fantasy ━━ the originals¹

five.

      "What's going on in there?" Hayley asked, taking a spot beside the werewolf who was sitting on a stool by the island.

Simply shrugging, Moira gave the girl a response. "Klaus is getting onto Sophie's ass about both our bad encounters with the witches last night."

"Sophie, look," A particular blonde spoke up in an attempt to capture the witch's attention. "I promised Elijah that I would protect the Mikaelson miracle babies whilst he tries to win your witch Davina's loyalty. Why don't you tell me just how extreme this faction is?"

It seemed like all else had failed to be accounted for – all except for the portion in which Rebekah had mentioned a particular witch. "Elijah's talking to Davina?" Sophie questioned.

"Yeah," Rebekah responded in a nonchalant manner, seeming to not have identified the witch's shock in her words. "as we speak, I imagine."

"I'm guessing she'll have plenty to say about that crowd."

"Do tell."

It was only then that the conversation began to peak Moira's interest – she's always appreciated a small backstory, especially one regarding such a mysterious young girl such as this Davina Claire. Therefore, the girl set down her pop-tart before eagerly pushing herself off the stool she'd been seated on in order to exit the kitchen. With Hayley on her tail, the young girl quickly rounded a corner and another before she finally reached the living area in which the discussion was taking place.

As expected by the two pregnant women, their presence was merely ignored by the three. "I wasn't always an advocate for the witches," Sophie began. "My sister was devoted, like our parents, and our upbringing was very strict, which drove me nuts. The minute I turned twenty-one, I left the Quarter to travel and play. But, I wanted to be a chef, so I came back to Rousseau's. One day, Jane-Anne visited me to inform me that the elders casted a vote for the Harvest to commence."

Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Rebekah voiced the question that had surely been floating inside everyone's mind. "What the bloody hell is a Harvest?"

"It's a ritual the coven does every three centuries so that the bond to our ancestral magic is restored." The witch replied. "We appease our ancestors, they keep our ancestral power flowing."

"And why haven't I heard of this?" Klaus questioned, curious to know how he hadn't heard of such a thing in all the years he's walked among the earth.

"Because the Harvest always seemed like a myth. A story passed on through generations like Noah's Ark or Buddha walking on water. The kind some people take literally, and some people don't.

"They had the girls of our community preparing for months." Sophie continued. "Four would be chosen for the Harvest. They said that it was an honor, that they were special. I thought it was a myth."

Seeming genuinely interested in what the witch had to say, Rebekah asked yet another question. "Was it a myth?"

After momentarily diverting her gaze to the floor in what appeared to be shame, Sophie opened her mouth to respond to the Original. However, before she could get a word out, the sudden sound of a ringing cell phone had pierced through the tense, quiet atmosphere. Each of the four women in the living area turned their gaze toward the culprit as he pulled the device out of his pocket. The women proceeded to watch in curiosity as he analyzed the screen for an identification before standing from his spot on the couch and answering the call.