The Boy King's Journey in TVD/TO As A Mikaelson

The flames in the hearth flickered unevenly, casting jagged shadows that danced across the cold stone walls. The chamber was thick with an unbearable tension, a suffocating silence punctuated only by the occasional crackle of firewood. The newly awakened Mikaelsons were gathered, their unnatural stillness a sharp contrast to the roiling emotions within them.

The air carried a pungent mix of scents -- blood, ash, and the faint tang of herbs lingering from Esther's spellwork. But nothing in the room held their attention more than the still form of Vali, lying motionless on the altar.

Niklaus leaned heavily against the wall, his shoulders hunched as if the weight of the moment were pressing him into the stone. His arms were crossed tightly, a futile attempt to shield himself from the agonizing sight before him.

Rebekah, her golden hair tangled and her cheeks streaked with tears, stood at the edge of the altar. Her hands trembled as they hovered over Vali's chest, unwilling to touch him, as though the act would confirm the worst.

Kol paced restlessly, his boots striking the stone with uneven rhythm. His fingers twitched at his sides, the energy of his new existence surging uncontrollably through him.

Elijah stood apart from the others, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. His dark eyes burned with a cold fury that promised violence should the truth reveal itself to be as bleak as they feared.

Finally, it was Elijah who broke the oppressive silence. "Why isn't he waking?"

His voice was calm, but the barely suppressed urgency beneath it sent a ripple through the room.

Mikael, standing at the head of the altar, opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. His hands trembled as they rested on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white with strain. He glanced at Elijah, his expression betraying a flicker of doubt he had never allowed himself to show before.

"He was the last to fall," Mikael said finally, his voice quiet and strained. "Perhaps his spirit… requires more time."

"Requires more time?" Kol's voice was sharp, incredulous. "We all felt it -- the moment the spell took hold. We rose together, stronger, faster, alive in ways we've never known. Vali should be awake. He should be with us."

Rebekah shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Maybe something went wrong." She looked at her mother, her eyes wide and desperate. "Mother… is he-? Can he…?"

Esther stepped forward slowly, her hands twisting in the folds of her dress. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed with the shadows of exhaustion and something darker: guilt.

"I don't know," she whispered.

The words hung in the air like a death knell. Niklaus's head snapped up, his fury spilling over. "You don't know?" he hissed, pushing off the wall. "You did this to us! You made us into these -- these monsters! How can you not know?"

Esther recoiled, her hands rising defensively. "The spell was… experimental. I had to-"

"To what?" Niklaus's voice rose, his anger echoing off the walls. "Sacrifice him for your twisted rituals? What did you do, Mother?"

"It's the mark," Esther said, her voice trembling.

"The mark?" Rebekah's brow furrowed. "The one on his arm? What does that have to do with anything?"

Esther hesitated, her gaze darting to Mikael. "It was never a simple birthmark," she said softly. "I've always known it wasn't natural. I told your father… but he refused to listen."

"What are you saying, Esther?" Mikael's voice was low, dangerous.

"It's cursed," she admitted, her voice breaking. "From the day he was born, I felt its darkness. I tried to protect him -- to protect us -- but the mark carried a weight I couldn't ignore."

Niklaus's fists clenched, his voice shaking with rage. "And what did you do? What did you try to do?"

Esther's face crumpled as she confessed, her voice a broken whisper. "I tried to rid us of it. Of him."

The room erupted. Rebekah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Kol's pacing halted as he stared at his mother in disbelief. Niklaus's roar of fury echoed through the chamber, but it was Mikael who silenced them all.

"You tried to kill him," Mikael said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his body trembling. "The accidents, the illnesses -- all those times he nearly died… that was you."

Esther sobbed, nodding. "I thought it was the only way to save our family. The mark -- it was a harbinger of death. I was desperate-"

"You poisoned him!" Mikael's shout was raw, guttural. "He was our son, and you condemned him!"

Mikael realisation sinking in, sank to his knees beside Vali's body, his trembling hands reaching out to touch his son's chest. The coldness of Vali's skin made him recoil, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his fingers hovered just above the lifeless form. His son -- his boy -- so still, so cold.

Mikael's trembling hands hovered over Vali's cold chest, the memories still flooding his mind, each one more painful than the last. He saw Vali's young face, filled with admiration as they sparred together. "You'll make a fine warrior, my son," Mikael had said, lifting Vali high in the air, a rare moment of joy shared between father and son. But the memories grew darker, cutting through the warmth of the past like a jagged blade.

