The Originals - Revenant

Chapter 4

Elijah had a very delicate selection process while the rest of us were more passionate about it.

Niklaus turned people only if he thought it would entertain him. Most of the times they wouldn't be turned willingly. Nik had a thing for theatrics and narrative so, sometimes, he would give them a story and they would follow it without hesitation, all for his enjoyment. For instance, there was this one time a newly turned nobleman slaughtered his whole state in one night; all to entertain Niklaus. Elijah found this behaviour distasteful but had a slight hope, I could see, that Nik would calm down and grow once his curse was broken.

Rebekah usually turned whoever pledged eternal love to her, be it as a lover or friend. But they were mostly empty words and broken promises.

Kol would indiscriminately turn anyone he felt like, and Finn refused to turn anyone as he said it was a curse instead of a blessing. I was sure that if he hadn't turned anyone thus far was because he was daggered.

I did not like either of their methods but I used them all, nonetheless. I tried to be responsible, like Elijah, so I didn't have that many sired vampires behind me, but when choosing them I was always led by impulses. Like when I turned Mary some years back. I liked her, and Kol and I figured she would be very fun to have around. She was reckless and a bundle of energy. Maybe not prime vampiric material, but she entertained us very well. Then Mary turned Rose and Trevor and my line started to grow. Not too much, but at least the ones I had were loyal, they were always around.

I knew that I wasn't one of the Original vampires: I couldn't compel other vampires, the white oak daggers would probably kill me, and I couldn't have my own sireline. But apart from my siblings and I, no one else knew that, so the rest of the vampires thought I had my own pretty little sireline. What my siblings and I didn't know either was whose blood had turned me. We had repeated the same process that they had when turning into vampires —blood and being impaled by Mikael's sword—, but they all had offered some of their blood. There was no way of knowing to whose sireline I really belonged.

At the ball, I spent as much time in the company of others as my patience and my feet would allow me but, eventually, I had to sit down. I saw Katerina sitting at a table alone, sighing melancholic as the rest of the guests danced, and something pushed me to go to her.

"Hello, Katerina," I said and sat down right next to her. I should have never done that.

"Hello, Lady Beyla," she responded with a courteous smile, "I hope you are having a wonderful time this evening."

"I am, thank you," I responded with a little smile, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, yes," she lied politely but I could hear her heart skip a beat. She had to learn to lie better. Although, what for? She was going to die, after all.

The silence invaded the table.

"Why are you alone? Where is Niklaus?" I finally asked scanning the crowd with my impatient eyes.

"I do not know," she said sadly, "He left a while ago. He's an important gentleman, Lord Klaus, he surely must have more urgent matters to attend to."

"Surely," I said taking pity on her, but I knew the truth. If he wasn't here is because another pretty neck had caught his attention.

I stared at her with soft eyes. Poor Katerina, she was so full of life and yet, she was scheduled to die so soon, all to complete a spell.

I frowned, I had already seen this story, it was exactly like-

It was exactly like mine. This was my story, my fate.

All those years ago I died to escape that wretched coven and their idiotic transference spell. And now I was bearing witness to history repeating itself. Different girl, different spell, sure, but same ending: death.

I noticed how my face turned pale as my blood left my checks, I felt lightheaded and a pang of immense guilt took over my senses, creating the tight knot on my stomach to reappear. I had just realized, I had been Katerina once.

"My lady," she whispered alarmed, touching my arm gently, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I responded getting up slowly, "I'm just- I'm feeling a little dizzy." I looked at her and tried to escape the reflection of myself that I was seeing now in her eyes, "I think I need some air."

She stood up immediately and hurried to help me. I didn't argue when she linked her arm with mine, offering the support of her little, frail human body. Nor I argued when she took me to the gardens and we escaped the busy ballroom, or when we were far away enough that the noise of the ballroom was replaced by the sounds of the night.

In the garden the crickets and owls made their own music, now sounding louder than the orchestra inside, and the moon illuminated perfectly the paths. We strolled through them in silence. I could notice how calm she was, while I was still struggling to get a hold of myself.

What a terrible discovery I had done. Could Katerina and I not be so different? Her destiny was very much alike the one I should have had. The difference was that I had been able to avoid it. The difference was that I had someone to help me. Someone who ended up dead.

Katerina didn't have anyone to fight for her. She didn't even know what was going on right in front of her eyes. She was distracted by the brightness of the luxurious life of us, Mikaelsons. Didn't she deserve a chance like the one I had been offered?

Didn't she deserve someone to fight for her?

I looked at her, she was silent, focused on our steps so that I wouldn't trip and fall. She cared for me, shouldn't I care for her? Wouldn't Henrik want that, for me to take the role he had played in my story? To be the light of hope to illuminate Katerina's wretched path?

He would have liked it. He would have wanted it. He would have pushed me to do it.

"Katerina, you are going to die," I blurted out.

Katerina stopped petrified. Her arm dropped to her side, unlinking itself from mine, and I faced her. Her eyes were fixed on mines with a look of utter confusion.

"Why would you said that?" she demanded, terrified.

"Because it's true," I said frowning, "And I know how and when."

She stared at me with horror in her eyes.

"And why," I added in a regretful whisper.

She gaped a couple of times but words seemed to elude her. It was natural, I supposed, to not be able to respond to such an augury.

And then I added: "But I can help you escape."

Those words would condemn me.

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