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Chapter Text

Hope Mikaelson lost her family to Hollowness and Chaos.

The Hollow came first, when Hope was still young. It was strong, deadly, and persistent. It stayed and stayed, devouring all the happiness it could find. 

But Hope always felt a presence, half light and half darkness, trying to protect her and her family. 

When Hayley died, Hope felt the wayward spirit comfort her—or at least, it tried to. But when Klaus and Elijah lost their lives to end the Hollow, Hope heard the spirit scream. Its pain was louder than hers, and angrier; as though their deaths took away the last pieces of the creature’s heart. 

Hope never questioned why it was there with her. She always assumed it was a guardian angel. Even when she was already too young and too hardened to believe in such things, Hope always held the belief the spirit was there to protect her.

However, she did screamed at it. After her parents died, she begged and begged, for the first time, with all her strength for it to save them. The spirit cried with her when she fell to her knees, sobs cutting her breath. Still, it was quiet. There was nothing it could do, and she knew it. 

Although tragedy was all around her, Hope could see light. She still had a family—even without her parents, she had aunts and an uncle—, and she had friends. 

Then the Chaos came to kill the stars the Hollow left behind.

The Chaos was not as patient as The Hollow had been, but it was twice as deadly.  And as sure as Hell is cold, by every God on Earth, Chaos was loud. 

Though, perhaps most of all, it was fast.

Six weeks. That was how long the Mikaelsons survived The Chaos. Mere six weeks and they were gone.

It took Davina and Keelin first. Like a sickness, it devoured them. 

Kol and Marcel stood by Davina, begging every God whose name they could remember for mercy. But no God listened to them. Freya worked nonstop, blurting out spells, desperately searching through her books. Looking for an answer and praying for a miracle. It was no use. 

Their magic was not enough. They could do nothing against the ever-hungry Chaos. 

Hope was almost glad when the sickness came for Kol and Freya. At least then they would not feel the loss of their beloveds. Marcel and Rebekah held hands as Chaos devoured their hearts, and until their dying breaths, they never let go.

Marcel begged the Gods to take him first, and for once they were kind enough to grant his wish. 

Hope watched as Chaos had its way with her family. She yelled at her guardian angel once again, begging for help. It screamed and screamed until it fell to its knees. But it too was powerless against such a Beast. 

The light went out for the last three Mikaelsons. Hope laid them all side by side. And Chaos laughed and danced through the skies. 

At last, Hope was alone. Her weary feet brought her to the Salvatore Boardinghouse, but she found it too was gone. Chaos burned it down to bitter ash.

Her Wayward Spirit was the only survivor of Chaos. For the third time, Hope Mikaelson begged it to save her loved ones. And for the third time, it was as powerless as her.

But it could whisper. For the first time, it talked to her. With tender words, it told her of a place, magical and ancient, full of powers fit for Gods. 

“The Walking Cave,”  the spirit muttered in her ear, “The Sword of Fate and The Cup of Pain.”  Its voice was sweet and so very week, Hope had to lean in, drowning with every word. “Find the monster hidden in such a place. It will save them, if you ask…”

Wrapping her hand around her pendant, Hope began the strange spell. She chose her monster: The Destroyer. He would lead her to The Cave.

“But you cannot trust his mask.” The spirit went on as flames surrounded her. “Be warned of the Devil and The Goddess. They will destroy you if they have a chance.”

“But most of all, be brave, my darling girl!” The voice screamed, desperate to save Hope one last time.

Hope felt the floor dissolving underneath her feet. Darkness devoured her as she fell and fell. In her way,  she even passed through Hell, catching a few more wayward souls.

Yet she knew Chaos and Hollowness would wait for her when she arrived at her chosen time. 

This time, however, Hope Mikaelson would be ready for both of them. 

She swore to get her family back, no matter the cost. If she has to lose her soul and watch the world burn to do it, then so be it. 

Always and Forever will not be forgotten so easily. 

Chapter Text

It was a never ending Fall....until it ended...

Hope thought she would come out the other end a thousand years older. Or worse: she was afraid the Fall would never end.

"Is this how the Devil felt?" Hope whispered to herself. "Is this how Mikael felt when he fell?"

It was an intrusive thought. It could not possibly mean anything.

"Mikael is not the Devil," Hope reminded her weary heart. "He is a monster, but he is human... right?"

She shook her head, panting. The darkness surrounding her was more than suffocating.

Mikael is not the Devil. She repeated, her lips trembling.

With a shocked gasp, Hope tried to force air into her lungs, only to realize there was no more air left around her.

Mikael is not the Devil... is he?

The darkness was narrowing around her. Soon, it would devour her essence. There would be nothing left.

It is a trap. The voice of reason screamed in Hope's head, and for an agonizing moment, she wondered where the fuck that voice had been when she started the spell.

The Fall lasted for eternity.... until even eternity ended and Hope fell face down on a pile of leaves and mud. Holding her breath, too afraid to let the air slip out again, she raised her head. It took her a second to adjust to the blinding light of the shy sunlight.

Hope Mikaelson's Fall from Grace had her landing on forest. Around her, the trees were as tall as skyscrapers, with roots as big as cars jumping in and out of the muddy red soil. The air was as quiet as death. Yet, Hope could feel a thousand eyes fixed on her. She was not alone.

"Hope?" Her father's trembling voice startled her.

"Dad?" Hope cried, turning around and rushing into her father's arms.

Klaus, with a hollow sob stuck in his throat, opened his arms to hold her... but with a sinking realization which hurt more than death, Klaus found he could not touch his daughter. As his arms flew around Hope, they passed through her body. He was nothing more than air, a soul without a body, utterly unable to hug his child, who sobbed desolately in front of him.

"I don't understand..." Hope whispered, stepping back and cleaning her tears. "The spell worked, didn't it?" She asked, turning around in search of her aunt Freya.

"I—I don't know...." Freya whispered, a smile shaping her lips. The happiness of seeing all her siblings again overwhelmed her. "What kind of spell did you do?" Freya asked, frowning and looking around briefly.

"I..." Hope sighed, the words dying inside her mouth. She had told no one about her Guardian. Hope mentioned him to her mother, but he sounded so much like an imaginary friend, Hayley hardly minded. Now, however, it was a completely different story. The spirit had given Hope instructions for the spell. She should remember them, and yet... Her Guardian's presence had diminished with the Fall. Now, with the ghosts of her dead family surrounding her, Hope could no longer hear or fell him.

"Give me a minute." Hope said, turning around, expecting to find at least some sign of the spell she had performed. Holding back a sob, she realized she had never felt more alone.

Freya nodded, a small smile on her lips. She had jumped to hug her brothers, and, unlike Hope, Freya could easily wrap her arms around Finn. Rebekah had quickly done the same for Kol, and soon all four of them had their arms around each other, even pulling Klaus into the collective hug.

Hope envied them. Yet she was not the only one left out. Elijah stood paralyzed, his eyes fixed on the young boy his siblings seemed to not have noticed yet. Hope followed his gaze, gasping as her eyes met the boy.

