"You can clean your sword as much as you like want but the blood still stains it" - Matsuro
New Orleans, 2015
The dark was the first thing she saw, the dark was all she remembered. On a forgotten field on the outskirts of New Orleans, two eyes opened, the bright blue orbs taking in the darkness of the night. The wind blew fearlessly, the tell-tale of an incoming storm, set to soak the field in the rain it produced. Nuria's skin created goosebumps at the feel of the wind against her delicate pale skin. Her hand went to them instantly, running over them as if she couldn't believe they were there. It had been a long time since she had been cold. Nuria stood up, her legs shaking as she realized how weak she was. An old nightgown that clung to her, blew in the window, rising upward to show her skin to the empty field. Nuria pushed it down self-consciously, an old habit impossible to break. Around lay patterns of salt, a sure sign that witches had been here, but now they were gone. Not even one staying behind to greet poor Nuria and explain her rather confusing situation to her. Where she once lay the grass was flattened, a hint of sorts as to how long she had been there. Beside her outline, lay another, bigger than hers, giving her a guess at the gender. Nuria looked across, bringing her arms together to attempt to warm herself. Her eyes caught lights in the distance, the promise of civilisation, warmth and food. She smiled taking a tentative step, for the first time in centuries Nuria was alive.
Nuria began obsessed with touching things throughout her walk, fence posts, grass, anything she came across. Every time her hand made solid contact she smiled again and then she would laugh. A smile laugh that cracked through the frozen air, breaking the silence of nature. Lights flashed ahead of her, a sign on the side of the road declaring a promise of food for the weary travellers entering the city. It reminded Nuria of an inn of sorts back in her day, preying on the fact it was the first place the travellers would see, but it would never really be the best. Nuria placed a hand on the sign, barely noticing the dark tattoo that stained her hand. Her eyes were staring ahead, a silent alarm bell going off in her head that something wasn't quite right. It was the silence, after spending hundreds of years on the other side Nuria was used to silence, but this wasn't the other side. There should be noises, laughter, humans being humans, but all that met Nuria's mind was emptiness. Stepping forward reluctantly, she closed her eyes as I feeling hit her full force, making her stop in her tracks as she resisted the urge to scream. It was the feeling that came with being alive, the feeling of death. It seeped underneath her skin, making her squirm in pain, breathing heavily she willed the feeling away. She could not be weak. Opening her eyes again, she walked forward, preparing for the sight that would soon greet her.
Bodies were strewn across the road, some having lost limbs to their attackers, blood was splattered everywhere like a beware sign to anyone daring to step into the massacre. The humans who may have once lived their lives were left like road kill, just like hunted animals. Nuria knew better, the humans weren't the animals, their attacker was. All it took was a look at the various victims necks, a gaping wound leave by two fangs, a vampire, one that was starving. Her companion in their resurrection Nuria could only guess. She frowned in disgust as she walked forward, wondering what kind of vampire didn't clean up his mess. A cough caught her ears, this cringe worthy sign of life, that Nuria wished she hadn't heard. She tracked down the sound of life, to a middle-aged man eyes opening staring over at her, as if she could somehow help him. She tip-toed towards him kneeling down to look into his eyes, he was barely alive the blood was still flooding from his wound, it would only be a few minutes. Nuria took her eyes of his brown ones focusing now on his clothes, reaching into his pockets, she pulled out a wallet and a device she recognized as a mobile phone. She quickly discarded the phone, opening it to find one of those odd locking systems, instead she focused on the wallet, rifling through it as she took out the bills and coins she could find. Looking back into the man's eyes she opened her mouth to say she was sorry, but she wasn't. It didn't seem fair to lie to someone when they were dying. Nuria turned away from him, quickly getting to work on the other corpse, she needed money. It was a new world, and she had learnt from the other side that it was not a kind one. She'd have to make her own way. Marching over to the inn's building she forced open the door, finding more bodies lining the inside. Once again she ignored the carnage, going straight to the nearest table that held an unfinished plate of food. Picking it up, she studied the odd food, shutting her eyes as she placed a chip into her mouth. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. After she was finished she placed the plate back down, looking at the girl who had been indulging in it, she focused her attention on the girl's black hair, held back by an odd piece of material. Ignoring the dry blood that stained her hair, Nuria pulled it out, using it in the same one to push back her messy white hair from her face. Heading inwards, Nuria climbed the wooden stairs, searching the rooms for some form of clothes to replace the tattered nightgown she had once died in. Smiling in success when she opened a drawer, she picked out whatever looked less revealing and quickly got changed. Nuria headed back outside the inn, making a beeline for the structure that held the mode of transport for the modern wall. Grabbing an odd smelling can that she recognized as something called gasoline, she began spreading it over the carnage. Once that was completed Nuria made her way to the edge, producing a lighter that she had taken from an older woman outside the inn, who had most probably been stepping out for a smoke, an odd new custom that Nuria didn't understand. Flicking her finger against she saw a flame burst forth and she smiled at the familiar light before dropping it on the ground and watching it spread. In less than a minute the inn was alight and the bodies burned to their own particular funeral that Nuria had given them. Taking once last look at the place Nuria turned her attention focused on the city in front of her.
