Chapter Two:Plotting & Scheming
Sept. 14th, 1993
They say on the day of my birth, a new comet mysteriously blessed the world. No one knows where it came from, and instead of the usual red or white hue, it left an indigo-violet trail—something that puzzled astronomers, frightened the witches of the world, caused vampires to pause, and had werewolves frantically howl at the moon for whatever reason.
For Max, though, it was just another Tuesday. Literally. Look it up. September 14th, 1993 was a Tuesday. The irony is mildly amusing.
Maximus Alexander Bennett–Westphall was born to a Christina Westphall (a witch of noble Michigan origins), who came from a long line of capable witches and warlocks, and was the younger sister to Christopher Westphall, Kaleb Westphall's father, and one a Marcus Bennett (a rare but powerful warlock of the Bennett lineage), the younger nephew of Sheila Bennett. (He was the son of Sheila's brother.)
Long story short, Marcus Bennett and Christina Westphall were in an arranged marriage, handpicked to be together from before they were even born by their more powerful coven elders of both covens. Thankfully, they were a healthy couple who worked well together, thank the gods. And they were very decent parents too, and quite wealthy, as both were descended from main branches of the covens' leaderships. Christina was 3rd in line to take over the Westphall coven leadership, and Marcus, though a main-branch Bennett, was born a male, and in the Bennett coven, males weren't known to become coven leaders over their female counterparts. Still, Marcus received the royal treatment anyway by right of kinship, so he was better off financially than the everyday witch or warlock.
By 1 years old, Max was already crawling, and 2 months after that, he was walking. At three, he could speak the English language as fluently as he could in his last life. He could read and write by 4 and was taking homeschool lessons in Spanish, Latin, Greek, French, Creole, Aramaic and Czech before I even turned 5, and by 5 years old, he was fluent in Latin, French and Spanish, with entry-level knowledge of the other four languages.
At 5 years old, in 1998, Marcus moved to Mystic Falls with Max and Christina. It was supposed to be a visit with his aunt Sheila, but it quickly turned into drama with the Gilberts.
At this point, Max had realized that the events from canon were already starting. 'I suppose Abby and Marcus used their magic to re-apply the sealing on the Tomb Vampires' prison and something involving the Gilberts' daughter, Elena, being a doppelganger or something.
Honestly, though he wrote down the events of canon in his grimoire, Max wasn't the best at remembering everything from canon. He likely forgot quite a few of those events.
Still, the result of the ordeal was… unfortunate.
Christina, who helped put a protection spell on Elena that night, had later died alongside Elena's father. Max himself was distraught a bit — Not exactly grieving, more like great emotional turmoil that he buried deep, deep down inside himself. He avoided these emotions, not accepting of them, repulsed even, but they were there, no matter how much he wanted them gone.
Marcus dealt with his wife's death in a way that was typical of a noble workaholic — he delved deep in his works, avoiding Max like the plague in the process, even despite having the funds to survive two lifetimes without work.
But Max didn't care too much, though. His absence led to more time for Max to study his craft, experiment, and practice his powers and spells. He couldn't phase quite yet — he was too young, despite being surrounded by magic.
His Westphall tutor, from the Westphall family that his mother had assigned to him since he was four to teach him and give him the Westphall education, made sure he knew everything about Westphall magics and the covens' histories, especially after his mother's death, which made him 3rd in line to become leader of the Westphall coven, right behind the grandson of the current head, Kaleb Westphall.
Max had been having both magic lessons and his scholastic academic studies with Miss Aubrey Westphall (who hails from a branched-off lineage of Westphalls) since he was 4. He hardly had time to practice Adaptive Magic, but from what time he did have time for, he used properly. Even after his mother's death and his father's withdrawal.
By 8 years old, Max was efficient in Earth magic, Traditional magic, and Elemental magic. By 9, he taught himself Hoodoo magic and, as a Westphall descendant, learned Elemental and Traditional magic, mastering both.
At 10, Max began diving into Adaptive Magic, specifically Logomancy, which was the type of magic homo-magi like Zatara of DC Comics practiced, and Psychic Magic and Mending(both are from the Magicians universe).
Because his dad hardly visited, Max often hung out with himself or Bonnie and her crew growing up. He made excellent friends with Tyler and Donovan, but his best friend was Jeremy, mostly, because he was a silent guy and kept to his own, which was something that Max understood and respected. It was a healthy friendship, likely the the strongest Max had ever had —- in both lives.
