A year into the prison world, and Beatrix was surprised that she hadn't killed Kai more than thirty six times.

Granted, they were still even, but it was nice to know that they weren't at each other's throats so often anymore.

The first few months were terrible. They'd hotwired a car and gone driving around Portland, Oregon for days on end, getting food, clothes, and other pretty trinkets, ignoring the eclipse, and seeing what else could be of interest.

Every time they had returned to the house, even in separate bedrooms, some conflict always happened. Either Kai got angry at Beatrix for not shutting up about her stupid theories and plans, or Beatrix got infuriated that Kai was still being too disrespectful to cooperate.

The second time Kai had killed her, he'd caught her off guard and siphoned until she was unconscious. Then, he'd staked her into the wall. That had been three days in, because she had made the eggs 'wrong.'

The third time they killed each other, they'd orchestrated it as a competition. Kai had staked her to test how fast she could kill him before her body turned gray. He had not been expecting her to tear out his throat entirely just mere seconds before her collapse.

The fourth time, they had also planned it, to see how badly they could wreck the car they were using. The crash had killed Kai instantly, and Bea had died slowly when she got a wooden sign through her abdomen, and the splinters gradually went to her heart.

After that, it was much more random. They made it fun, despite both being aggravated that the other wouldn't cease surprising them with a murder plot. Yet, even with the excitement that came with not knowing when or how they'd be killed this time (Kai was still trying to cut her head off, since he was getting tired of always staking her), it was revolting and they both ended up ignoring each other for days at a time, sometimes weeks. At one point, a month nearly passed where they didn't speak to each other even though they remained in the same house.

But after the sixth month mark, when they were angry and lonely and bored out of their minds, about to go insane, they decided to get off their asses and just talk. So they did.

They learned quite a bit about each other, too. At first, it was mostly Beatrix talking, since she had lived longer. She told Kai about her mother's journal, which she had snippets of memorized, and about why she specifically was born a siphon.

It had been 1665 when Ixazaluoh was born. Her family resided near the Yucatán Peninsula, and were very distantly descended from the Mayas, who had vanished in the ninth century. Ixazaluoh's grandmother had received a vision from the gods in 1650 revealing this to them, and asking them to sacrifice any child born with magical powers in order to restore the Mayan civilization. When Ixa, as she liked to be called, was born, the elders began to plan the sacrifice, abandoning the Spanish they had been using and returning to the ancient Yucatec Maya dialect of which they had barely any records. For seventeen years, they prepared and created the proper ritual, waiting for the girl to mature, and allowing her to hone into her magic prior to the sacrifice.

The day Ixa turned seventeen, however, she had already formulated a plan. She knew she was powerful, and she had practiced enough to understand that she had a fighting chance. She did not want to die. She did not care that the sacrifice would bring blessings to the land, she did not care that the Mayan civilization could rise once more. All she knew was that she did not want to die, she did not want to be the sacrifice.

Thus, she called upon the same gods who had sent her grandmother a vision. She prayed to Chamer, one of gods of death who controlled the frightening afterlife realm of Xilbalba. She asked them to give her darker magic to help her escape. In return, she stated that when she died, she would be a sacrifice for them alone, in order to fuel the realm. Chamer accepted, but unbeknownst to Ixa, told the elders that Ixa was practicing dark magic. Thus, the sacrificial ritual was cancelled, and Ixa was exiled, cursed to never return to Yucatán. She was told that any child she bore would have devastating abilities and wreak havoc on the other nations. Ignoring them, Ixa set off, planning to make her way North.

Chamer, eager to collect the sacrifice she promised, sent the elders a message, stating that the sacrifice could still happen, but that they needed to hunt her and kill her as though she was a deer, before condemning her to Xilbalba for eternity. The elders gathered their hunters, and among them Ixa's father and brothers, to go find her and slaughter her, before returning her to the village.

Using the magic that Ixa had received from Chamer, she cloaked herself and set off onto a raft, beginning a very dangerous journey across the Gulf of México. That night, when the hunters returned empty handed, Chamer was furious, and killed off every last villager, taking them to Xibalba as replacement for losing a soul as powerful as Ixa.

