So I was having trouble finishing the next chapter of WoMD and there isn't a new chapter of "The Contract" or "Providence" to divert me, so decided to post this.

This is essentially my season six of TVD and I guess season one of TO. It will be based almost entirely in NOLA and follows directly after Loopholes. This is just a short prologue, but should give you some idea of where I am headed. No real idea of how many chapters this will end up or how regularly I'll be able to post.

I still don't have a beta - no doubt in part because I haven't bothered to look for one - so please point out errors.

They came together for a single purpose: to reach into oblivion.

None among them sure such a feat was possible, none of them sure of much of anything except that not trying was so much worse than failing. They each of them had been reduced, withered and while it was not possible to restore what was so recklessly destroyed, they had it within them to pull from the depths of the abyss the little more than a handful of their brethren that they held bonded.

Before 'The Fall' - as the destruction of the Other Side was now referred – they would not have attempted it, none of them would have so much as contemplated such an Act even had they believed themselves capable. The practice of Expression itself was, whilst not expressly prohibited, certainly frowned upon.

And the spell? The thing that they referred to as the Act because none of them wanted to utter such things aloud?

It was most assuredly forbidden. It was in essence against the balance, and in the past it would have been harshly punished. Those that attempted such Acts would find the Spirits most unforgiving. Those that departed should remain so. Yet following, once the balance was obliterated, it did not seem so unthinkable. Their number and their strength had been so depleted that were they to fail to act they would most assuredly be consigned to a place as lowly in the peaking order as humans.

What could be worse than that? What consequences were there when the Spirits no longer existed? One might go so far as to consider it a natural product of The Fall. This is what they told themselves, none of them willing to voice such things, to share their doubts and concerns. What they were doing was against everything they believed in, but so disenchanted were they - so utterly bereaved and lost – that it seemed as though they were out of options.

Qetsiyah had betrayed them, the witch they had come to New Orleans in order to assist had cared for nothing excepting her own selfish agenda. The woman had done nothing to prevent Silas' act of destruction, she had even gone so far as to draw upon it to further her revenge. She had stood by whilst her sisters were diminished as though it didn't matter, as though they didn't matter. They were sure that there would come a reckoning for that, there had to be. Didn't there?

But whatever else the Betrayer had done she had granted them the means to commit the Act that before The Fall would have made them outcasts. It was Qetsiyah that had bonded each of the twelve to one of the more powerful witch ancestors – it was she who had explained how one might bring such a soul back among the living. And it was she who had advised them of what was to take place in New Orleans that very day.

The woman who betrayed them, used them and then once they were no longer of much use tossed them aside and moved on to their NOLA sisters and their Ancestral magic to continue her selfish campaign. That woman had given them an opportunity to undo just a little of the damage she had done – she had given them both the means and will to do it. It was her betrayal that now necessitated they do precisely what each of them would have scorned others for attempting.

They were going to bring them back, and then they together were going to restore the balance by the only means now possible.

They stood in a circle, hand in hand, doubts buried deep. Off in the distance a battle was taking place, once more there was a Supernatural bloodbath but this time they were in place to take advantage. This time they would not stand by whilst the heavens fell. This time they would Act.

Though the battle was some distance away they could feel the building power practically vibrating through their bones. None had ever felt such raw power before, none had ever attempted to tap into such a thing - opened themselves to the darkness. They were open now, but they did not reach for it yet, something within them told them it was not yet time.

It lapped at them, like gentle waves caressing the shore, inviting them to delve into the depths of its ocean. Yet they held back, not yet ready to dive in, standing upon the shore with just the tips of their toes within reach of the waves. It was not time.

Suddenly they felt the power withdraw, like the waters receding from the shoreline prior to a tsunami. There was a moment of panic that they all in their shared mind experienced, a dread that they had failed before they really began as they recognized what had happened. Another had drawn upon the power they needed, another had taken what they required. They were powerless to pull it back, to snatch it from that empowered grip, they knew and so they did nothing.

Made no attempt.

Waited.

The power increased tenfold, held within that other's grasp it was wielded with deadly intent. It grew and grew and then they sensed it move closer. Sensed her move closer to where they waited. There was a malice to the being that moved ever closer, it meant them harm – yet they were incapable of moving. Now their shared mind wondering if they were but waiting to die for they could not save themselves any more than those who perished in The Fall.

They were going to die.

It was certain.

The hand of death reached out.

And then that malicious will withdrew, spared them from judgment – how or why they did not know. What they did know was that the time had come. Together, perfectly in tune, they began and the power crashed into them with all the force of nature at her most vicious.

The twelve ceased to be, utterly consumed by the power they sought to tame until they were no more. In their place the twelve they carried breathed deep, taking a brief moment to rejoice in their return to the land of the living, before one amongst them broke the silence.

"What now Ayana?" she softly asked.

The woman turned to face her, her gaze a heavy weight, a judgment on her soul.

"Now we bring an end to the plague you unleashed upon the earth."