Chapter 22: Hope's Birth (Part 2)
I was drowning.
The water pressed against my chest, cold and eternal. The coffin walls were inches from my face. Silver burned through my heart. And I'd been here for—
How long? How long have I been here?
Forever. A millennium. Every second. Time had no meaning in the darkness.
"Please," I whispered to no one. "Please let me out. Please—"
Esther's face appeared above me. Smiling. Clinical. "You're doing so well, Roy. Your blood is making something wonderful. Just a bit longer."
"I can't—"
"You can. You will. Because you're mine."
"No—"
"Roy!" A hand on my shoulder. Shaking. "Roy, wake up! You're hallucinating!"
My eyes snapped open. Not the ocean. The warehouse basement. Davina's face above me, concerned and exhausted.
"You were screaming," she said quietly. "Calling for your mother. Calling for Mikael. Begging them to stop."
I sat up slowly. My body ached like I'd been hit by a truck. "How long was I out?"
"Twelve hours. It's 6 PM. You've been transforming for eighteen hours total."
Eighteen hours. And I was still alive.
"Is it done?" I asked.
"I don't know. Your power signature is still fluctuating. The magic is—" She gestured around the basement.
I followed her gaze and froze.
Every object in the basement was floating. Blood bags, furniture, my laptop, Marcus's weapons—all suspended in mid-air, rotating slowly, surrounded by faint purple light.
"That's me," I said. Not a question.
"Your unconscious magic. It started around hour eight and hasn't stopped. I've been maintaining a containment spell to keep it from spreading to the upper floors, but Roy—" Her voice was strained. "I'm exhausted. I can't hold this much longer."
"Let it drop."
"What?"
"Let the containment drop. I'll control it."
"You don't know how—"
"I'll figure it out. You need rest."
Davina hesitated. Then, slowly, she released the containment spell.
The objects kept floating. The purple light intensified.
Okay. Magic. You're part of me now. Time to behave.
I reached for the power instinctively, the way I'd reach for hemokinesis. Found it thrumming under my skin, wild and untrained but there. Grabbed it. Pulled it back.
The objects lowered gently to the floor. The purple light faded.
"Holy shit," Davina whispered. "You just... controlled it. Without training. Without ritual."
"Tribrid nature. My body adapted." I stood, testing my balance. Everything felt different. Stronger. More alive. "How bad is the warehouse?"
"Upper floors are destroyed. Windows shattered. Half the walls have cracks. Marcus has been doing damage control."
"Where is he?"
"Standing guard upstairs. Making sure no one investigates the magical explosion." She grabbed my arm as I swayed. "Easy. You're not fully recovered."
"But I'm alive."
"Yeah. Against all odds, you're alive."
I smiled. "Seems to be my specialty."
Marcus appeared at the top of the stairs. "You're up. Good. We have a visitor."
"Who?"
"Elijah. Says he needs to check on you."
Right. Of course Elijah would come.
I climbed the stairs slowly, body still adjusting. Every movement felt foreign—like I was learning to walk again in a body that had been fundamentally altered.
Elijah stood in the main warehouse, surveying the destruction with barely concealed concern. When he saw me, relief washed over his face.
"You survived," he said simply.
"Barely. How's Hope?"
"Perfect. Klaus is... surprisingly competent as a father." Elijah approached carefully. "How do you feel?"
"Like I was torn apart and put back together. But different. Better." I held up my hand, concentrated. Purple light flickered around my fingers. "The magic is there. Raw, untrained, but accessible."
"Can you control it?"
"Mostly. Still learning." I let the light fade. "The transformation was worse than I expected. Hallucinations. The ocean. Esther. All of it came back."
Elijah's expression darkened with guilt. "I'm sorry. For what my mother did. For the trauma you carry."
"Not your fault. Never was." I met his eyes. "Is Hope safe? Are the witches still a threat?"
"Klaus slaughtered twenty witches during the attack. Agnes is dead. The remaining covens are terrified." He smiled slightly. "Hope Mikaelson is probably the most protected infant in history."
"Good. That's good."
We stood in the destroyed warehouse, two immortals who'd survived impossible transformations, and I felt something settle in my chest.
It was done. Hope was born. I'd evolved. We'd both survived.
Now came the hard part: figuring out what came next.
"You should rest," Elijah said. "Properly rest. Not just pass out from exhaustion."
"Can't. Need to test my abilities. See what I can do now that the transformation is complete."
"Roy—"
"I spent a millennium doing nothing, Elijah. I'm done resting."
He sighed but didn't argue. "Very well. But if you collapse again, I'm compelling Marcus to tie you to a bed."
"You can't compel Marcus. He's my sireline."
"Then I'll do it myself. Manually."
I laughed. It felt good. Normal. "Fine. I'll take it easy. Happy?"
"Moderately." He moved toward the door, paused. "Roy. You did well. Surviving that transformation. Protecting Hope. You should be proud."
"I'm mostly just relieved I didn't die."
"That too."
After Elijah left, I went back to the basement. Davina had fallen asleep on the cot, exhausted from maintaining spells for eighteen hours. Marcus was organizing the scattered supplies, putting the warehouse back together piece by piece.
I sat on the floor, closed my eyes, and reached inward.
Vampire. Wolf. Witch.
All three natures hummed inside me, no longer fighting for dominance but existing in balance. The vampire gave me strength and immortality. The wolf gave me enhanced senses and transformation abilities. The witch gave me access to magic that most vampires could only dream of.
I was complete. Finally. After a millennium of being used as a power source, after months of painful recovery, I'd become what I was always meant to be.
A tribrid. The first adult tribrid in existence.
And somewhere across the city, Hope Mikaelson—the second tribrid—was sleeping in her father's arms.
We're connected now, kid. Both miracles. Both impossible.
I smiled in the darkness.
This was just the beginning.
The supernatural world had no idea what was coming.
But they'd learn. Soon enough, they'd all learn.
The Proto-Original had evolved.
And nothing would ever be the same.
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