch spoke the powerful words, Astrid let some of her magic out in hopes to help the souls either lead back to the door or find Peace after such torture.

The moment Sheila started to chant alongside the girl she raised, the 1000-year-old talisman fizzled. The chanting reached a crescendo as all that was off was a puddle of melted iron

The immortal Wixen and the dead Bennett looked at each other as there were only seconds left before the door was locked, so a look that could only be described as unconditional love was shining as Sheila told her granddaughter "You are stronger than all of this. I'm so proud of you" Bonnie to was too tired to hold the burning tears in her leafy eyes as Sheila disappears, once again saying goodbye to the only protector she ever had

Bonnie's crying turned into sobs as she sunk to the floor, all the while looking at the fireplace. Astrid didn't wait for a second before when was next to the 17-year-old, pulling her into a long-needed hug.

Jeremy could only look upon the curly-haired Wixen comforting the woman he betrayed, before pleading for her to just look at him

Bonnie didn't move from her position, she felt safe. Which was the third time in the span of about half an hour felt odd.

Her head nuzzled in the elder Wixen in the room breathing in sweet milk chocolate and spicy Ginger hitting the back of her throat with the soft underlying smell of fresh coffee, feeling the spark of electricity flutter throughout her body. With a hollow voice, the air inclined witch croaked out with her eyes closed "Just go away, Jeremy"

"I owe you an explanation" The doppelgangers brother retorted with conviction with his hazel eyes burning in the backs of the magic users' heads

Bonnie's eyes opened sharply, blazing with roaring fire just like the fireplace was just moments ago. Standing up with the help of Astrid, who still hadn't said anything knowing the young Bennett needed to get this off her chest, but this didn't mean Lady Black wasn't cheering with a wicked smirk because she was but just in her head.

The distraught Nature witch was acting purely on instinct, growling with her back straight and chin raised stubbornly in the air "Matt let go of his sister before you let go of Anna. His sister. Do you know what you owe me? The respect of not making me listen to you explain yourself"

"I am sorry, Bonnie" The young teenager weakly spoke, feeling nothing but guilt. And it wasn't that it happened, Jeremy felt guilty because he wanted to keep on kissing Anna

Bonnie just scoffed out and pointed with her eyes, as Astrid's hand was rubbing small circles on the small of her back "You need to go"

"But..." Jeremy meekly protested, before looking to the forever young Peverell in hopes of help and all he got in return was a look that chilled him to his bones and her hauntingly green shining into his very soul 

"Just go, Jeremy" The novice witch all but screamed relighting every candle, with the flames angrily waving at the human boy

As the human boy left the house, a noise in the fireplace stopped her tears from rolling down her hot cheeks, which Bonnie stubbornly held in. She looks and sparks are shooting out from it. Getting closer to the soldering wood, instead of seeing molten metal, the necklace is still perfectly intact.

Astrid gapped in disbelief, before blurting out "That's not suspicious at all"

"What do you mean?" Bonnie mused with a suspicious edge to her words as she picked up the cold necklace by the leather strap, instead of the chain that it was before

"Doesn't matter now" She waved off with a small smile even if the Mistress of Death felt as if someone had just put a key back through the letterbox of the door waiting for someone to unlock the door "Come on Little Wicca, let's get you home"

Astrid got into the driver's side of Bonnie's little car, humming some jazz that she heard from a trumpet player on one of the corners of Delphine Street a few days ago.

Bonnie didn't say anything apart from the directions to the house Sheila left her after her death, but once they stopped in front of the threshold, she honestly told the Wixen "You have cared for me more than my friends today, Mistress"

"You need better friends then, little Wicca" The emerald-eyed Potter mused as she helped the teetering Bennett to the faded orange sofa in the middle of the living room as Bonnie would not have made it up the stairs

"But I've known them since I was a child" The drowsy nature witch protested as she plopped herself down with the elegance the Wixen had when stumbling home after a fundraiser at The Abattoir with the Mayor

Astrid manoeuvred Bonnie's head softly so it was on one of the patchwork pillows, as the British Lady spoke "I understand"

Before Bonnie could even open her mouth in objection, the forever young Peverell perched herself on the sofa caressing Bonnie's straightened hair wistfully sighing "I had friends, family even, forged in blood. But there is only so much people can take, and in the end, I am better off"

Bobbing her head slowly, Bonnie cried out with her leafy eyes glassing over "I'll have no one"

"Then think what will be better" The Potter haired inflicted Wixen wisely informed, as she easily wiped every salty tear that slipped out of her red-rimmed leafy eyes "And you will always have me"

"You can't do Wiccan magic" The air inclined Bennett said with her hard tilting like a confused puppy

"Your right, but that doesn't mean I'm not useful" The emerald-eyed immortal winked with a dopey grin, poking her side "Magic isn't just spells, always remember that" Before standing up and draping the love-thinned grey blanket over the small form of the half-awake Bennett and kissing her forehead, whispering "Get some well-deserved sleep, Little Wicca"

By the time Bonnie woke up, Astrid had left and got home to the French Quarter and the leafy-eyed Bennet witch had felt just a bit sadder with knowing that.

The 17-year-old witch walked into her kitchen which was surprisingly filled to the brim with food as she can't remember the last time she actually went shopping for food since someone in town always needed her to fix their problem. An unconscious smile played on her crooked lips as she drank some of the best tea she had ever had in her life, calming chamomile with sticky lavender-infused honey slipped down her throat with ease.

Just as exhausted and surprisingly unconcerned Bonnie was about to answer the call of her soft bed and fluffy pillows when her eyes zeroed onto a price of thick yellow parchment with contrasting royal purple elegant calligraphy

Little Wicca,

I will always be a call away. And if you need to get away for a while, come see me in Les Breuvage des Sorcières in the French Quarter

There is a world outside of Mystic Falls, and I will be damned before you die in those confines of such a place

XXX-XXXX-XXXX

--- Astrid Sirius Potter-Black

Lady of the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Potter and Black

Mistress of Death

Bonnie couldn't help but let a few tears out at the amount of care and love the written words stirred within her, and each word now seemed tattooed within her mind.

It was just a shame when she was going to call Astrid's number, Abby stopped her and forced the petrified Bennett into helping Esther.

But when the leafy-eyed witch unlinked the Mikaelson's without hesitation, she packed up her stuff and visited The Mistress of Death herself


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