Chapter Text
The sparrows chirped softly as Evangeline Ysabelle Devereaux Leroux gathered her things, before heading towards Lafayette Cemetery where the French Quarter Coven were.
Candles were lit as she moved to stand beside her older brother, Remy and her sister, Sylvie as they saw the three Elders of the French Quarter Coven began to speak.
"To be reborn, we must sacrifice.
Do you have faith in the Harvest?" Bastianna Natale asked calmly, her blue eyes regarding the four young girls that had been chosen by the Ancestors.
"Yes!" They answered faithfully, Bastianna nodded and was about to call Cassie to be first, when they heard screams and saw a witch being fed on by a young beautiful woman with olive skin and dark brown eyes. She had thick dark brown hair, that was straight, and her fangs were out.
It was the man next to her that made Bastianna's blood run cold.
Silas......but how?
"So, this is the Harvest Ritual?" The man asked curiously, his face cold and cruel as he regarded the four young girls who looked at him fearfully.
Evangeline looked on anxiously, seeing her mother standing beside Agnes with a concerned expression on her face.
"What do you want, vampire?" Elise Leroux Deveraux asked coldly, the man laughed and exposed his teeth to the crowd.
"Your power! Travelers, attack!" He ordered, and the Travelers began attacking the witches in the cemetery.
Screams, shouts and shrieks of pain could be heard as she ran towards Davina and Monique who were both screaming and clinging to each other as Cassie was drained dry by a vampire.
"Run! Sophie, get Davina and Monique out of here!" Evangeline screamed desperately, she was trying to reach her cousins but there were too many vampires.
Then she saw that woman speed over to Davina, and rip into her neck, dragging her away from a terrified and sobbing Monique.
"Davina, no!"
Evangeline's ears pounded, her pulse echoing inside them, and her thoughts were so scattered, she felt it against her head. She hated this feeling, the panic and chaos, but despite it all, she had to focus, somehow.
Davina was gone. There was nothing she could do about that, but she was a witch. She could do something.
Her eyes closed, and her lips began whispering a chant to the only spell she knew that might help in this situation. A protection spell would protect her, but for how long? Her attackers were powerful, and clearly her for more power, so that made Monique their next target.
If they couldn't find her, they couldn't take her, and Evangeline had gotten quite skilled with cloaking spells. Her mother, an Elder of the coven, struggled to undo them sometimes, and in the panic and chaos of the moment, no one stood a chance.
With Monique cloaked, Evangeline took her chance. She raced towards her cousin, a sobbing and horrified mess, and she pulled her from the ground. One glance around, she saw Cousin Jane-Anne, saw her fear as Monique disappeared, but she couldn't let that stop her.
The surprise of the attack was over, and the witches were fighting back. Evangeline knew she could help, but she was more help to Monique. With Silas and the Travelers searching for the last girl of the Harvest, they could fight back, and Evangeline could simply run away.
She got out of the cemetery. She ran far away, with Monique right on her tail. Monique knew Evangeline was skilled with cloaking, and she could piece it all together, despite the horror that was consuming her.
Evangeline didn't know what might happen if she ran, but it was all she knew to do. The Harvest was something the coven had to do, in order to ensure the link to the power of the Ancestors remained, and a lot of the truths of the Harvest had been kept secret, from even Evangeline. All she knew was that her cousins would sleep, that they would be awoken again at the Reaping. She didn't know how long it would take to wake them up, or how they might sleep, but what did it matter now?
Davina was dead. Three of the four Harvest girls, all dead…...
She couldn't think about the future right now. She couldn't think about the consequences of everything that was going on. All she could focus on was getting Monique somewhere safe.
Where was safe anymore?
'The Lycée, none of them know about that place aside from the coven,' Evangeline decided and led Monique to the back of the cemetery as they quickly hurried into the building.
"Evie, who were those people! How did they know magic?" Monique asked fearfully, her eyes red from crying and seeing three of her friends being butchered brutally and fed on.
"They're Travelers, Monique and that man with them......he was once their leader. His name is Silas, now you need to stay here while I go look for the others. I'll be back as soon as I can." Evangeline promised, refusing to break down.
