chapter twelve, the ritual is a price to pay

IT ALL FELT UNREAL. As if it was a cruel joke. And it was. A thousand years were spent trying to break a fake curse. Chasing creatures that didn't affect the ritual whatsoever. So much blood spilled, so many lives taken, so many treaties broken, and family members turned against him—for a ritual that wasn't even real.

How could he reason everything he has done? Everything he has done so that the ritual could happen. It was all on him. He spent over a thousand years bringing terror into this world and he learned to love it. To enjoy it. If Nature was so keen to keep him under control, it shouldn't have done this. It shouldn't have given the power to another person.

The worst part of all, the alcohol couldn't even take an ounce of betrayal away. Betrayed by his own mother. It wasn't his fault she decided to be unfaithful and break the laws of Nature, creating who he was. An enemy in all their eyes, but he wasn't born one.

"Anything new? You have been occupying the journal for several days now," Elijah's voice brought him back into reality. The two empty whiskey bottles didn't even make him tipsy. They didn't even numb the pathetic void in his chest.

"If you are hoping the ritual will be off—it won't be," Klaus mumbled, looking at the journal placed on the table.

Elijah walked to the table, looking through the window that was right in front of it. The moon was slowly getting fuller with every night. The ritual was coming closer. "I know the ritual must occur. It just doesn't make any sense."

Klaus chuckled and gently shook his head, "I've spent over a thousand years chasing a curse that was just as good as a fairytale. I don't think anything can make sense."

"But she has already died once," Elijah pointed out.

Yes, she has already died once. Exhaling, the incomplete hybrid pushed the journal closer to the edge, flipping the pages to reveal one of the entries.

'A power of such yearns for disaster. To undo the damage that I have spread onto this world like a disease, I asked the power of Nature to guide me. For the evil to have a chance to become good. For the murderer to save lives. For the insatiable to live content. No man should have this kind of power and the diversion will work long enough.

With the guidance of Nature, we divided the biggest purpose of the power away from the man. With the intent to not spread the disease further. The creation is the power that should have only belonged to the daughters of Nature, but to my mistake, it is spreading further. To ensure the destruction is delayed, Nature guided us to store the power in a mortal soul and let it die. When the mortal dies – the power dies with it forever and cannot be accessed ever again. Nature will choose the right soul. We do not know which one or when will it be. We trust Nature.

If, for any reason, the power is unleashed and the ritual is finished, the pure blood staining the Earth will not go unnoticed. There are conditions to unleash the power fully. We learned it this time—I learned it this time. Blood will not offer power. And the man is capable of nothing else but murder.

I trust the Nature. Nature has already paved the way for all of us. Trust it.'

"She still has the power. I can feel it inside of her," Klaus closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He spent these few days, he didn't know how many, without a blink of rest, drowning himself in alcohol that didn't influence him anymore and analysing the journal.

"And the ritual?" Elijah asked.

The journal wasn't specific about the ritual because their mother was sure it would not happen. But given the circumstances and that Ophelia's body was decaying away without the power unleashed, it was clear that the ritual was simple: she had to die to be reborn. Again. And since she has died and has been reborn again, it meant that she had to die by his hand. And, of course, there was an ounce of hope that by this the power could be transferred to him. But he knew he was wrong. Nature will never let him have that power. It kept him in a loop all this time.

Noticing that Klaus wasn't going to answer his question, Elijah continued: "I took the translation of this journal to Ophelia. She has a right to analyse all of this herself without our influence."

"My noble brother..." Klaus mumbled sarcastically.

"Now, since you are not able to see properly through your own brooding—it is said that her power will have conditions. I think it is time for you to make amends with her." The older brother suggested.

Amends? It wasn't something Klaus wanted to hear. Closing the journal, he finally looked at his brother. "If you are worried that I might kill her—don't worry, dear brother... I don't remember the last time I was so keen on keeping someone alive."

Elijah turned to him, "I have no doubts. But there is a possibility that the conditions of her power might be related to her own will. By unleashing her anger, you won't get what you want."

It wasn't that easy with her. Normally, he would threaten someone, and they would fear him for the rest of their lives. But he has threatened her, taken her, healed her, and forced her into a ritual, and yet—as much as there was hatred in her eyes, he couldn't understand what was going on in her head. She agreed to do his bidding if he would give her some time. And she didn't back down from this even after hearing about the ritual. As much as he understood that he had to sway her into seeing why he was doing this, he didn't know how. She was wary of people, of men, of him. She held strength inside of her that he wasn't capable of understanding. He didn't know how to approach her.

"And why are you telling me this? Don't think I forgot that you were on their side before all of this happened."

Elijah gently smiled. "I was against you because you hid our family. I am still against you because you will not tell me where they are. But this is not only about you."

Maybe the alcohol had some effect on him because listening to him made Klaus laugh. He shook his head, closing his eyes as he found all of this beyond amusing. "Oh, don't you tell she has caught your eye already... Come on now, brother..."

The older brother didn't find this amusing. He had nothing to hide or to be ashamed of. In fact, he found Ophelia to be interesting. She was a reminder of times that have already passed, and she was the definition of a woman with a very brave heart. He wanted to hear her story. He wanted her to be well. All of this because she got a second chance in life—such a pure soul. If this was an infatuation, so be it. He just wanted to help her survive all of this.

Elijah moved away from the window. "I see I have lightened up your mood. You are so vulnerable to feelings that you are having a blast. If you'd see her beyond the beacon of power, you'd actually be able to get what you have always wanted." He took a step closer to his brother. "This power has been inside of her since the beginning of her days. She was shaped by it and by her experiences. If our mother is right—she is the right person to hold the power of creation. You'll never have it."