The two were an artistic duo, with Jeremy and Max often competing in drawing one-offs with he other. Or Max defending Jeremy from bullies at the playground.
At a young age, Max unsealed Aunt Sheila's spell-binding of his cousin, Bonnie's magic, in a way that was both discreet and deliberate, allowing Max to teach Bonnie about her magic potential sooner than in canon.
He'd be damned if he let her die so many times just because of lack of experience, lack of power, or some mixture of both. No, his cousin was not about to suffer Julie Plec's messed-up fate for her. Absolutely not. It won't do at all.
"Wow… so that's magic," Bonnie said, eyes wide in awe at the floating feathers on her bed. "And…I can do this?"
"Of course. Just don't let Grams know. I'm not sure if she'd be happy with me after learning I undid her binding on you," Max grinned in mischief. "Repeat after me: Motus."
"Motus!" Bonnie raised both hands above her own pile of feathers, laughing gleefully as they floated like clouds. "Wow!"
At the age of 12, Max retrieved Emily's grimoire from Giuseppe Salvatore's grave, and that same night he performed an upgraded ritual to claim the power of a hundred dead witches. Except, unlike Bonnie, Max used both spirit magic and Logomancy to slowly but surely assimilate their power into himself.
It took 6 months to fully and properly process the assimilation, assimilating the souls of a hundred dead witches, but Max was determined to be prepared to defend his family by the time the Salvatores returned to town and all hell broke loose.
Eventually, Max was able to assimilate the souls and harness their magic as his own.
'When Bonnie did this, she was going solely off souls alone, not necessarily assimilating that power; more like borrowing it from the essences of the witches' souls themselves,' Max thought the night after fully assimilating them. 'That was why it was killing her. The power was borrowed, not her own. By assimilating the souls, I am claiming their power as my own.'
That nightly walk home was quite eventful, though.
As Max strolled through the woods behind the Lockwood estate, he used a cloaking spell to sneak into Lockwood property, making his way to the Lockwood's Well.
'According to the show, the moonstone lay located here, buried under vervain-filled water, and after using a mix of Representational Magic and Earth Magic on a locator spell, stating a regular incantation that cursed rock should definitely be here,' Max thought to himself, hands outstretched, tree-deep in focus until he found what he was looking for. When he did, he chanted "Motus."
Near instantaneously, the moonstone floated up out of the water and landed in the palm of his hand.
"Good," Max thought aloud. "With this, I can control the Mikaelson arc enough to protect my family and friends.'
As he was turning to leave, his psychic senses screamed "Danger!"
Ducking swiftly, Max felt the air vibrate above him as a fist punched the air where his heart had been just moments before.
"Witch! Give me the stone!" the vampire, whose arm had just tried to rip out his heart, said, sneering. "Give it to me, and I'll let you live."
Max, silently observing the owner of the outstretched hand, merely gave a singular thought: 'Ezeerf!'
Near instantly, the vampire was frozen in ice, unable to move even a muscle except for their eyes, which were darting around in panic.
"You took on a Bennett witch by yourself—Or, you tried to, at least," Max circled around the vampire, studiously. "You won't be making it back to wherever you're from alive, mate, but don't feel bad. Of all the Bennetts you could've challenged… I am, by far, the worst."
"Eulobsia Noitargetsif!" Max chanted, and right before his eyes, the vampire began disintegrating until there was not even an icy trace of him.
When all of it was gone, Max put a long-distance observation spell on the well, intent on knowing who wants to get the stone so that he knew who to be aware of.
Eyeing said stone afterwards, Max thought to himself, "The Mikaelsons are the only really, mildly threatening group to be wary of, but they are a danger nonetheless, especially Klaus. Maybe the vampires of New Orleans too, but I'll worry about that when I intend to go up that way. There's also Malivore, the Gods, and the Triad, but I still have just over a decade to prepare for them, so I'm not too worried them right now.
"Still, preparation is key. If I prepare properly, I can control the narrative. I don't want to change too much from canon. That said, I have to rescue Kol from his fate and Kai from his ownself.
Sigh.
"So much to do and such little time," Max sighed. "Well, I should get home. Miss Aubrey hates it when I'm out too late."
"Emoh em HpoeleT!"
Max was instantly teleported home.
With so many plans already cooking, all he needed was to wait for his plots and schemes to flower, and then all he worked for will be his to bare.