{• P R O L O G U E • P A R T 2 •}

Chapter 2: Till Forever Falls Apart

In the vision:

The three Mikaelson witches gasped and coughed as they bent over to catch their breaths.

"Are you all right?" Davina asked Hope as she winced, gently reaching out to touch her forehead.

Davina and Freya checked for any signs of the Hollow taking control and released a breath of relief when they found nothing other than a couple of rescinding blue veins.

"W-where are we?" Hope asked, observing the dark empty high school hallways where they were estranged.

"I don't know," Freya answered.

"Did you feel the pulse before we ended up wherever we are?" Davina asked

"Yeah, It felt weird." Hope answered at the same time that Freya responded, "A Pulse of Magic."

The skittish witches jumped as they heard an echoed crash, "did you hear that?" Freya asked.

"Yeah," Hope said, turning to the sound, "I think it was that way," running towards the locker room.

Upon arrival, they observed a young boy with brown hair and brown eyes attempt to fight a creepy and realistic cowboy-scarecrow monster either inspired or from the western 1800s movies.

The monster had skin that matched with wood and hollowed bullet-shot eyes; he had Jet black curly winglets for hair hidden under the cowboy hat whose lips were sewn shut.

"What is the" Hope began but paused as she comprehended what was happening in front of her.

Her spontaneous reaction was to help the boy in trouble if only her magic didn't refuse to surface.

"I can't use my magic," Hope panicked, " Wait, why can't I use my magic?" Hope asked.

"Because I think this is someone's memory," Freya answered in dismay.

"Damnit!" The boy muttered as he groaned out at his humanity before yelling, "Scott! I'm still Human," he shouted, moving backwards stealthily, hoping his brother could hear him despite whatever scenario he faced.

"Alex! Jade!" he yelled, a prominent vein on his neck popping out.

At this point, he hoped his pack could hear him.

"Guys! I'm human!" he yelled as much as his voice could carry, croaking a little towards the end. "How could I fight this guy?"

"Oh god, not again," he mumbled in disbelief as he saw the creature reach into his belt to pull out a gun.

The boy's face changed to one of agony for a split second before his eyes sparked, and a flash of a different colour streamed through his eyes as he remembered. He cleared his throat, ready to try again, "You better get here quick, Mikaelson" murmured, audible to the witches who exchanged glances at their surname.

"Look," he turned to the creature, raising his hand as if it were going to be able to protect him, "I don't know if you can understand me or remember me but..." his voice faltered as the fiend turned its body to the right, tilting its head to the left.

The boy took that as a sign to continue while the witches' confusion and disbelief were visible in theirs. Who was this guy? Why were they here? The witches were scared for the boy they'd never met at the ridiculousness they were witnessing.

"I'm sure your owner," he winced as the creature raised his gun, "No? master?" he tried again, the question in his voice prominent, as his gestures started to become more spastic.

The boy began to breathe a little harsher as the fiend started aiming, "Sorry, sorry, keeper?" he squeaked as his eyes squinted, almost entirely shut as he leaned further back.

"Keeper?" he asked again, pausing for a minute to gauge the reaction, feeling relieved when the creature didn't aim the gun directly at him but 2 feet off the mark. In his moment of happiness, he didn't notice the fiend step closer to him, moving as quietly as possible with his belted outfit.

"I don't think your keeper's saviour would agree with trying to..." his voice began to weaken as the creature was closer than he was before, "...recapture me," he finished under his breath.

The monster put his head straight and fired a warning shot causing the boy to jump. The witches could imagine. If the creature's lips had not plastered in the shape they were in, they would have dipped into a malicious grin or a burst of hideous laughter.

They watched as the boy tried to fight the monster for the gun, the sound of iron-capped boots echoing through the empty halls behind the witches as a couple of shots fired. The boots echoed faster as if the one wearing them began to run towards the locker room. Finally, the monster pushed the boy to get the upper hand and touched the gun on the boy's forehead. A small tear escaped the boy's eyes as he took a couple of shuddering breaths before closing his eyes, waiting for the monster to take him away again.

Hope turned around, not wanting to see anyone die. Her eyes took notice of someone nearing them. For some reason, she couldn't remove her eyes from the girl in front of her. She nudged her aunts as the mystery girl notched her arrow and released it.

Two arrows whizzed past the boy, lodging themselves into the monster's throat and shoulder, causing it to release a thunderous screech as the boy jumped back in startlement and relief. The boy teared up and froze as he recognised the arrows, waiting for her to step in the light. After all, seeing is believing. Two more flew by, aimed for the heart. The monster screeched as it desiccated, shrinking into a puff of black-green smoke.

