The sun was shining brightly that morning in the small town of Mystic Falls. Men and women alike were walking toward their shops or workplaces, ready to start another day in their life.

Soon children, accompanied by their parents, would reluctantly made their way toward the local schools. The town square would soon be filled with people from various committees, all intent on organizing the next big cultural event to take place in the small but lively town.

In the midst of all these people a young woman immersed in her own thoughts, slowly walked toward her future. She had no activity to mind for the next eight hours nor was she an employee in any of the local shops.

She had long since finished her studies and had no intention of ever attending a single class in her life again. Even though she generally relished in town's events, this time she barely noticed the ongoing preparations.

She was far too occupied to pay attention to such small things.

Stopping at a red light, waiting for the opportunity to cross the street, she observed the people around her. While these humans hurried about, all eager to start another day in their brief lives, she was about to embark in what was probably the most dangerous adventure of all.

Sometimes she envied the normalcy of their lives. They didn't have to worry about being bitten by a werewolf on a full moon, nor did they risk being seriously burnt when picking flowers if they weren't careful.

The sun was their precious ally, while for some of their species it was a dangerous, if not deadly, enemy.

Elena smiled bitterly. They didn't even imagine that coexisting with their normal, ordinary world, there was another one full of mysteries and supernatural events.

They didn't know that vampires, witches, werewolves and all sorts of supernatural creatures walked alongside them every day.

They didn't know what it felt like to run faster than the wind, they didn't experience the adrenaline high of a werewolf howling at the moon together with its brothers and sisters, they didn't feel the rush of magic surging through their bodies while chanting the next complicated enchantment.

But Elena did. She was a vampire. She had been for the past thirty-seven years of her life. Some days she relished in her powers. The ability to control minds surely was useful on occasion. Same could be said for her strength, speed and unnaturally fast healing.

They were the kind of abilities that every human wished to have at least once in their life. The immortality bit could become troublesome after a while. At least that is what the older vampires had told her. She was still quite pleased of her eternal youthful appearance.

When the light finally became green, Elena swiftly crossed the street walking toward the residential area of Mystic Falls.

There could be found only the villas and mansions of the most rich men and women of the town. That's exactly where she would be working from that day on, hopefully.

She was supposed to meet her new boss in less than twenty minute at his Mansion.

The Mikaelson Mansion.

Hurrying toward her destination she thought again about her mission. Yes, she wasn't simply looking for a job to get some money. God knew that she didn't have that kind of problems to worry about.

No, things were quite more serious than that. She had on her shoulders the weight of the entire supernatural community.

What Elena had forgotten to mention was that, while it certainly wasn't bad being a supernatural creature, it wasn't easy living in their world lately.

Once, their world had been a synonym of freedom, of life without rules except for one: don't let the humans know about their existence. Vampires used to prey on humans without fear.

Some bled them dry, others decided to only drink what they needed, leaving the human alive. Sometimes thanks to compulsion Elena herself had drunk her share, simply erasing that particular memory from her victim's mind.

However, she liked to leave them with the means to improve their lives. She would compel some to study harder, instead of wasting their years partying.

To others she would tell to stop doubting themselves, others would suddenly find the courage to reveal their feelings to their crushes.

She knew that witches and werewolves did something similar, to the best of their abilities. A lot of werewolves she knew personally, had decided to work as rangers or had entered in the US Forest Service.

While sometimes accident happened in which humans were killed, especially when the wolves were experiencing the first transformations, during their everyday life they liked to think that they re-payed their debts by safeguarding the environment, the animals that lived there and the people who found themselves in trouble while camping, or for whatever reason.

Witches tended to prefer to blend in with the humans, ending up mistaken for one themselves.

They all lived in their separated clans, trying not to interfere with other witches businesses, and they absolutely refused to side with any other supernatural creature.

They wanted nothing more than to be left to their own lives. They did like, however, to help those that they liked.

More than one human had been miraculously healed, or had won the lottery just when it was needed more.

They were small things, but since they all had to share the same world, they figured they had to help each other. It didn't matter that most people didn't know of their existence, most of them felt that they needed to help the humans, since sometimes they became collateral damage in this or that feud.

All this had changed twenty-five years ago. The night of the twenty-eight of June of twenty-five years before something unexplainable happened. All around the world witches had started to lose their magic.

Even the most simple of enchantments had become unreachable even for the most skilled witches. They all had thought that what was happening was temporary, but during the following days they had discovered the awful truth: they could no longer practice magic.

And without magic they had no way of finding out what exactly had happened.

Vampires and werewolves had not particularly cared about their problem. It was certainly regrettable that vampires could no longer count on witches to create daylight rings for them, but they could still survive.

Most of them had lived in the darkness for so long that they had no problem continuing doing it. Werewolves had never really interacted with the witches to begin with, so while some of them were sympathetic with their plight, the majority of their community simply went on living as if nothing had ever happened.

If only they had known what their indifference would lead to.

Six years after that night one of the Original Vampires, the one who had started the bloodlines of all vampires existing in the world, Klaus Mikaelson had come out of nowhere and had declared himself king of their world.

No one had believed him.

How could they? Even though he was an Original and a hybrid, how was he supposed to rule over their entire world?

A pack of werewolves had dared to openly defy him, telling him that no werewolf would ever bow down to him. Klaus had only smiled. He had offered to everyone the possibility to swear loyalty to him right then and there.

If they swore he would welcome them into his new kingdom, otherwise they would receive the proper punishment.

Some vampires had immediately knelt in front of him.

Some of them respected him, knew what he was capable of and found him worthy of their allegiance. Others were simply afraid of him and had no desire to find themselves face to face with his anger.

The rest, however, had simply gone away, refusing to consider him their king, a title that had no meaning in their world.

There had never been a king of the supernaturals.

The following days everyone had to face the impossible. The daylight rings of all the vampires that had challenged him, stopped working leading their possessor to death in the sunlight.

Those who didn't have a daylight ring, found themselves with the irresistible urge to walk into broad daylight.

The werewolves that had refused to bow down to him, could no longer control their transformation: they started to turn even in the middle of the day, sometimes remaining stuck halfway in agony between man and wolf.

No one knew how Klaus could do such a thing. No one was willing to challenge him further.

Thus Klaus became their king. During the following years everything changed. To prevent them from forming clans strong enough to defy him, Klaus ordered to everyone, vampires and werewolves alike, to not live in groups of more than five people.

No more vampires were to be turned without his permission. No more werewolves were to trigger their curse if they didn't ask him to.

If anyone disobeyed, they were immediately disposed of.

To make everyone follow these rules, Klaus created his own version of a guard corps. Vampires and werewolves alike who had sworn allegiance to him immediately.

All of them had a tattoo on their right hand of a sun and a moon with fangs pointing toward each other: the symbol for hybrid so they always knew who was their master.

It wasn't merely a decorative mark. No one knew how, but if they disobeyed his orders in any way that mark would also be the cause of their premature death.