Before our puny lives all go to hell
Arise, obey the summons of the bell
The caravan will carry her far away
And with her all that fragrance? Who can tell?
- Rumi, These Perfumes
April 1864
Laurentis Manor | New Orleans
Adelia lifted her feet off the ground as the swing rose higher and let her hair caress her face. She laughed at the height of the book lying on the ground and made a stronger push with her feet.
A hand-picked the book and dusted it off and looked at her. Klaus remarked, gently nudging the swing to a halt. "Your grandmother says it is not appropriate for you to swing that high."
"And she couldn't have said so herself?" The pregnant witch narrowed her eyes. "I am not allowed to do anything, go anywhere. Please let me have this."
"At the expense of facing Sharel's wrath? No," the Original smirked. "What is this?" He asked, pointing at the book.
"That's Mr Reynolds' diary," she said with a smile, adding, "He's always wanted something built back at our home." I might be able to do something about it once this child arrives. My mobility is iffy, and I don't want to disturb father or Rafael about it."
"Hmm, do you know who penned these dreary journals?" Klaus asked, "My brother Elijah," he exclaimed, hoping for a glimmer of recognition.
"I hope everything is going well with your brother," Adelia responded with a genuine smile. "Grandmother told me you sent him on a retreat to take his mind off things."
Klaus remarked to himself over Sharel's dark sense of humour as he peered at his brother's object of affection, who was now expecting another man's child. With the Laurentis family in shambles as a result of the revelation, the father was far from a nobody. The father could certainly reach forth to her if the matriarch had to go far as to alter their heir's memories. But then, where was the father and why were the Laurentis still in the crescent city?
"Klaus," the heretic nudged his hand. "Did you listen to anything I said?"
"As much as I adore you, my love... your husband, not so much and hence your words to commemorate him elude me. I wish you luck though, if you ever need help with some violence to soften them up, do write to me."
"You are so atrocious," she said and continued, "No wonder even my child doesn't like you."
"Oh, you do not have to worry, sweetheart. I have no intentions to be in the running for the favourite uncle."
"And you'll never be, not when Rafael is there. You give yourself too much importance."
"Your words almost make me not want to give you these," he pointed to the biscuits in his hand.
She snatched the delicacy from him. "I forgive you," she giggled.
"And your child? Am I forgiven by them?" He narrowed his eyes at her belly.
"No," Adelia whispered conspiratorially. "They cannot be bribed, Niklaus."
"You are leaving already," Adelia pouted at her friend while watching him put his bags inside the car.
"Your internal engines are up and running so I assumed I'd depart as soon as possible," Rafael replied, closing the door to the backseat and continued, "I will look into the documents Lucien gave you."
"I was hoping you'd stay for a while," she murmured, tugging on his coat sleeve.
"Please return home soon," he said as he opened the door to the driver's seat.
"I cannot leave the Mikaelsons, not while Klaus is still here and he refuses to leave this place," the witch told him.
"You will be needed in some days," he informed her with a sigh and added, "I cannot have the board agitated with your absence."
"Take care, I understand," Adelia said, patting his arms as he climbed into the car. She waved as the car drove out of the driveway and out of sight.
Rafael sighed as he remembered their time in New Orleans, the constant back-and-forth between her obligations and her allegiance to the Originals. She claimed it kept her mind off things but did it? Or was she still looking for absolution for the guilt she never bargained for?
His thoughts were interrupted as his car screeched to a halt and he discovered Jenna standing in the middle of the road. With a grimace on his face, he stepped outside to find the newbie vampire approaching him with determination in her gaze.
"I hope there isn't a weapon somewhere, Miss Sommers. I cannot be killed," he remarked flatly, leaning against his car.
Jenna pulled out a pocket knife from her sleeves and walked past him, leaving him perplexed as she stooped down to slice his front tyre.
"Please continue," Rafael urged, rolling his eyes at the display. My Senorita has certainly seen worse."