For days, the young woman sailed, using her strength to draw the waves in her favor, and praying to the gods for forgiveness, as well as asking them to help her reach land in one piece. She finally arrived in what was just recently discovered as Louisiana, and was found by a French servant, who dragged her to a nearby residence. There, she met the French explorer René-Robert Cavelier Sieur de La Salle. He took a fancy to her because of her youth and the revelation that she was a witch. Ixa used her magic to grant herself the ability to speak in his same tongue, and introduced herself properly. Robert then gave her the name Soleil, meaning 'sun', as 'Ixazaluoh' was too complex for him to pronounce.

In mid-1683, Ixa, who now comfortably went by the name 'Soleil,' discovered she was pregnant with Robert's child. When she told him, however, he did not want it. He insisted she must have slept with another man. He wanted nothing to do with a 'mutt' of a child, who would be mixed race and likely be born a witch. He cast her away, not caring that Soleil murmured curses to him and his men under her breath.

In a fragile condition, Soleil went deep into the bayou, unable to practice any strong magic for fear of hurting the child growing inside her womb. She was found by several of the original Louisiana witches, who took her in and through spells, discovered that her child would be born at the beginning of the coming year. Soleil told them of her past in confidence, but the witches, realizing that the baby would be a dangerous being, tried to convince her to get rid of it. Soleil refused, and the witches pretended that instead, they had in mind to train the baby to use magic properly, and suppress any abilities that would pose as dangerous. This time, Soleil played along, but nearing the end of her pregnancy, disappeared without a trace. On March 27th, 1684, Soleil gave birth to a baby girl. She named her Itza, meaning sorceress of the water, as the bayou had protected them, and she knew her daughter would be strong.

Kai had been quite interested to learn of Beatrix's past. While she talked too much and it bothered him, he did like to hear the detail with which she spoke. She had described vague memories of her childhood (refraining from mentioning her birth name), how she and her mother had healed a baby crocodile, how they'd climbed trees and gathered fruits, and hidden whenever they heard voices.

"She was the one who chose my names for me," she mused one night before the fire they'd started in the shitty fireplace that the Parker household had. "She thought Beatrix La Salle would be a good name to fit into society. She was paranoid, which was understandable, and had written down other names I could use. Ianira Soleil- that's what I'm called in Europe and most of Asia. Araminta Rodríguez, for when I was in Africa and South America. Juliana Claire, for most of North America and the brief time I was in the Middle East. I think she had met a Claire witch at one point. The final name I used was decided for me by my best friend, Kol. When we traveled together, he had me be called Hilda Mikaelson. The surname definitely commanded more respect, and no one really dared come close all too often."

They'd been on month seven when Kai had pried further into that. "So... what's the deal with the Originals, then? How did you all meet?"

"I'm going in order, Kai, don't rush me."

After what they estimated to be Easter, once they had finally accepted the fact that they were trapped and didn't know how to get out yet, they had opened up more. Kai had told her about how neglected he'd felt, and how his sociopathic tendencies had come to light. He gave her some gorey details about how he killed his siblings. Sometimes, she'd let him rant, and he'd fantasize about how he'd kill the twins once they got out.

If they got out.

The day the one year mark hit, Beatrix baked a cake. Kai was highly displeased, but enjoyed the wicked red velvet, carrot, and ice cream monstrosity that Beatrix had put together. Not that it was disgusting, in fact, it was rather delicious, but as Kai so kindly put it, she 'couldn't decorate cakes for shit.' And, 'it looked like a botched liver.'

"So, one year," Kai mused, tapping his fingers together. "One year of... who knows how many. And you baked a terrible cake."

"I'd feel better if we could go on a killing spree, but there aren't any people here, are there?" Beatrix said, raising her eyebrow.

