By dawn, Mystic Falls had grown still again. I walked the streets, threads whispering beneath my fingertips. They led me to the edge of the forest, to a place that hummed with a history too deep to name.
Then I felt it. Another presence. Older. Colder. The threads quivered violently, as if the forest itself held its breath.
Klaus had arrived. Not stepping into town yet, but close enough to disturb every hidden balance. I didn't need to see him. I felt him—ancient, patient, dangerous.
I let my awareness stretch, threads brushing the edges of his aura. Not to confront. Not to attack. To measure.
The moment he noticed me, he didn't move to strike. That was… unusual. Most creatures, even the Originals, responded immediately to an equal. He studied, assessed. Every move calculated.
I stepped forward, deliberately slow. The threads around him pulsed with each heartbeat, subtle yet insistent. He paused. Let the threads speak. Let me speak.
"You're aware of the debts," he said finally. Voice low, deliberate. Not a threat. Observation.
"Yes," I replied. Calm. "And I intend to settle them—on my terms."
A pause. Then the faintest smirk touched his lips. "Interesting," he said. "Most would rush. Most would falter. You… wait. You control your power."
I inclined my head slightly. "Power isn't always the same as dominance. But dominance… is necessary."
The forest held its breath. Birds dared not stir. Even the threads, alive and reactive, pulsed in quiet deference.
Klaus studied me one last moment before retreating slightly, a silent acknowledgment. His respect—or perhaps caution—was subtle, but it was there.
I exhaled softly, letting the tension release. Mystic Falls was dangerous. But tonight, it had remembered me. And so had the Originals.