"Elijah?" the shy voice made all the Mikaelsons jerk awake from their strange dream.

"Henrik?" Elijah whispered, tears running down his face as the boy, no older than twelve years old, rushed into his arms.

The rest of his sibling soon ran to them, each one more desperate to hug little Henrik, to make sure he was real. Even Freya, who had never met her youngest brother, stepped forward and hugged him, introducing herself shyly.

Hope watched them, her heart rattling in her chest like a wild creature. She wrapped her hand around her necklace, which had belonged to her Auntie Bex before she passed it down to her. Gasping, while happy tears mapped her face. Hope could feel her family's souls within the pendant. The Mikaelsons by blood were the only one Hope could see, but within the jewel there were more souls, which clung desperately to the Mikaelsons.

Hope found Marcel's soul intertwined with Rebekah's. Uncle Elijah's essence and Hayley's held on to each other for dear life. Kol's and Davina's hands were clasped together, as though they could only exist fully near each other. The souls of her aunt Keelin and Freya seemed to dance around each other, the three days during which death did them part were far too long. Klaus had run to meet his family, but first, he said hello to an old friend, Cami, and in the end, he forgot to leave. Finn and Henrik dwelled around their siblings in the afterlife, trying to somehow protected their family from what was to come....

"They are all here." Hope muttered to herself, her eyes tearing up as she saw Finn raise Henrik into the air. "They will all be fine. We will all be together again..."

If I can bring them back to life. Her inner voice so wisely reminded her.

Trying to remember the details of spell she had use, Hope strolled away from her family. Her mind doing acrobatics as she desperately searched for meaning in the Spirit's last words:

"The Walking Cave," the spirit had muttered in her ear, "The Sword of Fate and The Cup of Pain." Its voice was sweet and so very week, Hope had to lean in, drowning with every word. "Find the monster hidden in such a place. It will save them, if you ask..."

She had chosen the Destroyer. With all the few and terrible stories her father and uncles had told her, Hope knew Mikael was the perfect monster. His monstrosity was unquestionable, considering all the awfulness he had put her father through. For that alone, Hope wished she could at least get the chance to punch him. Yet, she also knew she could easily convince Mikael to help them. If her mission was only to bring her father and mother back, of course, getting Mikael to help would be impossible. But since all his children's lives were at stake, Hope was more than certain she could persuade him. Besides, with her aunt Freya's help, it would be a straightforward task.

Now... the strange prophecy was the trouble. Hope doubted anyone in her family knew what kind of person Mikael was before he became a father. What if Mikael did not know what the hell the prophecy meant? Or worse, what if Mikael did not even care about his future children? There were a thousand ways her plan could go wrong, a million ways for Hope to write her family and herself out of existence...

In her distraction, she had walked further away than she intended. Hope turned back to her family. Their happiness, their pure excitement at seeing each other again, warmed her heart. Ironically, it gave her hope. I can save the Mikaelsons, she thought, a smile shaping her lips. Hope stood there a moment longer, her mind traveling to happier ideas, memories, possibilities for the future life she would have with her family. When it was all said and done, they would be happy.

She stood there a moment too long.

The Creature was quiet. More deathly quiet than the cursed florets itself. But then again, monsters usually are skilled in the art of silence. The creature had smelled her since before her Fall. It crawled around, lucking in the shadow of the trees, waiting. It could have waited for a thousand years, and perhaps it had. Around it, time was pointless.

 When the Beast ran, fast and straight as an arrow, his body was still and silent, as though he had simply let the wind carry him to strike down his prey.

The hollow and pitiful scream startled Hope.

Holding her breath, she turned around. Hope had to swallow her fear and disgust when her eyes meet the body of the gigantic snake as it shirked and bleed all around the muddy floor. Its monstrous head, with its mouth wide open showing rolls after rolls of red teeth, had fallen just a few centimeters from Hope's feet. Pressing her lips together to avoid breathing the smell of death, Hope raised her gaze to see the creature who had saved her from the attack of the snake.

It was a boy. No older than 10 years of age, with golden blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was beautiful, terrifyingly unhuman and beautiful. Taking in his appearance for a moment, Hope soon realized his face and half naked body were covered with unworldly scars, bruises and blood. In his hand, he held on to a small knife. If Hope had seen him at any other moment of her life, she would have laughed at the thought of a child this small, with a knife that small, killing a monster so awful as the snake laying in front of her. But Hope had long passed the time of caring about logical answer for magical questions.

The Boy had pieces of white cloth—all stained with blood and so more red than white—wrapped around some of his wounds on his torso, arms, legs and face. The most noticeable of with hanged over the Boy's right eye, as though it was supposed to macabrely combine an eyepatch and a hair band. It would have been the perfect combination for a bad Halloween costume, if he was not real. If the symbols carved into his skin did not ignite a strange and primordial fear in Hope's heart.

She could not understand such symbols, but she could feel it in her bones: they prophesied a fate far worse than death.

"You are not supposed to be here." The little boy said, his voice sweet and solemn. But he spoke in a strange tongue. Hope was sure she should not have understood. His eyes swept around them, alert and fierce. His shoulders were tense, his body so still he flinched at the slightest sounds of the forest.

"I—I..." she began, her mouth dry as fear and hope clawed in her chest. "My family." She tried again, turning back only to realize the ghosts of her dead family member were no longer there. Gasping, Hope held on to her necklace, her soul shrinking with desperation.

"You should not be here." the boy said, his eyes flickering with a sickening mixture of fear and determination. He stepped forward, and taking Hope's free hand into his own, said, in the softest voice Hope had ever heard: "You will see your ghosts again." he nodded to her necklace, before looking over his shoulder. "But you need to keep going." he added, the kindest smile playing on his lips as his eyes quietly begged her to follow him.

A thousand and one questions burned her mind as Hope let the boy guide her through the trunks of the ridiculously tall trees. The main one, of course, was: Is this Boy the monster the spirit sent her to find?

"Can this small, sweet-looking and kind child truly be The Destroyer?" Hope thought as she stared at the back of his head. "Of course this is him." A bitter voice whispered from within her. Of course "The Monster Who All Monsters Fear" was born a wide-eyed, sweet boy who probably had the worst childhood ever. What else could Mikael look like as a kid? He had to be this beat down, sweet and scared little boy, putting on a confident facade to keep away the monsters. He had to be covered in blood and scars, with the strange light in his eyes and a tender smile on his lips. "If the Destroyer was not miserable..." Hope pondered, biting her lower lip to hold down tears. "The story would never make sense..."

Sadly, Hope never had the chance to ask the Boy about her theory. When she came back to reality, they had reached a clearing. The trees had grown smaller and smaller as they left the center of the forest. Now, the dark and muddy floor was far behind them. With light grass fields on either side, they marched to the edge of the cliff. Just beyond the edge, the stone walls of the cliff ran down to meet the raging dark blue waters of the unforgiving sea.