She proceeded to poke the tyre, utterly ignoring him as the rubber quickly deflated before getting up and kicking the car. "You cannot say such nasty things and think you can leave without consequences," she raged as she approached him.
"Indeed," the vampire exhaled, staring at her. He ignored her this time and headed to the back of the car, where he pulled a spare tyre from the trunk. "As something of a possible consequence, you must pay for a new tyre. I'll have the bill sent to your address."
Jenna recoiled at his dismissiveness. "What?" She said aloud and watched him discard his suit to roll up his sleeves.
No, she didn't find the scenario sexy. Must be the consequence of watching too many rom-coms to overcome her breakup. She implored, "Think of Alaric." A second later, she admonished herself, "No f*ck Alaric."
"Did you really believe you could maim Senorita and get away with it?" Jenna's thoughts were disrupted by his words, and she sincerely wished she had his patience as he added, "Only money and premium oil can heal her wound."
"Why are you so indifferent to everything?" She screamed at him, his demeanour mentally fatiguing her.
"Why should I be concerned about everything?" Rafael replied while rotating the wrench to remove the wheel.
"And yet you come barging into my town with your nose up in the air and say such nasty things," Jenna grumbled, furious.
"I only have concerns for one person in the entire universe and that is Adelia. Outside of her, it's not my problem," he explained, not looking up from his task.
"And you still ridicule me for supporting Elena," she said bitterly, peering down at him.
Rafael paused for a moment to sigh. "What you're doing is offering blind support. Without your own opinions, you, pardon my harsh words, are just a sheep," he said bluntly and she almost shuddered at his chilly demeanour when he continued, "So, nearly a distinction between you and me. Elena expects you to swallow her perception as the only legitimate one, aided by dumb and dumber who coerce everyone into doing it regardless of how it ends or who suffers as a consequence. Her dalliances with Elijah, Adelia, Mikael, and, more recently, Esther are a few examples."
Jenna's mind stopped working at the cold reality. The seconds stretched to minutes as she stood there silently watching him replace the tyre.
What was this guy's deal with speaking the truth that always sent her brain into haywire? Was the truth such a strange phenomenon in her life? Then was she surrounded by liars?
Liars. Was her family one? Elena did not even take her opinion regarding Jeremy. Erasing memories and sending him off somewhere was the only solution her niece found.
"I apologise for my conduct. I should have been more considerate with my words," Desmond said while getting up when he noticed her troubled features. "Stop bringing up the Originals to justify Elena," he said in a gentle tone. "You undoubtedly do have a low opinion of the Mikaelsons, but if you're okay with using them to wipe your niece's slate, you should reevaluate your opinion of her."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, gesturing towards the steering wheel.
"It's alright," he assured her with a genuine smile.
"I'm not mad," Jenna said again.
"You do not have the traits of a madwoman," Rafael chuckled at her defensive tone. "I'd suggest the Salvatores' company if you're eager to qualify as one."
"Give me a few months for the distinction," the newbie vampire told him.
"Go see your nephew," he said after a brief pause, adding, "We're going to lead a long life. It's okay not to feel phenomenal all of the time. Cherish the things that make you happy."
Jenna gazed at him with a melancholic emotion on her face and replied, "You do a brilliant job yourself."
Rafael laughed at the assertion and raised both hands in surrender. "Ah! Please accept my apologies but have you met the Mikaelsons?"
"Will you be returning?" The Sommers woman asked as he cleaned his hands with some wet wipes.
"To this crazy town?" The vampire asked incredulously, "Good lord no. I only came because Lia required my assistance."
"Telepathy?"
"Something like that," he hummed in response. "Do you need a ride home?"
"What?" She seemed taken aback by the abrupt change in subject.
"Do you need a ride?"
"I did show up here by car," Jenna said, pointing to her vehicle at the side of the road.
"I ought to do what you did to my Senorita," Rafael tsked in humour.
