The wind roared through the ruined field, swirling with the stench of blood and death. The town in the distance was still flickering with uneasy life, but the real storm was here—where the dead refused to stay dead.
And at the heart of it all, standing inside a circle of flickering blue flames—
Freya.
Her long blonde hair whipped around her face, her fingers stretched out, glowing with ancient power. Her voice rose above the howling wind, chanting in a language older than time itself.
"Frijr ilthran, montra veska...
Hektra solven, nox rithmara...
Ostara vekth, silvan dra!"
The ground trembled.
The air rippled like the surface of a lake, bending, twisting—something unseen pressing against it from the other side.
Kol and Henrik stood at the edge of the circle, watching, their faces unreadable.
Rebekah, arms crossed, muttered, "This better work."
A deep groan rumbled through the earth, like something old and hungry waking from sleep. The bodies scattered around them jerked—twitched—some even let out choked gasps as if trying to fight against the pull.
Freya's voice sharpened.
"Vekthar omna! Rethnor malstyn!
The veil must close!"
The flames around her blazed higher, turning from blue to white-hot gold. Sparks snapped and crackled in the air.
And then—
A scream.
Not from the living.
Not from the dead.
But from something else.
The sky cracked. A jagged, glowing wound split the night above them, revealing a swirling abyss beyond—black, silver, endless. Shadows moved within it, twisting, writhing.
Kol exhaled, tilting his head. "Huh. That doesn't look great."
Henrik shot him a look. "Now's not the time."
Freya gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her forehead. Her hands trembled, but she didn't stop.
"Lethnor vekth! Solven dra!"
The wound in the sky flickered—glitching, shrinking—but the shadows inside fought back. Clawed hands reached through, fingers like smoke, stretching toward the ground, toward them—
And then—
A voice.
Low. Ancient.
"You cannot undo this, witch."
Freya's breath hitched.
Kol's eyes narrowed. "Oh, that's new."
Henrik clenched his fists. "Freya, keep going!"
Freya swallowed hard, then forced more power into the spell, her voice rising.
"I command the veil to seal!"
The ground cracked beneath her feet. The flames surged.
The hands reaching through the wound recoiled, screeching, twisting into nothingness. The jagged tear in the sky pulsed—shrank—
Then—
BOOM.
A shockwave blasted outward, knocking everyone back. Dust and energy exploded through the night. The sky snapped shut, the wound sealing as if it had never been there.
Silence.
Heavy. Deafening.
Then—
Kol coughed, sitting up. "Okay. That was dramatic."
Henrik pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his temple. "Did it work?"
Freya, still on her knees, panted heavily. She looked up at the sky—clear, unbroken—then at the bodies around them. Motionless.
Lifeless.
She exhaled shakily.
"It worked."
Rebekah rolled her shoulders. "Finally." She dusted herself off and glanced around. "Well… that was unpleasant."
Kol smirked. "Come now, sister. You act like this isn't a normal Tuesday for us."
Freya groaned, dragging herself up. "Shut up, Kol."
Henrik stretched, cracking his neck. "So… now what?"
Kol grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Now?" He turned, walking toward the town, whistling.
"Now we get drinks."
The fire crackled in the grand fireplace, casting flickering shadows across the lavish lounge. The chandelier overhead swayed slightly, the last remnants of magic still thick in the air. Crystal glasses clinked as Kol poured himself another drink, humming some offbeat tune.
Freya was slumped on one of the couches, rubbing her temples. Finn sat across from her, nursing a glass of whiskey with a brooding expression, while Elijah leaned back, ever composed, though there was a tired edge to his posture.
Klaus stood by the window, swirling his drink, watching the city below.
Henrik and Ivar were sitting near the bar, Henrik tossing peanuts into his mouth while Ivar casually flipped a dagger between his fingers. Rebekah, legs draped over the armrest of a chair, sighed dramatically.
Alyssa was perched beside Kol, arms crossed, clearly still processing what had happened.
Kol took a sip of his drink and smirked. "Well, that was a fun little apocalypse we just stopped."
Freya groaned. "Fun? My head feels like it got stomped on by a horse."
"You should drink more," Kol quipped, lifting his glass in a mock toast.
Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Not everything is solved with alcohol, Kol."
Kol shrugged. "No, but it certainly makes things more tolerable."
Ivar snorted. "He's got a point."
Klaus finally turned from the window. "All that effort, and yet, I have the nagging feeling we haven't seen the last of it."
Elijah nodded, sipping his bourbon. "Unfinished business has a way of returning, no matter how tightly you think you've sealed it."
Henrik popped another peanut into his mouth. "Well, let's hope it waits until morning. I'd like to at least enjoy one peaceful night before we have to deal with another disaster."
Then—
A slow creak echoed from the hallway.
Everyone froze.
The air shifted.
And then—
Esther stepped into the room.
Silence.
Alyssa's breath hitched. Freya stiffened.
Kol's glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor.
Rebekah's eyes widened. "No. Bloody. Way."
Ivar was the first to move. He stood up, his sharp gaze locking onto her. "How?" His voice wasn't accusatory, just… confused. "The veil is closed. You should be gone."
Esther met his gaze, something unreadable in her expression. "I don't know."
That answer didn't sit right with anyone.
Klaus stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowed. "Convenient, isn't it? That you, of all people, manage to slip through when everything else was sealed away."
Elijah, always the observer, studied her carefully. "You're not… bound to anything? No magic holding you here?"
Esther looked down at her hands, almost uncertain. "I feel… different."
Freya finally spoke, her voice tight. "That's not an answer."
Kol scoffed. "Oh, lovely. More cryptic nonsense." He rubbed his temples. "I need another drink."
Henrik shifted uncomfortably. "So what? Are you alive? A ghost? Something else?"
Esther exhaled. "I wish I could tell you."
The tension in the room was thick. No one moved.
Then—
Klaus chuckled. Low, dangerous. "Well, mother. If you're here, I do hope you're not planning something troublesome."
Esther held his gaze. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
The flames flickered.
And outside, the wind howled.