-•-•-

Remi sighed as she flopped down on the floor. "I don't think I can do it," she said, a bead of sweat dripping down her forehead. Hours had passed since the three Mikaelsons announced their plan to help Remi, and the girl was struggling, as expected.

The older witch kneeled down in front of her. "You can, you just have to focus. Come on," Freya said, standing back up and gesturing towards the table full of spells.

Remi trailed behind her and took one last look at the control spell she had been continuously attempting to recite. She picked up the knotted rope and breathed slowly as she closed her eyes, forcing her energy to follow the words escaping her mouth. "Explicare funem, ego non quod ego nescio dicere." The girl waited a moment, but nothing happened. Sensing Remi's frustration, Freya put a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Maybe we should take a break. You've been going at this for a few hours; you look exhausted," Freya observed, watching as Remi shook her head. As sweet as the girl was, she could be quite stubborn when she put her mind to something.

"Just one more time, please?" Remi asked with a rare twinge of hope in her voice with the older witch couldn't possibly crush. Freya debated it for a moment, and hesitantly nodded.

The girl moved to the table again, picking up the thick tweed rope and holding it steadily in her hands. She let the spell fall from her tongue like molasses. "Explicare funem," she began, and an indescribable tingle shot down her veins. "Ego non quod ego nescio dicere." Remi opened her eyes, afraid to see if she had failed once more, but to her surprise, a completely straight rope laid dangling in her hands.

Remi smiled widely. "It worked," she squealed, turning around to face Freya. 

The woman smiled back and chuckled. "You did it."

For a moment, Remi forgot about all of her worries in the world; but that was quickly replaced, as out of nowhere, a faint whispering infiltrated the girl's ears. It was something she hadn't heard since the day she fainted at Rousseau's. "Do you hear something?" Remi asked, darting her head around the room as she squinted her eyes.

Freya's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "No. You do?" she asked, watching was the younger girl placed her hands on her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

Remi desperately tried to focus on where the strange noise was coming from. Minutes passed and she was still listening to the entrancing sound playing in her ears, as if it were on repeat. It was different than the voices she had heard during her migraines. These didn't send the familiar chill down her spine, one thick with animosity. These made her feel warm and slowed her nervous heart. 

Though she heard voices, she couldn't translate what they were saying. It definitely wasn't in English, but for some strange reason she knew what they said. She saw images flash through her mind, those that made her blood run cold.

"Quickly, Iliana, we don't have much time before the Mikaelsons wake up," an older witch persisted as she handed her friend a syringe, watching as it filled up with a thick, red liquid. A content grin appeared across her lips before they exited the apartment, stepping over a young girl's corpse with her neck in an unnatural position.

"Goodbye, Remi Moore. Thank you for your contribution to the witch community. It has been a joyous experience."

Her eyes shot open and she jumped back. Freya walked over to the girl and looked into her hazel eyes. "What the hell was that?"

"The voices . . . Klaus and Marcel are in trouble. We need to go, now!" Remi hurriedly replied, gripping Freya's hand as she ran into the courtyard, catching the eyes of Rebekah and Elijah.

"What's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost," the blonde original spoke as she couldn't help but hear little Remi's erratic heartbeat sounding like it would nearly burst from her chest any moment. 

"Klaus and Marcel a-are in the cemetery. W-we need to help them," Remi pleaded, stumbling over her words.

"What are you talking about, Remi?" Elijah asked. He knew that his brother and Marcel could very easily overpower a few ragtag witches, but Remi's insistence struck him as odd.

Remi sighed frustratingly. "W-when the witches killed me, they took some of my blood so that they would be able to channel me and the magic my mom put into me. Klaus and Marcel are there, but from what I know, psycho witches with the power of a whole other coven can't be good. I can help, I swear! I think I'm finally getting the hang of this whole magic-y thing."

The Mikaelson siblings shared a nervous look. They had many more questions, but there was no time for that. If there was something terrible brewing at the cemetery, they had to get there. Rebekah took Remi's hand whilst Elijah grabbed Freya's, each speeding off towards Lafayette Cemetery; home of the French Quarter Coven. 

-•-•-

They halted at the cemetery gate with a confused look on their faces. Rebekah tried speeding through again, but to no avail. It was sacred ground, which means that vampires can only enter with an invitation.

"Damn it," the blonde muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Freya, we have to help them," Remi said, looking up at the older witch. If vampires couldn't enter, then the two would have to do it themselves.

Freya sighed. It had only been a few hours since the girl's first magic lesson, and Remi had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into. "I know," she sighed.

"I think they've lost their minds," Elijah breathed, watching anxiously with Rebekah as the two witches flicked the gate doors open.

They strutted quietly past hundreds of graves, each older than the last. The cemetery was set up like a maze; one wrong turn and you'd find yourself walking in a circle. 

