Chapter 7

Disclaimer: TVD characters belong to L.J. Smith and the CW

AN: Thank you to everyone is following, has favorited and reviewed this story! I love getting the notifications and knowing people are enjoying this fic. And thank you to honestgrins for beta-ing

The rain cleared up earlier than expected, for which Gwen was thankful. The ground would still be soft, but trekking through the woods would be less hazardous. Taking the day to get ready for the ritual, she made a list of the necessary supplies.

The new age store in Mystic Falls was definitely a tourist trap, but Gwen was able to get everything she needed. Signs littered the walls about magical events that may have occurred in the town, though she doubted the owner knew much of the town's true supernatural history.

There were only two other customers in the shop when Gwen entered. Two brunette women who were probably in their late twenties stood laughing a couple aisles over. Gwen could tell they weren't practitioners of the craft. They were just killing time and satisfying a curiosity. If they bought anything, it would probably be a candle for luck or romance. Gwen didn't mind these kinds of passersby: It was refreshing to see people who saw magic as a force for good instead of destruction, which had been her primary experience. She quickly gathered and paid for the items on her list.

After the magic shop, Gwen stopped by a sporting goods store for a pair of sturdy hiking boots. Satisfied with her purchases, she slid her sunglasses down from their resting place on the top of her head as she stepped outside. It was nice to see the sun after so many days of clouds. It was also going to make her hike the next day much easier. She wouldn't have to worry too much about getting stuck or sliding on muddy, wet ground.

Gwen ducked inside the café, intending to treat herself to a cup of tea and a croissant sandwich. The café was busy, full of high school students, but she was able to get a seat at one of the high-top tables by the window. Despite her mocking of Mystic Falls, she found the view peaceful and appreciated the distraction from the ritual.

Nervous about the magic she would have to perform, her mind seemed to hunt for further distractions until her eyes landed on Matt just outside. He was talking to a shorter boy with shaggy brown hair. Involved in what looked like a very serious conversation, they barely avoided running into other people on the sidewalk.

Gwen was about to look away when Matt caught her eye. She gave a small smile in acknowledgement, but turned her attention back to her food. Glancing up again, the boys were nowhere to be seen until she felt a presence at her side. She turned to see Matt standing next to her, a small smirk on his lips.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead," she said, gesturing to the empty seat. He slid he book bag off his shoulder to the ground as he sat across from her.

"Learn anything interesting at school?"

"Not really. I haven't seen you at The Grill in a couple of days. I thought you might have left."

Gwen was relieved to see he wasn't necessarily happy about her still being here, nor did he sound upset that she might have left without saying goodbye.

"I needed a break from burgers and fries, but I will be leaving town the day after tomorrow," she said, taking a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

"Found what you were looking for then? Your friend must be happy."

"She is; she's very excited to see everything I've found. I'm happy to be going home, I didn't think I'd miss it this much. And I've only been gone for two weeks!"

Matt smiled at her words, thinking it was nice she had such a strong connection somewhere. She was different from the people that usually passed through town, especially since she had not brought any supernatural drama with her. "You should stop by The Grill later. Dinner and drinks on the house, consider it a going away gift."

"I can't say no to free food, or alcohol. Sure your boss won't mind?"

"Like I said, they don't pay much attention."

"It sounds like it's a miracle the place even stays open."

Matt laughed, though it sounded hollow. "I don't know about a miracle, but they're very lucky."

"So how do you manage working as much as you do on top of school?" she asked, deciding one or two personal questions couldn't hurt.

"It's not too bad," he answered with a shrug. "My grades aren't stellar, but they're not bad. The worst part is that I had to quit football."

Part of her wanted to ask about the "had," but she decided to tease him instead. "I knew it. You were the big football star weren't you?"

Matt laughed again, a real laugh this time. "I wouldn't say I was the star, but I was pretty good. I'm guessing you weren't on the cheer squad?"

"For about a month," she conceded, feigning shame. "The captain started getting really controlling. The power went to her head, I guess, so I quit. I don't think I ever made it to a game again after that."

"You missed out. Even if I can't play, it's always fun to go to a game. Did you play any other sports?"

