Author's Note: I'm new here so: hi, everyone! This is just a one-shot, mostly about a cruel beast called time that tends to devour everything and the purpose we try to find amidst it.


Empty.

That's how he usually felt. Mostly because he was too well-bred to feel bored, least of all show it.

His father might have been a bit more of the rough side, but his mother had raised him – all of them, though it was hard to tell by some of his siblings – well.

He'd learned all important courtesies from her.

Rules.

And that comprehended everything from respecting his elders, keeping his back straight and always speaking in a calm voice to never breaking his word or attacking an unarmed enemy.

Elijah had tried to live by his mother's teachings the best he could, but life had proven it hard if not impossible at times. He had strayed from the qualities he admired, qualities he believed he possessed, wanted to possess. It made him sad and sometimes it made him angry, but mostly it made him feel empty as if he couldn't recognize the person he'd once been in the man he had become.

Still, he found himself searching for traditional values in people. Maybe he tried to prove to himself that the world hadn't become as shallow and bleak as he saw it. Maybe he was just tired and couldn't maintain an objective view.

Anyway, after a thousand years he considered the courtesies elementary. He didn't have to think when he followed the simplest of them. But, then again, he tortured himself for days, if not weeks or months, if he broke his principles.

Right now as he stood in front of a burning fireplace, his one hand leaning against the mantelpiece and the other clutching a glass of scotch, he couldn't help but think back on his life. It happened often during those long black nights, when he didn't feel like resting and he had no other distractions to demand his immediate attention.

Quite truthfully, the past few months had been difficult it that sense. All of his life… no not life, existence, he had had a mission, some sort of goal.

One part of his thousand years on this earth he'd spent helping his brother to find a way to lift the curse that had been laid upon him and the other part he'd spent running as he hatched a plan to kill him.

Now it was all over. Klaus might not have been dead, but the curse was broken and they had become a family again. Sort of. He couldn't say he trusted his brother or that he didn't harbor any negative feelings against him any longer, but he still loved him. That hadn't changed even after everything they'd done to each other.

Elijah had no purpose anymore. And though he'd dreamed of the day he'd be free of this burden placed on his shoulders, he'd never actually thought about what he'd do once it was all over.

He supposed he hadn't really expected it ever to be over. Not since the curse and Klaus had kept him occupied for a whole millennium.

But as unbelievable it was, his mission was finished, he was free. And though it should have meant celebrations and perhaps even allowing himself to smile, relax a little, all he felt was empty.

Because this wasn't a life, it was an existence. Not that Elijah hadn't lived. He had, he really had… once upon a time.

He had so many memories. He had been to so many places, met so many people.

Only memories sometimes seemed like a curse themselves. These places he'd known had ceased to exist or changed too much to be recognized for what they'd once been and those people he'd befriended were dead. And realizing that he'd never be there, somewhere, again, among them, whoever they were, was incredibly sad.

Elijah smiled at the burning logs, watching as they slowly turned into embers. He raised his glass and tilted it towards the fireplace before he took a long, thoughtful sip.

He missed the past when the world was different. When there were no cell phones or laptops and TVs were smaller and had black and white screens. When men rushed to the movie theatre to see such timeless beauties as Katherine Hepburn or Rita Hayworth. They had something mysterious about them, he liked that.

People had class back then, style, and a much better taste in music.

Yes, the music, he thought fondly. He had been in the Palomar Ballroom in the August of 1935 on that faithful night when Benny Goodman played there. Later it was deemed that with that performance he'd triggered the swing era. It had been one spectacular evening, truly. Great music and food, flowing drinks and splendid company.

Four years later the place burned to the ground, proving, once again, that nothing lasts.

When Elijah was younger, much younger, and a human still, he'd never imagined that the great powers of the world could ever fall.

The Byzantine Empire or the Holy Roman Empire seemed as if set in stone. How could they ever fall? How could they ever be destroyed?

And if Elijah had lived out his natural life span and died as normal people do, nothing would have changed in his eyes. He wouldn't have witnessed how the boarders of the formerly known Eastern Roman Empire shrunk more and more. He wouldn't have learned of the fall of Constantinople and the death of the Marble Emperor.

People used to believe that one day he would awaken again and claim back what once was his, restoring the glory of his empire. But he never did. With his death the Roman Empire was finally vanquished, leaving behind one hell of a legacy.

And to think that a little more than thousand years before that, Alaric, the King of Visigoths, had sacked the greatest city in the world – Rome. He wondered if people had once seen that as the end of the world…

That's why the thought of the history teacher, Alaric Saltzman, made him smile. It was odd to see such a regular man carry such an epic name.

Still, the lesson remained the same – in time everything crumbles. Old empires and mighty kingdoms all turn into dust, people come and go, and even love cannot withstand time.

Only longing lasts forever, it seemed. Longing for things that had slipped away.

Elijah's mind flickered back to Tatia and Katerina and then finally to Elena. His love for the originator of the Petrova line was long dead with his human self. The thought of Katerina only managed to make his heart grow colder than it already was and his face turn stony.

But Elena… there was a certain light in her that he couldn't deny. She was selfless and tactful, but also smart.

If many others in her stead would have been glad to be turned immortal and have the chance to spend an eternity with the man she loved, Elena hadn't wanted any of it, not even for Stefan.

She might have been awfully young, but at the same time she acknowledged her lack of life experience and admitted that she knew still very little of love. Perhaps that meant she knew more than could be expected from her.

The logs in the fireplace had turned to ashes and the first rays of sun were peeking through the trees and highlighting the somber, grey sky.

Elijah drained his glass and set in on the mantelpiece with a soft clink. Dwelling on the past was not smart, it was exhausting to the mind and brought only sorrow to the heart. He needed to learn to live again, find a new horizon to strive for. And he would. Not today, probably, but he would…


One more thing: be kind and tell me what you think.