"Here." The boy said, guiding her to where one false step could lead to a new fall, this time into ice water. "You need to go before they find you." The boy said, squeezing her hand, a desperate smile playing on his lips while his blue eyes still shined with a barely hidden fear and pain.

"What? Go where?" Hope said, stepping forward. Looking down at the raging water, she saw the sea opening into a spiral just below them: a portal.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Hope yelled over the loud singing of the wind as she turned to face the boy again.

He grinned and kissed her hand. "I am the Destroyer. Son of the Goddess of Order and the God of Chaos." he said, raising his chin, his voice as sweet as death. "And it is a pleasure to meet—."

An unearthly hollow screamed echoed through the clearing, breaking off his voice. The shriek rattled the trees of the forest and shook the ground underneath them.

Hope leaned down, covering her ears. Her heart drumming desperately. The sound still echoing through her bones was ancient, powerful and cruel. The annoying voice of reason bitterly reminded Hope of the fact the Boy and the snake were surely not the only monsters in this Hell she jumped into.

Gazing up, her eyes found the boy again. He had fallen to his knees, grunting in pain and clutching his hand to the fresh wound which had magically appeared across his chest. The Boy bit his lip until blood stained his teeth. He held back a scream, swallowing his tears.

"Who is doing this to you?" she asked, her chest aching with worry and fear. Hope jumped forward, softly touching his shoulder.

The Boy flinched at her touch. "My parents." He said, his face expressionless and his gaze fixed on the horizon behind Hope. "They not not like when I wonder too far from home..." he added, chuckling bitterly as Hope helped him get back to his feet. "They are powerful. And they will kill you if they find you here..."

"Why?" Hope said, exasperated, waving her hands. The realization she had thrown herself into a mission with only half a plan and little to no knowledge of the additional dangers she could encounter along her path sank in slowly...The fear, the doubt... It was suffocating. "Why the fuck would your parents want to fucking kill me?" she blurted out.

The Boy raised an eyebrow, grinning softly. "This is their Island. No human is allowed here...." he said, his voice solemn and his eyes wide with awe. "But I suppose you are not very human...are you?" he asked, curiosity poisoning his sweet voice.

"Well..." Hope shrugged, raising her chin. "I suppose I'm... a miracle baby... kinda..." she scoffed, smiling back at the Boy. "So I'm not that human..."

The Boy laughed, his eyes flickering with delight. "Neither am I..." he said, smiling brightly. "I am a Child of the Gods..." he added with a shy pride as a dark shadow passed over his eyes.

"Right." Hope stared blankly at him, her mind racing back to the Spirit's strange riddle. Did it say anything about the Child of Gods?

"Are you Auntie Amara's child?" the boy blurted out, reaching for her hands again. "Did Auntie Qetsiyah finally finish the spell while I was away? Are you their daughter?" the words jumped out of his mouth faster than lighting, and, for the first time since she met him, the Boy sounded like an actual child.

"What?" she whispered, the names the boy had said ringing in her ears. Where had she heard them before? "No, no. I'm not their daughter... I'm sorry." She added, her heart breaking slightly with the disappointment which washed over his face. "My name is Hope Mikaelson and I'm looking for--."

Hope's voice ended up muffled by the monsters' sound. Another hollow scream cut through the air.

Fear running through her veins, Hope glanced down at the Boy. Another wound had appeared on his chest. He looked down, trying to hide the tears mapping his face.

With a desperate sob stuck in her throat, Hope realized the cuts on his chest were forming a word. It was written in a language she could not understand, and yet its meaning was strangely clear: Destroyer.

Gasping in horror, Hope stepped back. "If this boy isn't Mikael...," She thought bitterly,"who the fuck is he?" feeling the air slip away from her lungs, Hope glance back at the forest. "And where in hell is Mikael?"

"Go. Now!" The Boy yelled, grabbing her wrists. Fear and pain contorted his face. "Please! "he begged, his sweet voice full of rage and desperation. "I don't want you to die..." he muttered, sniffing as tears mapped his face.

"But..." Hope held on to her necklace with one hand, and to the Boy's shoulder with another.

"You will see your ghosts again." The Boy blurted out, smiling softly. "Please..." he begged again, his lips trembling as he looked over his shoulder.

"Alright..." Hope nodded softly, squeezing his shoulder one last time before she let go.

How could she not do what the Boy asked when he begged her, when he was so desperate to save her from his monsters.... It reminded Hope of Klaus....

Hope Mikaelson let herself fall once again. This time into the raging water of the sea, which spiraled around to meet her.... She could still feel the Boy's piercing and kind gaze. The spirit was gone. Her ghosts, her family were stuck somewhere within her necklace... perhaps she could reach them, some day.

For now, she fell again. It will be a shorter Fall this time, a kind voice whispered in her ear. But Hope was not sure she believed him.

In her first Fall, Hope Mikaelson was afraid and desperate. Now, on top of everything else, she is boiling with the rage she so desperately tried to avoid...

If she cannot save her family, she will at least destroy the beast who caused them so much pain...

So, as usual, she threw herself head first to meet whatever Fate had in store for her....

With her head held high and her hand around her necklace, Hope fell into the depths of a new abyss which had the familiar taste of tragedy. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

***

Athens, Ancient Greece. 430 B. C.

Her feet hit the muddy ground with a soft sound. Hope held her breath as she slowly opened her eyes. She expected to be surrounded by another forest, filled with more terrifying monsters…

Instead, a large city appeared around her. The small stone houses spread in an unorganized fashion, making the narrow and irregular streets covered in mud seem even more suffocating. Animals and hungry children walked around, playing and throwing mud at whoever was distracted enough to walk too close to them. All the men Hope could see used tonics and leather sandals, and the few women wore very simple, but colorful dresses.

With her heart beating loudly in her ears, Hope rushed through the narrow streets, moving North until she found a large market square. There, her eyes met dozens of small tents with vendors selling goods. The square was surrounded by tall houses, and trees. The floor was covered in stone and a dozen statues rose around three large water fountains. To the North, a small hill  towered above the city. At the top of the hill stood the mighty Acropolis, the crown jewel of Ancient Athens.

Hope strolled to the center fountain, sitting beside it. Trying to calm her heart, she realized with relived horror that she could understand what the people around her were saying. She even knew what language they were speaking: Ancient Greek. Although listening to people point out how her clothes (blue jeans and a red t-shirt) looked odd and inappropriate didn’t really help to calm her nerves. She had learned about the Greek myths and legends when she was young, and even about the history of the Ancient Greek cities. But no amounts of watching historical movies, or reading books or staring aimlessly at maps in her text books could have prepared her for the sight for this strange and ancient world, alive and real around her.

How in the name of hell did she end up in Ancient Greece? And How would she find Mikael in a city as big as Athens?

With a another dozen questions burning in her mind, she almost allowed her hand to fall into the clear waters of the fountain, but she pulled her hand away quickly. Fear crawling around in her chest, as though trying to tell her that all water could send her to yet a new world. Although, in light of all her other questions, the mechanics of how she ended up in Ancient Greece would have to wait. She had worse issues to fix.