"Not really, I started running and took up yoga. All of the health benefits and none of the drama," she said. She checked her phone for the time. "I should get going. I'll stop by later."

The Grill was the busiest Gwen had ever seen it. She had to push her through a mass of people and just narrowly avoided having a tray of drinks dumped on her. Surprised to find an open seat at the bar, Gwen was quick to pounce on it.

Cheers erupted from behind her, apparently from a group of boys over by the pool tables. They seemed to be celebrating, but a few were scowling — probably sore losers. A tap on the wrist brought her attention back to the bar. Matt stood in front of her, a shot of tequila in his hand.

"You made it," he nearly shouted.

She nodded, accepting the shot.

Matt couldn't really talk much with how busy it was, but he promised to take a break after her meal. Gwen wouldn't say she regretted coming, but this wasn't the atmosphere she was expecting. Maybe it was the stress of the ritual, but the chaos was really grating on her nerves and the alcohol wasn't helping. She was relieved when Matt came to get her, but that relief quickly became confusion as she followed him to the alleyway behind The Grill.

"Is this where you bring all the girls?" she teased, though the quiet was very welcome.

"No, I just thought it'd be easier to sneak out the back. Plus I was able to grab this," he said, holding up an unopened bottle of tequila.

Gwen took two steps toward him and took the bottle from his hand. "So, not only are you skipping out on work, but you also stole this from them?"

"Yeah, well, I've enjoyed talking to you and wanted to see you off properly. Besides, I've covered for so many people, they owe me," he figured. "Are we gonna drink that or stand continue standing in the dirty alley?"

She smirked at his sass and pushed past him, making her way to the motel. "I don't have any cups, so I hope you don't mind drinking out of the bottle," she said as Matt caught up with her.

"I think we'll be ok," he said, taking the bottle back and opening it. He offered her the first drink, which she accepted. "So what will you do when you get back home?"

She shrugged; she hadn't really given much thought to what would happen when she got home. "Finish my online classes, work at my mom's place. Nothing exciting. I'm still figuring out the future."

"Aren't we all?" he smirked and took a drink from the bottle. "What does your mom do?"

"She owns a bar. She sometimes has me work as a waitress, but only when she's desperate or I'm begging for extra cash. She doesn't like me working there. It's not quite as nice as The Grill."

"You've just visited when the good customers are in. Trust me, we get some pretty sketchy characters."

"Really?" Gwen asked, disbelief coloring her tone. "In this quiet little town?"

"Again, you just chose to visit at a good time."

"Are you trying to scare me into leaving?" They had reached the motel, and Gwen was starting to feel a bit tipsy. She saw the counter clerk raise a judging eyebrow at them, which probably rose higher when she slipped and almost fell on the stairs. Thankfully, she was holding onto the railing and was able to steady herself. Matt had reached out to help her and his hand, which was now resting on her lower back, was not totally unwelcome.

"You ok?"

"Yes," she answered, feeling her face warm from embarrassment. "The stairs are just a little slick. Can you hold this?" she asked, handing him the bottle so she could dig her keys out of her purse.

As soon as she was inside, Gwen kicked off her shows and pulled off her jacket, letting it fall to the floor. "So what are all the dark secrets of Mystic Falls?" she asked, plopping down on the bed.

Matt shook his head as he kicked off his own shoes. "Oh you know, the usual: mysterious deaths, absurd conspiracies, and I'm sure enough affairs to keep a daytime soap running for several seasons."

Gwen laughed and took the bottle back from him. The burn of the tequila was bothering her less and less. The warmth spreading through her body was helping her to relax and enjoy the mindless conversation.

"I wish it was a nice, quiet town," Matt said, suddenly serious. "It used to be."

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked, rolling on her side so she could look at him. He wore a small frown, accompanied by a crease on his forehead.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head before offering a small smile. "Things just used to be better."

"People always say that about the past, though. Maybe it just seems better because you got through whatever was going on and it doesn't seem that difficult anymore? You know?"

"That's very insightful," Matt said, setting the almost empty bottle on the nightstand. He repositioned himself so that he was lying on his side, facing her.

"Maybe. It's more likely we're drunk."

"So smart."

