𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋, Deena rushed home and threw her backpack on the bed. It was another long, boring day filled with nothing since most of her classes had nothing to do which resulted in seniors being able to leave early or hang around until the bell.

       Grabbing the Mahogany Teakwood scented candle from off the marble bathroom counter, Deena placed the candle on the desk and lit the wick with a wave of her hand. Then tied up her hair sweating down her neck.

        Uncle E enlightened the idea of creating a soundproof room from super-hearing supernaturals. From her family, especially her father. Out of all the spells Aunt Freya taught or learned on her own, the thought never crossed Deena's mind. And sometimes she'd forget she's a witch with unlimited power.

        Also, the spell shouldn't require much but salt, having learned about the different connections specific salt has with magic.

        A knock interrupted Deena in the middle of casting the spell after throwing salt into the flames. A mere invitation and Aunt Freya entered dressed in a satin wide-leg trousers with a thick waistband almost like a belt high on her waist. A silk blouse cut deep between her breasts and loose on her arms, tucked, her girlish bob hidden under a silk turban with long necklaces and earrings putting together the outfit. Her bold mix-matching colors and retro look always had Deena looking forward to what she'd wear next.

        "Someone's looking for extra credit." Aunt Freya teased while observing the safety of the spell Deena continued casting. Her Nordic accent wasn't as strong as Dahlia's but it was very present with a southern hint.

        When finished in hopes it'll work, she gave up her attention. "It's to soundproof the room so I can finally have privacy for once."

        "Smart. Now your father can stop complaining about the loud provocative music you play every night, which I do love. This generation of music is colorful and loud."

        Music that's usually played when doing homework, for personal reasons, or a chance to relax.

        "Did it work?" Deena asked. "The spell?"

        "No need asking me when you can simply feel the magic expanding within your bedroom. Don't you feel it?"

        Deena focused on that feeling, unsure what to look for and how, but something did feel different. "A little bit." Uncertainty in her answer.

        "Then it worked! You're getting better at this, stronger each day. Soon you'll be able to sense not only your magic but the presence of others." Aunt Freya found interest in the silver necklace which Erik gifted when Dahlia was around and leaned against the dresser. "Do you have any plans for the day?" She tangled the jewelry between her manicured fingers.

        Deena shrugged. "Homework I guess. Why? You offering something better?"

        She returned the necklace and inhaled with thought.

        "I just woke up after a century of rest. You know nothing of this state and I need to catch up with society. Why don't we help each other out?"

        "What do you have in mind?"

        "Something..." She trailed to build mischief. "Fun perhaps. And that involves food. I'm starving. "

      𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓, missing its traditional cultured foods filling her belly and sending her off to a nice rest after being stuffed with sizable proportions.

        She and her aunt walked the streets of the French Quarter, introducing many places and their usage once shown to Deena or that she discovered on her way to work. Aunt Freya would point out reconstructed buildings with places she remembered before it was either demolished or burned to the ground.

        It must be hard to adjust to modern technology on the rise. Where travels to the moon is possible, color TV, more rights given to women despite how quickly they could be taken away, in a country where dresses and covering skin weren't the norm and the color of one's skin wasn't segregated — although are still effected in someway no matter the generation or passed laws.

        Deena was her aunt's guide to the new world. Often treating her like a grandma with slow and precise explanations, having constantly to repeat herself or demonstrate the solved problem no matter when. But she didn't mind helping. She understood her predicament. In return, she gets amazing stories from a time before her birth and magic training.

        Then they grew hungry and Mama's Joint was right down the street.

        Lovelie waved after checking in with a nearby table the second a bell rang upon the door opening. "I haven't seen your face or a Mikaelson in my restaurant in a good minute. I was sure my food done ran y'all out the city." She joked.

        "The way the city was looking a year ago, it wouldn't have been your food running me out of town." Said Deena. Her aunt brushed her, eye-googling another's plate with hunger. "This is my aunt."

        "Freya. Pleasure meeting you."

