Doppelgängers, shadow self, those are what you call someone who happens to be identical in appearance to another. They're a naturally recurring phenomenon created to balance the immortality that was 'bestowed' upon the two immortals, Silas and Amara. They tend to reappear every five hundred years.
The female of the two immortal's line of Doppelgängers seemed to love disrupting the balance of the supernatural, intentionally or otherwise.
The future Patrova doppelgängers, have an uncanny ability to be a central part of the supernatural world. The first doppelgänger of the immortal Amara was no exception, they are an anomaly among anomalies.
The laugh let out by the maker of the other side as the essence of the shadow self became known was titillating. The fact that Amara's doppelgänger can't even form right makes her feel vindictive satisfaction.
Born 1500 years before the present doppelgänger, in a small hut plotted in the middle of a forest of what would eventually become Bulgaria. The little babe was a carbon copy of Amara, from the dark eyes, to her plump lips that stretched into a grin of their own.
The only difference was that the babe was a boy.
With the mother still weak from recent childbirth that left the father to make up for the task she hasn't been able to do. He's happy to help, especially given that she gave him a boy, he couldn't think of having his would-be little girl suffer through the cruelty that is the world, especially for women.
Currently he is sitting by the makeshift fireplace tending to it to keep the shack warm. Given that it's winter he's nervous about if the baby's gonna make it. The cold isn't forgiving, and a newborn is vulnerable.
He's not the richest but he's made an honest life for his time, with a sizable amount of acres to his name. He's made a living by selling his produce he's able to grow. The modest sellings saves his family from the hassle with wayward lords.
The cry of his newborn shakes him out of his musings.
—
The mother of the child sits on the bottom step of their small cottage her husband finished constructing as the leaves started to fall last autumn on their boy's fourth nameday.
The child, now five, was currently listening to her husband as he instructed the boy how to skin the deer they've managed to catch. Leaning over the boy, he's guiding their child, who's arms are currently covered in blood, from the gutting of the deer.
She was hesitant to allow it but relented after her husband's argument of him needing to know the essentials to survive, though she can admit watching her two precious loved ones bond warmed her heart. Even if it was over an animal carcass.
"Papa?" Their child's inquiry causes her to focus back on them.
Seeing her husband standing his body tense as he looks towards the woods. She's about to voice her concerns, when a figure steps out of foliage. They wore a cloak over themselves.
She feels her body tense as other figures emerge behind the smaller one in front. These people are different as they didn't wear a cloak but they had protective leather strapped to their vitals. The woman lets out a whimper as she realizes she's seeing Vikings. As the smaller figure clears the foliage only two of the others continue with her as the rest stand back.
When they reach halfway to her husband and child, her body reacts before she can think. She's holding her child in a protective embrace while her husband holds the knife her child was previously using to clean their future meal.
"Peace" the feminine voice inside the hood speaks. Meeting them a few paces away, she stalls. the two following behind.
Her husband doesn't say anything, just raises his armed hand in a defensive manner. She takes a breath before demanding 'why they're here?'
She knows that they're not native to here, the stories of the powerful sea warriors have spread far and wide with their tenacity to explore. Not to mention their lust for battle.
The figure seems to contemplate on their answer, before reaching up to pull their hood off. Revealing a mocha skinned woman with intricate braiding weaved with stones and feathers. Her delicate features contrast with the pale rough men around her. This only confuses her.
"Boyka Petrov, and Donka , I've been searching everywhere for you, or more specifically your child. You may call me Cilo." Her Grecian accent caresses their ears.
"My child?" she asked in fear and confusion, while her husband tensed in rage at the words. She grabs a hold of the back of his shirt hoping he doesn't try anything rash.
The woman knows her name. Her step mother always spoke of tales about how her family is unique and to be cautious of those who take an interest in her new name.
"Your child, yes"
The woman turns her gaze to her child who is peering at the woman in curiosity. "He's very special to my kind and others like me."
Her amber-like eye's focus on her son unnerved her. Her mothers words don't help. Sadly, her mother was always vague when she tried to pry into her insanity.