Before Hope could restart her brain to find answers to her new problems, all the solutions just fell on her lap when a young boy came running her way.

 He was the same boy she saw on the Island, only couple years older, with less scars and wearing a dark blue tonic. The boy sat next to her, on the stone floor, hiding behind the fountain.

"Hi." Hope said breathlessly, a smile shaping her lips as the boy raised his gaze to meet hers. "Do you remember me?"

“No. I don’t.” The boy said, with a frown. “But, hello. I shall not forget you now.” He smiled, still catching his breath. “Your clothes are very odd. It will be hard to forget you.” He added, not a trace of malice in his voice.

“I–.” Hope protested, but once again she could not wrap he mind around his childishness. Monsters aren't supposed to be this adorable.

 ‘Is this sweet little boy really going to become a monster?’ The thought lingered on her mind. Hope knew she should focus on her mission, she knew she could just brush off his kindness and sweetness as being the results of childish naivety. In the Island it was (somewhat) easier to see him as a weapon and not a child. There he behaved as a hunter, a warrior. But here, in the city’s square, as he stared at her with his big blue eyes, panting from his run and tapping his bare feet on the stone floor…how could she pretend he was not a child?

“The clothes are nice.” Mikael said, his cheeks burning red as he turned away from her.

Hope had been staring at him in silence for far too long, lost in her thoughts. Under her gaze, he had grown shy and afraid, just as little kids often do.

“I didn’t mean to offend. They are just… different.” He smiled at her, his smile as sweet as spring, before he looked over his shoulder. His eager eyes swept through the crowded square, wearily looking for something.

In her chest, Hope’s heart twisted into a tight knot. Were his parents there? Looking for him, hunting him down like wild beasts? And, worse, what would she do if she saw the Hollow strolling to fetch her son? Hope had no weapons at hand, apart from Mikael himself, who might have one or two knives with him. But even if she could attack the Hollow then and there, would she have the courage, and the reckless heart, to actually do it? She did not like to think of herself as impulsive or stupid. Attacking Hollow out in the open, with no plan and no weapons would qualify Hope Mikaelson as both. But, what would be the alternative--if Hollow did show up in the square to take Mikael? Should Hope stand back, watching Inadu do only Gods' know what to the scared little boy sitting beside her? It would be the smart thing to do, of course, especially in her situation. But it would also be heartless and cruel. And what would it say of Hope's soul then?

Holding her breath, she glanced around, but was too afraid to take her eyes off Mikael for too long. He seemed like the kind of boy who was far too good at disappearing. Sighing in relief, she studied his posture more closely.  Hope could not feel Hollow's familiar presence, and little Mikael did not look as terrified as he had been in the Island. His worried eyes still held mischievous light, as though he was simply playing a very serious game of hide and seek.

“It’s alright…You didn’t offend me.” Hope said, finally finding her voice again. “So, you are the Destroyer?” she asked, smiling softly to hide her anxiousness.

The boy jolted and turned back to face her. His wide eyes and trembling lips were not a good sign. Even his breathing had changed. He was as still as the stone statues, his gaze cutting through her soul as he stared at her.

“Only my mother and father call me that…” he said, fear dripping from his words like a poison burning his lips.

“I’m sorry…” Hope babbled, her heart racing in her chest. “I didn’t mean to—.”

“There he is!!” The scream of a man rang through the square. He and two more men came rushing through the crowd---all three of them were tall merchants with large shoulders and dressed in dark brown tunics. Their eyes shined with bright rage; their feet stomped the ground as though they were a group of angry bulls let lose on the city's streets and their empty hands reached forward like hungry claws, ready to peal the skin off the backs of  little thieves who dared steal from them.

Mothers grabbed their children, pulling them away from the path of the three men, in fear their little ones would be hurt in the confusion. All in the square held their breathes in anticipation. Their eager eyes grew hungry for blood as they too searched for the thief. No one smiled, but their drummed the same happy rhythm of a execution march. Everyone loved to see a thief beaten in the public square. No matter how young, or sweet, the thief was.

“I have to go.” The boy said calmly as he jumped to his feet. Mikael picked up his small package, which he held close to his chest.

"What did you steal?" Hope asked, a dozen possible options flashing through her mind. If she had to guess, she would have said something along the lines of knives or money. If she had guessed, she would have been wrong.

Mikael turned to her, a grin on his lips as he winked and lowered his package for her to see its contents. A small piece of bread and a apple. That was all the Great Destroyer had stolen.

"Did the Hollow not feed her own son?" Was Hope's first thought. But her second thought was far darker, "Only starving children steal..." She looked up from the package, staring at him with her mouth open. His sweet smile burning a whole in her heart. "If they catch him..." her mind was not cruel enough to finish the thought.

 “Goodbye!” Mikael said, with a short courtesy. Then his eyes fell on hers, seeing her worry, and his face grew heavy and sober, as though he tried to reassure her of his maturity before he ran away. He looked much older, as old as he had looked in the Island--which is to say, as old as miserable children can look when they let a glimpse of their sadness show.

But, then, when he waved his hand, smiling brightly as he ran, the three angry men chasing him out of the square. Then...he looked like a regular child, playing in the park.

“Wait!” Hope called, shaking her thoughts away. She jumped up, running after the men who were chasing Mikael. The Destroyer himself was too small for her to see among the crowed. But she trusted the three tall angry-looking men could see him.

She followed into the suffocating narrow streets, with her lungs burning and her shoes almost getting stuck in the mud more than once. In her desperation not to lose them, Hope ran into a cart, hitting her head and cutting her arm in a piece of broken wood. She heard the owner of the cart shout something at her. She paid him no attention, moving out of the way as her eyes search for Mikael.  Clinging to her bleeding arm, she watched him turn left and slip into a even narrower street, with the three men still chasing him. Hope bit her trembling lip, panting as her wobbly legs slowly followed them.

The turn lead to a alleyway. Hope leaned against a wall, catching her breath and trying to get her head to work again. Her mind was scrambled from the hit she took, so she did not even bother to remember a spell to stop the men from getting to Mikael. He seemed cleaver and fast enough to outsmart them. Her only issue would be to be able to follow him herself later, and for that, Hope thought, she would need to catch her breath. So she did nothing, only watched, trying to regain her strength.

Mikael ran through the alley, jumping over wooden boxes thrown away by vendors. He was much faster and more agile than the three men chasing him. But they were taller, and stronger. The boy had almost reached the roof of the house in the back of the alley when one of the man grabbed his ankle and pulled him to the ground.

Mikael let out a grunt when fell on his back. He jumped up, but the two other men were waiting for him. They grabbed his arms. Mikael struggled, twisting his small body to get out of their grip.

"Well, well, aren't you a feisty little thing?" The man who grabbed Mikael by the ankle said, strolling towards them.

With a sick smile, he watched as his friends held the boy down. The man averted Mikael's leg when he tried to kick him, and returned the hostility by punching Mikael's stomach. Mikael grunted, leaning forward and almost falling. But the men held him in place.