        "Lovelie and it's lovely to meet you too." The pun wasn't intended though offered to be referred to as one. While pushing her braids over her shoulder, Lovelie led them to a table with the menus already settled. "Since you're my special guest, I'll be serving you today. What can I get you to drink?"

        "On The Rocks if you have it. Or your strongest alcoholic drink." Aunt Freya slipped a cigarette between her lips but caught Lovelie's expression before lighting it. "I assume smoking isn't allowed?"

        "No. Sorry. But you're more than welcome to step outside for a quick smoke."

        "These damn laws are constantly changing. I remember when it was an acceptable normality, now I get looked at like I'm killing a dog." She pulled the cigarette from her lips and placed it back in its case, with more frustration under her breath. "The new world has its perks but this isn't one of them."

        Deena felt Lovelie's attention burn as she searched for an explanation which she didn't have without sounding crazy. "She's not from here. She's European." But that doesn't explain the southern touch in her accent. "Southern Europe...who watches tons of American films — but I'll have water. Double the ice."

        Lovelie forced a smile and left to get their drinks.

        It's been consistently hot for weeks as summer lurked and resulted in less clothing, portable fans, mist sprayers, a ton of sunscreen, and reusable water bottles as the heat grew more prominent. Lovelie came back with their iced waters plus a colorful drink for Aunt Freya and took their order to place in.

        "So," Aunt Freya started after downing half her drink. "How's the college search going? You know where you're applying to or however these things work?"

        Right. College...

        "I've applied to Tulane University. All my friends are going to Tulane so I'll see them there too."

        "Are you going because your friends are or because you want to?"

        Crunching on ice, Deena shrugged. "Well, Maman went to Tulane and I wanna follow in her footsteps. She couldn't graduate because of certain circumstances," She motioned to herself. "but I plan to do so. To be honest, I'm a little nervous. I heard their acceptance rates are low, so even if my GPA and test scores are on top, the possibility of me getting accepted may be nonexistent."

        Aunt Freya scoffed. "Your father's a hybrid who can compel anyone to do just about anything. I don't think you have much to worry about in that department. You just focus on gathering what you need and let us take care of the rest."

        "I know he can compel my acceptance. But I wanna see if I can get in first with my GPA before using him as the last result."

        Deena wasn't ashamed to admit that if she didn't get accepted to Tulane University with her application alone, she'd seek outside sources and make sure her name was in their system before the start of the semester. She must get accepted. She's determined to do whatever it takes. She will complete her mother's wishes as well as her own and graduate.

        After their meal, Aunt Freya left to pay the bill. Deena sipped the last of her water, playing the ice between her tongue to melt before following behind her aunt to the cashier. Turns out Lovelie was hiring in search of a new waiter, so they stayed a few minutes to fill out the application.

        She'll miss working at the café though she won't miss rush hours and entitled customers. And the many fuck-ups confused with all these new seasonal flavors debuting. Cami was one of her regulars who would order an iced Americano. She always came to check in and catch up when it wasn't too busy. And of course, the other regular with the cheeky accent. He'd sit near the window, stiff, as though he was focusing on his surroundings, and would stare out the window every now and then. He didn't bother anyone but had a mouth on him when he spoke, often curious about Deena's background.

        But as much as the café was fun, working at a restaurant would give Deena the experience she truly needed. She could build her way up to cooking in the kitchen.

        They were back on the hot streets. Their next stop was a nearby market. A place Aunt Freya wanted to check if it was still there.

        A sending message buzzed in Deena's back pocket. A message from Quinn wondering if there's been any progress. Any progress? Oh right.

        She almost forgot about Quinn inviting her over to a sleepover.  No special occasion but in need of a girls' night filled with baked sweets, movie marathons, exchanging gossip, and possibly sneaking out to indulge in the life of a reckless teenager.