Kai would have definitely enjoyed that. Lately, he had been nice enough to give Beatrix some small amounts of blood every day, in a wine glass. Beatrix assumed he only did this to make sure she didn't feed on him and ruin yet another one of his shirts. The first months, she'd raided nearby hospitals and rationed the supply to what she needed. But Kai's blood tasted better because it was fresh, and at least it wasn't cold.

"Wait till we get out," said Kit, cracking his knuckles. "I'm going to get an axe and run it through so many people's heads..."

So far, the one thing they agreed on was that they would both very much like to kill the members of the Gemini Coven. Every last one of them.

That certainly made time pass easier after that. Motivation could go a very long way.

Beatrix lay back in her bed later than night, listening to Kai's snores from the adjacent room. He was very young to have so much anger, but then again, what did anyone expect, considering how they treated him and so many other siphoners?

Her own childhood wasn't much of a picnic. Between recalling that her mother taught her to speak Spanish, French, and English, Beatrix recalled that they just constantly lived in fear. It was worse when they discovered she was a siphon. Her mother had been alarmed that she wasn't showing signs of magic, and the overwhelming worry left her to take her temper out on her daughter. One night, Beatrix had accidentally broken a bowl that her mother had worked very hard to make by hand. Soleil had brought her hand down and smacked her, hard, but when the second blow was on its way, Beatrix caught her arm. A searing pain shot through Soleil as the little girl sucked out just a small fraction of her magic. Enough to make her stumble back.

That was when the stories began. Beatrix remembered only few of those, but they were mostly pleasant. Stories of how witches were powerful and important. Stories of the Mayan culture that Soleil had abandoned when she let go of the name Ixazaluoh.

Bouncing her eight year old daughter on her knee, one night in 1672, just before they were found, Soleil had told her about news she had heard when buying supplies. A very famous witch line- the Bennett witches- had successfully escaped Salem, Massachusetts, and survived the Salem Witch Trials. Soleil had whispered to her daughter to pray for them. Beatrix had asked if the Bennett witches would like someone like her. Soleil had not known the exact answer, but had told the little girl that they would definitely have tried to get to know her. But she had made sure to tell her, as well, that it didn't matter who accepted her and who didn't. Either way, one should never settle for less than what they deserve, and should never let anyone treat them as though they are unworthy.

"Come to think of it," mused Beatrix when she had told Kai that part of the story just a few days before. "I think she knew."

Kai raised a curious brow. "Knew? Knew what?"

"That we were going to get caught. I think she knew that I was sucking the magic out. I think she knew that she couldn't keep up the spell much longer- I was too strong. As soon as she refreshed it, I'd suck everything away. Eventually she must have stopped trying. She knew it was her time."

And it was. Soleil had been killed just days after their conversation about the Bennett witches. The Louisiana witches had killed her swiftly, and snatched up a sleeping Beatrix. They were going to kill her, but seeing her abilities the next day when she awoke, terrified and confused, they decided to wait, train her, and see if she could survive in the real world.

In the year 1700, when Beatrix turned sixteen, the witches put all her training to the test. They had chanted until she was in a deep slumber, and had deposited her into an area of the bayou that she had never been in. They wondered if she could figure out how to make her way back, without magic of her own. If she could, then all the training would be worth it, and they would be able to teach her more complex magic. If she could not, she'd either die of natural causes, be killed by werewolves, or worse.

"I wasn't stupid," Beatrix said, making Kai roll his eyes as if he doubted her. "The earth is filled with magic, especially in Louisiana. Always remember that. If you are somewhere that has a history of supernatural occurrences, press your palm to the ground, and see what you feel. I guarantee it is worth a try. I was able to do a locator spell, siphoning from the dirt in the bayou. I made my way back to the witches within days, and they began to teach me more."

However, she had left them soon afterward. When she turned 18, she had left her things behind and slipped out, cloaking herself and going across the bayou, as far away as possible. She did not intend to use magic. She wanted to blend in, be human. She arrived in what would soon be known as New Orleans, where some settlements had already been perfected. She was taken in as a governess for one of the wealthier families. She taught their two young daughters to speak French properly, to learn about art, music, and literature. The witches, thankfully for her, had wanted a more well rounded education. Despite most of her music and literature revolving around old Creole writings and tunes, Beatrix had learned well, and adapted.