Hope blinked, cursing her mind for not working fast enough for her to put a stop to it. As she tried to think of a spell, Hope Mikaelson realized with a primal horror that her magic was not the same as it was when she left her own time. Even if she had been able to remember a spell, her power appeared to be only a fraction of what it had been.

"And he's pretty too, isn't he?" one of the man holding Mikael said, the rage in his eyes turning into something far more terrifying. 

"Aye. He is..." the other said. "We could teach him a lesson before taking him back to the square..." he said, his voice was almost innocent as he stroke Mikael's cheek.

With a swift move of his head, Mikael bit the man's fingers. The man screamed, held on to Mikael's arm, throwing a look to the man with free hands, who had punched the boy before. A soft chuckle left his lips as the man carved his fist into Mikael's stomach again.

 "You should really learn," the man said, wrapping his hand around Mikael's neck. "There are other was to pay for food. If we had know you had no gold..." he smiled, "Well, we would have let you pay us some other way..."

"We can teach him then," Said another man, "There's no reason we shouldn't get paid now and teach him a lesson in one go..."

Mikael shivered, glancing up at the man. His eyes burning with more rage than fear.

"You already know the lesson, don't you boy?" The man asked, letting go of Mikael's neck. "Someone's taught you already, did they?" he chuckled, the others laughing. "Well, that's better I suppose. You'll be better that it." he smile, undoing his belt and loosely wrapping it around one of his hands. "We won't leave too many marks, so long as you behave." he said, reaching into his pants with his free hand. "Understood?"

The boy held their gaze, but he shivered. Perhaps Mikael understand it all too well, or perhaps he knew nothing about it…. Either way, the look he gave them, the way his lips trembled…it broke Hope’s heart. He was just a scared child, after all, trying desperately to look stronger than he knew himself to be.

"Stop!" She heard herself yell at the scene unfolding in front to her eyes.

Her scream sent a blast to magic in their direction, shaking the ground and making the men lose their balance.

Swallowing her fears, she prepared to step into the scene. She had been hidden so far, and the man had not yet seen her. All Hope she needed was another second to catch her breath and jump into the fight.

But she did not have a second.

Once the men's grip around Mikael's arms was loosened, no god could have saved them.

Mikael moved like the lighting in a bottle that had just been freed and wanted only burn the bottle which once held it prisoner.

Hope had been right about Mikael carrying knives with him. But she was a bit surprised when he chose to use his fists more often than the knives.

The all three men tried to fight back, of course they did. No matter what kind of god they believed in, being killed by a scrawny 12 year-old would be humiliating in any afterlife. But there was no use in fighting. Mikael was not called the Destroyer simply for the aesthetics of it. Their screams were agonizing, especially when they realized they would not win, and begged for some kind of mercy. One of them even tried to run away, pointing at Mikael and screaming “Monster, monster!”. But no one can outrun the Destroyer, unless he allowed them, of course, but Mikael did not seem to be in the right mood for it.

Hope paid little attention to their screams. Anyone who would even think about hurting a child, especially in such a twisted way, did not deserve Hope's compassion. She was only worried about Mikael going on a murderous rampage through the square. His eyes shined with a strange type of rage. Hope could not quite understand it, but she knew he was the kind of monster who could burn down the entire city, if he was ever let loose.

It was then, Hope realized for the first time: “The Hollow and the Chaos must keep Mikael in some type of leash. It’s the only way they can keep him from destroying everything…including them.”

Mikael was almost as fast as a vampire. His punches and kicks were strong and precise. He jumped around the men as though he was dancing, or playing in a trampoline. But he did not smile, not once. Not until the end, when he stood above their fallen bodies, their blood dripping from his face, fists and knives.  The three men laid dead or unconscious on the muddy ground choking on their own blood.

Hope watched Mikael for a moment longer, as he stood, panting, glancing around the alley, his fists ready for more. He was so still, so angry and scared. She couldn't say he looked like a cornered animal, because he looked too much like a little child. But he had so much blood surrounding him; on his face, his clothes, his legs, his feet, on the ground where he stood, on the gray walls of the houses around him. There, with so much blood and pain kissing him, burning the naivety out of him, Mikael could never look like a child. Yet he did. With his tearful eyes and red cheeks burning with shame as he stared at the bodies, Mikael had never looked more like a child.

Once the men had stopped moving, Hope walked away from the wall she was leaning on.

“Are you alright?” She took small steps towards Mikael, trying not to startle him. Unfortunately, she failed.

“Don’t come any closer!” Mikael said, his voice weaker with every word, turning to face her. “You…” he whispered, and his heart seemed to break a little at the sight of her.

“It’s alright.” Hope said, her own voice not much stronger than his. "I won't hurt you."

"I'm not afraid of you..." he said, holding back a grunt and raising his chin.

Only then Hope saw that Mikael had not won the fight unharmed. He still held on to his knives, but he had one arm wrapped around his stomach, holding on to his waist as though letting go of it would mean falling apart.

"Its that's ok, though. After...you know, after what just happened... it's alright to be scared..." Hope said as sweetly she could, and tried to smile. Even a monster like Mikael deserved a few kind words after he was almost raped.

"I am the Destroyer." he said, bitterness dripping from his words. "I cannot be afraid of anything." With his dreadful eyes fixed on her, Mikael did not look like a child.

"Right." Hope scoffed, stepping back. "Well, maybe not... But you did look pretty scared to me." she said,  raising her chin and holding his gaze as though daring him to lie about his fears again. She held her hurt arm close to her body, her head dizzy from, well, everything.

Under her gaze, his façade of confidence seemed to break. "How do you know my parents? How do you know my name?" he asked in a whisper, to afraid to raise his voice. "Did--did they sent you to--to--" whatever word he was looking for, he could not bring himself to say it.

"They didn't send me." Hope said promptly, stepping forward and making Mikael flinch. The last thing she wanted--or needed--was Mikael thinking she was Hollow's secretary--or executioner. "I know a lot about you." Hope said, measuring her words. Something told her Mikael would know if she lied to him directly. " I met you before, and I heard a lot about you..." she took another step, her heart drumming in her ears and her head growing dizzier. But he stared at her, curious and calm. "I know you are a child of gods, or whatever that's supposed to mean. And I know you--" she stepped forward, but her dizzy head played tricks on her and her legs gave in underneath her weight. She fell.

Mikael rushed towards her, gently touching her arm. "Are you hurt any where else?" he asked, kneeling down beside her. "Take a deep breathe." he said with a serious voice. His fingers reached for the cut on her arm.

Hope looked away and almost flinched, but soon a strange warmth took away all the pain. When she glanced again at her arm the cut was gone without even leaving a mark.

"How did you do that?" she asked, gazing at Mikael with her mouth half open.