        Deena had been to Quinn's place a couple of times after school but never stayed over. Her father was sooo against the idea of her sleeping in others' houses if not her own. He believed there was some secret agenda or it was an excuse to sneak people in and engage in sexual activities. Even offered Quinn to stay at the compound as an alternative, and for obvious reasons, that's a fat NO.

        However, Aunt Freya's been successful when it came to convincing her young brother of something. Perhaps, she could use her big sister skills again.

        Clutching her phone in hand, she moved closer to her aunt who sensed she needed something. "Can I ask you a favor?"

        "Anything."

        "Do you think..." Deena trailed to build tension, only to end up speaking faster than she ever had. Her pronunciation grew worse and her accent grew thicker. "...YouConvinceYourBrotherMeSleepingOverMyFriend'sHouseTheWeekend?" She took a breath. "It's nothing big. Just us. I've been to her house before and I'll be there 24/7 completely safe."

        Aunt Freya chuckled. She knew how difficult her brother could be especially toward his daughter, and how impactful his strict fathering could force Deena to act on her own resulting in more trouble. From a personal experience, she knew better than anyone. "Let me see what I can do." She smiled warmly.

        𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄-𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 of the Greek and Italian-inspired home located in Garden District, her father knocked against the red double iron doors, standing proudly and surprisingly patient with his arms locked below his back.

        After much convincing and bringing up taboo topics about women as an example of future conversations he'd hear between the two if Quinn slept over instead, he finally agreed. Of course, with Aunt Freya's help. His only condition amongst a few others was to be able to send Deena off himself.

        Waiting for someone to answer, Klaus admired the details of their home. The usage of colors and the embellished features such as Corinthian columns, covered balconies, full-length windows, and overall a beautiful lot covered in nothing but green. A home fitting for a chief executive.

        Deena tightened her duffle bag when a disfigured shadow appeared through the stained glass of the main door. She thought it was Quinn until her dad dressed in a kale green sweater and brown pants answered the door instead.

        The instant smell of sandalwood filled their sensitive nose and sunlight bounced off his shiny bald head. He then frowned when lifting his gaze. "Klaus." He greeted with disinterest like his mood was killed by his presence alone.

        "Dr. Oliver," Though the replica of his greetings was the complete opposite, his tone seemed a bit...playful. "Lovely to see you this fine day. How's the hospital holding up?"

        "As usual."

        "And Joseph, your brother, I believe? Last I heard he discovered a newfound religion and hitchhiked the last bus out of town to join a cult welcoming him with open arms."

        Dr. Oliver pursed his lips. "Dead."

        "I wonder how."

        Cocking his head, a malicious grin inching his pink lips while idling his gaze as an innocent gesture, gave the impression he knew something no one did. At least Deena didn't. She was uninterested in their small talk. Any less than Dr. Oliver who glared before sighing heavily, wishing to be anywhere but here.

        The door tugged wider, revealing Quinn squeezing next to her father pulling Deena in a tight, lung-compressing hug. The sweet pomegranate scent emitting from her scalp filled her nostrils when she embraced her friend as if they hadn't just seen each other in school earlier today.

        "Finally, we got you here to stay." Quinn expressed, fixing her loose diamond earring which got caught in Deena's curls. "Mr. Mikaelson, thank you for changing your mind though it took a year for you to agree. I promise your daughter's in safe hands and we won't do anything crazy. At least, I hope not..." She purposely trailed to gain a reaction out of him knowing how paranoid he was.

        But before they could witness his reaction, Deena found herself on the other side of the door, enchanted with the interior of their home each time she was there. The many nude colors with a play of orange and greens felt more homey than the dull mess back at the abattoir. She sometimes wished this was her home instead, but the abattoir had its qualities too.

        Klaus attempted to follow behind Deena wanting to see her inside the home then at the door — which wasn't part of the original deal of only walking her to the door — but was shunned at a magical forcefield refusing him over the threshold.

        Right. He's never been invited in.