"Oh, shut up," she said before leaning in to kiss him.

Matt was quiet when he left the next morning; she didn't hear him at all. She found a note on the nightstand that wished her luck. It seemed a far cry from his awkward behavior their first morning after. Shrugging, Gwen focused on being able to get out of bed and functioning. She had to pack, get out to the where the manor had once been, and find the family cemetery. She did not have time to worry about the actions of teenage boys.

Within the hour, she was showered, dressed, and packed. She regretted drinking as much as she did. Her head was killing her, and she found herself wishing for clouds and rain again when she walked outside into the bright sun. Thankful she had sunglasses for once, Gwen grabbed complimentary water bottles from the motel office to stave off her hangover.

The drive was longer and more difficult than she had anticipated. While the roads were still there, they were not easy to see. More than once, Gwen would miss her turn and have to drive for a mile or two before she could find a way to turn around. She thought it was odd. Mystic Falls seemed like one of those places that were very proud of its history. Why would the roadways to one of its oldest plantations not be better maintained? She supposed she should be thankful for the town's lack of interest in this plantation, though; performing the ritual would have been impossible in a popular tourist location.

By the time she reached the end of the road, it was after noon. She cursed herself for sleeping in that morning and getting lost so many times. Gwen pulled off to the side, grabbed her bag, and hopped out of the car. Finding the old footpath took a few minutes. According to the town records, one had been made in an attempt to make the plantation a tourist stop in the mid-nineties. However, the plan had been abandoned shortly after the path was finished. No reason why. All production was just stopped.

The path was obviously overgrown. Grass and weeds pushed their way through the cracks in the bricks, and it was littered with brown leaves, sticks and what looked like ivy. Honestly, Gwen could be barely make out the path, but it was better than nothing; at least she knew she was going in the right direction. As Gwen worked to not trip over a twig or vine, she thought that abandoning this place was a good idea. She had been walking for a half hour, and had yet to come across any sign of a plantation. If where she parked her car had been the place for the parking lot, she could not imagine this becoming a successful tour spot. It was way too much work to get there.

It was another half hour before she finally reached the iron gates of the old plantation. They were not too tall, maybe six feet. They covered with ivy, but Gwen could make out a chain joining them together. She supposed it was meant to keep out trespassers, but the brick walls on either side had deteriorated enough that Gwen was able to find a low enough spot to climb over.

Once she was on the other side of the wall, she found herself facing the ruins of an old manor. The walls were rotted, completely gone from the frame in some areas. Glass was missing from all of the windows, probably had been knocked out over the years. The only things intact were the columns in front of the house. It was hard to imagine this was once the most impressive estate in the town.

Swinging her backpack in front of her, Gwen pulled out a layout of the old estate she had been lucky to find at City Hall. It had the structures marked on it, as well as where the farmland began. However, not all of the smaller structures were labeled, so she was going to have guess where the family crypt was. She hoped her past self didn't merit a place inside the crypt, that was too creepy even for her, but it would be a good place to start.

Looking around, Gwen tried to stifle any disappointment. She had thought being back here would have jolted some of her past memories, but she could not recall anything more than she had dreamt about over the last year.

Crypts and family cemeteries were often kept in secluded places, so Gwen decided to keep close to the property's edge. Maybe she would find something along the tree line, though most of the property was more forest than empty land. Gwen groaned; this was going to take forever. She should have woken up earlier — and not have been as drunk.

She made a full circle around the property until she was standing in front of the house again. She had not come across anything in the "clearing" or in the closer rows of trees. She sighed and bit her lip. There must have been a lot more growth than she had thought.

Looking at the map again, Gwen tried to figure out which structures she may have passed during her walkabout. Between the destroyed estate and darkness, it was hard to tell what she had walked by, but she knew she had not walked by a private cemetery. Gwen shivered. Not only was it dark and cold, but the wind was making it even almost unbearable. She was running out of time.

"Fuck it," she said, folding the map and placing into her pocket. She was going to have to go into the woods, and hope her intuition was right. She set off in the direction of the guesthouse, thinking that maybe they kept the more personal buildings separate from the farm.

