"Play the opening like a book, the middlegame like a magician and the endgame like a machine."
-Rudolph Spielmann-
The gentle hum of water filled the, otherwise, quiet room.
Antique gold swirled in abstract patterns into the granite flooring, blending seamlessly into the cabinets that lined the equally antiquated sink. Mirrors trimmed in black and gold, with depictions of meadows around their edges, lined the parameter of the spacious bathroom. Delicately hand carved granite steps led up to a massive tub shaped like a sundial and covered by a sandstone archway with the same patterns as the equally stonework flooring.
A mural depicting witches gathering around a giant Magnolia tree decorated the high vault ceiling, while the LeRoux family emblem sat mezzotint directly below it.
Scented oils and soaps laid in wait around the tub, as a bath bomb made the once clear water brim with foam and bubbles.
Sighing contently, Arsetti stripped and lowered herself into the water. Allowing its warmth and scents of lavender, vanilla and pink lotus to lull her into a state of bliss.
Quietly, she let her thoughts roam back over her eventful first day home. Scowling slightly when she remembered what happened in the alley.
"Setti!" Called Fe loudly, from somewhere down the stairs. "I'm home, where you at?"
"In the bathtub upstairs, door's open!" Yelled Arsetti, as she fixed the rolled-up towel behind her head. She could hear Fe's heavy footsteps as he made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Delicately sniffing the air, he frowned. "Girl, why the hell you smell like a brewery that was hanging out at a slaughter house all night and sprayed some perfume on it to try to cover up the funk?" Waving his hand in front of his face disgusted, he went to the nearby pantry and pulled out a dark blue bottle.
"Baby, you better try this." He laughed. "Cause that little lavender and vanilla is not about to cut that smell." Handing her the bottle, he took a seat on one of the tub stairs.
"So, what happen at Rousseau's that got you smelling like a back-alley dumpster cat?" He inquired. "Don't tell me you got out there fighting on your first day home?" He scoffed playfully, raising his eyebrow.
Shaking her head, she pointed a soapy finger at her cousin. "First, I hate you and your sensitive ass nose and two, no I didn't." She began with a smirk and roll of her eyes. "Before I tell you what happen, how bout you tell me where the hell you ran off too?" She countered accusingly.
Unfazed, he answered calmly. "I went over to Lamont's to keep him company for a while. His wife working a graveyard shift and he was kind of lonely."
"His wife's gonna whoop your home-wrecking ass if she ever finds out." Chuckled Arsetti. "Fe, Why is it that every boyfriend you ever had, has a wife or girlfriend when you meet them?"
"Oh, I know you're not talking, Setti?" Countered Fe sassily. "You know what, we are not even about to get into this one. We both a damn mess when it comes to men. So, moving on, what happened at Rousseau's?" Questioned Fe once more, this time emphasizing the restaurant's name.
Sighing, Arsetti dipped a little lower into the water until it came to just below her chin. "Okay, so let me begin by saying that I had no idea who dude even was at first. I mean, I was minding my own business and his drunk ass started following me." She began to explain quickly.
"Setti, what the hell happen?" Queried her cousin impatiently.
"I kind of, maybe, might have had a run in with Klaus Mikaelson." She uttered softly.
Then before Fe could interrupt again, she continued. "I was leaving the bar, when I felt like I was being watched, no hunted. So, I tried to lure them out by—" before she could finish, Fe over talked her.
"You walked your narrow ass into an alley, didn't you?" He accused loudly, as he dipped his hand in the tub and splashed a little water in her face.
At her shameful nod, he sighed. "Well continue. Even though I already know where this is headed." Frowning, she splashed him right back. Smirking victoriously when a few drops clung to his false eyelashes.
"I'm telling you Fe, he set me up," she described further. "It was too perfect. I'm like 92% sure that he compelled some poor guy to mug me and make himself look like a hero by saving me. So, now I owe him one. His drunk ass couldn't even stand up straight, but he was still able to out maneuver me like that."
"The worst part about it was how smug he was about the entire thing. It's like, he knew I knew that he was watching me, and he predicted exactly how I would respond to that. Then, he basically rubbed it in my face and lightweight called me weak," she ranted. "I have to figure out how the hell to get out of this "debt" with him before he can cash it in with whatever he's got brewing in that head of his."
Both cousins went silent, as they searched their minds for a way to out smart the original and get Arsetti out of owing him. Then like lightning on a sandy beach, Fe had an idea.
Clapping his hands together, he beamed. "He too damn smart for us to try some sneak shit. So, for him we have to go old school and be direct. We'll King's gambit that ass, or in this case, Queen's Gambit. He won't expect that one."
Listening attentively, Arsetti leaned forward until her arms draped over the bathtub. "How?"
