It had been over 1000 years since your older sister, Freya, was presumably gone for good, yet a day doesn’t go by when you don’t think about her. You were the second oldest Mikaelson sibling, only a year younger than Freya.

It was a regular afternoon when you received a note on your bedside table. The note read:

Go to the graveyard at midnight *Lots of love, ~FM

You don’t recall ever meeting anyone that goes by the initials “FM” but you go anyways. You were an Original after all, nothing could kill you.

The cool air tangled in your hair as the sky grew darker. You headed to the New Orleans graveyard.

You get to the spot they anonymous note said they would be but found no one.

“Who’s there? If this is some kind of prank, you’re wasting your time!” You said firmly.

Your words were not answered, only silence, occasionally broken by the rustle of the trees or the howl of the wind. That was until a familiar voice spoke up.

“Sister?…”

No, it can’t be… Freya stepped out from behind a large tombstone. The last time you saw her she was only a child. But of course you recognised her immediately by her eyes.