"We have a serious problem!" Rebekah announced, her voice echoing with urgency as she stormed into the Salvatore's grand living room. Her eyes darted around the opulent space—plush velvet drapes, antique furnishings gleaming under the chandelier's soft light—before realizing with a start that none of her brothers were actually there. Frustration creased her brow as she demanded, "Where the bloody hell is everyone?"
"Interrogating the three witches they did manage to capture tonight," Stefan replied calmly from his seat by the fireplace, where the gentle crackle of firewood punctuated his words. He looked up from his book, his expression etched with concern. "What's the problem?"
Before Rebekah could answer, Maya entered the room, a determined look on her face.
"Aunty Bex, I'm glad you're back. I need your blood."
"What? Why?"
"I have everyone else's. Once I have yours, we can break the linking spell."
"We?"
"Bonnie and Luka are going to help me. Uncle Kol wrote down the instructions, we just need your blood." Maya held out an empty metallic bowl towards her, an expectant look on her face.
With a swift, decisive motion, Rebekah tore open her wrist with her teeth, the stark red of her blood stark against her pale skin as it dripped into the bowl.
"Thanks," Maya muttered, turning on her heel and disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.
Rebekah, now left in the living room with Stefan, Caroline, and Tyler, saw their attention fixate back on her.
"You said there was a problem," Stefan probed, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Yes. When I was questioning Elena, she told me there was another white oak tree, after my siblings and I burnt the original one to the ground. John Gilbert is looking for it. We need to find it first," Rebekah disclosed, her gaze hardened with the gravity of the revelation.
"It probably got cut down," Stefan mused, rising to his feet, and striding towards the bookshelves that lined the walls, filled with dusty tomes and ancient ledgers. "Half this town was built from the big old trees in the 1900's."
"Well, who kept the milling ledgers? We need to find it!" Rebekah's impatience was palpable as she followed him.
"We did," Stefan replied, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books before he began pulling them off the shelves. "Salvatores owned all the logging mills back then."
"Great!" Rebekah exclaimed, her supernatural speed a blur as she grabbed half the books Stefan held, then returned to the plush chairs, distributing some to Caroline and Tyler. "Get looking, we need to find out what happened to that tree."
"I'll help, but first, what did you do to Elena?" Caroline's question was soft but loaded with implication.
"I compelled her to forget everything she's ever learned about the supernatural unless I allow her to remember, then I returned her home. We may need her again," Rebekah replied, her voice cold, leaving them in no doubt that she hadn't acted out of mercy.
The den was softly lit, with warm light casting gentle shadows around a room filled with personal touches. Shelves along the walls held a mix of family photos, cherished novels, and keepsakes that told the story of a home loved and lived in. A faint, comforting scent lingered in the air. As Maya entered, the glow from five candles placed on the central table spread a soothing, warm light, giving the room a cozy, and inviting feel. Her voice, clear and resonant, filled the space, softened by the plush furnishings and thick, draped curtains.
"I've got Aunty Bex's blood," she announced, holding up the bowl with the last of the blood they needed for their spell.
Luka and Bonnie paused their inspection of Uncle Kol's carefully written instructions and turned toward her. The candlelight reflected in their eyes, making them appear almost otherworldly.
"Good," Bonnie responded with a reassuring smile, her voice soft but confident. "We're ready too."
Maya placed the bowl in the centre of the candlelit circle on the coffee table, which bore the marks and scratches of heavy use. She then sank onto the plush, worn carpet, finding her place at an angle between Bonnie and Luka, thus completing their own circle around the magical setup.
"We need to add all the blood to the bowl and say the first part of the spell, then we pour the blood out in the centre of the candles and say the second part of the spell," Bonnie instructed, her tone imbued with the gravity of their task.
Maya nodded solemnly and poured the contents of the four vials into the bowl, the blood swirling and mingling with Aunty Bex's, creating a dark, shimmering mixture.
"Ready," she affirmed, her voice a mix of anxiety and determination.
