---
The Garden Witch
The French Quarter simmered with tension. The witches had grown bold since Elijah's disappearance. And in the heart of the Garden District, hidden in a crumbling greenhouse twisted with vines and sigils, lived a name Elijah had not forgotten:
Seraphine Thorne – blood alchemist, hybrid of witch and vampire, born of dark experiments predating the French arrival in Louisiana.
Centuries ago, Elijah had spared her.
Now, she was killing again.
Four witches in the Ninth Ward were found with their blood siphoned, their magic rituals stolen and rewritten in blood ink across the cemetery gates. The markings were meant to mock the ancestors… and bait Elijah.
It worked.
---
Midnight Confrontation
He found her just after midnight. The greenhouse pulsed with arcane heat. Inside, Seraphine stood over a cauldron filled with blood and burning bones, muttering in Sumerian.
"I wondered when you'd show," she said, without turning.
"You're playing with ancestral magic and forbidden vampirism. That's a cocktail even you shouldn't sip."
She smiled. "But it tastes divine."
Seraphine turned, her eyes now solid crimson. Her skin shimmered with protective glyphs.
"I remember when you were noble," she said. "But now… you stink of something older. Something wrong."
Elijah stepped forward. "You're a blight on this city. And you know I don't leave infections untreated."
"Then try."
---
The Duel
The air split with a pulse of energy.
Seraphine raised her hands, vines shooting from the walls, tipped with poisoned thorns. Elijah raised a hand and siphoned the energy midair, reducing the vines to dust before they touched him.
She vanished—teleportation sigil.
He anticipated it, reappearing behind her, grabbing her throat mid-spell.
She choked. "How… you shouldn't be able to…"
"You're out of your depth."
She slashed his chest with a dagger dipped in hellfire blood.
It sizzled.
He didn't flinch.
Then Elijah's power surged—a mixture of werewolf force and ancient witchcraft. The runes in the air began bending toward him, drawn to his raw tribrid presence. The very magic in the room obeyed him.
He reached into her chest—not physically, but with a magical siphon—and ripped the curse fragment binding her to the ancestral plane.
She collapsed.
He looked down at her, face unreadable. "This is mercy. The next time I see you, you'll beg for death."
---
Klaus Senses Something
Elsewhere in the city, Klaus jerked upright in his studio.
A pulse of power had shaken the French Quarter.
Something primal. Something... Mikaelson.
He snarled. "Elijah."
But he dismissed the thought.
> Elijah would never hide from me.
Still, a seed of doubt festered.
---
Rebekah's Plea
Rebekah found Elijah later that night, his hands stained with ritual ash, his suit torn but pristine once more.
"You're reckless," she said, eyes tight with worry.
"I'm precise."
"You're not telling me everything."
"I never said I would."
Rebekah grabbed his hand. "Do you even remember how to be part of this family?"
He hesitated.
Then, quietly: "I remember everything. But remembering… isn't the same as belonging."
She stepped back, hurt blooming in her eyes.
Elijah's voice softened. "One day, Rebekah, I will return—not in shadow, but beside you. But not yet."
---
The Council Moves
Across town, in a candlelit mansion once abandoned, a secret council gathered.
Vampires. Witches. One lone werewolf alpha.
Their goal? Remove Klaus.
Their fear? The return of Elijah.
They knew whispers. A shadow moving through the streets. A power too potent to be explained by blood alone.
"He is no longer Original," the witch warned. "He is something… primal."
They planned an ambush.
But Elijah had already infiltrated them.
---
The Black Door
Beneath the floorboards of the mansion, Elijah found The Black Door — an ancient artifact he thought lost during the 13th century. It was created by Norse witches to lock away spiritual corruption.
The Council had been using it to try binding the ancestral plane to their will. It was a ticking bomb.
He placed his palm on the door.
> "What you bind in shadow, I sever in light."
The runes unraveled. The spiritual prison shattered.
The Council's advantage… was gone.
---
Flashback – Becoming the Tribrid
Years ago, Elijah had stood in the Eye of the Hollow — a magical nexus in Iceland where ley lines converged. There, guided by an ancient being known only as The Whisperer, he completed his transformation.
To become a tribrid wasn't just biological.
It was existential.
He had to renounce vengeance.
Abandon fear.
Embrace restraint.
The power had nearly torn him apart. But he held on — because of them: Klaus, Rebekah, even Kol. Because someday, they would need more than an Original.
They would need something more.
---
Back in New Orleans
Elijah stood atop the Mississippi River Bridge, staring down at the waters below.
He spoke into the wind.
> "You still burn for power, Niklaus. Still rage like a star collapsing. But stars die alone."
He turned his gaze toward the French Quarter.
> "I will not let you fall. Not yet."
From the shadows, he vanished once more.
---
End of Part 2
Coming next in Part 3:
Klaus and Marcel's conflict escalates.
A dangerous vampire seer arrives, claiming to know Elijah's true identity.
Elijah is forced to reveal a fraction of his tribrid strength—to save Hayley.
And the first true crack in his mask appears.