She giggled at him and answered, "You are too much of a gentleman to do the same."
"Point," he gave her a wink and entered his car. "Have a good day, Miss Sommers."
"Same to you," Jenna murmured solemnly to herself as she watched him walk away.
"So, let's just say Sage was killing everyone in 1912. Who the hell is doing it now? It's not that psycho, Dr Fell. She's a woman. There's no way she could stab three grown men," Damon theorized, aiming to throw the dart when Rebekah suddenly appeared, catching it in a blink of an eye before it hit the board.
"That's a bit sexist," the Original started, "A woman could easily kill a man, with the right motivation."
"You just, uh, don't give up, do you?" Stefan wondered aloud.
"Why are you so grumpy?" She replied with a frown on her face.
"He's on a master cleanse. Trying to be a better man and all," the elder Salvatore answered for the little one.
"You know, you were a lot more fun in the '20s," she commented.
Damon bumped her elbow and replied, "Don't rile him up. He's testy when he's being self-righteous."
"I'm not being self-righteous, Damon. I'm just not interested in slaughtering innocent human beings anymore," the ripper told the audience.
"Oh, okay, fair enough. My mistake," he humoured while taking out Stefan's journal, preparing to open the sacred possession. "You used to be self-righteous," he hummed, going through it, "Dear diary, Damon has lost his way, though I have pulled my own life together he continues to waste his."
Rebekah grabbed the journal from him, "Ouch," she muttered and continued, "His bitterness consumes him. He is nothing but blackness and vile." She winced on behalf of the older brother and shut the journal. "Oh, judgy, like the doppelganger, I presume."
"Well, this is fun," Stefan said with a tired sigh, escaping his mouth.
"You know, if I'm being honest, you didn't seem like much fun either, Damon," Rebekah commented, returning the journal to Damon.
"I wasn't," he replied, "The woman I was in love with was stuck in a tomb and she wasn't getting out for a hundred years. I wasn't having any fun at all."
Adelia fingered the bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly, deep in thought as she stared off into the space.
"You know it's the only way," Klaus said, coming to sit beside her.
"I understand," the witch sighed, not happy with the bracelet suppressing her magic to stop her mother-in-law from channelling her.
"It is just a matter of a few days. I assure you none of us, least of all me, is happy with this situation."
"Look who's finally awake," Kol smirked and sat across them and continued, "I almost thought mother did a number on you."
"Wonderful observation, Kol. Any new developments?" She inquired.
"I have sent some hybrids to track down my familial backstabbers," Klaus replied. "They have nowhere to hide and all the covens nearby city know you and Kol. She might be looking for a power bank to fuel her magic."
"Could you order your men to prowl for hotspots? Do something rather than lying around and drawing away," Kol persuaded, waving to his half-brother, "but I am immensely thankful of our esteemed excellency who enabled me in reacquainting myself with the witches, even if to save own arse."
"And don't be stupid to repeat the mistake," the hybrid rolled his eyes and continued, "I recently got your casket lacquered to match the décor, and the cushions are still at the dry cleaners."
"How thoughtful of you, Niklaus," Adelia drawled, hooking her hand under her chin to narrow her eyes.
"My one and only half-brother Klaus everyone," the mischievous Original rolled his eyes.
"Where is Rebekah?" The witch asked her companions.
"Seducing some resident idiots for answers," Kol answered.
"I've never been more appreciative of her feminine wiles," Klaus grinned and shared a smile with him, "Our sister, Kol."
Adelia's eye twitched in indignation as she glanced between the fond smiles on both their features.
Adelia was in the same gown as her portrait sitting in a chair with a book in hand. She turned to look at Klaus and smiled.
"Niklaus, my spine yearns for rest. Kindly free me of these confines so I can savour a bit of sunlight," she told Klaus who was currently painting her.
"Love, this portrait is my gift to you. A bit of suffering is to be expected when this will be a masterpiece. People will look at this and wonder who managed to defer to this beauty," an accented voice replied with a chuckle.