The woman, Cilo crouches eye level to her child not carrying that her husband is tense above her. Though, seeing the two behind her and those still in the foliage she can understand her lax in fear.
"Little Natanail Petrov you're-"
"How do you know my sons name, let alone ours?'' The husband interprets shoving the knife in front of her, holding it towards her throat. His patience ran out. His wife gives a startled shout from his sudden movement, while the two behind tense up but at the raise of the woman's hand they stand by.
"I mean no harm. You have no reason to fear me" she speaks with a velvety force.
A glaze comes over her husband's eyes and he relaxes. Her nerves are intensified, how did that happen she knows her husband, he's not one to be calm when tempered.
Turning her attention back to the mother and child she holds a jeweled hand up, opening her palms towards the sky a pale rock with multicolored sheen lays upon it. The mother in her fear clutches the child further into her embrace, but the boy seems to be drawn to it. Struggling out of her hold, the boy's curiosity overrides his caution.
"What's that?" He wonders, oblivious to the tense atmosphere.
Cilo let's a small grin grace her face."This here, is what most call a moonstone. It's said to ensnare the magic gifted by the moon. Would you like to hold it?"
"Now wai-" the mothers protest dies off as her child reaches for the stone with no fear.
The second he grabs the stone a red glow engulfed her little boy's hand. Her son's elated exclamation echoes throughout the field.
The satisfied look on Cilos face makes a shiver run down her spine. Stepping towards her son with the fear of the unknown she doesn't know what she's intending to do. She's just scared her son is in danger.
"I wouldn't come closer. For your safety" Cilo tells her, and it seems like her body just jolts to a stop. Her heart pounds as pressure shrouds her.
"You aren't in danger, he's not in danger. You have nothing to fear" the words resonate within her.
She feels relaxed. Why should she be scared? It's just Some strangers. it's not that uncommon for people to know their name, given the provider that they are to the little town a few leagues away.
She doesn't even register that both her and her husband aren't moving.
"Your child has the fascinating ability to be able to manipulate the very foundations of magic by absorbing the essence of said magic. that then can be used to your child's desire." The woman explains to the mother unbothered by the fact that she doesn't understand a single thing that has been stated.
Seeing that the mother and father are dealt with she turns her focus back to the little creature gazing at the stone as the lady of its magic recedes into the child.
"Little one." She intones, causing the boy to snap his gaze from the pretty stone to the pretty lady of night. Having never seen a black person in his seclusion. Papa never let him leave the farm and said something about strangers being scary. But how can someone so pretty be scary?
His future self will eat those words.
"What was that?" He ask
"That. Is magic. I'm quite surprised I'll be honest. You're most definitely not what anyone was expecting little one"
The grin that takes up his face as his little head hears that is reminiscent of every future Petrova when they're excited.
"magic?" he breathes out in elation, his single tracked mind not even registering his parents' quietness.
"Yes, magic. You are very special, and have so much potential I'm tempted to snatch it. But alas I have been told the spirits that can't simply be done. So in lieu of that I've decided that you'll become my apprentice." The big words confuse the little lad, but the word apprentice, he's heard his papa say something about taking on one since Natanail was too young to be of proper help. His papa has been really busy and he's gotten popular with buyers as a successful farmer, his momma said.
"Really, I want to see that red light again it was so mermererizing" he states butchering the word Mesmerizing. It's something he's heard his papa call his mama, saying something about fancy people using it.
Turning towards his parents' innocence he doesn't notice his parents' weirdness. Bouncing towards his mother he grabs her hand jostling it as he jumps up and down he doesn't notice the red glow as he absorbs the magic used on his mother. His mother blinks as she registers her son jumping up and down and that the haze in her head fades.
"Look, look" her boy says as she gets a glimpse of the stone as he waves it in her face.
Seeing the same stone that glowed in her son's hand moments ago makes all the faded fear rise up. She quickly snatches it out of her son's hand before throwing it at the woman.
"Don't touch him again" she states, terrified. Her son's face crumbles, but she doesn't notice as she's sneering at the woman.
