𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 - the siphon

━━━━━━━

𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 had sent the three of them into a bout of silence. The sound of Davina's charcoal scratching away at her canvas accompanied the sound of the violin strings that Elijah tweaked, determined to fix the instrument. Ophelia had picked up the book she had taken her eyes away from and trailed her eyes over the words, relishing in the comfortable silence. It was strange; the all-powerful harvest girl, an original vampire, and the abominable siphon all sat in silence doing small and menial tasks.

Elijah would allow his eyes to stray from his task every now and then to study the two in his company; the young witch would stick out her tongue in concentration and it would remind him of just how young she really was; she was just a child. And he couldn't keep his attention away from Ophelia. She had yet to spill much about herself, she was almost completely silent and the sound of pages turning and her small breaths were the only indication that she was still in the room.

He would catch the woman's eyes rolling at the words she read and the way she would glance over at Davina to make sure the young girl was alright. Their own eyes connected once or twice, each time she rose a brow at the original; having caught him studying her.

Elijah cleared his throat, his eyes diverting back to the instrument in his hands, "So, enlighten me. What did you mean when you said Davina had to die?"

Ophelia dog-eared the page she had gotten to, slowly closing the book as she shifted to sit up cross-legged, her muddied dress pooling in her lap as she caught Davina's look. The young girl seemed nervous to share the story and upon seeing the siphons nod of encouragement, Davina took a breath.

"That's what the Harvest was. They said they'd put us four girls in a state of, like, peaceful limbo as part of the offering. And then later, at the Reaping, we'd awaken and be reborn." The last living harvest girl scoffed lightly to herself, "I never got as far as the limbo part, which means the Harvest isn't complete. That's why the witches are so freaked out. The Reaping is just around the corner, and if they don't finish it before then, it's over. All I have to do is wait it out."

"And then what?"

"They're punished, and I'm free." Davina smiled as she placed her charcoal down. She dusted off her hands and began to gather her clothes, passing them to Ophelia to fold before putting them into a suitcase that laid at the foot of the bed.

Elijah furrowed his brows, his fingers pausing their work on the violin. "From Marcel?"

"Of magic. All our power will drain away. I'll be normal."

Ophelia felt for the young girl; she was only sixteen and had been torn away from everything that made her feel 'normal', school, her friends... even her family, as vile as they were. Ophelia herself adored magic and she struggled to not use it. It was a part of her, something she had finally embraced after deciding that hating herself wouldn't stop her family from hating her too.

She loved to feel powerful. In control. She couldn't control her parents; the way they treated her and Kai. Hell, she couldn't control Kai either. He was a wily spirit that would never have been tamed. The damage done was just too deep.

Elijah frowned slightly; yes, she was just a child, but witches took pride in their power, they cherished their magical abilities. "Is that what you want? To be normal?

"I just don't wanna be what I am. I can't control it sometimes. Magic. I..." The little witch et out a deep breath as she carefully lowered herself to sit beside Ophelia, discarding the packing she had been doing. "...hurt people. Even when I don't mean to."

Davina's voice broke as she finished her sentence. She was a sweet girl who had been tormented and hurt, and yet she still felt the need to help people and keep them safe from harm. It absolutely broke her when she hurt people when her powers got out of control; especially when Ophelia wasn't there to take the magic away.

"Why don't you tell me about your friends? You must miss them." Elijah spoke, his voice as smooth as silk as he tried to move the subject away from harming others. He had caught the small shake of the head that Ophelia had directed to him, telling him to stop. And he obliged; he knew the woman cared for the child; it was clear in her eyes; it was the only thing he could read from her.

Ophelia hummed teasingly, a small grin on her face as she nudged Davina, "Why don't you tell him about little Timothy?"

Davina giggled, her cheeks turning rosy at the thought of her teenage crush, even despite what had happened inside the church, with Klaus. Those thoughts were pushed away entirely as she focused on the butterflies in her stomach, "Tim doesn't know about any of this witch stuff. He's normal. My best friend, Monique. She was a part of the Harvest too. She's lucky. No one ever fought for me, but someone fought for her. The only one who ever spoke out against the Harvest was Monique's aunt."

"And who is that?"

Davina sighed as she thought back to the woman who screamed for her niece, the woman who was now after her and wanted her dead, just for the chance that the Harvest girls might come back, "Sophie Deveraux."

Ophelia stared onwards, her eyes narrowing into slits as Elijah's lips parted in shock.

"No one but Sophie ever questioned the Harvest. Not even my own mother. So, neither did I. We thought it was such an honor, we had such faith. We were so stupid."

"So, how did it begin?"

Davina sighed lightly, her eyes falling to stare at a chip in the wood floor. Her dainty hand subconsciously wrapped itself around Ophelia's, and for once, the siphon didn't mind. "We were led out like princesses. My mother was so proud. Bastiana, one of the elders, called upon the four elements to bind our past and future magic together. Earth, to connect us to our ancestors. Water, to heal the community. Wind, to carry us to our ancestors and back. Fire, to purify. After all our preparation, we knew exactly what to expect. For weeks, they told us that the magic in the knife they used to cut our palms would put us to sleep, and that later at the Reaping, we would all be resurrected. They said we'd awaken, and all be together and more powerful than ever. And it was just like we rehearsed it. All that was left was a little cut on our palms for the blood sacrifice."

Ophelia kept her eyes on the hand intertwined with her own as she felt herself go back in time. Eight months ago. She knew everything about what had happened, Davina had told her what had happened before the siphon had appeared.

The story continued and Elijah listened intently as the young girl told him how Sophie had tried to interrupt the Harvest, only to be held back with a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams of warning.