He saw Vali lying in his sickbed once again, pale and feverish. The boy's body seemed too fragile to survive the relentless cycle of sickness. He'd spent weeks at a time in bed, unable to hold a sword, unable to run, unable to even speak clearly without coughing.

Yet, no matter how many doctors they called in, no matter what remedies they tried, Vali's body was slow to heal. And when he did, the illnesses returned, each one more crippling than the last.

The tension between them had begun to grow, small at first, but enough to cloud their once close relationship. Vali, growing older and more aware, had begun to question what was happening to him. His once bright eyes had started to show signs of pain, of confusion, of betrayal.

Mikael could hear the words now, like they were spoken only yesterday, his son's voice trembling with hurt and disbelief.

"You never believed me, did you?" Vali had accused, his voice raw with years of suffering. "The fevers... the weakness... the accidents. Do you know how it feels to have your own mother want to kill you?"

Mikael had stood frozen in the moment, unable to fathom the words.

"Vali, don't be foolish," he had replied, a harshness to his tone, yet also an undercurrent of fear. "Your mother would never-"

But Vali had cut him off, his face pale, his voice cracking. "You don't see it, do you? All these years, all these things that happened to me -- they weren't accidents, Father. They weren't just illnesses. She did it. She poisoned me with her magic, just like she poisoned herself. She wanted me dead."

Mikael had shaken his head in denial, his chest tightening with the unbearable weight of his son's accusation. "That's not true," Mikael had insisted, his voice rising in defense of Esther, as it always had. "Your mother loves you. She would never harm you."

But the doubt had begun to take root, despite Mikael's desperate insistence. The shadows in Vali's eyes -- the ones that never disappeared after his illnesses -- the way he had spoken of Esther with so much fear, with so much bitterness -- these things had begun to gnaw at Mikael's certainty.

He had refused to consider it, unwilling to look beyond the life he had built with Esther. He had chosen to believe in her, to trust her, because if he didn't -- if he even dared entertain the possibility that she had betrayed their son -- everything he had fought for, everything he had built with her, would crumble.

He had clung to that belief, even as Vali's body grew weaker, even as the accusations began to haunt him. But he had always silenced the growing voice in his head that told him maybe Vali was right.

Now, as Mikael knelt before Vali's lifeless body, the weight of his son's words hit him like a wave, drowning him in guilt. The fog of years of faith in Esther, in her love, in her promises, was lifting. For the first time, Mikael could see the truth.

Esther had been lying. She had poisoned Vali, sabotaging his health for reasons Mikael could never understand. The illnesses, the fevers, the accidents -- all the things he had dismissed as coincidences, all the moments where he had ignored Vali's pain, now made sense.

"You've decided to finish it yourself? Finally decided to join mother in her quest to kill me? All these years, her poisons and curses failing... And the one person I thought loved me most... is the one who kills me.

I was the abomination... wasn't I?" The echo of his son's final words shattered his heart.

Now, that Esther had confessed, her voice thick with guilt, it all became clear. Her words fell like stones in Mikael's mind, each one sinking deeper into his heart.

"I thought it was the only way to save us," Esther whispered, broken and tearful, her face pale and twisted with regret. "The mark on him… it was always a sign, Mikael. A curse. I knew that from the moment he was born."

Mikael turned to her in stunned silence, unable to speak as the true horror of her words sank in. For all these years, for all of their struggles, for all the sickness that had ravaged his son, he had been blind.

'She had done it. She had orchestrated it all.'

Esther trembled as she spoke, her voice shaking with a raw, twisted sorrow. "I never wanted this to happen. But the mark… it was too much. The darkness was always there. I had to protect our family. I thought if he died, everything would be alright. We would be safe."

Mikael felt as if the world was crashing down around him, the foundation of his entire life, his family, shaking beneath his feet. He had been too blinded by his faith in Esther, by his love for her.

He had trusted her completely, ignored all the signs of her betrayal. And now, standing here, with his son's cold body before him, Mikael realized the truth.

Esther had taken him. She had wanted him gone, all because of the mark.

'Vali was never the problem. The mark was just a symbol, a sign of who he was, of what she feared. She had tried to destroy him for it.'

His fists clenched, the guilt coursing through his veins like fire. The years of neglect, of turning a blind eye, of silencing his own doubts, had led to this. He had condemned his son to a slow, agonizing death, and for what? His faith in a woman who had betrayed him, betrayed his family.