Walking through the woods at night was, in general, just a bad idea. The flashlight hardly did anything except let her see a few feet in front of her. Even then, she tripped over or was caught on several plants. Add the fact that this was Mystic Falls, and this hike was just suicidal.

There were towns all over the world that seemed to draw unusual amount of supernatural activity. Mystic Falls was not all that special in the grand scheme of things, but it had experienced a lot of vampire and werewolf activity in recent years, which led to most witches avoiding the area. Rumors travelled fast in the witch community, the latest being that the original family of vampires had taken up residence in the area. Gwen wanted to believe that their presence was only a rumor, especially since she was not in full control of her powers. Nothing odd had happened in Mystic Falls since she had arrived. Perhaps they had moved on. She just wanted to do the ritual, go home, and avoid all involvement with vampires and werewolves.

Working with those creatures never ended well for her kind.

Gwen tripped over yet another root, causing her to lose balance until she caught herself on something hard and smooth. Pointing the flashlight down, she found it was an almost-intact headstone. She squatted in front of it and brushed off the front. Underneath the dust and erosion, she could make out the name "Salvatore" and "1789." This was it. She had, thankfully, stumbled upon the old Salvatore cemetery.

Standing up, she moved the flashlight around her. There was a scattering of headstones outside the family crypt, about forty feet in front of her. Most of the headstones were simple and eroded. As she inspected a few, trying to figure out if there was any kind of order to them, she realized some had decorative elements to them: flowers and vines framing the names; maybe an angel or cross; a couple were even adorned with guns.

Eventually, she found some that seemed to be more clustered together than the rest. She bent down and, once again, began cleaning off the face of the stone. It was for Lillian Salvatore, who died in 1858. Gwen knew this name, more from research than memories. She was Damon Salvatore's mother, and her past self's mother-in-law. Knowing she was close, Gwen moved to the next one. She had only cleaned off about half the stone before making out her own name. Well, her past self's name.

"Thank god," Gwen mumbled, setting down her bag to pull out the candles and herbs she needed for the spell. It was a bit difficult, since she had to hold the flashlight and dig through the bag with one hand.

Gwen tried to ignore how weird this was: performing a spell to pull your own magic from yourself. Past self. A version of her was six feet under. Reincarnation was not rare in the witch world, but it wasn't exactly boasted about either, for safety reasons. What was rare was a witch having to perform this particular spell, meaning the witch's spirit had not received a proper burial and, therefore, was unable to move on.

It was a common during the witch-hunts in Salem and throughout Europe: A witch's spirit tended to hover between the spirit realm and the physical world. Those not marked for reincarnation, usually haunted the places they had lived or died. Some acted as what a mortal would call a ghost, but most just gave a place a haunted or eerie vibe to wherever they decided to linger. Mortals would feel a chill in these places, which they usually ignored, choosing to believe it was their mind was playing trick on them. Those marked for reincarnation were eventually reborn and had to perform this spell in order to have full access to their magic.

Gwen took a moment to calm herself, quieting her mind as best she could and steadying her breathing. She was ready. She lit the candles and switched off the flashlight; she needed this to be as traditional as possible. Yes, she was superstitious — she was a witch after all.

She began the chant, repeating the antiquated language three times, as she added the herbs and other ingredients. It was an offering of sorts, meant to encourage the natural forces to aid in her spell. Gwen was never sure if that part was more symbolic than functional, but it seemed to be working. She felt the air charge with magic. The wind picked up too, whipping her around her face. She ignored it and continued to chant, her voice increasing in volume with each repetition.

The wind grew deafening, drowning out even her own voice. Gwen felt the magic flowing through her; it was starting to make her dizzy. Please let this work, and soon, she thought.

The ingredients, which had been simmering in a bowl at the base of the headstone, suddenly burst into flames. It startled Gwen, but she managed to keep from stuttering in her chant. The next moment, she was hit with a force that knocked her backward. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, and she grew so hot she thought she would combust.

The wind ceased, the immediate silence unnerving. Gwen was still on the ground, struggling with the after effects of the spell. Her body temperature and breathing returned to normal, but she was still dizzy and could feel blood trickling out of her nose. But she also felt magic humming through her body, stronger than it ever had.

The spell had worked.