Smiling, Fe enlightened. "Our best option is going to be catching him in a bind. Instead of just waiting this thing out. That's the first step—the easy part. We'll attack first making him either sacrifice his knight or we'll have to give up a pawn. Either way, it's gonna leave him open no matter how we play it. See, the trick with men like Klaus, is you have to make him believe everything he does is his idea. So, that's what we'll do. It'll make it easier to crush his ass from all sides, should it come to that."
Catching on to what Fe was getting at, Arsetti smiled, "Fe, you're a genius. Not only will that get me out of debt with him, but it will ensure I'm never in another position like that again. And thanks to a conversation with the French Quarter witches, I think I know exactly how to do that."
Pausing, she gave it a little more thought. "Do you really think it'll work though? I mean, this guy is like a thousand years old. I mean, both you and Vincent made him sound like he was part Stalin, part Casanova and part Satan."
"Yeah, but Setti at the end of the day he's still a man. Nobody likes a good chase more than a single man or a wolf, and baby he's both. He'll take the bait, even if he knows it might be a trap because the reward is the one thing that every man like him craves," elucidated Fe, nonchalantly.
Nodding her head, Arsetti realized, "he'll want the power that comes with allying himself with the witches."
Pointing his finger to her, Fe agreed smugly, winking. "Exactly! And every witch, rootworker or conjurer, knows the rules on that one. It won't take him long to find that out and that he probably won't be the only one competing for it."
Stopping, Fe shook his head. His purple and magenta waves swaying around him as he did. Pursing his lips together, he advised, "Setti, there'll be other people out there looking to do the same thing. They'll try and gain power or influence through you. So, it's important that you stay neutral to all the coven factions but neutral ain't never meant fool or a pushover either."
"You are the Queen, baby. No one but God is above you or your word, here in New Orleans. You need to put your bid in with everyone right now. Show a firm but fair hand when dealing with folks. Cousin, people are gonna try you time and time again because they are gonna make the mistake of thinking you a weak bitch. But we know better. MeMaw ain't raise no weak bitches. So, if anybody try you Setti. You make they ass regret it and show everybody watching that you ain't the one—hear me?" Stated Fe firmly.
"I hear you cousin," nodded Arsetti. He had given her a lot to think about.
"You know I got you. So does Aura and even Bianca. So, dead that shit before it start," advised her flamboyant cousin sagely.
As much of a mess as Fe may have seemed, he was also a strategist and chess prodigy. He was a master of unconventional tactics and accounting for all the variables, even the wild ones.
So, if he was telling her all of this then it meant that she needed to heed his words. He'd never once told her anything that wasn't for her own good or something she needed to hear, even if she didn't want to at the time. Now that they knew that Uncle Merrick was up to something, Arsetti could take no chance—show no weakness.
Sighing, drew her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she realized that her cousin had gotten up and was leaving the bathroom.
"Finish up and get you some rest," He tiredly suggested. "Tomorrow you need to go and have a look through MeMaw's grand grimoire and brush up on some of those spells again. After four years I'm sure you have probably forgotten a few of them." And with that, he disappeared out the door and back down the stairs. Leaving Arsetti, once again alone with her thoughts.
After a few more minutes of scrubbing, she exited the bath and got ready for bed. Happy that she no longer smelled like a back-alley brawler, she climbed into her enormous antique bed and pulled her magenta comforter (with gold stitched patterns) over her tired body. Her last thoughts, before sleep claimed her, circled over something her grandmother used to say.
"Sometimes to truly see the light you have to let a little darkness in," she whispered the cryptic words, still to this day unsure of their exact meaning.
Morning light dimly filtered in from the crack in the heavy drapes. De Fleur's library housed some of the oldest books in all New Orleans. The LeRoux's personal collection included many first editions and out of press books that were hard to find. From Kate Chopin to Clive Barker and everything in between could be found within its immense shelves and antique cherry wood bureaus.
A fireplace, that hadn't been used in years, took up an entire wall and cozy chairs, porcelain lamps, aged ottomans, and sofas were scattered about the otherwise sparsely decorated room.
However, what Arsetti sought was tucked away in a dark corner in a secure glass casing.
Unlike most grand grimoire's, her grandmother's wasn't bound in leather. Instead, it's covering was pure silver with pictures of a sacrificial offering along its spine and her family emblem of a skull laying on a bed of magnolias with snakes coming out its mouth and a twisted pencil-thin scythe behind it, along its front. Engraved channels ran along its edges and two spell bound locks sealed it shut from anyone not of LeRoux blood.
Running her hands over the glass, she lifted it and removed the grand grimoire. Slowly, she took a seat on one of the many antique ottomans in the sparsely decorated chamber.
Tracing her fingers along the lifted engraved words, she whispered, "ouvri pa pouvwa a nan blodro la LeRoux." Taking one of the daggers, she always kept strapped to her thigh, she placed its sharp tip to her index finger. Watching as a small bead of blood formed.