"Chef-d'oeuvre of the almighty Klaus, is it?" She spoke with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Don't let your grandmother hear you. She already despises me doing this, irrelevant of the heartfelt gesture."
"Oh lord, I was unaware of the great ancient soul getting scared of Sharel Beauchene," she mocked at his retort and was rewarded by Klaus joining her with her peals of laughter.
"You have to come back soon," Adelia said with a sad smile. "It gets very lonely."
"I have to attempt some diplomacy in my brother's absence," he said. "Without a few gripes, the city would dig its own grave."
"Diplomacy and Niklaus?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "The patrons are bound to suffer."
"On the contrary, Elijah's absence speeds up the charade," the Original smirked, his canines making themselves visible as her laughter echoed the room.
"I found out that the Salvatores are in possession of the milling records," Rebekah informed them as soon as she entered the house.
"Just get rid of those knuckleheads. Two apples, one stone," Kol grinned while munching on an apple.
"Why are you looking for milling records?" Adelia asked curiously.
"There's another white oak tree around here," Klaus said, raising his brow at her lack of insight. We must eliminate it before our enemies obtain it."
"Elijah hasn't been home since morning, and you're claiming there is a possible weapon somewhere," the witch scowled at the information. "Where has your brother disappeared?"
Klaus replied, "You're meant to keep an eye on him."
"He is not a child who needs constant supervision," she responded. "If you've conveniently forgotten, it's Elijah, not you."
"Mother is still out there, and the supposedly responsible one is galloping without any regard," Klaus scoffed as he pulled out his phone.
"He must be doing some work," the witch placated after a thought.
"Do not take his side," he glared at her.
"Would never," she said with a pout.
"Don't lie," Klaus interrupted the witch.
"I am not," Adelia straightened up.
Klaus looked at her, "I marvel how my brother tolerates you."
"Undoubtedly easier than tolerating you," she remarked haughtily, crossing her arms.
"Are you deliberately trying to anger me?"
"I should've gone with Rafael!" She got up immediately, walking towards the staircase.
"Step one foot outside this house and I will dagger your beloved husband!" The Original called after her.
"Find your brother first!" The witch replied while climbing the stairs and continued, "And don't forget to get the cushions from the dry cleaners. I wouldn't want my beloved husband to develop a stiff neck."
"What is stiff is the stick up his arse!"
Adelia came to a halt and returned his stare with daggers. "How uncouth are you?!"
"Miss Laurentis?" A small voice spoke from the doorway as the fighting pair turned to look at the open doorway.
Adelia's eyes widened in surprise, definitely not expecting to see the face. "Luka?" She rushed down the stairs, brushing by the hybrid who rolled his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Greta's brother?" Klaus asked.
The boy in question ignored him and replied to her. "Mr Mikaelson said there was an emergency."
"Elijah? Did he meet you?" The heretic furrowed her brows in confusion.
"He said you need my help so his men escorted me here," he explained, clutching his bag tightly.
Klaus smiled at the information and hummed, "My brother is not that useless after all."
Klaus barged inside his room in anger and immediately grabbed his paramour, narrowing his eyes at her. "Where is my brother?" He shouted at her.
"Which one?" She innocently scoffed at him.
"The one whose coffin you stole from my possession!" The Original backed her into the wall.
"Elijah is where he should be," she replied.
"Elijah was where he should have been!"
"He was daggered anyways. What use could he have been to you?"
The vampire tightened his grip on her neck. "He's my brother, my love. You should evaluate your position in this entire deception. Tell me where he is, or I'll dangle your corpse from the balcony."
"And then maybe your time will run out and your brother will disappear forever," she smirked.
He stared at her as the puzzle pieces began to click into place in regard to her audacity. "Everything has been happening for a long time but the prophecy, it did not yield anything, it unearthed everything," he chuckled at his conclusion and continued, "It put you all in chaos knowing that the people involved were now privy to what has been happening all along. So you took my brother to discourage or even encourage my involvement in this charade."