Her cousin needed her, as did the rest of their family. She couldn’t break down now, she refused to.
Monique nodded, and watched as Evangeline performed a protection ward spell and hugged her tightly before watching her cousin leave the Lycée. Her mother, aunt and cousins had to be alright...…they just had to be safe. They couldn't be dead.
Evangeline raced back to the cemetery, her boots hitting the floor as she hurried to the area and saw her father, mother, brother and sister along with their two cousins safely unharmed.
The same couldn't be said for Bastianna, Anya Dubois, and Bianca Laveau who were all lying on the floor dead in pools of blood.
She walked towards where Davina was, and only then did she let a few tears slide down her cheeks. She and Davina had been best friends since they'd been children, they were cousins and were like sisters in everything but blood.
Now, her cousin was dead on the cold ground.
"Evangeline, is....is Monique safe?" Jane - Anne asked quietly, her voice shaking from the horror that they'd witnessed.
"Monique is safe, she's in the Lycée and I placed protections wards around the house, so no vampires can enter it." Evangeline explained comfortingly, Jane - Anne hugged her tightly as it was Katie Laveau who spoke up.
"What do we do now? The Harvest Ritual hasn't been completed, because of those......monsters. The Reaping is in three days," Katie said anxiously, causing the members of the coven to look worried.
"We have Monique, but we need three more girls." Elise said finally, her red hair blowing in the wind.
Evangeline hesitated, not wanting to speak out of turn, but she couldn't get the thought out of her head. 'Me!'
She knew what being one of the Harvest girls meant. She knew that it was one of the highest honours in her coven, and she didn't want to just throw herself out there to take it. There were others, right?
"What about Sylvie?" Evangeline asked. All she wanted was a way to get things moving, to progress the conversation forward, because right now, they had to figure out three more Harvest girls.
Everyone was surprised to hear her speak up, to hear her take this kind of initiative, but only those who didn't know Evangeline all that well were surprised to hear her suggest her sister.
"I'm not the right age, Evangeline," Sylvie said, but a light pink rose to her cheeks. The very idea that she could be a Harvest girl, at the age of nineteen, was beyond her, but it was exactly what she needed. Life wasn't about competing with her perfect little sister, who could practically look at a spell and master it by her second try, but it wouldn't hurt to have that edge, the title "Harvest girl."
"At this point, any woman of any age will do." Tears brimmed the rims of Elise's eyes, and she glanced towards both of her daughters.
She wasn't the only one who remained that knew what the Harvest really was, and the very idea that both of her daughters would be a part of it . . . she was both delighted and scared. The mother in her would hurt, to see what they would go through to be sacrificed, but the proud French Quarter witch in her would overcome all of that, in the end. "I would like to offer both of my daughters."
Elise wasn't the only Elder who remained, so it wasn't up to her to decide. Bastianna was dead, but Agnes remained.
Agnes' dark eyes shifted, moving to find the two girls offered up, and her lips pressed. She didn't say anything, as this was something that she and the Elders needed to discuss alone, but she wasn't opposed to the idea.
Another woman stepped forward, a soft voice who didn't speak out at gatherings very often. She wasn't a member of the most powerful families of the French Quarter Coven, so her voice wouldn't have carried much weight. Times were urgent, and people were desperate.
"My daughter, Violette, is also an option."
Evangeline knew the voice of Celine Malchance, and she knew Violette well. They had gone to school together, graduated in the same class, and they weren't friends per say, but Violette was kind to her. She would initiate conversations with Evangeline from time to time, and that was important to the girl who couldn't initiate them herself.
Others began speaking out, naming their daughters as options—one whose daughter had barely even turned three—but the Elders cut them all off and simply left to convene in private, to discuss the matter further.
Evangeline could feel the pain of the moment creeping in. Why had she come back here? 'To save your family.'
The bodies of the dead were still just laying there, in pools of their own blood, but she couldn't look away from her best friend, no matter how badly she wanted to see anything else.