She placed the drop of blood right onto the mouth of the skull, observing as it rapidly spread throughout all the channels of the grimoire. The tome began to warm in her hands and she watched in fascination as it shimmered brightly, before the locks the gave way and snapped open.
The spells this book contained had been in Arsetti's family for generations. Even before the book was created to house them all. Back then, they were passed down orally from parent to child and memorized in a time when they weren't called Voodoo Queens but shamans or witch doctors.
It was filled with things they had learned over the years about their powers and spells they had improved on or invented. It contained everything she would ever need to know about herself and her family's power. She had grown up memorizing this book from cover to cover under the watchful eye of her mother and grandmother. There wasn't a spell in there that she didn't know, but after four years this simple refresher would be nice.
Gripping the cover, she opened it up to the first page, and gasped. Written in neat cursive was a letter addressed to her, from her grandmother. With shaking hands, she picked up the letter and opened it up.
In a soft voice, cracked by barely contain emotion, she read aloud:
"Dear Setti,
I know that things seem like they are coming at you fast but don't worry it gets easier as time goes by and you get used to being Queen. I won't bore you with drawn out words or make you feel sadder than what you're already probably feeling.
Instead, I'll tell you of two things you will not find in this grimoire, one of them was something that I had nearly forgotten in my grief.
First, you may have noticed that there were skeletons that appeared on your tattoos when you took your birthright and you might even be thinking that those are our ancestors.
Well, they're not.
They are the souls that all the previous Voodoo Queens, even me, have absorbed throughout the years and you will have to do this to, Setti.
It's how we retain our long lifespans. Each skeleton you see equals 100 souls that have been absorbed by us . Each soul we take, we condemn them to hang in eternal torment. Leaving their soul to suffer a fate worse than death.
So, be careful whose soul you take and the reasons you have decided to do so.
Our powers are connected to our emotions and to nature, which is something you already know.
However, I as I write this, I remembered something. You may not think it to important in light of everything that has just happened and how fast your life has now change. But please remember, no one being, living or ancestored, holds more power than you. Everything in New Orleans must answer to the Voodoo Queen—everything. What is reaped must be sowed and what is sowed must be reaped. You've always been a bright girl and, I'm sure that with Fe, you two can figure out what needs figuring out.
Make your own path and reign the way your heart tells you to, my love. And no matter if it's 50 years, 500 or even 5000 years from now, when you are ready to pass the power over, you will do as I did.
I love you Setti and I'm always with you,
MeMaw."
A lone tear streaked a path down her cheek, as Arsetti finished the letter. She took in all that her grandmother had said and decided that she and Fe would figure out the riddle she had left her with soon—very soon. She had a hunch what she might be referring to but wanted to hold off on anything until she shared her thoughts with her cousin—maybe Aurelien to. If she remembered correctly the book that housed that old myth was probably somewhere in the library, dusty and likely forgotten.
In the meantime, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her tattoos. Feeling as the branches began to expand down her body. Covering her torso, thighs and then all the way down to her toes, they ran. Magnolias, beginning to blossom as they did.
Opening her eyes, she watched in fascination as the skeletons began to appear between the branches, their faces twisted and tortured. This was what it meant to be Voodoo Queen—to be both darkness and light. This was what her grandmother's cryptic words may have meant.
Satisfied, with her discovery she cleared her mind and relaxed. Letting her powers seep back into the well inside her.
Looking down at her sandaled feet, she smiled as she watched the tattoos fade. Lifting the long pleated bohemian skirt, she saw that they were gone from her legs and thighs too. Running her hands over her exposed stomach up to the hem of the black crop-top she wore, then pushing up its long sleeves she saw that the tattoos still ran along her arms and up her neck.
Heavy feet rushing down the corridor interrupted her perusal of herself and she turned to watch who was coming.
Fe came barreling in, yelling. "Setti, baby we got a problem."
"What's wrong?" She asked standing up and closing the grimoire.
"I just got off the phone with Aura and we need to meet Vincent and the other witches at cemetery #2, right now. Apparently, New Orleans got an enormous influx in visiting vampires and get this, they're being led by Marcel. It's bad Setti," came Fe's worried explanation.
"Alright. Let's go," nodded Arsetti, already walking out the library doors and into the hallway.
"Setti, who the hell you think you're bout to fight dressed like Esmeralda?" Giggled Fe, as he pointed to her multi colored bohemian skirt and crop top. "Quasimodo? Now, I'm not saying it ain't cute but you might want to change into something more, Oh, I don't know, stake stabbing and heart ripping friendly. You know, just in case," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders playfully.
Rolling her eyes, Arsetti grumbled, "what I got on is fine. So, let's go."
"Fine. Let's go lil gypsy vampire slayer," joked Fe flippantly. "I hope you got shorts on under that skirt or if a strong wind blow, you're gonna be out here showing all them vamps your Queenly goodies."
Laughing all the way to the car, they sped toward the French quarter.