        Dr. Oliver caught his pressing gaze gesturing to be invited in as he was no stranger to their world. But instead of inviting him in, Dr. Oliver pulled the door closer while at the same time blocking his view of Deena still held up in a conversation with Quinn. "Nothing personal, but I intend to keep my environment free of your kind for my mental health and my family's safety. I see enough of you at work." Cocking his head demeaningly. "You understand, right?"

        Klaus's lips twitched. "Perhaps you can understand with my daughter under your care for the weekend, I'd like to make sure you aren't up to your barbaric mad doctor schemes."

        "I'm a healthcare provider, Mr. Mikaelson, not Professor Frink."

        "I've been on this earth long enough to know the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Spare me — "

        "And spare me the nonsense." Dr.Oliver spoke over Klaus, failing to repress his countenance through the exchange for the sake of remaining professional because of their children's friendship. It was then they were aware of the heated conversation taking place. "I don't need no white man explaining me the history of my lineage about my people. Whatever my folks done did, that was long ago and often done in the revenge of our oppressors." Klaus clenched his jaw, taking the blow as Dr.Oliver scoffed seeing how this was news to him. "All that longevity and still clueless about what we do for our people within the supernatural fractions — a line your daughter happens to fall under. You should be at ease to know she's safe here. She'll always be. But for you...I'm afraid I can't say the same."

        Quinn rushed to grab her dad away from the door before his head popped off and Deena replaced his spot, stopping her father from acting out. "Pa, ce n'est pas grave, tu peux t'en aller maintenant. (Dad, it's fine. you can go now). Thanks for dropping me off." A nervous chuckle wasn't enough to hide her embarrassment. "Please." She practically begged.

        He held in his wrath for the sake of his daughter and her pleading eyes and stepped down. Though he wished to add more to the previous conversation, he accepted his defeat. For now.

        "Call me the second you're in trouble." He said. "And If I call you — "

        "I pick up at the first ring, I know. We go over this all the time. It's a sleepover, not a cult initiation. I'm safe."

        Deena tried to understand that he'd been in her life for about a year and some months, and with being an immortal with a thousand years on his back, a year was the equivalent of three months to him. At least, that's what Aunt Bekah said in their last call. Therefore, he doesn't want to miss even the slightest sneeze or a fallen strand either to make up for lost time or it's his attempt at being a parent.

        But sometimes...a lot of time, he could be overbearing. And while Deena dealt with it for the sake of strengthening their relationship, she had to draw a line at some point.

        She leaned to kiss his cheek goodbye. "I'm safe." She assured again. "So don't make excuses to call me whenever you feel like it, and stop antagonizing my friend's parents. I can handle myself. Okay?"

        A hand trailed through his loose curls. "Okay." He mumbled.

        He didn't sound sincere, at least about the friend's parent part, but it was something.

        After he left partially unsatisfied on his end, the excited teens rushed up three flights of stairs toward Quinn's bedroom with themes inspired by dark academia and coquette aesthetics. From the 19th-century patterning wallpaper and the random pedestals with stacked books and vases of dead flowers and creepy candle holders to the wall of framed cut-out quotes from her favorite books, and a huge built-in library surrounding the mounted flat-screen TV. The complete opposite of Deena's room.

        A figure perked from Quinn's bed the moment they entered. "Hi!" Roma greeted with a smile big enough to brighten the room. Her fingers rushed to smooth out her white crop tank styled with high-waisted shorts, her long black hair tugged in a loose ponytail.

        Roma Núñez.

        Roma moved from Miami, Florida to New Orleans at the start of senior year. Her father accepted a new promotion which resulted in the sudden relocation. Deena adopted her in the circle the first day they met, and with them having two classes together — plus lunch — they clicked almost immediately. Quinn liked her too.

        Not only was she super sweet and funny, but was a beast in sports. She became the Queen in no time. Faster and better than everyone. A true athlete with a bright future.

        She also has no clue about the supernatural world, and Deena intends to keep it that way. She'll remain in her bubbly bubble of good grades and constant practices without rest and a boba tea fanatic.