In unison, they began to chant in a rhythmic cadence, their voices intertwining and filling the room with a palpable energy:
"Blod å binde,
Blod for å koble fra,
Blodet til den ene,
Blodet av de fem,
Blod, bein, sinn, sjel,"
As Maya carefully tipped the bowl, allowing the combined blood to flow into the centre of the candles, the intensity in the room heightened. The candles flared wildly, as if feeding off the energy of the spell.
They continued, their voices now louder and more forceful:
"Etter min vilje,
Sjeler koblet fra,
Fem som en,
En går tilbake til fem,
Koble fra disse sjelene,
La det bli slik."
The chanting echoed, building a resonant force that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards. As they reached the climax of the spell, the pool of blood in the centre stirred, then divided into five distinct streams, each flowing towards a different candle. This division, a tangible sign that their spell was working.
Their voices combined in a final, harmonious plea as the room filled with a brilliant, blinding light. When it subsided, the candles had burned down significantly, and the air felt charged, heavy with the ancient and powerful magic they had just invoked.
"Why do you think she did it?" Maya's voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone laced with a mix of confusion and accusation.
Bonnie exhaled deeply; her brow furrowed in frustration.
"I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "I never thought she'd be capable of something like this."
"Not Elena. Esther."
The venom in Maya's voice as she spat out both names, made it hard to tell which of the two she despised more. It was clear, to Bonnie at least, that the younger girl, held them both equally to blame. But where she had never much liked Elena, Esther, for all they had only met a few days ago was her grandmother, and these blood ties meant the betrayal stung with an acute sharpness.
Bonnie could see the turmoil swirling in Maya's eyes—the pain of grappling with the fact that Esther, her own grandmother, had plotted such darkness against her family. It was incomprehensible to Bonnie how Esther could consider extinguishing the lives of her own children, how she could make the choice to steal Maya's father, aunt, and uncles from her in a single, cruel stroke. She knew their loss would have devastated Maya, and was glad they'd been able to stop it, even if Esther had escaped.
"I don't know." She repeated, shaking her head again, "Come on, let's go and join the others."
It was fortunate that Aradia had consented to leave the three captured witches in their custody after they'd been thoroughly interrogated with veritaserum. His skin practically buzzed with pent-up rage, a physical manifestation of his fury that he was desperate to channel. With their mother having slipped through their fingers, and Elijah expressly forbidding him from pursuing the doppelganger due to having his own plan for her, these three witches were the only outlet left. These witches would have to suffice for his wrath, a surrogate for the vengeance he was denied elsewhere.
The room was tense as Jonas glanced down at his phone, the light from the screen casting sharp shadows across his concerned features.
"Luka says the binding spell is broken," he announced, the weight of the news evident in his voice.
Damon's face tightened, a ripple of anxiety passing over him as he leaned forward slightly.
"Is he certain?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
Jonas nodded confidently, his eyes locking with Damon's.
"He said the result was exactly as Kol said it should be."
Kol, who had been lingering quietly in the background, suddenly perked up with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"One way to be certain," he chirped cheerfully, his tone light but his intentions serious.
Before Klaus could react, Kol swiftly grabbed a knife from the table and with a fluid motion, plunged it into his side. He let out a hiss, a sound more of anger than pain, and clenched his jaw tightly.
"What was that for?" he growled, glaring at his brother.
Kol's eyes twinkled with a dangerous sort of glee as he stepped back, avoiding Klaus's reach.
"I didn't feel anything, did you, Finn? Elijah?" he called out playfully.
"Nothing," Finn responded, his voice flat, his expression unreadable.
"Not even a twinge," Elijah added, equally unperturbed, watching the scene unfold with a critical eye.
Kol's grin widened as he danced just out of Klaus's retaliatory grasp, pulling the dagger from his side and waving it in the air like a conductor's baton.
"See, the spell worked, we're no longer linked as one," he declared triumphantly, his voice filled with relief and a hint of revelry. The tension in the room momentarily lifted as the brothers processed the success of their separation, each absorbing the freedom it implied.
Klaus's relief at being unbound from his siblings was tinged with restlessness. Despite their newfound independence, a deep-seated urge to unleash his fury remained. His eyes flicked towards the heavy, iron-bound door that led to the lower levels of the house. Elijah insisted on calling it the basement—a mild term for what had essentially become their private dungeon, complete with cells designed for moments exactly like this.
