Dusk arrived early that day. Esther was eager for the sun to descend. A witch works best by moonlight, the sun brings light and hides nothing. Dark magic was best kept hidden in the shadows where it manifests at it's strongest. Besides, she needed to hide herself as best she could, not only from the eyes of these troublesome townsfolk, but from the informants of her sons. No doubt Klaus and Elijah would be ready for her next move, and the ritual would not work if they came invading upon her. Her fear grew with every second of dwindling sunlight. She rubbed her hands together in an effort to warm them but she knew the icy touch upon her skin was not aroused by the breeze that skulked through this graveyard. No. It was the result of her anxiety. If she failed, if any part of is spell went awry, not only might she find herself returned to the other side, but she might end the life of her son. Her most damaged son. Klaus. He needed her, whether he knew it or not. A mother knows when her child needs saving.

Her efforts to bring Elijah back to her had been thwarted by his love for Klaus. He had been returned, his dreams of violent memories and wishful desires all ineffective the moment he saw his brothers face. He and Finn had always shared a deep belief in loyalty. There was no means of bringing her family back unless it was by Klaus' wish to accept her as his mother. This was the only way to bring them back to her.

"Mother, the circle is made."

"We wait for the first star. Come Finn, wait with me."

He took his place by her side, glancing at his pocket watch. Finn never cared for the beauty of gazing upon the sun setting, nor was he particularly keen on how much the spectacle reminded him of Sage and how many setting suns they had watched, all those years ago when they had been young and in love. His eyes focused on the gravestones surrounding them. Death seemed intent on lingering in his mind.

Esther didn't notice her sons discomfort. She watched the sky, wondering how long it might be before she had control of this damned town and of her family. Deep within her, a pained memory seemed eager to rise up and seize her. The memory of her husband who Klaus had claimed was alive and out for blood. How often had she dwelled upon her wish to crush him as he'd crushed her. Maybe she might find the chance, though Mikael would never make it easy.

She sighed and glanced at her son, "I never told you, my sweet boy, of how much pain he caused me."

"You mean father?" Finn frowned at the thought of him.

"No. Klaus. When he came into the world, he tore through me and kept me awake every night for a fortnight, screaming and howling. The only face that stopped his cries was that of Mikael. When he was four, he grew fond of the dogs in our village. I always thought perhaps he might have felt the wolf in him and seen it too in the eyes of the hounds. Elijah bought a pup home once. A scrawny thing, fur black as the night, eyes yellow and wide. Klaus loved it so..."

Finn wasn't keen to see his mother lingering on the ghosts of their family's past, instead averting his eyes to the sky, noticing a single silver light, "Mother, the star..."

Esther nodded, holding a hand to her heart as she continued, "Then Mikael came home. Saw the smile of my child's face and struck him down. It was the first time he laid a hand upon Klaus. I begged he stop. Then he saw the pup, tore it from Klaus' hands and took it outside... He broke it's neck with his hands and threw it in the river..."

"Mother. You must not dwell on what's past. We can save our family... But not with Niklaus the way he has become," Finn placed his hands, or rather Vincent's hands, on her shoulders. He saw the pain in her, and the anger. He knew it all too well.

She smiled at him, momentary grief turned to fiery determination, "I know, I know. When he is saved, we shall be together again."

With one final look at the dark sky, Esther swore her intentions upon the star, drawing a dagger from her belt. Turning around, she faced the five men her son had bound, a werewolf holding each one so they stood facing her. Rich men, taken from the finest of New Orleans households, each shaking and speaking into the cloth binding their mouths. Each man would give his life and his mortal soul to the spell. A smile crept upon her lips, "Gentlemen, forgive the imposition, but you are needed for the progress of our kind. Now, on your knees."

Finn looked away, towards the silver birch tree that hid from him the view of the graveyard entrance. How alike his family way to that tree, he fathomed. Old and ashen, yet appearing as young as it's kin, forever looking upon the dead.

"My son, bring the fire."

Answering his mother, Finn took a candle from the steps of the tomb he stood upon, shoes wet with blood as he handed the flame to his mother, glancing at the row of men whose necks were open, a river of blood staining his mother skirt as she chanted an incantation. He felt his blood thirst rising but the gravity of the moment gave him control, his focus on his mother. Shadows danced upon the gravestones around them, a cold gust of wind passing through them, the whispers of the dead filling he air. Most of the wolves ran or moved away, until it was only his mother and himself. Esther cried out in pain, pushing away his hands as he moved to aid her, her eyes white and bright as she fell to her knees, speaking into the candlelight, the flame dancing with her every breath, changing from orange to blue.

With an almighty howl of the wind, Esther cried out a name in anguish and despair.

"Niklaus!"

"You know, the next time you decide to go get caught and tortured by your witch bitch mother, can you at least try not to make a mess when you get in."

Elijah smiled at Hayley's jest as he walked toward her, noticing she was washing the blood from his shirt and the bed sheet. He frowned, "Hayley, we can buy replacements."

Smiling, she shook her head, rolling up her sleeves as she wrung the water from the sheet and hung it on the laundry rail, "why waste perfectly good linen, besides, I need somthing to do. Jackson isn't keen on talking to anyone, the pack are pretty much dead to me, and Marcel has been a little too preoccupied with his own secrets to meet me. Sow times I think we might never get this town back."

Elijah reached out and took her soapy hand in his eyes bearing down into hears as he spoke, "Things will change. You'll hold her again. Stay here and stay safe, I'm sure my mother will soon realise she is gravely mistaken..."

Pulling her hand from his she shrugged, drying her hands, letting her hair down, "I'm not in the mood for reassurances and empty words, Elijah. I want my baby and I'll do anything to get this town back. I'm happy your here and safe, but I'm not gonna stay here and wait while you try and make peace with your mother."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving her as she walked away. She was right. They were no closer to gaining control, Esther had the advantage. If only Niklaus might awake form his reverie and work with him. His brother failed to mention what exactly had happend but Elijah knew Klaus had experienced something grave for him to remain so distant. When he had fought to rise from his mothers witchcraft, Niklaus had sat by his side and brought him back, but since then he had not left his room. What horrors had his mother spoken to him? What did he know that had changed him so?