Witchcraft and Shadows

Fractured Echoes

"The witch trial reveals not the presence of magic but the extent of human cruelty and ignorance." 

— Anonymous

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Whitmore College – Alaric's Office

Alaric slammed his hand on the desk in frustration, his voice rising with panic. "DAMON IS GOING TO KILL ME!"

Elena sat across from him, eerily calm, trying to maintain control of the situation. "You're unkillable," she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Doesn't mean he won't try!" Alaric snapped, running a hand through his hair. His nerves were shot, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He knew Damon too well, and the thought of facing his wrath made his stomach churn.

Elena paused, her gaze distant, considering the question. "What do you think is going to happen when I do see him?"

Alaric shifted in his seat, his eyes searching for the right words, but Elena's question hung heavy in the air. Neither of them had answers, not really. She had been avoiding Damon for so long, but the inevitable was coming. They both knew it.

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Salvatore Mausoleum

Damon paced back and forth, his frustration growing by the second. His hands clenched into fists, as though trying to wrangle the impossible into reality. "I just need to see her, Stefan!" he said, his voice raw with emotion. "Our eyes will meet, fireworks will go off, and the balance of nature will be restored. She loves me!"

Stefan stood at the door of the mausoleum, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had heard Damon say these things before, but now, in his desperation, there was a rawness that worried him. "You've said that before, Damon. But... you don't know what she's going through. You don't know what it will do to her."

"I don't care! She's still out there, Stefan," Damon insisted, his voice rising. "She's mine, and I need her to remember that."

Stefan didn't respond immediately. His silence spoke volumes, but he couldn't bring himself to shatter Damon's hope just yet.

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Whitmore College – Alaric's Office

The tension in the room thickened when Elena's voice broke through, shaking with frustration. "He's a psychotic killer!"

Alaric's gaze softened as he leaned forward on the desk. "You only feel that way because I erased all the good parts, Elena," he said quietly. His tone wasn't accusatory; it was just a simple statement of fact. She had seen Damon at his worst, and he'd made sure to erase everything that could remind her of the Damon she once loved.

Elena shook her head, her chest tightening. "I don't see anything that could balance out the bad. Promise me you won't lift the compulsion." Her voice cracked with the weight of her request, almost pleading.

Alaric's gaze never wavered as he sighed deeply. "Promise me you'll be okay with this," he said quietly. "I won't, okay? Not until you ask me to."

Elena exhaled, the weight on her shoulders lightening for the briefest of moments. "Thank you," she whispered, but the relief in her voice was short-lived.

"But, Elena?" Alaric added, his eyes steady. "I hope you ask me."

She looked at him, uncomfortable, before standing up abruptly. "I have to go. I have a shift at the hospital."