The witches saw as the mystery girl made herself visible to the boy, lowering her bow and releasing a giant sigh. As she stepped into the light, they could see her better. She wore a blood-red leather hood, a black tank top with black jeans and black toe-capped combat boots with a red & black flannel tied around her waist. A belt with more tools, some missing, but the most evident were the daggers and a pestle used by all witches. An odd combination, but then again, they saw a scarecrow shrink into a puff of black smoke. Strapped to her back were two swords and a quiver for her arrows. Mud and dried blood were smeared all over her clothes, face and arms. Around her neck, they could see two chains. On her hand, there were two bracelets with small charms that the witches could not see.

"Are those swords?" Davina asked, squinting her eyes to double-check. No matter how many times she blinked, it didn't change.

They watched as their eyes met in a claim. Their eyes began to glow in a mystical shade of gold and silver. The boy and girl embraced.

They created a purple aura as their magic flowed. Golden and silver sparks flew in the purple cloud while the couple kissed.

The three witches connected to nature felt the pulse of magic they felt back in New Orleans once again as they continued to kiss, a sprinkle of golden and translucent-green dust on their heads unnoticed as they watched, entranced.

When they broke off to breathe, chests heaving, the boy continued to hold his face in her hand as delicately as he could. At the same time, he resumed pressing kisses wherever he could reach - her forehead, the closed eyes, the top of her cheeks, under her jaw, peppering her titled neck before trailing back to her lips. Muttering along the lines of "You're okay. You are here, you are home," wherever he could.

His breath was ragged as he held his emotions together. They could not be emotional when there was a lot to be done.

He continued fanning over her as if he couldn't believe she was alive. Even when she tried to speak to him, he kept holding her and kissing her close to him as he continued to reassure himself. They were together. They were alive.

After a couple more minutes, he nuzzled his head into her neck, inhaling her scent as deep as he could, relapsing her scent to his memory. When he finally felt calm, he kissed her last time before letting her go but not too far from him as his hands still cupped her face.

"Never again," he whispered to the girl, afraid to speak too loud as if it would break their little moment, "Whenever something else happens in this world. No offence, but you are letting it burn." The girl could only chuckle and unsealed her mouth to say something, but he didn't let her. "No, Nope. No, no, no. Notitty-not-not. I don't care what your family does," he spoke in such certainty, seriousness radiating ten-fold as his pheromones engulfed Hope's senses, almost making her dizzy with the feeling.

"I already told you once before, and I think I should repeat it because you didn't get the memo before. Well, your crazy grandmother-aunts didn't."

The girl started laughing. That was the first genuine laugh she released in a long time. Good Lord, it was beautiful, he thought.

"Did you just call the deadly trio my crazy grandmother-aunts?" She laughed as he stared at the ceiling above them with a bright red face.

"Yes." he deadpanned, "Well, what do you think I should have named them? The three noodles? No, I think the three needles fit them better. Three old, Thin, sharp, silver, dainty, pokey, and nosy pricks who think they decide everyone's lives." The girl threw her head back, stepping out of his arms to brace herself on her knees as she visualised the compared, those whom she called the deadly trio to needles.

"Need more adjectives," she laughed at him once she caught her breath.

"I'm serious, Athena," he said even though Mirth danced his irises. He softly grasped Athena's hands, rubbing his thumb along wherever he touched her, attempting to bring her attention back to him. "Look at what they did to your life, our life, your pack's life, your family's. You can't even meet your father's side of the family because of a stupid promise. I love you, Athena Rose Mikaelson-Croft, with my whole being Thea, and you've risked your life for a long time. I don't want to watch you get hurt again. I don't want to see you in pain. I don't want to see you almost die. Again. You can't leave me. Not again. It's happened too many times. You can't leave me again," he spoke, finally releasing the tear that was fighting the threshold of his eyes. Tears of sheer despair and love rolled down his red cheeks as Athena held his face in her palms, bringing his forehead closer to her so she could kiss it.

The trio watching them from afar's eyes filled with sorrow as they watched Athena's eyes tear up in more helplessness than they have witnessed in a long time.

"Please don't leave me-" his voice croaked as he finally let out the heartbreaking sob that wanted to escape him from the moment he saw her again.