"Even after Sophie tried to stop it, we didn't suspect anything," Davina muttered as she swallowed harshly; she could only wish that she could go back and change her mind. Her best friend and those other two girls would have still been living and breathing.

Davina continued on, retelling the moment they knew they were doomed, the moment fear had flooded her body entirely, the moment one of the girls was led to the altar and held her hand out, ready for the blood sacrifice. The blade never sliced the girl's palm; Ophelia had seen that moment in her vision, the blade slit the poor girl's throat instead, leaving her to choke on her own blood before falling to the cold ground.

Davina told the original how she and the other two girls screamed and begged to be saved, but they were restrained. Davina choked out how when she had turned her desperate and teary eyes to her mother, the woman ignored her.

Anger brewed inside of Ophelia as she listened, once again, to Davina's story. The way her mother had treated her as if she were nothing more than an object to be traded for power. Ophelia had no doubt that her own mother, as well as Davina's, were sitting in hell.

Elijah took a moment to process the words, appalled at how the young witches had been treated, how their families turned blind eyes to their torture. His words came out as a statement, he knew that the other witches knew what was to happen. "Everyone involved in the ritual knew that this would happen."

"Except the four of us. They weren't putting us to sleep, they were slaughtering us!" Davina's voice rose, ignoring the tears that spilled over her cheeks.

Davina continued on, explaining how the elder, Bastianna slashed another of the girl's throats, leaving just Monique and Davina. Davina had screamed until her throat was in pain, trashed until her limbs ached as her best friend was pushed towards Bastianna, towards her death.

"I begged for someone to help. My own mother turned away from me. Sophie screamed and screamed for her sister, anyone, to do something." The little witch cried as she leaned her head on Ophelia's shoulder and the siphon leaned her own against Davina's. "But no one did."

Elijah traced his dark eyes over the young witch before his gaze landed on Ophelia who met his eyes, "And yet, you survived. Therefore, someone or something intervened."

Davina's face lightened just a fraction, a small but shaky smile dusting her lips as more tears spilled from her sea-green eyes. She lifted her head from the siphon's shoulder and met the gaze of the original, "Yes. Someone finally did." Davina cleared her throat, "The vampires came, led by Marcel. They killed every witch they could... but Bastianna still got to Monique and she- she killed her... I screamed and begged for help as I tried to break free and then Marcel came, he killed the witch that had ahold of me."

The witch's eyes cleared, her tears drying more with every word and with a grin she moved her sight from Elijah and to Ophelia, "Then out of nowhere, this girl had ahold of a witch, her hands were glowing and the witch fell to the ground screaming and the girl used magic to break the witch's neck... because Marcel and I were watching in shock, neither of us noticed the witch behind us. They were chanting and suddenly Marcel screamed and fell to the ground. And this girl, she looked terrifying as she stormed forward... she said something and threw her hand out. The witch that was killing Marcel flew through the air and- and landed on a pike."

Davina laughed for the first time since they had been talking about the harvest. "The girl looked at us so smugly and just said 'You're welcome'..." Her grin faded into a thankful smile as her eyes sparkled, "Ophelia saved us both."

Elijah gaped just slightly as the older woman smiled warmly and the witch. It seemed strange to see such an expression on her face, usually that sarcastic smile or her stoic expression would stay. He had to admit, it was a sight to see. The cogs in his brain whirred and spun as he took in the Harvest girl's words; Ophelia had saved Davina and Marcel. Her hands had glowed red and she had used magic...

"You're a siphon." He stated in slight awe.

Ophelia nodded at him, confirming his deduction. Once again, the expression of surprise caught her off guard. Sure, siphons were rare but he was over a thousand years old, she had assumed he would have met at least one. Obviously not. "I saw the two of them, saw how Davina fought for her life and she reminded me of someone... so I saved her, and Marcel. He had put everything aside to try and save the girls, to me, that was admirable. And that's why I know everything, why I can see Davina whenever I want. I can't be compelled and I'm trusted... and I'd never hurt her."

"She helps me," Davina whispered. "She can take some of the magic away... when mine gets out of control, she holds me and- and she helps me, when she's around, I can't hurt anyone." The young witch cleared her throat, "Every girl who died released her power on to the next. When I was the last one, I suddenly had all of it-- all the power that was supposed to be released back into the earth to appease our ancestors."

"So... the Harvest was actually working?" Elijah questioned the pair, though his eyes were still stuck on the siphon.

"Something was working. And I knew that I was supposed to be killed so the Harvest could be completed and we would all be resurrected. But, they lied to us about how they were killing us. How do I know they weren't lying to us about coming back?" Davina paused as she fiddled with her fingers, "But mostly, I just didn't want to die. So, I let him save me... and then we let Ophelia save us."

There was a small pang of guilt that swirled inside of Ophelia; Davina believed through and through that Ophelia was good. But she couldn't be more wrong. The siphon would have saved Davina no matter what, both she and Marcel would never harm a child, but as for Marcel; the only reason Ophelia had saved him was because she knew he was a leader and she knew she would need friends in high places if she were to live in a witches city, if she was going to make up for the nineteen years in the prison world.

Davina curled into Ophelia, her arms wrapping around the woman's waist, causing her to flinch just slightly before relaxing, knowing it was just the young girl in need of comfort. She stroked Davina's long and curly locks and calmed the young witch.

Elijah stared at the two, his deep eyes caught the flinch and though he wouldn't mention it, he had to wonder why a siphon would flinch at the touch of the young girl she saved, could it have been a natural reaction she had to anyone? Aside from that, he was filled with sympathy for the Harvest girl, disgusted from the way she and the other three girls had been treated.

━━━━━━━

23-08-2020

𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨; 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬!