Chapter 27: The Ring That Burned
The ring lay on the table between Stefan and Damon, like a ghost neither of them wished to confront.
It glimmered with a faint silver sheen, catching the last strands of light from the glowing fireplace. It wasn't just a ring; it was all that remained of Alexander—his blood-soaked soul, condensed within a magical metal circle. The same ring that once pulsed with Ash's raw magic was now cold, dormant, lifeless.
Since Klaus had left, neither of them had dared to touch it.
Stefan sat silently staring at it, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers tightly interlocked. Damon paced the room, glass in hand, his mind lost in a sea of unspoken thoughts.
Stefan finally murmured, breaking the heavy silence:
"He said it might not be over."
Damon let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh.
"He said 'might.' The ring could just be a pathetic souvenir reminding us how badly we failed."
"You think Alexander would've agreed to leave it here? Just a ring on a table?"
"I think Alexander wouldn't want us risking a new war chasing a ghost."
Stefan's voice lowered, but remained firm:
"What if it's not a ghost? What if part of him… part of Ash, whatever they became… is still trapped inside it?"
Damon didn't answer. His silence spoke louder than words.
And as they both stared at the ring, something unexpected happened—
It pulsed.
Once. Weakly. Like the last heartbeat of a dying soul.
Stefan stood up immediately. Damon's glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor, but he didn't even glance at it.
The ring pulsed again.
A faint magical wave swept through the room, like a whisper carried by the wind. The fire flickered, and the overhead lights wavered.
Damon said, stunned:
"What the…
hell…?"
Without delay or hesitation, Stefan picked up his phone and made a call.
About ten minutes later—
Bonnie burst through the front door, breathless, her hair windswept from the storm outside.
"Did… did it pulse?"
The brothers turned toward her in astonishment.
"What's inside that ring… it didn't fully die."
Damon shot her a sharp look:
"What does that mean, Bonnie? Is Alexander… trapped?"
Bonnie approached the table cautiously.
"Maybe not all of him. Maybe just a part. A memory. Remnants of the entity he became after merging with Ash."
She held her hand over the ring, energy coursing through her fingertips.
In a soft voice, she said:
"Dormant… but not gone. Not yet."
Stefan stepped closer:
"Can we bring him back?"
Bonnie hesitated, then answered:
"That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"Depends on whether you're ready… to lose him again. I don't really know how this happened. I only have implausible theories. But then again, when have we ever dealt with the plausible…
Damn it—as we know, Alexander's soul was split. He and Ash became one, but his soul was… well, there's no accurate description, but—
Every human, every creature, their soul is bound to their body. But Alexander is completely different. His soul is cursed, split, strange. So it's not tied to his body, or to anything physical, really.
So my theory is that before dying, he transferred part of his soul into the ring. But like I said… are you ready to lose him again? This isn't simple. I might succeed—or his soul might vanish completely."
A deafening silence fell, heavier than any words.
Damon stepped forward now, something cold and fierce in his eyes:
"So, what do we have to do?"
Bonnie looked at them both and said:
"I need time. Books. Rituals. And something of Alexander's… something that mattered deeply to him."
Stefan narrowed his eyes, thinking:
"I might have something."
Bonnie placed the ring in a silken pouch, and glanced at them once more before leaving:
"I'll bring a few things and some books from my place…
And if there's a way to bring him—or part of him—back. I'll find it."
When Bonnie left, a new silence settled over the house—not the suffocating kind they had grown used to.
This one was different… it carried a breath of hope.
Stefan turned to Damon, who had bent down to pick up the shards of his broken glass.
"You think we're crazy for trying this?"
Damon answered quietly:
"I think we're desperate. But… desperation is all we've got left."
Outside, the storm continued to roar.
Inside, a new fire was on the verge of igniting.
And beneath a shattered ring… something stirred.
—
Stefan moved through the hallway, carrying a bag filled to the brim with ancient magical herbs, stolen spell books, and old talismans Caroline had helped him find through her contacts. Right behind him, Damon followed with confident strides, tossing a cracked vial into Bonnie's open kit bag, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.
He said:
"Mandrake root, doubled. Fresh werewolf blood. You said rare, right? I brought rarer."
Bonnie barely looked up from the symbols she was drawing on the floor.
"You mean… dangerous."
Damon grinned, his tone teasing but carrying an undercurrent of seriousness:
"Dangerous is what we do best."
Bonnie looked to Stefan, who nodded firmly.
He said:
"We brought everything. Even the necklace Alexander always wore. We found it in his room… thought it might help. Also, I dug up his journals—we buried them before, but you said to bring something personal. So I brought everything."
Bonnie carefully took the necklace. Then picked up the journals.
She whispered:
"This is good… smart thinking."
From the kitchen, Matt Donovan appeared, carrying several glass jars in his arms.
He grumbled:
"Okay, this has officially gotten weird—even for me. What's graveyard dirt anyway? And why do I have to dig it up again?"
Bonnie gave him a distracted nod of thanks, not looking up:
"You're doing great, Matt. Just place it on the table."
Matt muttered as he walked past:
"Next time someone wants to resurrect a cursed half-demon hybrid… send me a warning first."
Caroline stormed in like a whirlwind, vampire-speed, holding two thick, leather-bound books in her hands:
"Well, I got spell books from three witches who really didn't want to let them go. One of them tried to bite me, so you owe me a nail spa day, Bonnie."
Bonnie gave her a tired smile, genuine:
"You guys are amazing… truly."
Stefan helped her arrange the books inside the ritual circle. Damon stood at the window, watching the heavy clouds gather on the horizon, his narrowed eyes full of unease.
He said in a low voice:
"This calm… it's suspicious. I don't like it."
Caroline asked:
"You mean the peace? The quiet?"
He replied, still staring at the grey sky:
"No. I mean Kol."
As soon as his name was spoken, it was like the room dropped a few degrees.
Kol Mikaelson… he was the storm that always lurked behind every silence.
Bonnie finished drawing the final symbol, then stood, her hands slightly trembling from the energy she was drawing from the world around her.
She clarified:
"This spell isn't to raise the dead… it's to call back a soul, if it wants to return."
Stefan asked softly:
"And if it doesn't want to?"
Bonnie's silence was answer enough.
Everyone stilled. One quiet moment in which everything came together—a house full of warriors, broken lovers, and friends who had buried enough names for a lifetime.
Then Bonnie nodded and said:
"Let's begin."
The lights dimmed. Candles lit up, casting dancing shadows on the walls like ancient ghosts called back to life.
The circle was drawn. The ingredients placed with care. The necklace was set at the center of the spell.
Bonnie raised her hands—
But suddenly—
Her phone buzzed.
Everyone jumped. Bonnie blinked quickly and snatched the phone from the table.
She read the message… and her face paled.
Damon was beside her in an instant:
"What is it?"
She swallowed hard and looked at the brothers:
"It's Elijah."
Stefan took the phone and read aloud:
"Kol is coming back… and he's not coming to talk. He's coming for war."
A heavy silence fell, thick as storm clouds, choking the breath.
Caroline backed toward the door, her voice tight, edge trembling:
"Then… we don't have much time."
"How many do you think Kol's bringing?"
Damon answered, voice gravelly, laced with threat:
"Enough to turn this into hell."
Bonnie looked again at the glowing necklace in the center of the circle. And the journals.
And in that moment, they all realized the truth:
They had one chance.
One soul.
One storm nearing its peak… and another on its way.
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