Klaus found it amusing, almost ironic, how his pragmatic brother shied away from naming the grim reality of their accommodations. Below them, the dungeon held the key to his catharsis—his mother's co-conspirators. They were the perfect targets for his pent-up aggression, a proxy for the vengeance he couldn't exact on her directly.
Yet, he was held back, a prisoner to timing and protocol. Aradia was still down there, extracting truths with the most potent of serums. Klaus's impatience simmered as he considered why the interrogation was dragging on. With such powerful veritaserum at play, the truth should have been quick and forthcoming. He clenched his fists, the desire to descend into the depths and confront the traitors himself growing stronger by the second. But he had to wait, forced to bide his time while the potion did its work, leaving him pacing and plotting in the shadowy corridors of his mind.
He glanced at the time, it had been over an hour since they had returned, surely, she was done by now. Even as he was considering going down and demanding to know what was taking so long, the door swung open, and Aradia emerged with Himiko and Florence, Maya's necromancy teacher, on her heels. Both had assisted with stopping Esther and capturing the three witches below, and both of them had remained to help with the interrogation.
"I'm aware that you're all itching to deliver punishment to those three, but before you do, we need to talk."
Her sleep was once again a gateway to whispers from the unseen, a chorus of voices struggling to convey a message she could neither grasp nor hear clearly. Yet, this dream carved a new path through the familiar fog.
She found herself wandering through an ancient forest, the gnarled trees like sentinels in the mist. Ahead, a figure—a woman—moved with an eerie purpose. She tried to call out, her voice catching in her throat, emerging as nothing more than a breath against the chill air.
The woman led her deeper into the woods, their silence punctuated only by the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. They reached a clearing where an imposing mansion loomed, its windows dark, its facade a tapestry of ivy and shadow. But her eyes were drawn away from the house, back to the woman.
In a blink, the scene shifted violently. The woman was no longer walking; she was bound to a pole in the centre of the clearing, a pyre of wood stacked ominously at her feet. Flames sprang to life with a sudden ferocity, encircling her in a fiery cage. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, a haunting image of agony without sound.
A whisper cut through the crackling of the fire, clear and chilling:
"Find me!"
The command echoed, growing in urgency.
"Find us!"
Her gaze snapped around as the mansion vanished like smoke. The clearing now held multiple figures, each bound and aflame, their silent screams tearing through the eerie calm.
"FIND US!" The voices thundered, a desperate plea that reverberated through her very soul.
Maya awoke with a start, the echo of their cries still pulsating in her mind, her heart racing with the burden of their unspoken horrors.
"You okay, Cosmo?" Caroline leaned forward in her chair and fixed her with a concerned gaze.
She rubbed her eyes as she sat up, still in the living room where she must have fallen asleep, Aunty Bex, Uncle Stefan, Aunt Maggie, Uncle Enzo, Caroline, Tyler, Bonnie, and Luka, all still there. All still going through the books Uncle Stefan had pulled from the shelves. All still looking for the White Oak Tree that Elena had been told by John, who'd been informed by Esther, had survived the purge Aunty Bex and the others had been on when they were nothing more than a newly created species.
Well, they had been, currently they were all regarding her with varying levels of concern.
"Yeah. I had another dream." Maya confessed, her voice a soft intrusion into the hushed tones of the room.
"The same one?" Tyler asked, leaning forward with interest veiling his features.
"No, different this time. There was a woman, and a house, and they were all…" Maya's voice tapered off as the vivid images replayed in her mind. The woman bound to the pole, the silent screams, the urgent whispers calling out to her.
Uncle Kol had said they were looking for a place nearby where lots of witches had died extremely violent deaths. Somewhere like that left a memory, an imprint in the veil, which was easy for the dead to reach across, like a field where a hundred witches had been burnt at the stake.
"Maya?" Aunty Bex stepped forward, reaching out a gentle hand like she was ready to draw Maya from her thoughts.
"I need to get my sketch pad."
She didn't give them the opportunity to reply, jumping off the sofa and racing out of the room to fetch her sketchpad and some pencils. She got the feeling the dream was a clue, a way to find the place where they could speak to the witches. She needed to draw as much of it as she could remember before those memories faded.
