The Boy King's Journey in TVD/TO As A Mikaelson

The air within Castle de Martel was charged with an electric tension as midnight approached. Shadows deepened in the corridors, and the winter moon hung like a silent sentinel over the ancient stones. The time had come for the ritual that had been whispered about in hushed tones and fearful glances.

In the crypt beneath the eastern tower, the scholars moved with an eerie precision, their robes trailing behind them like shadows of their own. Ancient symbols, drawn in blood, glowed faintly on the stone floor, pulsing in tandem with the arcane energy that filled the room.

Tristan stood at the center, his eyes alight with fervor. He believed this ritual would elevate his family, grant them power beyond measure. Aurora, her movements guided by subtle memory manipulation, stood beside him, her expression a mix of fear and resignation.

From the shadows, Vali and Klaus observed, their presence hidden but senses heightened. Elijah and Kol, positioned strategically near the crypt's entrances, were ready to intercept any attempt at escape. The tension in the air was palpable, every second ticking down to the moment of truth.

The scholars began their incantations, their voices rising and falling in a haunting cadence. The air vibrated with their power, and the artifacts around the crypt resonated with an ancient song that set Vali's mark alight.

Klaus's gaze was fixed on Aurora, his heart pounding in time with the ritual's rhythm. He knew his moment was approaching -- the time to act the desperate lover, to create the distraction that would allow Vali and the others to strike.

"Tristan," Aurora's voice wavered, breaking through the chanting. "Are you sure about this? The power they promise... it feels wrong."

Tristan's eyes met hers, filled with zeal and a hint of something darker. "This is our destiny, sister. Our family's legacy. We were chosen for this."

"But at what cost?" Aurora's voice was barely a whisper, a plea that cut through the ritual's intensity.

The scholars continued their incantations, the energy building to a crescendo. Klaus felt the pull of his own emotions, the urge to protect Aurora battling with the knowledge of what needed to be done.

"Stay strong," Vali's voice was a low murmur beside him, a reminder of their shared purpose. "The moment is nearly here."

As the ritual reached its peak, the symbols on the floor blazed with light, and the air crackled with raw power. Klaus knew it was time. He stepped forward, his voice ringing out with desperate urgency.

"Aurora!" he called, his tone layered with genuine concern. "This isn't you. They're using you for their own ends."

The scholars' chanting faltered, their attention momentarily diverted by Klaus's unexpected intrusion. It was the opening Vali had been waiting for.

With a nod to Elijah and Kol, he signaled the attack. The brothers moved with supernatural speed, their presence a sudden force of nature within the crypt. Elijah's diplomacy gave way to lethal precision, while Kol's curiosity transformed into deadly intent.

The scholars, caught off guard, struggled to maintain their hold on the ritual's power. But even as they fought back, the ancient energy they had unleashed began to spiral out of control.

"Fools!" one of the scholars spat, deflecting an attack from Elijah. "You cannot stop what has already begun!"

"The blood of the de Martels is the key!" another scholar hissed, parrying Kol's strike. "Their sacrifice will awaken the power we seek!"

Klaus's rage boiled over as he fought his way toward Aurora, who stood frozen, her eyes pleading with him. But before he could reach her, one of the scholars bound both siblings with a spell, drawing blades across their wrists and necks.

"No!" Klaus's voice was a roar of fury and desperation, his eyes blazing with golden light. But the scholars' magic held him back, the ritual's power acting as both shield and sword.

The blood of the de Martel siblings mingled on the stone floor, fueling the ritual's dark energy. The air shimmered with supernatural force as the scholars redoubled their efforts, chanting with renewed fervor.

A surge of power erupted from the symbols on the floor, and surprising all, it headed towards Vali.

'What is going on?' Vali thought with frantic worry, as the blinding light charged towards him, he only pushing it back with the darkness of the Mark. 

"Vali!" Elijah roared as the light pierced through the darkness, to the shock of all and eveloped the demon in blinding light, as he roared.

In an instant, the crypt was transformed into a maelstrom of light and shadow. The scholars' voices rose to a fevered pitch, their incantations weaving a web of ancient power that crackled through the air. 

Klaus's heart clenched as he watched his brother disappear into the radiance. The sight of the de Martel siblings bleeding on the floor, their lifeblood fueling the ritual, only heightened his desperation. He fought against the magic that held him back, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity.

"Stay focused!" Kol shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. "We can't let them complete the ritual!"

But even as Klaus and the others struggled to regain control, the scholars pressed on, their eyes alight with a fanatic zeal. The blood of the de Martels was the key, flowing in rivulets across the stone floor, feeding the ritual's insatiable hunger.

And then, in the heart of the light, Vali found himself standing in a vast, empty expanse that seemed to stretch into infinity. It was a place that was the very definition of silence, a place where the laws of the universe seemed... bendable.

Before him, he recognized in shock stood Silas, in his true form, the perfect reflection of Stefan Salvatore from the future. He stood there, just a small distance between them, his presence commanding, his eyes filled with the weight of centuries.

"Welcome, Prince of Darkness," Silas intoned, his voice, even though with his close, still echoing as if from a great distance. "We have much to discuss, you and I."

The mark on Vali's arm pulsed with a dark anticipation, the challenge it craved standing before him in the form of the first immortal. The game they had all been playing was about to take on a new dimension, one that could reshape the balance of power itself.

The crypt's turmoil faded into the background, leaving only Vali and Silas in their ethereal confrontation. The true nature of the ritual, the scholars' machinations, and the fate of the de Martels all hung in the balance as Vali prepared to face his greatest challenge yet.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the short chapter!

I know it isn't long, but I'm kind of busy today, and this part felt like it deserved its own chapter, no matter how short, and so here we are.

So, it seems like Silas knows Vali, how? 

Prince of Darkness? Why is Vali called that? Any ideas?

Do please tell, the more engagement you show, the more I like to write this fic, because, a very big reason I write is because I like engaging with you guys.

Well, I hope you enjoyed, do please comment and review, 

And I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)