"Bring Adelia to us and you will get your brother back," she proposed.
"You must listen to yourself. Demand I bring Maeve to you and your rotten coven," he fumed, eyes raging with fire.
"We must have possession of her child. It is one of us," she relayed to him.
"So the father is from your drasted coven?" Regardless of the situation, his eyes twinkled at the nugget of new information.
The witch ignored it and replied, "The magic belongs to us."
Klaus laughed at the entire situation. "How far have you fallen to acknowledge a siphon-witch, an abomination among your kind, as the mother of the prophetic child?"
"It doesn't make a difference who the mother is. The child is fortunate to have such strong lineages from both their mother and father."
"What are your intentions?" His eyes narrowed at her.
"It should not concern you," she smugly said and continued, "We just want the child. The Beauchene witch will have no notion of how to raise a magical one. Her son was no warlock and her granddaughter cannot be considered a witch."
"Your coven expects Sharel to surrender the child whose mother was sentenced to die for her abilities when she was barely a few days old. The Fleureaus died protecting them from the nine covens of this city and you think you deserve a glimpse of their heir," the Original almost cackled at the ridiculousness.
"The child will be raised as if it were one of our own. Not abandon the ancestors, not abandon our sacred magic, as the Beauchene did," the witch raised her voice, angered by the very idea.
"Tell your ancestors that regardless of your intentions, I will find my brother," he firmly stated, making his way to the door thinking of all the possibilities to get his brother back.
The witch grew agitated at his refusal, the only person in Orleans with access to the child's mother. "The Original witch has blessed the child," she suddenly announced, halting him in his tracks.
Klaus slowly turned to stare at her, stunned, the resolve fading away. "Bring me the evidence, or I will decapitate your skull this very instant."
Adelia observed the blood separate into five pools when the candles flared up. As Luka stood up to pack his belongings, the Mikaelsons smiled in relief.
"On the contrary, you have been quite valuable. How about working for me?" Klaus smiled at the youngster.
"So you can kill me like my sister?" Luka said sarcastically.
"Oh, it was my elder brother who killed her. His love of life was in mortal peril at the hands of your sister," the hybrid answered as Adelia rolled her eyes.
"Luka will join us for lunch. Steak, medium rare," she grunted at the Original before leaving the room with the teenager in tow.
"I'm going to begin billing you ungrateful folks for rent! It's my home!" Klaus yelled at them.
Suddenly the table caught fire as Adelia peeked in from the door, Luka's head popping behind her with a smirk.
"I hope this is not the steak. So much for allegedly good service," she tsked with a pout and walked away from the scene.
"Of all the witches on the continent, this had to be the one!" Klaus clenched his teeth as the smoke sensor began to blare as the first spray of water hit his head.
Sharel laughed heartily at one of her friend's remarks. As the laughter drowned out the uneven clinks of the spoon, she stirred the tea with precision.
Angelique Lorraine grasped the Beauchene witch's palms and rubbed them lazily. "You vanished following the City Hall disaster. I wondered if you had left this place," she told her friend.
"The disaster you are referring to is my littlest heir," Sharel cocked an eyebrow, straying from the other's witch's touch, and offered her the teacup. "As unexpected and unwelcome the discretion is, it is my blood."
The seer's smile faded as she considered the possible offence her friend might have taken from her remarks, and nervously fiddled with her teacup before taking a careful sip. "I apologise, the covens have not stopped hounding me for it."
"Of course, I apologise it had to be you of all people," Sharel gave her a sympathetic smile.
"How is your granddaughter? She is such a lovely young lady."
"Bearing the hardships of nurturing a life inside of her," the Beauchene witch chuckled.
The Lorraine witch hummed and took another sip of her tea, looking at the downpour outside.