"I suppose you don't know as much as you say you do...." he said, with a playful frown and smirk. "My name is Mikael. The name I wish you to use for me is Mika. Only my parents call me Mikael, and only people who fear my parents call me the Destroyer." He studied her face as he spoke. "You are neither, or so it seems. You said you know me. What is your name then?"

"Hope M--Marshall." she said, biting her lip. She had not lied, and the last she spoke to him she gave him her father's last name. But, maybe, it was safer to use her mother's from then on.

"That is a odd name." he said, frowning. "Pretty, but odd. I suppose you are odd then." he added, smiling. The lack of malice in his tone was beginning to be unsettling.

"You aren't all that normal yourself." Hope scoffed. She tried to smile back at him, since her tone had been more bitter than she intended.

Mikael did not seem to notice. "I suppose you are very right." He laughed, shrugging. "Well, Hope Marshall," he said, stretching his arms. "I can heal you because it is my gift as a child of gods."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Hope asked, sighing exasperated.

It was Mikael's turn to stare at her with his mouth half open. "Do you not have gods in the place where you came from?" he asked, narrowing his eyes to watch her. "Not even the ones who haven't Fallen?"

"No...I mean, yes?" she said, sighing. His question was so simple, yet made her head hurt. Did she know any real gods? "It's more complicated. They--I guess--they don't just walk around... Or have magical children...Well, not so often...nowadays..."

"I don't suppose there's many gods walking around here either..." he chuckled, "My parents, uncle and aunt are the only ones I've ever met... They are the only ones who have Fallen--that I know of, that is..." he raised his gaze to the gray sky, as though hoping to find a god's face hidden among the pale clouds. "As for magical children, as you called it," he pouted, looking down at the mud. "I believe I have the cruel honor of being the one and only..."

"The Hollow is a Fallen Goddess?" Hope asked without thinking. "I suppose that makes quite a lot of sense...considering the--everything--about her..." she had a dry laugh stuck in her throat. In her mind, a thousand questions burned through her memories of the Hollow like wild fire.

If she had been less dizzy, Hope would have minded her tongue, asking only what she thought was necessary. But she  was more than a little dizzy, and so the words jumped out of her mouth before she could catch them

"Do all gods have different powers? Or the same as yours? Who are the other Fallen Gods? How did the Hollow Fall? Why did any of them fall? How can the Hollow be your mother--I mean--God, what do I even mean with that?" she chuckled bitterly, her mouth dry and her hand running desperately through her hair.

Mikael had been staring at her quietly. His head tilted to the side as though he  was a puppy, waiting for his turn to bark.

"You ask a lot of questions..." he said with a frown. "But I suppose that is how you come about knowing so much about things, wasn't it?" he smiled, getting up and trying to beat the mud off his tunic. "I don't know all the answers. But my aunt Amara or aunt Tessa might know. They know a lot too, you see..." he reached for Hope's hand, helping her up.

"Thank you," she muttered numbly. Was there even any use in acknowledging how childish Mikael looked while he talked to her? It still astonished her, but there were other--more pressing--issues she had to fix. "Can you take me to them? Your aunts, I mean. So I may ask them about my questions?"

Mikael stared at her, smiling and frowning. His thoughts lost in a battle between excitement and fear. Hope held her breath, waiting for the results of this new fight.

"Yes..." he muttered, excitement seemed to have won. "But you must be very quiet. My parents and uncle mustn't know you are there, alright?" he said, fear ringing in his voice.

"Alright," Hope nodded. "I promise they will not hear a sound from me." she smiled, trying to match his excitement.

"Alright." Mikael said, giggling and barely able to refrain from jumping around. "Come!" he said, reaching again for her hand. She took his. "It's not very far. Come..."

The narrow streets unfolded in front of them once again. But this time it was not as suffocating. Maybe it was because she had a goal this time. Hope marched, hand in hand with little Mika, towards the truth. The lost--or perhaps hidden--truth about the Hollow's past, and, perhaps, the secret which would end the Goddess' reign of terror over the Mikaelsons before it even started.

No. This time the streets of ancient Athens seemed to shine with promise as Hope Mikaelson strolled to the Devil's den.

Chapter Text

***

Mikael’s tiny hand was so heavy. Or, at the very least, it weighed so much in Hope’s hand that it was as though she was carrying a mountain.

Holding his small hand, letting Mikael guide her once again through the narrow streets, was much worse than when she let him guide her on the Island. Then she was desperate, and he was a guiding light. Following him to the alleyway was also different. Mikael had been unaware of her then. Now, however, he talked to her, and everything was so much worse.

Mikael really liked to talk. He told Hope about some of his little adventures, pointing at pretty houses or statues. Mikael guided her happily. He still had wounds from his fight with the men in the alleyway, but his steps were light, even when they had to be careful. He took her through shortcuts, taking her up small hills and even over rooftops. Mikael would turn around from time to time, breathless and weary, as though he was afraid she would be gone or hurt if he kept his eyes away from her for too long.

“For a child,” Hope realized with a quiet sadness, “he is very caring and… paternal.” But she knew that would be beaten out of him so day soon.

When he found her behind him, with all her limbs and not as breathless as he was, Mikael smiled. It was the kindest smile Hope had ever seen, and it broke her heart into a thousand pieces.

Mikael also liked to make comments, especially when they passed exquisite sights on the streets or as they walked on the rooftops of tall houses. Hope laughed at his comments, though mostly because she could not stop thinking this version of Mikael would have been a great tourist guide.

Hope made a mental note to go back to Athens some day. “Maybe when everyone is together again”, she thought as Mikael gestured to a beautiful statue.

But not even all the beauty in the world could make his hand feel less heavy. The weight, of course, was not from Mikael, but from Hope’s consciousness.

Each step she took holding his hand took her closer to finding answers. But it also meant the time for her to make her choice was drawing nearer.

Hope knew what the Hollow would do to Mikael. She might not know the specifics—how, where, or when. But she knew it would happen. Hope Mikaelson knew the Hollow would destroy this boy holding her hand. The Hollow would turn this sweet, gentle child into the worst beast the world has ever known.

If she followed her original plan, Hope would have to stand by, simply watching as the Hollow destroyed this sweet, innocent and tender version of Mikael.

It would break her heart and damn her soul. If she did nothing to stop Hollow’s abuse… Hope was sure it would make her a worst monster than the Hollow herself…

“But what other choice do I have?” she whispered to herself, blinking away tears and only barely paying any attention to the path ahead of her.

“Don’t worry!” Mikael said breathlessly, turning back once again to smile–his sweetest smile. His words pulled her out of her thoughts. For a moment, she was almost sure he had heard her thoughts. If he had, she decided, staring at his smiling face; his reply was sweet, but it did not help her at all.

“We are almost there.” Mikael added, looking back at the road. “You’ll be safe there. With food, a fire and new clothes too!” he squeezed her hand reassuringly. But it only made her guilt and confusion tangle tighter around her poor heart.

“Look!” Mikael said, for the fifth time throughout their brief journey.

Swallowing her guilt as best as she could, Hope looked up from his hand. Mikael guided her up a small hill on the outskirts of the city. With the sun setting on the distant horizon, the city shone with a golden light, as though it was on fire.