Klaus had long since won kingship of New Orleans and he found in the oddest way that he missed the familiar warfare that littered his streets. He surveyed his kingdom almost lazily, thinking back to the time when he had left Mystic Falls and found his adoptive son on his throne. He didn't deny it had been a hard road to win it back and all sides had lost things. Klaus for his part had lost his daughter, the baby barely surviving a month before the witches took her from him. Not that they did not suffer for it, Klaus could if he concentrated enough still here their screams. "Niklaus," his older brother's voice broke the silence, "we may have a problem." Klaus turned to him a grin on his face as he finished his glass of bourbon, the promise of a distraction coming in his brother's words.
"So Elijah what poor unfortunate soul has messed up this time?" he questions, walking off the balcony to his family home. Elijah followed him with a worried look on his face, his brother's boredom was never a good sign. He had seen Klaus commit a massacre on much less.
"There was a fire just outside the city, forty-four people were killed, we believe it was vampires," Elijah informed his brother, handing him the report he had obtained from the police. A benefit of their alliance with the human faction. Klaus looked over it quickly, hardly paying attention to the details.
"Find me the vampire so I can lay out the rules of my city," he tells his brother, handing back the report as he pours another glass of bourbon. Elijah nodded making a note to inform Marcel to track down the vampire, before addressing his brother again.
"I'm worried about the witches," he admits tentatively almost afraid to bring them up knowing the memories that came with their mention. Not just for Klaus but Elijah too.
Klaus rolled his eyes, "You mean Davina?" he asks, knowing she was the only witch of importance left alive.
"No, Davina has told Marcel that there have being witches arriving in the quarter over the last couple of weeks," Elijah tells him.
Klaus shakes his head, "Yes, yes," he says, gesturing his hand, "Marcel already came running to tell me that," he explains to him, the fact not seeming to bother him, he knew that he was capable of taking whatever came at him. He was King.
"Did Marcel happen to mention the message of doom they are bringing with them?" Elijah asks him, his voice giving just the hint of annoyance at his brother's dismissal of almost everything.
Klaus turned to face him a smirk on the immortal hybrid's face, "Really Elijah if few bedtimes stories got you worried I would have spread a few just for the entertainment," he comments, finding amusement at his brother's concern.
Elijah resisted the urge to frown not wanting to allow any more opportunities for remarks from his brother's mouth, "One should never overlook a warning from the witches so lightly," Elijah reminds him. The words stung Klaus not that he'd ever admit it, it was a direct reference to his daughter's death, Klaus held back a growl keeping the arrogant smile on his face.
"Of course not but if one believed every promise of evil the witches foretold, we'd still be living in caves," Klaus says, dismissing the witches words, knowing Elijah would go on to investigate them anyway.
Elijah nodded realizing now was the time to leave it alone, "Very well," he tells his brother, turning to face the exit of the family home.
"Oh and Elijah, tell Hayley if the werewolves get out of control again I'm going to have to start killing them," Klaus calls, making sure his brother knew that Klaus was well aware of exactly where Elijah was running off too.
"Give it a break Nik, you threaten to kill members of every faction on a daily basis," Rebekah declares descending the stairs to join her brother, a smile painted across her features.