"Shh, Sti, it's okay. I don't think I could survive leaving you. I love you too, Mieczyslaw Theseus Stilinski." She whispered to him, framing his face in her hands and pressing a gentle kiss on his lips before continuing, "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon except maybe to the bathroom for a shower because I need one," the last line got a chuckle out of him, which made her continue ridiculously again, "and camp and checking on my Lil sister and to the diner to eat since I've missed their food and the twins' karaoke and of course graduation because if they don't let me, there's going to be Hades to pay-"

He laughed before cutting her off with a kiss that made Athena smile in accomplishment. He laughed.

That was the first and last thing they saw before the scenery changed this time though they witnessed everything happen backwards as someone pressed a rewind button. Memories flew by faster than the witches could realise, creating a vortex that sucked them back. The winds around the vortex grew intense as it felt as the narrow tunnel they were in began to move. The witches held onto each other.

Among the millions of memories that echoed, a brief snippet of a memory latched onto their consciousness vividly as they plunged back into reality.

A memory of dishevelled dirty-blonde hair and familiar blue eyes as a younger version of the girl hugged him, calling him dad. He looked as shocked as the trio did but returned the hug nonetheless.

***

At the compound :

The Mikaelsons lingered impatiently for the witches to wake up so they could understand what happened in 24 hours. Yesterday, they celebrated Christmas after being apart for seven years. Today, they waited for three members of their family to wake up.

The wait was agony. At random intervals, the Mikaelson witches trembled. Their magic sent out shockwaves as sparks flew from Freya and Hope's fingertips.

The vampires couldn't enter their minds either. It was driving them insane with worry. Every time they tried, they received an aneurysm. All they could do was pat their blushed fret faces dry as the witches remained mortally with them collapsed, yet they roamed in essence wherever they were.

_In SpongeBob's voice_ *a few hours later*

A seizure passed them, making an earthquake loud enough for the Mikaelsons to hold onto the safest furniture, the intensity increasing as their heartbeats elevated. Suddenly, it all stopped. The three witches woke up with an enormous gasp as they plunged into reality. They bolted upright from where they were lying down on the couches.

"What the bloody hell was that," Rebekah asked the witches, standing up from her crouched position, recovering from the earthquake felt through New Orleans as she pretended to ignore the glares sent her way.

"You have another daughter, Brother," Freya spoke as she observed Klaus.

She could see minute resemblances between them. The face structure was that of a Mikaelson, bold, beautiful and defined. Freya could see it, yet, there was one feature that boggled her about Athena. It was the eyes. They looked so familiar, but where did she see them? In her haze of thoughts and comparison, she almost forgot about her family, who were still unbelieving of Athena.

"That's impossible," Klaus scoffed as he reminded his family, who seemed to have forgotten. "The curse broke with Hope 17 years ago, not before that." Why could they fill such rancid thoughts in Hope's mind?

Thoughts of another daughter? That he would've abandoned. He'd never give up his child when he was abused enough in his youth to learn that lesson. Not purposely, at least. He thought Marcellus was dead all those centuries ago, and he was hunted viciously by Mikael alongside his siblings for centuries. They had to leave New Orleans. To keep Hope safe, the siblings divided the Hollow among them. Once again forced to abandon her to keep her safe.

"You indeed have another daughter," Davina stage whispered in a tone that was still loud enough for everyone to hear as she rubbed Hope's back in an effort of comfort as she regained her energy while Klaus continued to accuse.

Davina knew Klaus would never believe them, not without proof.

Just one look, just a gaze at the memories. Davina believed. Her existence. There was something in her gut that made her there. She was real. Klaus may have forgotten her, but she was real. She knew it, the quirk of Athena's lips, the crows' feet of her eyes. The silent stare, the pain she tried to hide and the mischievous smiles on their faces told a story. It was too true. It could not be a lure. She could see a story in their eyes, a tale of love and tragedy.

"She called you dad," Hope spoke, quieting the room.

"What?" Klaus questioned under his caught breath

"She called you dad." Hope repeated a little louder, looking her father in his eyes as she continued to speak, tears filling her eyes, "we watched a memory where you hugged her as she called you dad."

Her face flushed as her cheeks and nose became shiny, tears filling with emotions, as she tried to convince them of the truth, "A-and in another one, someone even called her a Mikaelson."

Klaus was perplexed again, wondering about the possibility, watching his daughter tear up. His daughter. Another one? His mind ran through his memories again. He didn't recall another scenario where he met someone who called him dad. Hope was the only one to call him Dad. They had to be lying, but why?

"Don't be ridiculous. It's not possible." Klaus said, "Stop filling Hope's head with these preposterous lies."

His accusatory tone and eyes softened as a tear escaped Hope's eyes, her teardrop falling to the floor, echoing in his mind. He stepped forward to go to her before Freya took his mind off her. He watched from the corner of his eye as Davina and Hayley hugged Hope to comfort her overwhelmed senses.