        Deena placed her bag next to the desk of medical books and cute character pens. "Roma? Didn't think you'd make it. You said sleepovers weren't your thing."

        "People change their minds." Said Quinn. "Your dad sure did."

        True.

        "The idea of fashion shows and romcom movie marathons is scary, but I couldn't miss out on all the fun. Like Quinn said, people change their minds." Roma lowered her head, biting her smile. "Plus, you're here." Merely glancing in Quinn's direction, she added, "The both of you are here."

        Quinn squinted her eyes, nibbling on a chocolate-covered pocky stick. "Mhmm." She never doubted her senses.

        "What about the family tradition thing going on tonight?" Deena asked, searching for a plug to charge her phone so her family wouldn't freak.

       Roma waved her hand. "The thing about family traditions is they do it every year and it's all the same, so I'm not really missing much."

        Her gaze shot from Deena as she stood having no idea she was being stared at — Quinn knew and observed quietly in her front-row seat. "Well, I'm glad you changed your mind."

        "Me too."

        Quinn chuckled earning a glare from Roma as she spoke. "God, you're so obvious and you're so oblivious. It's really painful to watch."

        Deena furrowed her brows. "What are you talking about?"

        Oblivious? Me? She was so self-aware of her surroundings. She had to be given the environment. There's no telling when another individual will wake up one day and make it their life's mission to sacrifice Deena for whatever foolish reason.

        Roma rushed to shut Quinn up. She attempted to run but Roma was quicker and mouthed something Deena couldn't see. Quinn backed down but didn't stop her laughter. Then turned back with a forced grin.

        "Ignore her. She's just saying shit trying to start something." Roma said.

        "Okay..." Deena shrugged it off. "Anyway, I formed a habit of cooking French cuisines or something new for Quinn whenever I'm here. I can use more feedback since someone isn't so helpful." She shot a pointed glare toward Quinn.

        "Woah now," Quinn lifted her hands, a new pocky stick between her glossy lips. "My parents barely be home to cook so to have a friend who willingly cooks for fun and for her friends and is good at it, is a match made in heaven. If only Niles cooked for me, we'd be married by now."

        Laughter spreads like a contagious disease.

        Quinn and Niles had been dating for two months. He decided to put behind his fear and go for it, though for the sake of her protection, they hung out in public places and never after sunset. Quinn thinks he's a gentleman, and he was, unaware it was so he doesn't slip and suck her dry. But someone who grew up learning about the kind of monsters lurking in their very shadows, Quinn was the oblivious one.

        She has no idea her boyfriend's a vampire and Niles wants it that way. He promises to tell her himself when the timing's right but after they graduate high school. But there's a lot of time from now and graduation. Anything could happen.

        The three spent the next couple of hours gossiping in the kitchen while Deena practiced a NOLA dish to win a spot in Mama's Joint's kitchen. Roma treated the session like it was a cooking show and they were the judges, though she'd forget her role to clean up here and there.

        After late dinner, they spent the night discussing their prom dresses and recorded a variety of short dances. Even learned a Beyoncé choreography, squeezing in the body-sized mirror to see themselves. Then settled down to binge through the Saw series as a bet of who would throw up first.

        Quinn was the strongest to watch without feeling squeamish. Roma was knocked out after the 3rd movie and Deena was still feeling snackish. She appreciated Quinn accommodating her werewolf appetite by preparing twice as many snacks as usual but failed to add the all-star athlete into the equation so they were almost out of everything.

        "Have you ever thought about tracking your mom?" Quinn rambled as they entered the kitchen for more snacks. "I mean, you're a witch now — plus more — and your aunt has been training you for a year or so. She ain't teach you nothing about locating missing people or items?"

        Quinn understood how desperate Deena was to find her mother after she went missing. Filing a missing report didn't help much, retracing their steps around the Bayou was a dead-end, and asking for a woman who hasn't lived in New Orleans for years didn't help either. It was like searching for a ghost.

        It's great having someone besides Erik to talk to about these things with and Quinn's a great listener, but Deena's been slowly losing her mind.