In 1703, she learned that the family housing her were of the Claire bloodline. They confronted Beatrix about her identity, and she was honest. They told her that they sensed a threat had just arrived in the city, and that something was afoot. They asked Beatrix to start teaching their daughters magic, wanting her to show them how to defend themselves. Beatrix agreed, feeling thankful that they hadn't shunned her away due to her siphon nature.

"They didn't cast you out?" Kai scoffed. "Looking like that, I would have kicked you to the curb immediately."

"For your information, there was no curb back then, just dirt roads. Besides, they were sensing something worse than whatever I could do. In late 1702, the Mikaelsons had just arrived. Granted, two of their siblings were in coffins at the time, but the Original trio consisting of Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah was plenty deadly without Kol's help."

Kai, who still didn't know enough about the Originals, gritted his teeth to refrain from snapping at her about how she still hadn't told him anything regarding the Mikaelsons.

Beatrix was taking her time. As bored as she was to be telling him her entire life story as if he was a psychologist, she wanted to pace herself. They had so many years left to speak. Why tell him everything right away?

In 1705, everything had changed. She had been learning from the Claire witch grimoires, and was teaching their daughters everything she knew up to that point. She was twenty-one, and had just begun to have a suitor as well, a young man from another wealthy family further up the road who truly sought to make her his bride. They had been seeing each other for a few weeks, when one night, after having gone dancing in the moonlight, they were attacked by a vampire.

It had been brutal. There was nothing Beatrix could have done to save her suitor. He was ripped apart, and all she had done was leap back with a horrified look on her face. She had never encountered another supernatural creature, she just knew of them. The vampire had turned to her, and begun to rip out her throat, but she had gripped its arm tightly, siphoning as much as she could. The vampire had wailed in pain, and fled, leaving her passed out beside the dead man.

They had been found much later, when Beatrix was losing her life already. Niklaus Mikaelson, having just finished a meal consisting of several peasants, found them, and listened to the weak but present heartbeat of the La Salle girl. He had approached her, and planned to finish her off. Tenderly, he had held her neck, tilting it to expose to him the pulsating jugular that was begging her heart to keep pumping blood. But she had been somewhat lucid. She had weakly grabbed his arm, siphoning so little that he barely realized it. But he felt it. A pinch, a small electric shock. He gazed down at her, her eyelids fluttering slightly, indicating she could sense he was there. He had not removed his arm, and she had had another go, succeeding in burning him a bit more this time. He had yanked it away from her, observing where her fingertips had just ceased glowing with a honey colored light. Staring at her, he brought his wrist to his mouth, a crunch sounding out into the empty street as he drew blood, and pushed it to her mouth. She did not drink, having passed out once more, so he coaxed it down, and slowly but surely, she began to heal. When her eyes opened, he cupped his face in her hands.

"You will forget you were here," he said simply, watching her pupils dilate, her eyelashes batting softly. "You will forget the man you were with. Forget me, forget the blood on your dress. Go home quickly, change, get rid of the stain, and go on with your life, as though you never met anyone tonight."

In a blur, he'd disappeared. Beatrix had forgotten instantly, and had gotten up as though nothing had happened, beginning to walk to the Claire household at a quickened pace. But she should have been more alert. The vampire had watched the exchange she'd had with Klaus, and had come from behind, snapping her neck, and feeding on her quickly, before dropping her body to the floor and leaving. Unbeknownst to her, Klaus had returned, and had set her down comfortably in an alleyway, preparing a carton of human blood for her.

When she awoke, she had absentmindedly drank from the carton. The memories flooded back, and alarmed, she had fled. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt a random person, or hurt the little girls she cared for.

And so Beatrix La Salle had disappeared from New Orleans before it was named as such. She forgot the witches, she forgot the Claires, she did not try to find Klaus Mikaelson. As far as she knew, she was no longer a witch.

How wrong she was.