'I killed him,' Mikael realized, his thought barely a whisper. 'I was the one who betrayed him.'

He had been so certain, so unwavering in his trust of Esther, that he had allowed the poison to take root, allowing her to destroy their son, all while convincing himself that everything was fine.

Mikael's body trembled as he sat beside Vali's corpse, his face buried in his hands. The tears fell freely now, his heart breaking in the silence of the chamber.

'Why didn't I see it?' he thought, his mind spiraling into despair. 'Why didn't I protect you, Vali?'

He had never wanted this. Never wanted to hurt his son, never wanted to betray him. But now, as he sat in the aftermath, the painful truth was undeniable.

He had allowed Esther to take everything from him. From Vali. From their family. And now, the boy who had been his pride, his joy, his heart, was gone.

Mikael's gaze drifted toward the still form of Vali, and in that moment, the cold stone of the altar felt like a heavy weight pressing down on him. His son -- his boy -- was gone. And there was nothing Mikael could do to undo the horrors that had unfolded.

The guilt, the shame, the regret, it all crashed over him with unrelenting force. And as his tears soaked into the cold stone, Mikael made a vow -- one that burned through the ache in his chest.

'I will make this right. No matter the cost. I will bring you back, Vali.'

The room was silent save for Mikael's cries, the siblings frozen in their own anguish.

When Mikael finally rose, his face was a mask of fury. His gaze locked on Esther, cold and unrelenting. "If he does not awaken, you will wish you had never drawn breath."

Elijah stepped forward, his voice trembling. "We need answers, not threats. If there's a way to bring him back, we must find it."

The fire crackled ominously at Elijah's words, its light casting monstrous shadows over the broken family. The Mikaelsons stood on the brink, their grief threatening to consume them. Yet, for a moment maybe there was hope for more.

But it was only for a moment, for it was immediately crushed.

"No, Mikael," Esther began, "I am sorry, but I will not." Esther stated, her voice filled with grief, yet firm. 

At her words Mikael's mind was unraveling, each memory, each confession, a jagged shard lodged deep within his chest. His hands, once steady and strong, now trembled with an insatiable fury.

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he slowly rose to his feet, his gaze never leaving Esther. His soul, shredded by guilt and the painful weight of truth, was consumed by rage.

She had done it. She had destroyed everything he had built

The realization burned through him like wildfire. Every ounce of pain, every bitter accusation Vali had made echoed in his mind. All of it was true. And now, all of it had shattered Mikael's world.

Without warning, he strode toward Esther, his body shaking with fury and grief. His vision blurred with hot tears, but the rage in his chest cleared his mind.

"You!" Mikael's voice cracked with raw emotion as he lunged toward her, his hands outstretched, ready to wrap around her throat. "You killed him! You destroyed him! And you dare to refuse to rectify your sins?!"

Esther flinched back, her wide eyes filled with fear and regret. But she didn't move to flee. She only stood there, trembling, hands raised in a futile gesture of defense.

Mikael was faster, too consumed with grief to hesitate. His hands grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her off the ground with a strength born from years of rage and torment. His breath came in jagged gasps as he pulled her close, his face twisted with the agony of betrayal.

"You poisoned him!" Mikael spat, shaking her like a ragdoll. "You took my son away from me, and now you will bring him back! You will bring him back or I will make you suffer in ways inexplicable even to your deranged mind, witch!"

Esther's body trembled in his grasp, but she didn't speak. She didn't try to fight back. Her face was pale, the weight of her guilt almost too much for her to bear. And then, her voice, soft and broken, emerged in a whisper.

"I'm sorry… Mikael," she pleaded, her eyes pleading with him, "I never wanted this. I never wanted him to die. I just… I thought-"

But Mikael's fury drowned her words. "You thought?" He threw her violently against the stone wall, sending her crumpling to the ground, gasping for air. The moment she hit the cold stone, the room seemed to grow colder still, the shadows stretching unnaturally as if responding to his rage.

"You lied to me!" Mikael bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. "You deceived me for years. You used me. You killed him!"

He advanced on her again, but as he took another step toward Esther, the air seemed to shift. A strange pressure filled the room, an oppressive weight that pressed against his chest and made it difficult to breathe.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped, and Mikael froze, his hand reaching for his sword in reflex. He felt something in the air, something ancient and heavy, pressing against him. He turned toward the others, but they were all motionless, their eyes wide with the same confusion and growing fear.

Then, a low, chilling sound echoed from the very walls of the chamber.