        She hasn't told anyone yet nor has she logged it in her messy diary, but she's convinced she played a role in her mother's disappearance. Think about it. Deena barely recognized her mother while transitioning, hunted by the lingering memory of blood gushing down her legs from a gash she created. If she didn't recognize her then while in the middle of part human and part beast...

       What if I killed her?

       What if I ignored her pleading cries for help as I tore her body into pieces like meat on a bone, and the only reason I had no clue was of First-Timers Blackout?

        Locating her mother with magic was a brilliant idea. The idea never occurred still forgetting she's a witch now with insane possibilities. And in her defense, she's only practiced the spell three times over a year with Aunt Freya's teachings.

        But...Deena was terrified. What if tracking her mother reveals whatever truth she's reluctant to uncover — a truth resulting in her brutal murder?

        The slamming of barbecue chips brought Deena from her current thoughts to Quinn smirking mischievously at her genius proposal. She quirked a brow. "So? Will you do it or...?" She prompted for positive answers only.

        Deena managed a small smile though her mind drifted. "I'm still rusty, but I can try. I just need a map," snagging the chips in her hand. "and more snacks."

        "Deal. Also, I have a map!"

        Quinn searched the cabinets for more snacks as promised. She'll have an earful tomorrow once her mother realizes the snacks she bought recently that should've lasted for months were gone in one night.

        Grabbing what she could and placing them on the counter, Quinn realized something and smiled bashfully. "Actually, my dad has one in his office." She said. "Let's bring up the snacks afterward since it's gonna be a lot to carry tryna feed you and Miss. Ana Guevara."

        The two rushed down the narrow hallway, taking a sharp turn until they were standing inside Dr. Oliver's work office. A detailed map of New Orleans hiding within a thick rectangular frame hung behind the oval desk. Deena had never stepped foot in his office before this night. It was labeled as the forbidden place to never enter which Quinn knew as well, yet they entered anyway. Let's hope the hospital keeps him there longer.

        The unsettling vibes of his office created an erring feeling and the framed wall of preserved insects and labeled plants including wolfsbane and vervain didn't help either. Trailing along the wall of boring books with titles that were too complicated to sound out, her interest perked when she wandered upon a thick book titled 'The Royal Settlers of The 18th Century To 1919'. Aunt Bekah mentioned they traveled from afar and discovered a home here in New Orleans. Though she never specified the year, Uncle E often brought up memories around the 18th century when discussing the youngest brother, Kol.

        Tipping the book to squeeze out of its tight hold, Deena was shocked once she read the opening title.

𝗧 𝗛 𝗘  𝗠 𝗜 𝗞 𝗔 𝗘 𝗟 𝗦 𝗢 𝗡

        The book was about her family and their history reigning over New Orleans into what it's become today. The reason behind everyone's fear and distaste when speaking their names.

        Whenever they discussed the past around Deena — who's normally the one asking — her father responded with pride, dousing in his title as King he once was and will forever be. Aunt Bekah often avoided the question, Aunt Freya hid nothing in the year she lived, Marcel sure had stories to tell, and Uncle E was visibly uncomfortable reminiscing prime years of countless murders and power — besides when speaking of art — before his niece. And no matter what, it was always the good. Never the gruesome and gritty stuff.

        Intrigued, Deena continued reading.

𝙄𝙣 1702, 𝙖 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙝𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙊𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨, 𝙇𝙤𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙖, 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚. 𝘼 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙-𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙. 𝘼 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙆𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨 𝙈𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝘼 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡.

        Quinn's interrupting voice kept Deena from reading past the opening paragraph. "Some help here, please! You're the strong one, not me. I can't hold it any longer." She was squatted in an awkward position with too much weight on her arms.

        "I'm coming," She left the book as it was and rushed to help Quinn. Of course, the weight was nothing to her, and could lift it herself but Quinn was determined to help regardless. "Grab the other end. We can place it on the floor since there's more space."

        The frame lies in the middle of the office.

