Disclaimer : I don't own The Originals. That honored titleship goes to none other than Julie Plec. I only own the OC characters that I make up, Nicholas. And if I did owned either the Vampire Diaries or the Originals, then Elijah would have his neck snapped, Klaus punched for killing innocent Tim, and lastly Elena and Jeremy would dead. Kol would still be alive but human. But sadly I don't own either television production.
Author's Note : There will be some bashing in this story. And if you don't like it, then you can turn back now. Other than that enjoy at your own risk!
Chapter 1
Interlude into the Fire
Well, let's start this off, where I think we left off. Just right after the power shift in roles here in New Orleans between Niklaus Mikaelson and Marcel Gerard. Rebekah has now sided with Marcel in attempts to recollect with the past. And Elijah is still holding on to his feelings over Klaus's pregnant one night stand, Hayley. Added to that Klaus's rogue sired hybrid is now in the catacombs of the Garden. Now think that we are caught up to speed so I'll just get right to the point.
My name is Nicholas. I'm fifteen years old. And I have short black hair with dark chocolate brown eyes and dark mocha brown skin. I'm a witch who hates the idea of being dragged into the vampire problems . Which leaves us witches and warlocks with more problems and deaths than it should. Added to that I'm also the son of Sabine, who apparently has not practiced Ancestral magic. But instead practiced Traditional magic. Seeing that you are probably thinking, why am I not practicing Ancestral magic? But here is the low down Marcel and Niklaus are using the Harvest empowered Davina, who can apparently use her special gift of Sensory to sense anyone who uses any and all types of Ancestral Magic. For some reason, I knew that one day that the shit was going to hit the fan one day. So I decided upon myself to be prepared for the worst.
Right now, I'm sitting on my bed still reading over my grand-aunt Gloria's rather large grimoire that has now been in my possession for the past year and eight months. Along that I honed quite a few remarkable skills over the past few months of studying witchcraft. Like for instant where most witches could just control just the elements fire, water, air, and earth. I can now control lightning and the weather to some extent. Also I can read people's auras, have future visions like my mom, communicate with the dead, levitate, control light energy, finally astral project myself without the use of a spell. And I'm still practicing with just the basics. Still not read to try out my second spell yet. Since the first gave me more information than I need about the Mikaelson's that arrived in New Orleans and Mystic Falls.
Yes, I know what happen down in Mystic Falls. But not lets get off topic. Here I am just waiting for Sophie to let me out of this room. Since we both know that my own mother, Sabine has just got captured by Marcel to use as his personal witch tracker when Klaus or Elijah have a problem with keeping that damn bitch, Hayley in one place. So I think it's high time, I go after the originals myself. Seeing that Agnes is now dead and no one can finish the ritual to the Harvest. Which almost leaves the witches and warlocks who do practice Ancestral magic a little desperate than usual. Trying to capture Davina now, and seeing that the girl is now on the streets with Camille. It leaves everything that is now happening with Klaus and Marcel totally screwed over.
So I thought, what better time than to go to the originals household than now. Time to show off my skills and hopefully get them to cooperate with me. So I focused on the rather large grimoire with my telekinesis. Soon enough it closed, and I placed it under my bed. Then walked towards the door, I grabbed my dark gray zip-up hoodie and focused my telekinesis on the door and let myself out. Checking if Sophie was around at all, and to my surprise she was not. Probably at Lafayette's Cemetery. I didn't think nothing of it and just walk my merry way out the door smiling.
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