With the panic over, with the Harvest being restarted in some way, it felt as if her heart was shattering from inside her ribcage. The pieces felt like shards of glass, slicing her apart from the inside out, and it hurt. She wanted to scream, to cry, but right now . . . she couldn't do that, could she?
It didn't matter to her what she had to do, what she was supposed to do. Right now, she didn't have to be strong and ignore the body of her lifeless friend.
She stepped over to Davina and slid out of her jacket. It wasn't enough to fully cover her, but it could cover her lifeless face, the gaping wound in her throat.
The shards were still tearing, but through the open wounds inside of her, there was fire, a fire unfamiliar to Evangeline. Davina was dead . . . she was dead, and they-they had killed her.
For what? What did they gain? More power?
No. She wouldn't allow it.
She didn't know how, didn't know when, but one day, she would find the power to take them down for what they had done. She didn't care who they were, what they were. If it was the last thing she ever did, she would make them pay for this.
It would be for all of the fallen, but more than all of them, it would be for Davina. She was sixteen years old, had her entire life ahead of her, but that was stripped away, by monsters craving power.
Evangeline would show them power. Somehow, she would get enough power, and she would show them the power they sought—only to then use it to destroy them, one by one.
Their faces were a bit of a blur, but she'd remember. She'd replay the memory over and over again if she had to, to both remind herself of each face and to remember every single bit of pain she felt the second the vampire sank her teeth into Elena's throat.
It wasn't much longer after that moment that the two remaining Elders approached, their minds already made up.
Elise stepped forward, gathering the attention of any around. "Tonight, we will consecrate the ones we've lost. Tomorrow, we will mourn, but tomorrow night, the Harvest will continue as planned."
Agnes moved to stand next to Elise, to show that they were a united front on this decision, which could prove to be controversial. "Monique Deveraux will hold her place as the Harvest Girl of the Earth. The Harvest Girl of the Water will be Sylvie Deveraux. Violette Malchance will be the Harvest Girl of the Air, and the Harvest Girl of the Fire will be Evangeline Deveraux."
Evangeline hadn't really thought much about being a Harvest girl, other than it was an honour she never thought she would be given. She always tried to be the best witch she could be, studying any new spells she could find, but that didn't mean she deserved to be a Harvest girl.
She wanted that for Sylvie and Monique, however. She had wanted that honour for Davina.
Now she would have to take it, in her place, and use it to avenge her name in any way that she could.
Those Travelers song with that demon woman, would regret crossing the Devereaux family and killing a Claire witch. Enough was enough, she going to bring hell onto these people who had murdered her cousin.
She didn't care if she had to team up with the vampires, which also meant Marcel Gerard.
She and Sylvie prepared Davina's body for burial, while Remy, their cousins and their father prepared the Claire tomb for their cousins and only maternal cousin from the Claire line. Aside from Clara and Louise, Charlotte, Will, and James.
Sylvie laid Davina out on the Claire family crypt, feeling tears burn her eyes as she and Evangeline put blessed water over Davina's body to bless her soul into the Ancestral Plane.
Evangeline didn't stop the few tears escaping her eyes, she was distraught at what had happened and Monique lit candles as she squeezed her best friend's hand tightly.
"I'm sorry, Davina. We'll make this right, I promise." Monique whispered shakily, distressed and Jane - Anne wrapped an arm around her daughter protectively.
If Evangeline hadn't placed that cloaking spell over Monique, her daughter would have died as well.
Remy placed white rose petals over Davina's body, shaken and saddened over the death of his youngest cousin. Davina had been the only child, and the Devereaux/Leroux family saw her as a sister and daughter.
"Davina Claire joins the Ancestors in the Ancestral Plane, please take care of her and embrace her." Elise chanted softly, the torches flickering brightly.
Marcel Gerard knew something was off, when Remy Devereaux entered Rousseau's, the man had dark brown hair and wore dark clothing but had on a black leather jacket.
"I need to speak to you, Marcel and to your family." Remy said carefully, his tone neutral. It was acknowledged by the French Quarter Coven that if they had any hope of bringing down the Travelers and Silas as well.
They needed allies.