        Quinn scratched her neck after a moment of silence. "Now what?" She asked, having no knowledge of spells or what it took to perform them besides what Deena shared.

        "Um..." What did Aunt Freya say once about performing locator spells? "Ah! I need something that belongs to the missing person or the closest connection."

        Eyes wandered around the room until Deena sighted a box cutter downwards in a pencil holder. She didn't have anything on hand that belonged to her mother, but blood was the closest connection. With her left hand held over the frame, she hissed as the blade split her skin and blood poured. But she healed quickly after a few seconds, having to cut herself again and again.

        Deena's pain tolerance was quite high as opposed to her immortal family who had years of practice. She would've stopped if she wasn't desperate.

        "I will never get used to this." Quinn watched in astonishment.

        Neither will I.

        There was more than enough blood to perform the locator spell. A relieving sigh she no longer must endure the pain even if it was only for seconds. As Aunt Freya demonstrated, Deena closed her eyes to focus solely on finding her mother. Locking her image in mind, she began chanting and judging by the sudden gust of wind and the shocking gasp Quinn let out, Deena knew the spell was working.

        Blood streams from the puddle like a magnet across the map and stops once a location has been discovered.

        Quinn watched confoundedly as it reached a street rather close and more familiar. "That's... weird..." She trailed off with a nervous chuckle.

        Deena opened her eyes. She blinked. Did a double take, but no, it's true.

        Her mother's home — at The Abattoir.

        She rushed for her phone on the kitchen counter and called her mother — straight to voice mail. It didn't stop her from calling again even as it went to voice mail. AGAIN.

        Her father was out of the question so she called Aunt Freya who happened to pick up after two rings. Loud music blasting through the speaker forced the phone away from her sensitive ears.

        She must be clubbing which was her usual schedule outside of teaching magic, her way of 'getting back into society' or coping with a reckless lifestyle she could never fully experience. "Hey, beautiful. Judging by the call, I'm guessing the sleepover wasn't all that it lived up to be and you need an excuse to escape. Should we go with the classic 'My house is on fire'?"

        The quietness of music indicated she was outside away from all the distractions. "No, I'm having fun. More fun than ever so we'll save the excuse for another time. Have you been home today at all?" Deena had no intentions of stalling. It's been a year and she missed her mother dearly.

        "Not since..." She's checking the time on a phone she was still getting used to. "Honestly, I lost track of time. What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

        "You haven't seen anything strange at home? Like a ghost? Or a physical person who looks like me that may or may not be a ghost?"

        "Besides you, no. As for strange encounters, there are many but isn't the answer you're looking for. Is there something I should look out for?" Aunt Freya's voice grew anxious. "There's no ghosts you're making deals with and unleashing, right? Because if so, give me a heads-up. I've fucked over a few of them."

        Deena wished to pry further about what she's disclosed, but to ruin her aunt's night of endless drinks and hookups while also exposing the fact she's been practicing magic outside of her supervision didn't seem logical. Besides, if she's been partying all night there's no way she'd be able to confirm whether her mother's home or not.

        Deena sighed as she trailed back to Dr. Oliver's office where Quinn awaited a response. "No. Don't tell Pa, but we might've had a drink or two so I got paranoid. Sorry for calling you so late, have fun!"

        Aunt Freya chuckled and assured her her secret was safe with her before hanging up.

        "What did she say? Is your mom there?"

        "She didn't pick up and my aunt doesn't know anything." With a frustrated sigh, Deena inspected the location again. There's no way her mother was home and not contact her. She promised to never leave her again, to be as transparent with her. "It's impossible. I would know if she was there or not...right? Unless I fucked up somewhere and tracked my dad instead."

        Quinn chewed her bottom lip as she thought of the situation from a different viewpoint. "I mean, your house is pretty big. You sure you checked every room? Historically speaking, many older buildings in New Orleans are infamous for their underground tunnels and hidden rooms. Your home has been standing for centuries so it's possible she could be there."

        "But why would she be there...?"