It wasn't the wind, it wasn't the fire crackling in the hearth -- it was the sound of something far older, far more powerful, whispering in the shadows.

"Mikael…"

The voice was an ethereal whisper, a chorus of voices that seemed to come from all directions. His blood ran cold as the air seemed to warp and bend, a swirl of unnatural energy gathering in the center of the room, coalescing around Esther.

Mikael's grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles white with rage. "What is this?" he hissed, his voice trembling with anger and confusion.

Esther looked up, her eyes wide, and then Mikael saw it -- the flicker of something in her gaze, something beyond the sorrow, beyond the regret.

Her lips moved, a soft incantation, one that seemed to vibrate in the air like a living thing. The whispering voices, rising with an eerie force, grew louder.

"Mikael, stop!" Esther's voice trembled as the power around her seemed to increase. She held up her hand, not in defense, but in surrender, as if to contain the force that surrounded her.

A blinding light began to glow around Esther, an unnatural aura that seemed to protect her. The ancient energy, the presence of something far beyond the mortal world, coiled around her like a shroud. The walls trembled, and the stone beneath their feet seemed to shift.

"No!" Mikael shouted, lunging forward, his sword raised. But as he made contact with the glowing aura, the sword was ripped from his hand, the very air around him crackling with power. It was as if an invisible barrier had thrown him back with the force of a storm, sending him crashing to the cold stone floor.

The sound of the ancient voices grew louder still, the room now trembling with the force of something Mikael could not comprehend. It felt as though the very air was alive, bending to an ancient will, one that was not his own.

The spirits of their ancestors -- the ones Esther had called upon long ago -- had come to her aid. The power of the spirits that had once protected their bloodline now surged through her, and Mikael could do nothing but watch in helpless fury.

"You cannot harm her," the voices whispered in unison, an ancient and terrifying chorus that seemed to echo in his very bones. "She is shielded."

Mikael's heart pounded in his chest as he scrambled to his feet, but the force of the spirits' power held him in place, as if frozen in time. He could feel his strength waning, his body trembling under the weight of their influence. The power of the ancestors was vast, ancient, and unyielding.

"No…" Mikael gasped, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. He tried to move, tried to fight the pull of the spirits, but it was futile. The magic surrounding Esther was beyond his reach, beyond his understanding.

Esther, her face twisted in anguish and sorrow, spoke again, her voice soft but firm. "I never wanted this, Mikael. You don't understand…"

But Mikael could hear nothing beyond the deafening roar of the ancestors' power. The ancient spirits had risen to protect her, to shield her from his wrath, and in that moment, Mikael realized the true extent of his impotence.

He had wanted to destroy her, to punish her for the loss of his son. But the forces that had been awakened were too powerful, too far beyond his control.

Niklaus himself, alongside his siblings, stood frozen in the midst of the chaos, his eyes burning with rage as his father and mother clashed in the center of the room.

The power of the ancestor spirits kept Mikael at bay, their invisible hands forcing him back every time he lunged toward Esther. But Niklaus didn't care for their battle. His mind was consumed with a far deeper, more agonizing thought.

Vali. His brother, his ally -- his family -- was dead, and no amount of anger or power could bring him back.

His fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling with the violent storm of emotions that churned inside him. He could feel it, the helplessness clawing at his chest, the bitter realization that his brother, the one who had stood by him when no one else would, was lost to them. The loss was unbearable. It was an ache that sliced through his bones, leaving him empty, furious, and -- worst of all -- broken.

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Something inside him, something primal and ancient, surged to the surface. It was an instinct -- one that told him to move.

Without thinking, Niklaus spun on his heel, his gaze searching the cavernous room for something, anything, that might offer him a sliver of hope. His eyes fell upon a shadowed corner of the cave, half-hidden by the flickering shadows of the hearth. There, propped up against the wall, was a weapon.

It was a jagged blade -- a crude, but lethal weapon fashioned from a donkey's jawbone. His heart skipped a beat as memories flooded his mind. It had been a gift from their father to Vali. The moment Mikael had given it to him, it had been a moment of pride for the boy, but also an unspoken moment of defiance.

Vali had insisted on it. He had always said that he wanted a donkey's jawbone, not just for the sake of its brutal aesthetic, but because of the dreams that had plagued him -- dreams of battle, of conquest, of something greater than anything he could grasp at that time.

Dreams that no one, least of all their mother, had wished to indulge. Esther had called them foolish, an omen of destruction. She had said nothing good would come from his obsessions, his strange, dark dreams.

