Prologue:

-Spirits Gathering-

The Gift

"Do you know why you have been brought here, little one?"

Did he know? He shook his head, dark locks falling over his eyes as he did. His eyebrows fell into alignment, a frown marring his face at the stubborn locks. Bringing a hand up to move the tresses of hair from his gaze, he met the eyes of the four women who had called out to him. They were all dark and beautiful creatures. Yet only one face was familiar to him. He had known this face, seen the sadness in her eyes the moment he met her gaze upon his arrival in this open meadow. Her dark tresses framed her face as she stepped forward, a gentle smile along her face.

"We've brought to this side, little one, because you are destined to atone for your mother's mistakes. The spirits have given your siblings many chances over the years and not once have they done anything."

He frowned. "But I am a mortal," he spoke, the light accent of his voice warm in the sun-kissed woman's ears. "Surely my siblings cannot try again? They do have an advance."

"And so do you my dear," spoke the other woman. She was the only of the four with fair skin. Her eyes, blue like the morning sky, staring into his with a pity that caused worry to stir in his stomach. "Your mother never told you dear child. She was selfish and cruel, nothing a witch should be."

He turned his head towards Ayanna, pleading for her to clarity what the redheaded woman meant. She bit her bottom lip and lowered her head as if to hide the misting of her eyes before she looked into his eyes.

"Your death was no accident, Henrik."

The child stared into her eyes. "What?"

Ayanna lowered her head, tears starting to fall. "Esther was a woman of manipulation. She never truly loved any of her children, nor her husband or her lover. She was woman who simply wanted to create something powerful. And when that powerful began to fight back, she tried to play the victim. She did so with your father, and then her lover. She started a war child."

His own mother.

Henrik felt his knees start to shake at this news. His mother did not love any of them? Not even Niklaus? He could remember his mother not doing a thing as her husband belittled and abused his brother.

"What has she kept from me?" he asked looking into the eyes of the fair skinned woman. She smiled gently.

"Your craft," she answered. "You, as your brother Kol was before his transformation, are the only witches of Esther bloodline. Kol knew he was destined to be a warlock but over time, as the vampirism set in, he lost his connection with the witches. But he holds them in high esteem. He understands their pain, sees that it would have been his own."

Henrik smiled gently at that. His brother, no matter how deranged, knew women were not playthings. Unlike Klaus, who he had seem use and throw them away. He rarely killed a woman in his angry. Men on the other hand, were left to drop like flies as the centuries turned like a tide.

"We called you here to take you back to the world of the living," the woman continued. "But there will be a price. We will be taking a life to bring you back."

Henrik did not like that idea but nodded. He remembered Ayanna telling him once that nature was a balance and if thrown off course, chaos would rage. Every war started was due to the upsetting of nature. Even on the other side, where the dead watched with twisted inclination, Henrik felt the tug of pain as nature unleashed its wrath.

The redhead witch stepped forward, the flowing hem of her dress rustling along the tall grass. Another witch followed, her robes indication she was of another time era. Her heart-shaped face and sweet deep colored eyes made him smile. "Henrik," she spoke his name, the tone of her voice was maternal as she walked with the other woman. Her hand grazed his cheek. "Of all your siblings, your death was too early. You were to let your clan survive."

His family line would have lived? He would have had descendants. Henrik could not hide the smile that lit up his eyes. "Child," he turned his attention towards the redhead woman. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. Ayanna took his hands and leaned in, planting a kiss to his forehead. "Be safe child. And be warned, because we are not only giving you back your powers, but as you are a Mikaelson, you must bear the burden of bloodlust."

He swallowed, feeling the lump slide down his throat and into his stomach. He should have known. It would not easy. And he had a gut feeling it was going to get worse.

"I am ready."