“It’s so beautiful…” she muttered, a smile of awe on her lips. There, Hope promised she would enjoy the views, the beauty and history all around her, some day….

But not today.

Mikael tugged at her hand, guiding her further down a narrow path between two large rocks. Mikael stopped after a corner and turned back to Hope, smiling. Behind him, there was the entrance of a cave half hidden behind a tapestry of bindweed.

As the boy pushed away the vines to reveal the darkness within the cave, a shiver ran down Hope’s spine. The high stone wall seemed to have been precisely cut to make the entrance. Hope was sure such a precise opening could never happen naturally and nothing human could cut stone like that, at least not in that time period. But then, the energy she felt coming from the cave was anything but human. That might explain it.

“Don’t be scared.” Mikael said. His voice was sweet still, but there was an edge to it; as though his words were a command. Not to Hope, but to himself; he was ordering his fears to be gone.

“What is this place?” Hope swallowed. Her body, her wolf instincts, even her magic, urged her to run as far as possible from that place.

“We call it the Walking Cave.” He smiled, helping her to climb further into the cave. “My aunt said the gods made it as a place of refuge. Where they could regain their strength. The Gods–I mean… Humans aren’t supposed to come here, I think… Not sure.” He scratched his chin, glancing back at the entrance. “But my siblings and I have been coming here for ages, and it’s always been alright… My parents’ house is close by too…” he forced a smile, desperately trying to remember good things about his parents. “There are tunnels linking their to the cave… There have always been. Mother and father like to be close to the cave.” Mikael looked back at Hope, his fierce bright blue eyes shining in the darkness of the Cave. “They can come here–to the Cave. You must be careful. They mustn’t see or hear you…”

Hope stood horror-struck, staring into his eyes. The Walking Cave, she whispered under her breath. The monster, the Destroyer, would take her there. It was the first part of the puzzle, the first thing she had to find on her mission to save her family. And Mikael, this sweet child, just handed it to her in a silver plater, without even knowing how important it was.

She almost let out a scream of relief, happiness, victory. But then Mikael tugged at her hand again.

“Come.” he urged. “We aren’t in the safe place just yet. It’s not good to stay long in some parts of the Cave.”

His words brought her back to reality. Winning could never be that simple. Everything was too easy so far; finding Mikael both times, then the cave… A knot in Hope’s stomach warned her that the worst of her journey was yet to come.

But she would be ready for it.

Holding tight to Mikael’s hand, Hope followed him further into the darkness. In the distance, a small light, a fire, burned between one of the many pools of bright blue bubbling water and a river of crimson red waters. Around the fire sat two more children, a boy and a girl, around Mikael’s age, and a toddler, no older than four years. The older children talked in worried whispers, as they cared for the toddler. Kneeling by the edge of the red river, a beautiful woman collected seashells. All three of them turned their gaze to meet Mikael, smiling as he approached. But their smiles fell once they saw Hope.

Mikael was undisturbed by their worried looks. He marched to them smiling, and placing down the food he had gathered–stolen. Taking the bread and fruits out of his bag, he looked proud of himself.

“Who is she?” the other boy asked, his curly dark hair falling over his eyes.

“Oh. That’s Hope Marshall. I met her at the market.” Mikael said unceremoniously, as he played with the young toddler, taking him into his thin arms and spinning him around. “I think you’ll like her, Heimi.” he said to the child, laughing in his arms.

“But what’s she doing here?” the boy urged, grabbing Mikael’s arm, and whispering loudly into his ear. “Why did you bring her here?”

“Niko,” Mikael sighed, putting the toddler down. “Can you please stop acting a mad person? We have guests.”

Niko grunted, letting go of Mikael. “Kolga,” he said to the girl beside him, “Please help me reason with him…”

Kolga shrugged, as her light blonde hair dancing down her shoulders. She was taller than the two boys, but only a few inches, and it was unlikely that she was much older than Mikael and Niko.

“He’s got a point, Mika.” Kolga said, her eyes analyzing Hope. “We can’t just bring anyone here. What if Inadu and Diavolos decide to come down? What will you do with her then? Ask her to hide in a pond?” she scoffed, siting back down. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“What will he do with her?” Niko asked, astonished. “What about us? She could be dangerous!”

“She is.” Mikael smiled, glancing at Hope. “But not to us. I’d never bring someone here if I thought they’d harm you.” He rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You know I’d do nothing that would put you in danger, don’t you, little brother?”

Niko sighed, exasperated, glancing at Hope. “No. I know you’d never…”

“So sit down and let’s eat, Niklaus.”

“But…”

Mikael ignored his brother’s protests. “Please feel at home and sit wherever you like. I’ll make us some food.” He gestured for Hope to come closer. “My aunts should be here soon, too. But for now, we can get you food and some warmer clothes. The nights are chilly here.”

Hope watched the scene unfold a few steps away from the fire. She focused on the children, holding back a laugh. They all acted so much like adults, yet their childish voices betrayed their every word. The three of them were absolutely adorable. But the mention of her father’s name was a knife cutting through her heart. Mikael had named Klaus after his younger brother then… Did that mean Mikael loved Klaus?

The questions burned, dancing around her mind. But all Hope could do for now was to survive, and hope that at some point she could find the answers to all her questions. Resigned, she smiled at Mikael, sitting down by the fire, across from the children, so she could go on watching them.

“Won’t you introduce us all to our guest, little prince?”

Hope had been so distracted with the children, she had forgotten about the woman sitting by the river collecting seashells. Her deep voice startled Hope, who turned her head to watch the woman slowly walk to the fire. Her dark curly hair fell all the way to her waist, and her light green dress was short enough for Hope to see her knees when she sat down beside her.

“Oh! Right, sorry.” Mikael said, as he prepared their food. “Hope, this is my brothers, Niko and Heimi, and my sister Kolga. And,” he smiled, pointing at the beautiful woman sitting beside Hope. “That is our cousin, Yolanda Bennett. She’s aunt Tessa’s daughter.” he said, turning his attention to his siblings, who told him about their days.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hope Marshall.” Yolanda said, reaching for Hope’s hand. Her words dragged Hope’s gaze and attention away from the children’s conversation, and to Yolanda’s bright eyes.

“Likewise.” Hope reached with her hand, expecting a handshake, and being oddly pleasantly surprised when Yolanda placed a kiss on her hand. She smiled, her cheeks burning red.

“What brings you to our humble home, Hope?” Yolanda asked, smiling as she took the plate of food Mikael offered her.

“Well, it’s a ridiculously long and convoluted story….”

“We have time…” Yolanda smiled, her green eyes analyzing Hope’s every move.

Hope opened her mouth slowly, her mind racing to find a way to tell her story without sounding mad. Telling them she was an orphan on an insane mission to save her family with magic and time travel wasn’t a bad idea… if she let the time travel, and her family’s last name out of it…

“My family… they…” she drawled, with her heart drumming in her ears. Part of her mind trying to fight tears, and the rest of her searching for the best way to put her story into words.