Suddenly Remi stopped dead in her tracks; a man lay dead in front of her, his heart ripped clean out. She carefully stepped over the deceased vampire and continued walking with Freya by her side. Dozens of other dead vampires could be seen scattered among the graves, their hearts missing as well. The girl figured it was the witches' doing, since she had seen a similar spell in the grimoire she was flipping through earlier. There was dozens upon dozens of spells that cited various ways to torment vampires and werewolves alike, all ending with the same fate: death.

They followed the trail of dead bodies until it reached a rather large mausoleum, muffled voices emanating from the stone walls. Remi looked at Freya for a moment before cautiously peaking her head in. Several voices could be heard, but it was hard to distinguish between them. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst. 'Even if I do end up being killed, at least there'll be no one left to miss me,' she thought to herself.

The witchy pair nodded at each other, took a deep breath, then walked into the den, though they were not prepared in the slightest for what was going on. 

There stood three witches, chanting something hellishly ancient to hold Klaus and Marcel against a wall, whom struggled furiously against their grasp, fangs baring in anger. With Remi's blood, the French Quarter witches were too strong, even for them, the most notorious vampires of New Orleans. 

All eyes were on Remi as she yelled "stop!"

The witches' eyes bulged, momentarily stopping their chanting. Klaus and Marcel fell from their magical chokehold and sped up to the witches, but before they could sink their teeth into their petty little necks, the three witches had them both back against the wall, unable to move. 

One witch in particular ceased her chanting and turned to face Remi and Freya, a devious smirk on her face which struck anger in Remi's heart. The girl recognized this witch. It was the one that snapped her neck.

"Well, if it isn't little Remi Moore and her protection squad. I thought we had eliminated you for good, but I see your evil mother had one last trick up her sleeve," she said, taking a step closer to her.

Remi backed up, her breath hitching as Freya stood defensively by her side. "Don't talk about my mom, you bitch." 

"I sense about two other Mikaelsons attempting to enter our grounds. It's a shame they won't be able to witness your demise for a second time. How unfortunate," the New Orleans witch said. Klaus and Marcel watched on, letting out animalistic growls, but they still were struggling against the witches' grasp.

"I wont let you hurt my friends anymore," she mumbled, discreetly grabbing onto Freya's hand, the older witch immediately catching her message. They were channeling each other.

The witch laughed maniacally. "You are weak, Remi Moore! When will you learn your place?"

Freya gave the girl's hand a tight squeeze. They both shut their eyes, feeling their chests tighten with energy. "Intruduntur, quod cantandum," they began, voices just barely above an audible whisper. From the wall, Marcel and Klaus watched the pair intently, veins twitching in their necks. For a split moment, the witches seemed unfazed, narrowing their eyes in hatred. 

"Perdiderit animam." The witches began to dart their eyes between each other, debating what they should do. If they fought back, they could no longer keep Klaus and Marcel at bay, but if they did nothing, they would surely die. They mumbled to each other, the two younger witches begging their elder to do something.

"Conversus collum tuum," Freya and Remi forcefully continued as the desperate New Orleans witch began to inflict a migraine on them. Remi let out a wince, though knew not to stop chanting. With horrifically throbbing heads, the pair gripped each other's hands tighter. "Fallat et disrumpam!" they yelled, each flicking a wrist as a sickening crack echoed throughout the mausoleum. Klaus and Marcel dropped from the wall with a loud thud, rushing over to the two.

"Remi, how the hell did you do that?" Marcel asked, placing a hand on the girl's back to steady her.

"Freya taught me," she panted, a small smile creeping onto her face as she looked up at the older witch. Just as she spoke, Elijah and Rebekah rushed in to where their cluster of heartbeats was, mouths agape as their eyes scanned the scene before them.

"Nice job, little witch," Klaus said, glancing over at the girl who was leaning against the wall. "You too, sister," he continued, sending Freya a grateful nod. 

"Thanks, Klaus," Remi replied, moving to get up from the wall, though her knees buckled before she could even take one step forward. Elijah quickly sped over to her, catching her frame before it could hit the dirt floor. 

As they exited the body-ridden mausoleum, each of them found themselves checking the girl's heartbeat at some point, though they would surely deny it if asked. One can never be too safe.

"She was right about Nik and Marcel," Rebekah observed, impressed with the young girl she had become quite fond of.

Freya nodded. "I just hope she can have some closure now that the witches are dead."

"Unfortunately, I don't think closure is possible in her situation, sister," Elijah replied, and Klaus found himself thinking back to the moment he first her of her name. It was his fault that the witches had gotten involved with her in the first place. Because of him, the life of a girl was forever changed; the girl that just saved him without a second thought. Despite the fact the he was grateful towards the young witch, he couldn't befriend her. Didn't she know that anyone who gets close to the Mikaelsons ends up dead one way or another?

-•-•-

first of all, I just want to say thanks for 1.1k views! you guys are fucking amazing! I'm sorry for having a weird update schedule, but I have a 4 day weekend so you know what that means! TOO MUCH FREE TIME! so hopefully ill send out 1 or 2 more chapters? I don't want to make this too long but just wanted to say thanks

-charley

*EDITED*