"I'm done," Maya declared, stepping back into the living room, sketchpad in hand, having drawn the woman from her dream, and what she could remember of the mansion she'd seen.
At the exact same moment, Caroline's voice sliced through the tension with a triumphant edge,
"I've found it!"
Aunty Bex, nodded towards Caroline.
"Caroline first," she directed firmly.
"Wickery Bridge," Caroline announced with a spark in her eyes. "In 1912, they used boards from a white oak tree to construct it."
Stefan chuckled lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement as he glanced at Rebekah.
"Right, so we just need to burn down an entire bridge and you'll all be fine."
Rebekah's response was nonchalant, a sly grin tugging at her lips.
"I've done worse." Her casual demeanour belied the gravity of their plan.
"They're rebuilding it soon anyway," Maya added quickly, turning to Tyler. "Your mum invited us to the fundraising party last week."
"Well, I'll be sure to get Nik and Elijah to make a large donation, after I've destroyed the current one," Rebekah announced with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Now, let's see your picture."
With a mixture of anticipation and nerves, Maya rotated her sketchpad towards the group. The instant the drawing came into view, Bonnie let out a sharp intake of breath, her eyes widening. Beside her, Stefan's expression morphed into one of startled recognition.
"Do you know where it is?" Maya asked, her voice thick with curiosity and urgency.
Both Stefan and Bonnie shook their heads slowly, their surprise still evident. Stefan leaned closer, his voice low and tinged with disbelief.
"That's Emily Bennett."
Bonnie's voice was a whisper, reverent and shocked.
"My great-great-great-great-grandmother."
Aradia stood at the head of the long, dark oak table, her expression grave as she captured the room's attention. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across her face, adding an ominous tone to her announcement.
"Esther is not acting of her own accord."
The reaction was immediate and fiery. The Mikaelson siblings—anger flaring in their eyes—leapt to their feet, their voices rising in a cacophony of protest. Damon and Jonas, on the other hand, wore expressions of confusion, their brows knitted as they struggled to grasp the implications.
Aradia, however, had no patience for the chaos. With a brisk wave of her hand, a sharp clap echoed through the room, silencing the outbursts. The sudden quiet was palpable, the only sound the soft crackle of the fireplace.
"The other witch who escaped with her," she continued, her voice low and compelling, "is called Lillith; she is a very old and very powerful practitioner of True Necromancy." The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with foreboding. "The necromancy she practices is the forbidden kind. I believe the only forbidden magic she has never undertaken is the creation of a Horcrux, and likely only because doing so would have diminished her power."
"That, and she's already immortal," Florence interjected, leaning back in her chair.
Aradia's frown deepened at the interruption, but she nodded slightly, acknowledging the truth in Florence's words.
"I questioned Gloria closely," Aradia continued, her eyes scanning the group, ensuring she had their undivided attention. "She was approached in the summer by John Gilbert, who came to her looking for a way to kill an Original. Gloria introduced him to Lillith, whom she has apparently had dealings with, in the past."
Finn, restless and uneasy, waved a hand to capture her attention. Aradia lifted the silencing spell she had cast on him.
"What did this Gloria get out of killing us?" he demanded, his voice a mix of curiosity and underlying rage.
"Power," Aradia said bluntly. "Lillith would have been able to harness an extreme amount of energy from your souls had she succeeded in killing you tonight. She was willing to share some of that power with Gloria."
"You said mother wasn't acting of her own accord?" Finn pressed his gaze intense.
"Yes." Aradia paused; the weight of her next words clear in her steady gaze. "Gloria took John to Lillith, and she agreed to perform a ritual to summon Esther's soul and spirit, binding it to the truthful answer of seven questions."
"That ritual requires a full moon." Florence added, "I do not think it's a coincidence, that the day after the ritual, the spirits all began attempting to reach Maya, Bonnie, and Sheila."
"No, it's not." Aradia agreed, "Lillith was able to learn from Esther, that the only way to kill an Original was with a White Oak Stake. That the tree was burned down after you were turned. That another sprouted in its place –"
Finn's reaction was visceral, a sharp hiss escaping him, though he remained seated, fists clenched in silent fury.
"– The tree was cut down in the last century. The wood from that tree was used for something but she didn't know what. That she could temporarily undo her own curse, at which point you would be killable."
"Which is why they resurrected her?"
"Yes, Lillith used the last question to discover where Esther's body was located. Gloria and John retrieved it, and Gloria left an illusioned coffin its place so nobody would know it was missing. While they were gone, Lillith performed a second ritual to trap Esther's spirit until she could be resurrected."
The silence that followed was deafening. Elijah, Klaus, and Kol, previously silenced by magic, were visibly agitated, hands gesturing for her to release the spell. Aradia lifted her hand, and the room erupted into a cacophony of voices.
"Why are you so certain that mother wasn't a party to all this?" Klaus's voice cut through the noise, demanding and desperate.
"Gloria told me so when I questioned her," Aradia responded, her gaze fixed on the brothers. "Before the other two witches unlocked Esther's coffin and resurrected her, Lillith used the sacrifice of an innocent to bind Esther body, spirit, and soul to her will."
"Sacrifice of an innocent?" Damon's question was laced with horror.
"A child. An innocent and pure soul is required," Aradia's voice broke, disgust painting her features, "whatever you do, to those three downstairs, make sure they suffer."
"What about Lillith, John, and mother?" Elijah queried.
"I suggest you ask John's family if they know where he is or might be. As for Lillith, she's not done, she didn't get what she wanted, and she won't stop until she does. Stopping her won't be easy."
She paused, a grimace crossing her features, as if the next words pained her to even speak. "We have an idea, but you're not going to like it."
"Absolutely not!" Damon was on his feet in an instant, the realization dawning on him before the others. The implications of Aradia's plan sparked a fire in his eyes—a protective fury that echoed around the room as the others pieced it together.
Their collective outcry was a storm of resistance. Elijah's face was a canvas of worry, the lines around his eyes deepening. Klaus's expression darkened with unbridled rage; his jaw clenched so tightly it might crack. Kol's usual playful demeanour had vanished, replaced by a rare and unsettling seriousness. Even Finn, typically the epitome of stoic calm, was visibly shaken, his anger simmering beneath the surface like a tempest threatening to erupt.
"Listen," Aradia's voice cut through the mounting chaos, her tone sharp as the edge of a blade. "LISTEN!" Her command boomed, echoing off the ancient walls, silencing the room with its authority.
As a hush fell, she continued, her voice steadier but laden with grave sincerity.
"I am not suggesting that Maya face Lillith alone. None of us are."
"Then what are you suggesting?" Elijah's voice was tense, his stance protective.
Aradia locked eyes with each of them in turn, her gaze piercing.
"Maya, as a True Necromancer born of two bloodlines and related by blood to Esther, has a uniquely potent connection. She stands the best chance of breaking Esther free from Lillith's control."
Klaus, unable to contain his impatience, interjected sharply,
"Why not just kill this Lillith and free mother that way?"
Florence stepped forward, her presence commanding the room.
"Because Lillith hasn't just bound Esther to her will," she explained, her voice a calm contrast to the storm of emotions around her. "She's drawing power from her. If we can sever that connection abruptly enough, break the bonds, it will weaken Lillith enough for the rest of us to capture her. Lillith is immortal; the only way to kill her is through a ritual that binds her soul beyond the veil, and we can only perform that ritual if we capture her first."
Kol, his curiosity piqued despite the tension, asked,
"How old is she?"
Aradia's face darkened with the weight of centuries.
"I don't know for certain. I first encountered her about seven hundred years ago. Lillith isn't the only name she's gone by, though it's one she favours. Back then, she was using the name Itzpapalotl, setting herself up as a Cihuatlamacazqui, an Aztec priestess, in the worship of Chicomecoatl. They used to sacrifice young girls to the goddess, and Lillith, as the priestess, would consume their souls. I managed to force her out of Tenochtitlán, but I was unable to free the souls she'd already consumed. I've been hunting her ever since."
The revelation hung heavy in the air, a chilling silence following her words.
"And this is the woman you want to use my daughter to defeat!?"