I think there’s quite a bit of parallel between Agnes Montague’s death and Jonathan Sims’s death in episode 200. Let me explain what I mean by comparing the lines about Agnes’s death to what happens to Jon:
“But if she ceased, not in cumulation of fire, but a cold and quiet death” - Jon did not go out in a spectacular fashion like you would assume the man who started the apocalypse would. He was not looked upon by The Eye, he was not drained of his power until there was nothing left, he was not consumed by fire, or rot, or darkness. He was simply stabbed. He taken down by the same thing that would that would take down any human.
“Perhaps her spark would return to the Lightless Flame and she could try again” - Before Martin stabs him, Jon mentions that maybe they’ll go “somewhere else” where everything will work out. Then they’re presumably “returned” to The Eye as they are sucked up with the fears and (likely) sent away with them.
“So we hanged her, as she requested” - Martin stabbed Jon, as he requested.
“All because of that most insidious of emotion, hope” - When Martin asks Jon if he’s sure about sending them all away, Jon says, “No. But I love you.” Despite the struggle Jon has with his humanity all through out the seasons, he spends his last moments clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Martin will get to end up together. In somewhere else where everything works out. It’s easy to argue that his hope is an insidious one when it drives him to sacrifice their lives to release the fears into another world, but it’s a hope, and that’s all that really matters to Jon in the end.
It doesn’t surprise me that there’s such an overlap between the death of Jon and Agnes. They were both avatar’s who were filled with doubt about their role in the world and decided to sacrifice themselves rather than continue down the path assigned to them. They were so, so, alike. I really wish they would have gotten the chance to meet.
Jude worshipped Agnes as if she were a God.
She viewed her with the reverence a firefighter treats a raging blaze. She listened to her voice as if she spoke only in psalm’s. When their hands brushed once as she handed Agnes a blanket she did not need and Jude could not understand why she asked for, it felt like she had touched the wick of a lit candle and had been remarkable enough to pull away unscathed. When she took a breath near her she swore she could smell incenses lit an altar, and in those night’s where Jude’s mind wondered to Agnes’s lips while her own where pressed against another’s, she swore she could taste it’s ashes too.
Jack worshipped Agnes as if she were a women.
He viewed her from across the coffee shop and saw the red in her hair and the weight in her gaze. He listened to order with rampant attention to make sure it was the same as always, as he never wanted let her down by getting it wrong. When he handed over her cup of coffee he noticed how careful she was to not let their skin graze, and he couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be to hold her hands, especially in the winter month’s when they must have been so cold. When he took a breath near her he swore he could smell burnt coffee beans, and in those days where his mind wondered to Agnes’s lips, he swore he could taste them too.
Agnes never asked to be worshipped at all.
Agnes Montague looked in the mirror and saw a blank face looking back at her. She heard her own voice and thought it would sound much nicer if she didn’t have to be so careful about the words she would speak. When she scratched an itch on her skin she would wonder what it would be like to be able to touch another and not have to worry about scalding their skin. When she took a breath of her favorite perfume she always knew it was a fleeting joy, as she smelled of a flame no matter how many scents she enjoyed, and in those night’s where her disciples surrounded her chatting about the ruin she’d bring to world, she knew it did not matter the things she liked. For she had people to preform her destiny for.