But their father, in his infinite pride, had indulged Vali, agreeing to have the bone carved into a blade.

Niklaus could still hear their arguments. Vali had begged, argued, demanded the weapon that would carry him to greatness, and Mikael -- stubborn and proud -- had finally relented. The blade had become an extension of Vali. It had been his primary weapon, the one he always carried with him, no matter where he went or how far he had come.

Even in battle, even in war, it had been the donkey's jawbone that had been Vali's trusted companion. Only after years of Mikael's insistence had Vali reluctantly accepted a more practical weapon -- a battle axe -- but even then, he never went anywhere without the jawbone blade tucked into his belt.

The memories rushed back, sharp and biting, and in that moment, Niklaus instincts guided him, allowing him to know exactly what he had to do.

He crossed the room in long, hurried strides, his hand closing around the jagged blade, the bone still warm to the touch from where it had been left. He stared at it for a moment, feeling a deep surge of loss and yearning.

His big brother, the one who had always defended him, who had fought by his side, was gone. And yet… this blade… this blade could be the key to bringing him back.

He ran his fingers along the rough edge of the bone, his heart pounding in his chest. Without thinking, he turned and walked toward the stone altar where Vali's body lay still and cold. His mind was flooded with desperation as he knelt beside his brother, placing the donkey's jawbone blade gently into Vali's right hand.

As the blade made contact with Vali's cold fingers, something strange and inexplicable happened.

The mark on Vali's arm -- the same one that had haunted their family for so many years, the mark their mother had always feared -- began to flare with an intense red light. The darkness that had once consumed it seemed to pulse with life again, the ancient curse that had marked Vali since birth stirring, awakening as if responding to the presence of the weapon that had been so dear to him.

Niklaus gasped, drawing his siblings attention. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched the red glow expand, its warmth spreading like fire through Vali's veins. The mark was alive. It was pulsing with power, and for the briefest moment, it felt as though Vali was reaching out, calling to him from beyond the grave.

A flicker of hope sparked inside Niklaus.

He stood slowly, his fingers trembling as he looked at his brother, at the life that was beginning to stir again. His emotions were overwhelming now -- grief, rage, fear, but above all, hope.

He looked to the heavens, his voice trembling but filled with the raw intensity of his heart.

"Vali," Niklaus whispered, though his voice quickly grew louder, more resolute. "I know we've had our differences. I know we fought, and I know you didn't always understand me. But damn it, you're my brother! You're my blood!

The one who always had my back when no one else did. You're the one who stood by me when they all turned away. You were the one who fought for me when no one else would."

His voice cracked, the grief threatening to drown him, but he fought it back. His eyes burned with tears that wouldn't fall, not now. Not when he was so close to having his brother back.

"You must come back, Vali," he growled, his voice full of the fierce conviction that had always driven him. "You cannot stay in the darkness. You cannot leave us like this. Death? Death is for cowards, and you were never a coward. You fought for life. You fought for us."

Niklaus felt the fire in his chest grow stronger as the mark continued to flare up, the pulsing heat in his brother's hand seeming to answer him. His body quivered with energy -- pure, untapped potential -- that surged through his veins like a storm.

"You are the one who taught me to never back down! You were the one who showed me that blood is thicker than anything else. So come back, Vali!" His voice broke at the end, the desperation and raw emotion crashing over him like a wave. "Come back for us. For me. You're not done yet, big brother. You can't be!"

For a moment, nothing happened.

The room was silent, and the fire crackled softly in the hearth, as if mocking him. But then --just then -- the mark flared brighter. A pulse of energy seemed to ignite through the blade, and Niklaus took a deep breath, his chest heaving.

Was it working? Was this the moment? Could this truly be the turning point?

Niklaus's heart surged with anticipation. This wasn't the end. Not for Vali. Not yet.

And so, to everyone's shock, even Esther, Mikael and the Ancestral spirits who had stopped when they began hearing Klaus's words, Vali's eyes shot open,

Pure black.

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(Author note: Well hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Vali is now finally an Original Vampire/Knight of Hell Hybrid!

Past life memories will be back next chapter, baby!

The First Blade he'll have, but it isn't yet complete, so don't get your hopes too much up. The Blade is a physical object so it can be stolen, but it can't be used by anyone but him, because its power is from him, from his Mark.

So, tell me, how did you find the revelations this chapter? 

How do you find Mikael and Esther?

Do please tell me, the more engagement you show by commenting and reviewing the more I will want to write chapters faster.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)