Marcel looked at the dark-haired man curiously, he resembled his father who Marcel considered a good friend. Despite the tensions between the witches, werewolves and vampires, Marcel wanted them to get along or at least be civil.
"What's this about, Remy?" He asked wearily, getting him a drink and Remy looked at the glass of bourbon silently for a while before he decided to speak.
"When we were at the cemetery preparing for the Harvest Ritual, we were attacked by a female vampire, and Travellers. They killed three of the Harvest girls, one of whom who was my cousin, Davina Claire. We need your help, along with the rest of the vampires and the.... Mikaelsons." Remy explained patiently, knowing that this humiliated his Coven having to ask the Original vampires for help.
Marcel was silent as he looked at Remy, and sighed reluctantly.
"Fine, I'll get the Mikaelsons here. God knows, what will happen though when they arrive." Marcel said finally, he knew Klaus would not be pleased, his adoptive father did not take kindly to people threatening him or his family, which included Marcel.
Evangeline felt numb, they'd consecrated Bastianna, Davina, Cassie and Abigail and now she could only hope that her cousin and her friends had found peace with the Ancestors. She missed Davina so much, she was a year older than Davina and missed her cousin deeply as she looked at the family crypts.
The Claire line was now extinct through the paternal line, Davina's father Quentin Claire had been killed by werewolves two years ago and Evangeline's mother was the only Claire/Leroux witch along with her surviving brothers, Evan and Henri, Abelard, Christopher, Jason, and Roy and her mother’s only surviving sisters Adelaine and Diane.
Aunt Alice and their grandfather, Henri Leroux had died four years ago in a freak car accident. Then there was Remy, Sylvie, and Evangeline of course, but Davina had been the last Claire, the last one to carry their maternal grandfather's name.
The Elders had decided the day was to be spent mourning, to prepare for the Harvest ritual once again, but Evangeline was already prepared. She would mourn for more than just a day.
After a shower, after brushing through her hair and putting on her best white dress, Evangeline was ready for whatever the night had to offer.
If they were going to get revenge for what they had done, they had to find allies, powerful ones. Remy had already spoken with the vampires, had already convinced Marcel to bring the Mikaelsons to town any way that he could, but there had to be more.
Evangeline went to the place she was most comfortable, the place she spent pretty much all of her free time. It was a library, full of old family grimoires and history. The French Quarter Coven was proud of their history, but Evangeline didn't know a coven that wasn't.
She didn't really know what spells she was looking for, but the more she knew, the more useful she might become.
After picking the first grimoire, one that she hadn't actually gotten a chance to look through at all, Evangeline made her way over to her favourite chair. Draping her legs over the side, she prepared herself to get deep into the grimoire, but life was life, and plans didn't always go accordingly.
At the sight of her mother, she almost closed the grimoire, but she hesitated. She needed to learn as much as she could, after all. If she was going to be a Harvest girl, if she was going to make that Silas man and the vampire woman with him pay, she was going to do whatever it took, even if it meant long nights and longer days.
Elise found a reason to smile, at the sight of her daughter's dedication alone. If anyone deserved to be a Harvest girl, it was Evangeline, and Sylvie as well. Sylvie didn't like how easily magic and spells came to Evangeline, but she worked hard to be the best she could be as well.
"You should be resting."
"What does resting do, Mom?" Evangeline closed her grimoire, but she tucked a finger between the pages, to ensure she could open it right back. "It doesn't bring Davina back, and it doesn't make those people pay for all the lives lost senselessly."
"I know." Elise stepped closer to her daughter, with the intentions of taking the grimoire from her hands. "There's something I need to speak with you about. It's about tonight."
Evangeline didn't like her mother taking the grimoire from her hands, but she knew she need to pay attention, to whatever tonight might bring.
She sat up in the chair properly, smoothing the skirt of her knee length dress, and she straightened her shoulders. "What is it?"
"Agnes and I have been contacting the Ancestors today. After the consecration of all those we lost, when everyone came home to mourn, we stayed behind."
Evangeline had noticed this, but it was common for the Elders to have more work to do than the others. Agnes and her mother were all that was left, so she wondered if maybe they were deciding on more Elders, to ensure no one else died.