        There were many reasons Quinn could think of as she learned the history of the Mikaelsons growing up, and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just throwing out ideas. Don't take me seriously." She tried to joke off.

        When Aunt Bekah showed her the place, nothing seemed out of the ordinary but she also never ventured around beside the usual spots. Maybe she did something wrong. There's always a flaw in magic. Perhaps she ended up locating her father since her blood was his, though she purely concentrated on her mother. But mishaps happen too.

        Footsteps tracked along the wooden floors when discovering her friends weren't in bed and hadn't returned for a while, now standing at the door, groggy and lightheaded. "What's going on? Why are y'all in here?" Questioned Roma.

        With a gasp, they followed the voice to Roma yawning with messy bed hair. Shit. They forgot she was still here or thought she'd sleep through the night as she was often a heavy sleeper.

        "Nothing, nothing. Let's get you back to bed." Quinn tried to pull Roma out of the office but she was a lot stronger.

        "Is that..." Roma followed the smeared red substance currently being cleaned up by Deena failing to hide the evidence. "Blood?" She squinted to confirm her suspicion before her brows rose in fear.

        Quinn exchanged a look with Deena before she acted fast and lifted her hand. "Solem." Roma drifted fast asleep within seconds but hit the wooden floor with a hard thud when Quinn jumped back, forcing her off her feet. "Is she okay? Did I damage her brain? I didn't think she'd hit the ground that hard! Why didn't you catch her?"

        "I wasn't expecting you to do this!" Quinn defended. "I panicked. Plus, she's all muscle. She's heavy. I didn't wanna fall with her."

        "What if she remembers this? What if she can never play sports again? Is her brain swelling?"

        Quinn lifted her heavy head and felt around. "To know we'd need a CR scan which we don't have on deck, but I'm sure she's finee..." Deena started panicking with a million thoughts attacking her brain, so she put her doctor face on. "She's an athlete; they have thick skulls! And at least she's breathing still. We'll just dump her in bed with a cool rag and say she was sleepwalking. And if it's worse, the hospital isn't but minutes away with speeding. I promise it'll be okay. What did you do anyways?"

        "Knocked her out."

        "Perfect! It fits our story well." Quinn tried to remain optimistic for both their sakes. "How long does this knock-out thing work?"

        Deena shrugged. "Never tested it."

        "That's fine too. Let's get this cleaned up and put her in bed before my dad returns from the hospital. My mom's a light sleeper and wine doesn't hold her down any longer as it should."

        Deena agreed and quickly got to work.

        Athletes were prone to suffer fewer injuries as they were more active than the average person and Roma's super active. She's also very intelligent... and possibly won't believe the sleepwalking story — no. No negativity. As long as they stick to a story and it's convincing enough, it'll be okay. For her sake, keeping her from this world will save her life.

        Therefore, there's nothing to worry about. Roma's an undiagnosed sleepwalker and Deena's mother was at home waiting for her return.

A U T H O R ' S  N O T E

— If Freya seems different to you, it's because I'm reimaging her character in the way I view her. I love Riley's portrayal, but I view Freya as the free-spirted, supportive sister who is still reckless and would do anything to keep her family together and alive, and copes her traumas by drinking and endless partying and more. She's still the same as we remember, but I wanted to add a little sum sum to her character especially if she's been in society a year every century. It makes sense for her not to know much than what she's learned in the year she lived and to resonate with a time last spent which is why she dresses like she's from the 1920s and she has an accent. The best characters I would relate her to would be Klaus from Umbrella Academy and Aunt Elizabeth from The Great. Both of them plus Riley's portrayal together is how I see her.

— Also any guesses as to who's the regular that visits Deena's job? Hint: We know him. And why Deena located her mother back home? Did she truly fuck up the spell or is there something she doesn't know?

— If anyone's wondering, events of 3rd season will happen. Just building up the reason as to why it's gonna happen especially involving Deena. Basically episode 1. Very slow without a million flashbacks and Cami pov's.