Sharel stared at her pointedly and asked, "Were you the one who told the coven that the prophecy addressed Adelia?"
Angelique tensed and remained quiet as Sharel continued. "No one was meant to be aware of the child's existence yet. Nobody could have come closer to my granddaughter to link her child to the ancestors. You were the only person who could have executed it. You were the one we let around Adelia."
The rain thundered over them, the porch welcoming the wet breeze.
"They are only trying to help you," the friend confessed softly. "You must have deciphered how powerful the child is. Such power requires its foundation and the ancestors are only aiding you."
Sharel gripped the teaspoon in her palm, a tear slipping down her cheek as she contemplated the betrayal. "My granddaughter is the only one the child needs."
"Your granddaughter has no inkling of what she is nurturing! That the child does not have a human father you have made the mother think!" Angelique yelled. "The child was never meant to have Adelia as their mother. For years, the coven had that Monet witch in relation with the Original. What was her name? Yes, Sofia," the witch exclaimed, leaping from her seat with tremendous glee in her old worn-out eyes. "She was chosen to be the mother, and she even had Elijah's favour."
Sharel could only watch in horror as the events gradually made known the coven's deep-seated desire for control.
"Sofia's mother still weeps over her dead daughter's continual claims about never being good enough for the cause, for the Original, that she was merely in his good graces because she resembled some girl he fancied. And when I first saw your little girl at the Ball, I grasped what the coven girl meant, and why there had been so many whispers in the covens after you moved down here. He had affection for your granddaughter ever since they met in Cloverville. Adelia was whom Elijah desired in Sofia."
"Enough Angelique, kindly stop," Sharel sighed, her knuckles turning white at the emotional despair.
"Adelia was never meant to be the child's mother. Do you suppose the covens prefer not having control over their destinies, especially with a siphon-witch as the mother and yourself as the matriarch?"
"Have you truly lost your mind over greed for power? Is this what you have become?"
Angelique's shoulders slumped in defeat as a tear rolled down her chin. "You will never understand how people look down at you when they consider you weak," she stated. "You were never born weak, you had your power and your name." The seer sat down on her seat and grabbed Sharel's palms desperately to seek assurance. "I have been tormented by my visions my entire life, discarded away because they considered my visions fruitless but then they came to my doorstep, to me, to ask me what those visions were. They came to me, Sharel. Do you want to know how I felt? I felt whole again."
"I considered you family, but you nevertheless chose to do this to me," the Beauchene witch said as she withdrew her hands for the second time.
"You will be rid of the curse soon. You made Adelia forget about the Original, you can do the same for the child as well," the witch replied insistently, justifying her position.
"Do you assume I longed to erase her memories, including those of Elijah?" Sharel scoffed in disbelief. "I needed to protect my family from Klaus, and the only way to achieve this was to put distance between Elijah and Adelia." She explained while battling the guilt of putting her granddaughter through it. "Once she is out of here, my little girl will be safe with her child. Knowing Elijah, he would never abandon his brother to pursue them, and as long as Klaus has his brother with him, he will not retaliate against my family to keep Elijah's favour. He's already daggered, and by the time he wakes up, we'll be long gone and With no memories of the Original, Adelia will never approach him."
Angelique looked at the witch intently with a smile. "Elijah is the only variable over whom you have no influence," she reminded the Beauchene. "You have mapped your granddaughter's new life with assumptions."
"I know the brothers well," Sharel added with a tired sigh. "I will never want her to have a lifetime of misery with the Originals. Elijah was unwilling to speak for their love, and Adelia's love for him will never suffice the storm Klaus is."
"The ancestors will take care of the Originals if you agree to cooperate with them," she suggested.
"As long as I am alive, nobody will touch my heir," the Beauchene witch fumed at the very notion and continued, "The child might be linked to the ancestors but I have never been afraid of them."
"I wish I had your courage, Sharel," the Lorraine witch murmured admirably as her fingers hesitated to hold the other witch's hand and she withdrew it herself. "Give me your word that you will not bury me here," she requested suddenly with an unseen vulnerability. "I do not like the ancestors."