"We asked them for a weapon, something we could use against Silas and any of those who dare threaten our coven again." Elise cleared her throat. "Their answer was clear. They will use the Harvest give us what we need, as long as you are properly prepared before."
"What?" Evangeline couldn't process this right now, or maybe she couldn't have processed it without all the chaos of her painful emotions. "What do you mean?"
"The Ancestors chose you, Evangeline," Elise said again. "They want to use you to be a weapon to stand against any who might try and bring us harm."
Evangeline could see the tears forming in her eyes from the idea that the Ancestors had heard her cries in the night, heard her pleas that they grant her the power to be strong enough, but this wasn't the time for them. Using the back of her palms, she wiped the tears away and nodded. "Whatever I need to do."
Elise smiled and grabbed onto both of her daughter's hands, to bring her to her feet. "There is still time before we need even you to show up, but I wanted to tell you personally that the Ancestors chose you."
"Why?"
Elise brushed a thumb across her daughter's soft cheeks. "Because there isn't a more dedicated witch than you."
"Sylvie," Evangeline pointed out, knowing her sister would definitely want the honour of being the Ancestor's chosen weapon. "Sylvie would probably be a better one than me anyways."
Elise couldn't understand her daughter's insistence on putting everyone else first, on not seeing the strong woman and witch that she was, but maybe that was why the Ancestors chose her, for the personality that came along with her.
"I didn't make this choice myself, sweetheart," Elise reminded her. "The Ancestors chose you, not Sylvie. Not Monique, and not Violette. They chose you."
Evangeline struggled to wrap her head around that, but she accepted it. It was what she needed and wanted, after all. She wanted to be strong enough.
The Ancestors were going to help make sure that she could be, through whatever means they wanted.
Elise knew her daughter didn't need to know the truth of what was going on. If she knew, she might be afraid, but she didn't want her to be afraid of what she would become. After awakening at the Reaping, she wanted her daughter to be strong, to be ready for the road ahead.
There wasn't time for fear.
She swallowed and took in a few deep breaths, before she nodded at her mother who smiled at her and hugged her tightly for a minute.
Elise was very proud of her children, husband, siblings and cousins for their fierce dedication to the French Quarter Coven. The Leroux line went back to the 1700's, and had past dealings with the Mikaelson family, although one time it hadn't ended well.
Sebastien, her husband had become more careful with magic since the death of his older sister, Brynne Devereaux who had committed suicide by drowning herself in the Mississippi River.
Her husband hadn't coped well with his sister's death, the coven had been distraught and horrified by Brynne's suicide and many believed it was the death of her beloved husband, James that had caused her to reach breaking point.
They would destroy the Travellers, and that vampire woman even if it did mean allying with the vampires and werewolves.
Desperate times, call for desperate measures.
Sylvie calmly walked down to the bayou, where the Labonair, Dumas and Kenner packs roamed along with the North East Atlantic Pack that were said to reside in the bayou.
She sighed heavily, she never thought that this would happen of all things in her life. She had been chosen to be the Harvest Witch of Water and was deeply honoured by the Ancestors and the Elders for choosing her.
She loved her siblings, cousins and parents as she felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of Davina now dead. Sylvie had known Davina since she was a baby, and her death hurt her badly.
"Witch, what are you doing here?" A voice asked wearily, and she looked up to see it was the werewolf that she'd heard about from Hayley Marshall, the one that taught the 'old ways.'
Ansel.
"I am here to speak with the leaders of the Dumas, Labonair, Kenner and North East Atlantic, and the Lescheres Packs. Are you one of them?" She asked calmly, summoning her magic.
The man regarded her suspiciously, but he put his bow away and looked at her intently.
"You're a Deveraux, aren't you?" He asked suspiciously, the young woman nodded, and he relaxed slightly.
"I'm Ansel Paxon, the pack leader of the North East Atlantic Pack." The man said finally, causing her to look at him.
This was the father of Niklaus Mikaelson, the Original Vampire/Werewolf Hybrid to walk the Earth.