Chapter One

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I followed all the rules, 

I drew inside all the lines.

Nera's POV 

Once upon a time... That's how things always begin, isn't it? Well, once upon a time, my life was peaceful, one may even call it serene or idyllic...

It began in a small village settled among the forest lands and admits the rolling hills and winding rivers of what would later be known as Mystic Falls, Virginia.


Village life growing up was quiet, unspoiled by bloodshed or violence that other villages and clans often fell prey to; at times, it was even monotonous and tedious, the same routine and the same simple life day in and day out.

But, it was my village.

You see, I was the daughter of the village chief, born from generations of village leaders, and this village was to be my responsibility when the time came; a responsibility that I would gladly embrace when my father saw it fit.

I was four when the Mikaelsons came with their clan, warriors, seeking to conquer and seeking their own land.For my own safety, my father sent me to live with my mother's sister in her own village, removed enough from his lineage, from my birthright, that no one would be the wiser, only my father's seal hidden in my things as a reminder of a past I had to leave behind.

It was never a war we were going to win, and I saw as my parents died, and my own people were conquered, the lands turned bloody and choked with smoke, the only truth I knew being what my aunt told me, and the vision of burning flames which I saw as my aunt carried me away from my home.

I never asked for anything that wasn't mine,

I waited patiently for my time.

My life changed after that moment, although life with my aunt was much the same, her village not all that different from my own, and the memories of my parents fading quickly from my mind with each passing year; in a way, I was lucky, for the innocence of my youth protected me from the horrors and kept me ignorant of all that had occurred, the memories I did have sustained only by mother's sister, left to burn within me like a flickering ember.


I was eight when I met Elijah Mikaelson, walking alongside the stream picking herbs for my aunt, though she never let me wander far, she still trusted me to do small household tasks; after all, I had a talent many on my mother's side had inherited.


Bushes moved, rustling as if someone or something approached, and in instinct I reached both for the small hunting knife I carried in the folds of my tunic and for my magic that lie under my skin, feeding from Nature and Earth itself.

"Who goes there?" I question, my basket of herbs forgotten beside me. "Show yourself." I demand, though I was sure my voice still quivered under my fear and anxiety.

"My apologies." A voice answers, young, barely older than me. "My father sent me out to hunt. I thought perhaps I may find better conquest out here near the stream." The voice emerges from the bushes to reveal a face barely older than me. "I did not mean to startle you."

"You didn't." I answer primly, now picking up my basket and intent to leave.

"Well, my apologies anyways." The boy replies anyways, catching up to me in merely a few strides. "My name is Elijah.... Elijah Mikaelson."​"Nera." I simply offer. 


​"Nera." Elijah calls, running up to me in the forest, his hair flopping on his forehead as he runs up to where I kneel by the stream's side, a common place to find me picking herbs for my aunt.

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