The Originals - Revenant

Chapter 11

»»—1914, Reykjavík, Iceland—««

"Björn!" I called, "Run!"

I could hear him running down the stairs, already knowing what was going on.

"Is it here?" he asked, frantic, "Do you see it?"

I stood outside with the rest of the people, waiting for him. He reached me just in time and held my hand as the first ray of sun that we had seen in months appeared on the sky.

"Oh, my god," he said, closing his eyes and letting the warmth reach his skin, "I had forgotten how it felt."

"Me too," I whispered.

The kids ran around, playing in the eternal snow. Our neighbours waved at us amicably, they were especially nice with us since we still didn't speak the language well. The sun reflected with the snow and it threatened to blind us, but we just wanted to stay there for some seconds longer. I looked around and I thought I could see the neighbours' faces already catching some colour, which would quickly turn their pale faces red.

Some started to go back to their chores, others shouted at their children to be careful, and only a couple remained as we did. Amongst them, a girl who I had never seen before kept staring directly at me. She was tall, slim, with dirty-blonde hair. She was very pretty even dressed as poorly as she was. She seemed to have been travelling afoot for some time and the dark shadows under her eyes gave away that she was tired of it. She was certainly older than me, or at least looked the part.

"Björn," I called lowly, gaining his attention, "That girl's staring."

He frowned, analyzing the blonde. "Do you know her?"

"I've never seen her," I said.

The girl started to approach us. "Hello," she said. She was shy but seemed determined to talk to us.

I tilted my head slightly. "Hi," I responded, "Do you want something?"

"Can we talk somewhere more private?" she asked.

I shared a look with Björn, who was as confused as I was. He caressed the back of his head, disentangling his shorts dark curls, a habit he had when thinking, and shrugged to me. I nodded to her and asked her to follow us. We walked into the house without inviting her in, to check whether she was a vampire, but she came in without problems.

I guided her to the living room, where the fire warmed the room, and turned to face her.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I saw you in a dream," she told me.

I smirked a little. "You can omit the most racy details."

"You know my family," she declared, "I saw it in a vision."

I frowned. I had never seen this girl in my life. If she had had a vision of me, though, she was probably a witch and, even though I was in the constant company of one, that irked me. I didn't know which coven she belonged to and for a second I was afraid it was the one that almost killed me back when I was human. But that couldn't be. I had killed them all. "I've known a lot of people through my life and I've tried to forget most of them. Please, be more specific."

"The Mikaelsons."

I was so confused and it showed. My mind raced through all the information I knew about the Mikaelsons, thinking maybe she could be a distant cousins twice removed, but nothing came to mind. I knew all the Mikaelsons there were to know: Ester, Mikael, Finn, Elijah, Nik, Kol, Rebekah, Henrik. And she wasn't any of them. As far as I knew, Ester and Mikael didn't have other family, at least in America. Maybe they had left some behind in Europe when they escaped to a new life. They had left after they lost a child— A child. A little girl. Freya.