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

           STANDING IN THE CIRCLE OF FIRE, in the forest, where everything had gone to hell a month ago, felt odd. The hybrid was feeling a bit anxious that she would not show up, but he still had time to get her here by force. But he wanted to give her a chance to show up herself.

           And she did.

           Klaus could hear that her brothers were in the distance, Elijah as well. But he was enjoying the fact that they were going to be alone for this. Without any dramatic interventions.

           The circle of fire lightened her up with the help of the moon, which was slowly moving towards its peak. She was wearing a simple dress, long-sleeved, reaching her ankles as it was tight around her waist and a bit more flowy down from her hips. Her hair was gently braided to keep the hair from blowing into her face as the rest of it was left free in beautiful waves. The burns on her skin, as far as he could see, were contained – she must've drunk some of his blood he had provided before to keep her well. But the depth of her eyes, her wonderful eyes, were calm even if the flames made them shine with fury.

           It was the time when she should've begged for her life. Begged him to not do this. To let her live. To let her experience things. But she didn't say anything. She was just standing, just a few feet away from him, unmoving.

           Finally, she spoke: "Where have you been in 1864?"

           Klaus took a moment to think. "New Orleans."

           "I had a theory that I have died because you were near me. I was wrong."

           His interest was piqued. "It wouldn't be the first time Nature has gotten its way." He clasped his hands behind him. "I see you have studied the journal."

           The woman didn't move an inch. "I wanted to see myself if I had a way out. I do not."

           "And how did you convince your brothers to stay away?"

           "I appreciate their concern. But I asked them to give me the chance to make a decision on my own."

           "Aren't you afraid?"

           Ophelia finally moved. She deeply inhaled, making her shoulders gently rise and fall. The fire in her eyes seemed to become gentler. "I am. But at least now I was aware of the death that is waiting for me. I got the opportunity to come here myself. To embrace myself with two outcomes."

           Klaus would be lying if her words, her stance, and her eyes didn't interest him. He wanted to get into her head and feel everything she had been feeling and thinking. He took the opportunity to close the gap between the two as the moon was coming closer to its highest point. He took a moment to listen to what she had said and feel the vulnerability that was surrounding her. She was thankful for seeing her death this time. What a tormented soul.

           "If there would be a way, I'd take this power away from you." He moved around her, standing behind her. "But since there is no way for me to do this... The sooner you give me what I need, the sooner you will get to live your life just the way you want." He gently moved her hair onto her left shoulder.

           Her body stood still even if the gentle movement made her stomach drop. Klaus gently wrapped his right arm around her waist, keeping her in her place. The left arm gently moved around her shoulders. He leaned to the right side of her neck, feeling the way her scent surrounded him. It was sweet, yet gentle. It was lulling him to give in already, but he took a moment.

           "I won't let you die," he promised as he placed his lips against the soft skin of her neck. Feeling the goosebumps on her skin and the spiking of her heartbeat, he gently leaned to her ear, whispering: "I'll be gentle. As gentle as possible. And when all of this is over, you won't ever have to feel pain again."

           He allowed himself to drown in her scent for a moment before placing another kiss just an inch below her jaw and he sunk his fangs into her fragile skin, hearing her whimper. Bitting exactly into a vein, but not piercing it completely, he started to suck her warm, sweet as honey blood. He could her hear heartbeat quickening, her body gently shaking in his grasp, and the way tears started to fall. He could feel the way he became greedy sucking her blood—he doesn't remember if there was a blood tastier than hers. Maybe it was the taste of power that was surrounding him.

          Quickly, her heart rate started to slow down, her shaking body limping in his grasp, making him hold her tighter, keeping her in his arms. He felt the power, he felt it! It was ringing in his ears, it was making his heart pound faster, and soon—just as the fire died out, he moved away from her lifeless body, feeling the way her blood was moving in his veins. Picking her limp body up, his breath quickened, feeling the way a rush of new senses surrounded him.

           Everything was clearer. Everything was louder. Everything was stronger. It has worked. The ritual has worked.

           The satisfaction was running all around him as he was holding the reason why all of this worked. He didn't know how much time he had before he would turn into a wolf, but Ophelia was still not awake. Managing to support her with only one hand, the new-found strength surprising him, he pushed her head to his shoulder.

           "Come on, Ophelia," he gently whispered. The fear spiked in his chest as he didn't want this to end. What if when she actually dies, this whole strength will disappear? Placing his free hand on her cheek, he gently stroked it. "Wake up, Ophelia!"

           As soon as he was going to place her on the ground, he felt a sudden pain in his chest—he was transforming. He quickly put her on the ground, getting on the ground himself. He felt his bones shift, break, twist—the pain wasn't as bad, it was welcoming. He wanted to feel this for centuries now.

          And as the moon lit up the transformation of a new hybrid, Ophelia's body lay still, surrounded by the nightmares that had never left her. But in the sounds of breaking bones and ripping skin, there was this distant movement of the trees – no man should have this kind of power alone.

my exam session is over! I hope I will be able to update more during the summer! how have all of you been?

quick explanation: the power was stored in Ophelia because she was mortal. If she dies - the power dies. But she got back to life and the power was back as well - uh oh! In the upcoming chapters we will slowly figure out why she is back to life, what is exactly her power, what Nature has in store for them...

why was the ritual packed with tension?? as of now, his attraction to her is based on the power or that's what he thinks...

please comment and vote! your support is everything!