Just as their eyes connect her face goes blank. Stepping back from her son, dodging the hand of her son, she looks down at her child, then to her husband who's still frozen in a daze.
"Mamma?" Her son's timid voice filtering through her ears.
She stumbles back as her son tries to touch her, she doesn't know why just the thought of him touching her frightens her.
"Don't touch me!"
The watery fear in her son's eye is the last thing she sees before her mind goes blank.
The slink of a knife flaying flesh brings her out of her thoughts.
Turning towards her husband she sees him cleaning the deer he caught for them, she's planning on telling him she's with child, she's so nervous it's her first child.
Standing from where she was sitting she turns towards the entrance of the door to their cabin, never to remember her first born.
—-
Natanail gasps as wakes up abruptly. Looking around the makeshift tent he's temporarily in he distantly hears shuffling outside. He doesn't know he's awoken.
He went to sleep nervous, Lady Cilo sent him to his quarters saying it's a grand day for him tomorrow. He's been studying under his Lady for the last 12 years, he's finally old enough, for what he doesn't know.
A static-like charge flows throughout the tent, causing the back of the boy's neck to tingle as a strange sensation comes over him. Feeling like he's falling and floating at the same time the boy gives a startled breath. He tries to reach for the magic in the air but gasps as he feels pain shoot up his body stomping him.
His vision wavers, he tries to reach out for leverage but his arms feel like lead, his whole body is engulfed as the feeling of icy water devouring his lithe frame.
Stifling a cry, his frantic eyes darted around the room searching in vain for a relief of some kind. The icey feeling starts to increase, causing him to shiver as his body temperature lowers. His lips become pale and bruised, as his blood recedes to his major organs.
The feeling of pins and needles stabbing his limbs causes a pitiful groan to escape the suffering boy. The feeling spreads to his head and all he can do is stare, and let the strange phenomenon consume him, never seeing the amber-like eyes staring at the opening.
When the last breath of conscious leaves she nods, the two men accompanying her pick up the limp boy.
Before carrying him into a tomb. going deeper to reveal an entrance showing a small catacomb, stepping past, that the two men watch as the woman lets her hand which she's previously cut bleed on a rune carved onto the wall causing it to groan as it shifts before jutting out. The one who isn't holding the boy opens the slab door.
As the woman walks into the room the torches light up revealing a stone table etchings of various runes lining the edge. Instructing the two to position the boy on the slab, after settling him on it they step back and watch silently as their Lady talks to the unconscious boy.
"I'm sorry Little one" Caressing the pale olive forehead of the boy she's grown fond of.
"This is the only way to instill balance, you're so unique my child, a Siphoner, with the essence of a Doppelgänger, you're the only one who can do this. I'm sorry I've taken your choice, and I hope you'll understand."
Being a siphoner the boy can draw magic passively, the fact that he's a doppelgänger, even one that isn't genetically correct, which doesn't make logical sense, it's why she's sure the boy is the Key to the balance of everything. As long as the boy is able to be a conduit of magic to become a filter if you will, the world would be over-flowed with chaos as magic fights, the wolves of men that have been created have already disturbed the balance further.
the immortals that created this boy in front of her should be grateful, because without him the very existence of balance will be destroyed.
The chamber she's created for the boy is to protect the boy, she's given him a wonderful life, full of adventure and magic, before she sends him to an eternal rest for the better of the world.
She doesn't regret taking him from his family, nor does she regret the fact that she's sacrificed such a bright soul for the better of such duller ones.
The tear running down her face as she closes the tomb never to be unsealed until a desperate Salvatore forces two Bennett witches to break the magic surrounding the tombs, the same tomb a certain doppelgänger was put to rest in.
——
A/N:
I'll be honest I kinda didn't want to write a whole ass arc to the plot of the story so I copped out a little, plz don't be mad. I know the oc sounds like they're gonna be powerful but I feel being powerful and having a bunch of power is different. So technically there was a doppelgänger in the tombs just not a certain baddie we all love