As she took a deep breath to continue, a loud, high-pitched sound echoed through the Cave. It sounded like a scream, a horrible one; but it had a sinister tempo, a pattern. It shock the walls; drowning out all other sounds. The children’s lively conversation stopped. They all stood still, barely breathing, their wide eyes staring ahead. Waiting, waiting… Yolanda clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, but her posture was just like the children. They were all terrified and waiting… But none was more scared than Mikael. His hands shook, his lips trembled and his bright blue eyes stared desperately into the fire, praying it would save or devour him; whichever could take him away before it was too late…

Once the sound stopped, a painful silence fell over them. None of the children moved… until Mikael went back to cooking. His lips trembled and his hands shook still, but he went on. His wide eyes focused on the task ahead, his breathing went back to normal quicker than anyone else’s. He looked resigned; dreading what was to come would not help, so he seemed to accept whatever cruelty Fate would bring upon him.

Hope stared at him, her mouth half open. Trying desperately to decipher him, she thought of using magic to understand what the sound meant. But her instincts warned her against it. She would find soon enough and hate every second.

“She needs to talk to aunt Amara.” Mikael said, without looking up as he prepared another plate of food. He kept his voice light, pleasant, trying to go back in time, to when all was well, when they laughed and talked lively around the fire. As though he was desperate to forget the sound and wanted to force everyone around him to pretend it never happened. His small and careful hands moved fast and gracefully as he cooked, although his hands still shook.

“Hope had a lot of questions about… well, a lot. I did not know how to answer them…” he swallowed, looking down at the fire. His bright blue eyes shined, filled with questions of his own. “I’m not sure I should… my parents wouldn’t like it…” he sighed, his lips shaking. Still, seconds later, he was glancing back at Hope with a smile. “But I also trust her. I think she must have good reasons for her questions. And… I want to help her.”

“Why?” Hope blurted out, her heart twisting in her chest. How could he be so kind to a total stranger? How could this sweet child turn into a horrible monster?

“Should he not trust you?” Kolga asked, leaning forward from across the fire. Her eyes, oddly intimidating for such a young girl, glowed bright yellow as she stared at Hope.

A werewolf. Hope swallowed a gasp. Mikael's sister was a werewolf? With every single bit of information Hope gained, everything her family told her about Mikael made less and less sense. But that was only one of her problems. Losing their trust–Mikael’s trust–was not an option.

“That is not what she meant, little princess.” Yolanda said sweetly, her alert green eyes calming Kolga. “I believe it was more a question about your brother’s motives Which to answer…” she turned to Hope, smiling." Our little Mika is simply too kind for his own good. His mother and father see this as his greatest weakness. But I, and all who truly know him, believe it to be his greatest strength."

“That’s not true!” Mikael replied, his cheeks burning red. “I’m not that kind…” he shook his head, staring at the fire. “It’s just… she needed help…. I was there. That’s all.” He swallowed, finishing the last plate and handing it to Hope, as always, with a sweet smile on his lips.

“Thank you… Wait,” Hope said, taking the plate and looking around, alarmed. “What will you eat?”

Mikael stood up, smiling. “It’s alright. Truly. I–.”

The high-pitched sound echoed again through the cave. This time louder, more ruthless and shorter. But everyone’s reactions were the same. Wide eyed, frozen in place, terror pulsing through their veins.

The silence after the sound was longer. They all dreaded the waiting, but what came after was far worse. Mikael stepped slow around the fire, dragging on the silence, and quietly begging for the wait to continue.

Hope had her gaze fixed on Mikael, but with the corner of her eyes, she watched his brother, Niko, knelling down in silent prayer. They followed Mikael, Hope realized; if he moved, they could move; if he spoke, they could speak. Kolga set beside him, her breathing sparse as she followed him in prayer. The toddler, Heimi, sat still watching his older brother, and clinging to a wooden toy knight that looked oddly to Hope…

“My parents will call on me shortly.” Mikael said, breaking the silence as he kept on staring into the fire. “It’s best I don’t eat for now. Or else I might throw up during it…” He smiled, trying to hide the trembling of his lips and the fear in his voice. But it could not bring himself to look at anyone while he spoke.

During what? Hope wanted to ask, but everything about Mikael’s posture told her she would regret knowing. Still, she had to know. If she could only know what the Hollow was doing to Mikael, maybe she could stop it… maybe it could also be a way to save her family…

“What…” Hope began, fighting herself to have the courage to ask the right and hard questions, “What will they–.”

The high-pitched sound echoed a third time. Agonizing, full of hatred… and quick.

When the sound ended, the silence was brief. Little Heimi cried quietly, but still desperately.

“I must go now.” Mikael said, forcing his face to remain expressionless, but his voice gave him away, shaking and weak. “My parents are calling me. But I shall be back in no time.” he raised his eyes for the fire, glancing at his siblings and at Hope, his sweetest smile playing on his lips; and terror glowing from behind his eyes.

“Will you help her?” He asked Yolanda, his voice desperate. “Can you keep her safe while I’m gone?”

Yolanda smiled, reaching to take his hands into hers. “Do not worry, little prince. I will guard her with my life if I have to. Your friend, and as usual, your siblings, will be safe with me. You have my word.” She kept her voice steady, but with the flickering light of the fire, Hope could see tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Thank you.” Mikael turned to Hope. “Stay here. She will keep you safe. Please, hide if any of the Gods come down here. And,” he turned to his siblings. “Go to bed before I come back. It’s better this way.”

“We won’t leave you alone.” Kolga said, looking up to him, her eyes glowing yellow again.

Mikael smiled sadly. “Very well, but stay out of their way. You’ll only make it worse if you try to stop it, and you both know it.” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for them, as though he meant to hug them; but, changing his mind, he turned away. “Do nothing stupid.” he petted Heimi’s hair. “And don’t worry… I always come back, don’t I?”

With one last forced smile, Mikael turned away and disappeared into the Cave’s darkness.

“Where… where is he going?” Hope asked, her heart drumming in her chest.

“To see his parents.” Niko replied, taking Heimi into his arms and getting ready for bed. “He’s usually back before morning.”

“What will they do to him?” The question jumped from her lips before Hope could tell her mind she would regret knowing the answer.

“Mikael was right.” Yolanda said, cleaning her tears with the back of her hand. “You ask far too many questions for your own good.” Her bright eyes examined Hope’s face one last time. “Thankfully, for you, I believe I have some answers you seek. But I will only answer your questions truthfully, if you agree to answer mine.” She smiled, tilting her head to the side. “Do we have a deal?”

Hope held her breath, replying faster than she probably should have. “Yeah. We have a deal.”

“Good.” Yolanda smiled, taking Hope’s hand in hers. “Come with me, Hope Marshall. Let us unravel some mysteries, shall we?”

Biting her lip, Hope stood up and follow Yolanda Bennett through the cave. Finally, some bloody answers…

***

Chapter Text