"Do you still get visions?" Sharel wondered aloud, taking the tea cup from the other witch gently, "about my granddaughter?"
"You must make it out of this alive," the seer answered, noticing her nails turning blue in her lap. "He who remembers shall bring her peace."
The Beauchene witch looked her in the eye. "You will not have my apologies."
Angelique looked at her dear friend for the last time and smiled, "I know."
"I hope you have plans to take possession of the white oak," Adelia muttered to Klaus standing by her as she watched the car move out the driveway, Luka waving from the backseat. The witch returned his smile and waved her hand as well.
"I believe my brother is one step ahead of me. After all, he sent the warlock," the Original replied, entering the house and closing the door after them.
"To erase the threat of your imminent fate. It's one for one now," she said, taking a seat next to Rebekah on the couch.
"If they have any oak, I can persuade Stefan to give it to me," the sister answered.
"You'd have a better chance wooing the tree in the Salvatore estate," Kol snorted opposite them.
"Rebekah, do be inconspicuous," Adelia interrupted the blonde's retort.
"I am always on guard," she said as the siblings turned to look at her.
"Your back must hurt from all the daggers," the youngest brother said with a smile.
Rebekah glared at him. "Better than being confined to a coffin. How's the ventilation, brother?"
"Enough," Klaus echoed. "We do not need the Salvatores on our tail with the white oak. We will deal with it in secrecy." He turned to his sister. "Rebekah, you will cease all contact with the town residents."
"I will not. You cannot imprison me," the sister shouted at her brother, getting up as Adelia started pinching her forehead at the cue.
"I shall keep an eye on her," Kol volunteered, raising his hand.
"You?" Rebekah said with a grimace and continued, "The one who's ready to chomp down on any walking body?"
"I wouldn't want to jeopardise my freedom and life simply because you find it difficult to contain your mortal impulses," Kol barked out a laugh.
"I will try reaching Elijah," Klaus sighed as his eyes met Adelia's.
Rafael stepped out of the car and looked around as he faced the entrance of the Cloverville estate. The man leaned against the car, scrolling through his phone when his eyes caught a pair of starlings around the boundary. He watched as they attempted to break through the illusory barrier.
"Well, this is surely creative," he mused to himself, smiling as he saw the magical forms.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you are without a doubt the most aggravating being to ever wander the Earth?" Finn spoke from the passenger seat.
"This aggravating being is shielding your arse from your bloodthirsty family," Rafael smirked. "Betraying the brothers, deserting the mother, lamenting over your mortality, how miserable are you?"
"How do you know I won't betray you?" The Original pondered. "After all, you hold the answer to what Mother seeks."
"Because I know your quest for answers from your family outweighs your desire to end your existence," Desmond responded, peering through the window at him. "You are no longer linked. If you choose to do so, you will be dying in vain."
"Our mother loves us," Finn answered with a sigh.
"I do not doubt a mother's love for her children. She made you all into these creatures, after all, to protect you," he replied, not refuting the statement.
The Original spoke after a few minutes of silence. "Adelia is a good woman. We will ruin her as we do everything else."
"You're already in the vicinity of her ruins, my friend," Rafael replied, motioning to the swarm of starlings lingering over the Cloverville mansion.
Finn got out of the car, observing the sight. "She is here," he mumbled.
"And we are here to steal her membership for this sanctuary," the younger man grinned, "and you will be handsomely rewarded if you acquire that for your little siblings."
"I don't have time to squander now that she's on her way. Do what you must," Finn advised him, agitated at the prospect of confronting his mother.
"If I am the key to unlocking what your mother aspires, he is one of the chains securing the vault," Rafael said, his gaze drifting to Elijah coming out from the shadows, a starling perched on his shoulder. "You will deliver him to Klaus."
A/N: Long time no see T.T