Esther Mikaelson stood in the doorway of her home, staring at the skeletal figure who had accompanied her children through the forest.
She was a witch. She had seen strange things in her life—spirits and visions, curses and blessings. But she had never seen anything like this.
"Ainz Ooal Gown," the creature said, inclining its head. "Your sons tell me you are a witch of considerable power. I would speak with you, if you will permit it."
Behind her, Mikael emerged with an axe in his hand. "Esther, get back. I'll kill this abomination—"
"No." Esther's voice was sharp. She had seen the way her children clustered around this creature—not in fear, but in something like trust. Henrik clung to its robes. Klaus stood at its side as if waiting for orders. Even wary Elijah seemed calm.
"Mikael, put the axe down. This... being saved our sons."
Mikael hesitated, then lowered the weapon. But his eyes never left Ainz.
Esther stepped forward. "Come inside. We have much to discuss."
---
The conversation lasted until dawn.
Ainz told them—carefully, selectively—about his origins. A world beyond this one, a great tomb filled with his followers, a magical accident that had transported him here. He did not mention the true nature of Nazarick, or the power of his guardians, or the wealth that lay hidden in its depths. He spoke only of loneliness and loss and the desire to find his way home.
Esther listened, and she believed.
She told him about the wolves. About the curse that transformed men into beasts during the full moon. About the children she had lost to their savagery over the years. About her fear that Henrik, her youngest, would be next.
"There must be a way to protect them," she said. "A spell, a ritual—something that would make them safe."
Ainz was silent for a long moment. Then: "There is a spell. A transformation. It would make them immortal—unable to die by any natural means. They would be faster, stronger, harder to kill than any werewolf. But there would be costs."
Esther leaned forward. "What costs?"
"They would no longer be entirely human. They would require blood to survive—animal blood, at first, but the hunger would grow. And they would be bound to me, in a sense. My magic would be the foundation of their immortality."
Mikael, who had been listening from the corner, spoke for the first time. "Bound to you? You mean you would control them?"
"I mean they would be connected to me." Ainz's crimson eyes met Mikael's glare without flinching. "I would be able to sense them, to find them, to know when they are in danger. I would not control them. I have no interest in slaves. But I would be... aware of them. Always."
Esther looked at her children. At Henrik, sleeping peacefully on the floor. At Klaus, watching the conversation with sharp, intelligent eyes. At Elijah, who met her gaze with quiet trust. At Finn, who clung to Rebekah in the corner.
"I will do whatever is necessary," she said.
Ainz nodded slowly. "Then we must prepare. The ritual will require ingredients—powerful ones. And it will require blood. Mine and theirs."