the legacy of A Past Life

Silence fell heavily in Alaric's classroom, broken only by the distant echo of students' voices echoing off the stone walls. MG stepped back, his bright eyes still wide, the red tinge draining from them as he shook his head. "Dr. Saltzman, he's not being compelled," he said, his voice shaking with confusion. "This has never happened before." Alaric froze, his brown eyes narrowing as he stared at Landon, who was breathing fast, panic written all over his face. Hope stepped forward, her auburn hair falling in soft waves in the light, her face hard with a mixture of shock and concern.

Ethan, still near the window, felt the fighting flame burn in his heterochromatic eyes. "What are you, Kirby?" Alaric asked, his deep voice cutting through the air like a blade, rising from the chair with a creak of leather. "No human can resist a vampire like that. What are you hiding?"

Landon threw up his hands, his green eyes wide. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he snapped, his voice rising with desperation. "I'm just… me! I didn't do anything to make this not work!"

"He's telling the truth, Alaric," Hope interjected, her tone firm but supportive. She stepped between Landon and Alaric, her leather bracelet brushing against his dark coat. "I know him. He's not lying. There's no point in hurting him over something he doesn't even understand."

"Hurt?" Ethan snapped, turning from the window, his fists clenched. "You just tried to put his head out, and now what? You're going to make him disappear?" The fighting flame flared, the buzzing in his bones vibrating as if in response to anger. He stared at Hope, those sharp blue eyes still stirring something inside him, but now he was more angry than intrigued.

Alaric ignored Ethan, his eyes fixed on Landon. "If he can't be compelled, he's a liability," he said, his voice hardening. "We don't know what he is, and he saw Rafael transform and he's just a normal human, he can't know anything." He walked around the table, the rune knife gleaming in the light, and pointed it at MG. "Knock him out. We'll take him to the dungeon until I figure this out."

"Pass out?" Landon exclaimed, backing away until he hit the chair. "You're kidding, right? I didn't do anything!"

Hope stepped forward, her hand raised. "Alaric, this is crazy. He's not a threat—"

"It's protocol, Hope," Alaric cut in, his tone dry. "You stay here. Me and MG will handle this." He looked at MG. "Now."

MG hesitated, exchanging a quick glance with Hope, but nodded. "Sorry, man," he muttered, moving too fast for human eyes. Before Landon could react, MG grabbed his neck with precision, applying pressure to just the right spot. Landon's eyes widened, his hands coming up in panic, but within seconds his body went limp, falling unconscious in the vampire's arms.

Ethan stepped forward, anger exploding in his chest. "You guys are sick!" he shouted, his hoarse voice cutting through the air. "You take him down just like that? What about me? You're going to erase me too if I don't fit your rules?" He glared at Alaric, his eyes blazing, the buzzing in his bones pulsing louder, as if the boarding school sensed his fury.

Alaric took Landon from MG's arms, slinging him over his shoulder with ease. "You want answers, kid? Then just stand still and watch. This is bigger than you." He gestured to MG. "Let's go. To the dungeon." He gave Hope a hard look. "Stay with him," he said, nodding at Ethan before walking out with MG, the door slamming behind them.

Hope stood there, her fists clenched, her blue eyes burning with frustration. Ethan turned to her, the fighting flame still alive. "What was that all about?" he asked, his voice sharp as he took a step toward her. "You guys just take him down like he's nothing! He's your friend, right? Why did you let them do this?"

Hope stared at him, her eyes narrowing for a moment before softening. "I didn't let him," she said, her tone firm but heavy. "It was necessary. Alaric wouldn't stop, and Landon… he probably has vervain in his system. It's a plant that blocks vampire compulsion. He must have drunk or eaten something with it without knowing it." She crossed her arms, the leather bracelet brushing against her coat. "But it's not permanent. It'll be gone in a few hours. When it wears off, they'll hypnotize him into forgetting all this."

Ethan frowned, anger still burning, but now mixed with confusion. "Vervain? Hypnotize? You guys say that like it's normal," he said, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "What if he doesn't forget? Are they going to keep him locked up forever? What about me, huh? What happens to me in this asylum?"

Hope took a step closer, her blue eyes boring into his, an intensity that made the air feel heavy. "It's not a mental institution, Ethan. It's a school—for people like us. And yes, it's normal here. Landon will be fine, I'll make sure of that." She paused, her gaze hardening for a moment before she continued. "As for you…if you really are Clark's son, then you're the half-brother of my twin brother, Virgil. My mother, Hayley Marshall, had an affair with Clark a few hours before she got together with my father, Klaus, and that created me and Virgil. Two babies inside her, from different fathers. It's crazy, I know, but that's what happened."

Ethan froze, his heart racing, her words crashing against his mind like thunder. "Clark? Hayley Marshall? Two babies?" he repeated, his hoarse voice now thick with shock and disbelief. "You're saying your mother… I mean, what? That I'm your half-brother too? What madness is this?" He took a step back, his fists clenched, the buzzing in his bones vibrating louder as if responding to the chaos she'd just unleashed upon him.

Hope crossed her arms, her face softening but her eyes still sharp. "No, I'm not your half-sister. I'm Klaus' daughter, and my brother is Clark's son. You, if you're Clark's son, are only Virgil's half-brother on Clark's side. It's confusing, I know. My father told me bits and pieces of this story before he died, Clark, he left a lot of people who missed him behind wherever he is." 

In the dark hallways of the boarding school, Alaric and MG carried Landon down a stone staircase that creaked under their steps. The air grew colder, the smell of damp and old iron filling the space. They reached a reinforced door—the school's dungeon, a hidden corner for those who could not be controlled. Alaric shoved the door open, and MG dropped Landon onto the stone floor, the boy still out cold, his brown curls falling over his face.

"Keep an eye on the door," Alaric told MG, his voice firm. "No one is coming in or out until I get back." MG nodded hesitantly as Alaric closed the door with a metallic clang, the sound echoing down the hallway.