"Are you calling me a liar, Brother?" Freya asked in a dangerously determined tone. A trick they all knew meant she was challenging him, baiting him to challenge her. Something everyone knew he would fall for - after all, he was Niklaus Mikaelson.

"Prove it." He took the bait. "Since you are confident. Go ahead," Klaus challenged her back, his eyes slightly faltering at the fire in her eyes.

He would know if he had another child other than Hope, right?

"Where are you going?" Klaus asked as the witches got up from the couch.

"To prove it, since you asked so nicely," Davina answered before joining Hope and Freya in the basement.

"Good job," Kol spoke, the sarcasm oozing out of his body as he clapped Klaus' back before following his wife down to the magic room.

***

The Mikaelsons watched as the witches worked in their elements. It never failed to cause them to shiver. They were dangerous when they wished to be. Their lessons of centuries ago were reinforced as they continued to watch them. Never mess with witches, especially the Mikaelson Witches.

The witches went around the room with a determination they were yet to witness, shooing Kol away - who was eager to help with a 'not yet' glare that made him raise his arms in surrender.

Freya was frantic, searching for a specific page out of her mother's grimoires, calling out the names of different herbs to Davina even as she drew the blood of the Mikaelsons while Hope was setting up candles, finding crystals and drawing the required symbols.

When Hope finished placing the candles, she went to get the bag of salt for the circle to complete the ritual. Freya used her magic to pause Hope's movement as she continued to rummage through the old chests, not once looking at her. Freya flicked her wrist, pointing behind Hope towards the right-hand side. First, the Mikaelsons heard the creek of the box opening before they saw the box. She pointed towards a now-opened old mahogany wooden box with a rather intricate design on the top.

"Use the white chalk instead. We don't want to break the connection because of the tunnels," Freya spoke before she let out a triumphant 'aha' as she found the book she needed.

Davina and Hope shared a look before shrugging, each picking up a chalk to make a circle large enough to fit the family pivoted around Freya.

At the completion, a small violin note was audible. Hope gasped as she felt the magic surge through her body and into the barrier created by the spell. The chalk was much more accepting of their magic than salt. Why didn't they use it more often? She wondered. She felt more connected to her magic.

Freya wore her old talisman, a necklace in which she kept Finn and Elijah's Spirits, opened the beautiful leather bound journal to a blank page, took out a feathered ink tip pen, and asked if she could channel Kol and took out a knife and bowl for Klaus's blood.

Freya started chanting under her breath an old Vikings tale. The very one their mother sang, they realised. It had been a long time since the family heard their mother's song. The Candles lit up as Freya finished the Latin-infused Vikings tale. She wrote the full names of Niklaus and Athena on a piece of paper; Klaus's name in the Runic Alphabets {ᚾᛁᚲᛚᚨᚢᛋ} Athena's in Greek {Αθήνα}.

The candles roared as the blood spread across the page. Their blood had a golden tint added to the blood. It began swirling in recognition as Freya started to chant an ancient Greek spell with the help of one book they had not seen yet. The pages were a shade of golden rust with a brown rim. Tear marks and roughness on the paper stood out to them as the Greek Letters glowed in recognition, a couple of runes glowing golden alongside the letters.

She started chanting spells in a language no one knew of, or thereby recognised, her instincts as a witch guiding her. She went into a trance-like state while channelling Kol. Hope moved to Freya's left while Kol moved to Freya's right. Hope started chanting with Freya as Davina moved from behind the Mikaelsons and held on to Kol's hand before joining the chant.

Freya placed her palms down on the paper while Davina and Hope continued chanting. Davina had told everyone to make a circle around the chalk circle and join one at a time. So they did not overwhelm the witches, as they all possessed substantial power.

One by one, all the Mikaelsons joined, gasping softly as the raw magic surged through them. The winds picked up papers and flew as the flames grew brighter and taller. The Mikaelsons went into a trance-like state before they looked up, backs arched as their eyes turned into ravens as they no longer stood in the basement of their home in New Orleans.

Unknown to them, a shimmery light green and dark green surrounded them as the candle flame turned green. A blurred figure standing in the corner of the room, "Finally," she whispered.

Her whisper was lost to their ears as their souls travelled to explore the Memories of the Unknown Mikaelson.

***

I hope you all enjoyed reading! 

I will publish the next part after my exam tomorrow

I'll see you all soon,

Take Care & Warm Regards,

Superwholock's_wolf.