Klaus threw her a glare for her comment, "Well I guess I better start killing them so they know I mean it," he tells her, as she stands across from him, her black dress blowing in the wind.
She blinks, her made-up face giving a clue on who she was going to meet, "Well you do that Nik, but I have plans so I won't be able to help you today," she retorts, laughing as she marches out the door, Elijah had just left. Klaus watched his siblings disappear with a slight frown on his face, it was times like these that a certain blonde flashed through his mind for a second before he pushed her away. Love was weakness, his siblings were proof enough of that. Rebekah was caught in a love triangle and she didn't even realize it, Marcel unable to decide between her and Camille, the young human girl that had a fire Klaus respected. That respect had been the only thing stopping Klaus from telling Rebekah the truth, Cami's throat would have been ripped out within seconds if he had. Elijah on the other hand was busy with the little wolf and even though everything seemed perfect now, Klaus knew Hayley well enough to know her people would always come first. There was a reason the werewolves looked up to her.
"Are you really mourning over the little blonde baby vampire? I'm no shrink but I don't think that's healthy Nik," the voice came from behind him, a voice Klaus believed he'd never hear again. He wondered if he had imagined it, for it couldn't be real. He turned slowly and his eyes caught the familiar brown ones, that had been in and out of his life for a thousand years.
"Kol," he manages to spit out.
Kol grins at his brother's reaction, "You do remember me, that's a shock I'd thought we'd have to our traditional fight to jog your memory," he tells his brother, a reminder of all the time Klaus had daggered him.
"How are you alive?" Klaus questions him, his voice low as he considers if this was a trick.
Kol shrugs his eyes a mixture of amusement and interest as he takes the seat in front of Klaus putting his feet on the table, "To be honest its all a bit of a blur," he admits, intending to anger his brother who never liked being denied answers.
"Kol," Klaus warns, to use to his brother's games to tolerate one now.
Kol sighs taking the bottle of bourbon and chugging back the contents, "You'd think after having let me die you'd at least give me some fun," Kol says, an underlying accusation against Klaus.
"I came to stop them," Klaus reminds him, not one to be blamed for his death, the last thing he need in his kingdom was a vengeful Kol.
"Yes and to dagger me, I do love your version of blameless Nik," Kol tells him a smile still on his lips, but his eyes were dark. Kol may have come back from the dead but there was no love lost between the two of them. Klaus was beginning to forget the small amount of happiness he had seen upon his brother's return.
"I warned you," Klaus growls, remembering the events that led up to Kol's death.
Kol rolls his eyes, "Of course, but don't worry about me hating you, I think you have bigger problems to deal with, with someone you actually did kill," Kol tells him, his eyes bright with knowledge his brother didn't have.
"What are you talking about?" Klaus asks Kol, a hint of worry at Kol's wide grin. If Kol was happy about it, Klaus could bet it would bring him harm.
"Well lets just say I'm not the only person your new flock of doom and gloom witches resurrected," Kol says to him, standing up as he begins to study his old family home. Klaus watches him warily taking in the information he had offered. The new witches had brought him back, yet he couldn't understand the why, he knew Kol had a particularly good relationship of witches but that kind of magic took sacrifice. Kol turned back to him a disappointed expression on his face, "Come on Nik, you're taking all the fun out of it, ask me who else they resurrected. No, no don't worry I won't make you lower yourself so much I'll tell you, white hair, blue eyes, tattoo of a phoenix on her hand," Kol hints at him, his smile growing at his brother's reaction to the news.
"Nuria," Klaus breathes, he had never accepted to use that name again. He quickly catches his composure turning to face Kol, "Well I'm beginning to understand why they're brought you back," he comments to his younger brother, making his way out.
"Where are you going?" Kol calls disappointed at his brother's retreat.
"To talk to my flock of doom and gloom witches to find out what in the hell is going on," Klaus snaps at his brother, already missing the lack of worries he had merely a moment ago.
"Yes you better don't mind me I'm just going to reacquaint myself with this town," Kol tells him, a sign to Klaus that there were going to be bodies to cover up, but he didn't have to time to care about the fact his brother was poised to go on a rampage. He had to find answers and if necessary kill Nuria all over again.