This is the story of a girl called Astrid, and it starts with a prophecy.
A prophecy of a life that is not hers but one that will be forced upon her nonetheless.But prophecy are always up to those you believed them, and Astrid didn't think further o...
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"Hello, Davina. We have a lot to talk about," I say with a small smile, my voice calm and steady despite the chaotic situation that had just unfolded. "I know this must be confusing for you, but I assure you, I mean no harm."
Davina looks at me, unsure about what to make of the stranger in front of her. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room, assessing for potential weapons.
Suddenly all her paintbrushes coming flying at me but I stop them mid-flight with my own magic before letting them drop to the floor.
As the last brush clatters to the ground, Davina backs away, fear evident in her expression. I could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, but also a glimmer of defiance that intrigued me.
"Who are you? Why are you here? And what the hell do you want?!" Davina's voice firm as she fired off her questions, her hands clenched into tight fists as the room around us begins to shake and I am hit by her magic.
I tilt my head slightly, not use to the feeling of such magic attacking at my mind, as I look over her before leaning forward slightly.
"I want a lot of things but I made a promise. So, let us start from the beginning. I am Astrid Mikaelson. And I want my husband back. But I also want to know why a girl your age is stuck in this tiny, sad room instead of living your life."
Davina's eyes widened in disbelief at my words, her guard slowly lowering as she tried to process the unexpected revelation. Davina looks over to Elijah in the coffin, his eyes closed peacefully as if in a deep slumber.
"You're Elijah's wife?"
I shrug, "Something like that,"
Davina gets to her feet glaring at me, her expression a mix of defiance and curiosity. She takes a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she studies me intently.
"Well, I don't know who you think you are or what kind of games you're playing, but you're not going to get away with this. I won't let you take him."
I simply smile at Davina's defiance, a glint of admiration in my eyes. I slowly rise from my seat, my movements deliberate and graceful. Crossing the room to stand directly in front of Davina, she meets my gaze with unwavering confidence.
"I admire your courage, Davina," I say softly, my voice ringing clear in the quiet room. "And I'm not here to play games. I am here to listen and talk. So, tell me little witch, why do the witches want you so badly?"
Davina's eyes flicker with a mixture of surprise and wariness at my question. She hesitates for a moment, torn between her instinct to keep her guard up and the overwhelming curiosity sparked by this unexpected turn of events.
Taking a deep breath, Davina sits back down on the edge of her bed which makes my return to my own as well.
Davina's hands fidgeted in her lap, the weight of the situation pressing down on her shoulders. She took a moment to compose herself before finally speaking up, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability.
