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It was unthinkable.

Nevertheless, here she was, thinking about it with feverish desperation as the safe familiarity of home had now taken a deadly turn. Their crystalline lake, once azure and clear as the morning sky, now stood clouded and murky as something foul churned within its depths. It had always been cursed - this much Valeska knew - serving as an impromptu portal from any number of worlds that chose to dump their unwanted denizens into this sprawling land of Mythris, but it had never turned malicious.

Now it was killing them.

As one of the few reliable sources of water close by, this was a major problem. Now the pack was forced to walk far beyond their usual route just for a drink, or else suffer the immediate consequences of daring to take a sip from the lake - but what was worse, they felt pulled toward it, as if they needed it. No matter how the acid burned their mouths and throats, regardless of how many patches of fur were singed away by its acidic effects, they wanted it.

Valeska remembered the Dream Visitor's words and shuddered.

At any rate, it seemed appropriate to call a meeting.

Sending up one of the most garbled, half-choked howls she'd ever managed (owing to the burns in her throat), she waited at the Eye of Houtu for any and all who might gather there.

She cleared her throat, rallied as best she could, and began.

I do not know how many others received this, she rasped painfully, But - a wolf came to me - in a dream. He spoke of a doom long past, and a doom that may return again. Although we are not descendants of those who brought about the first...

What would you even call it?

... Tragedy...

It sounded flat, but her mind was addled and her lips parched. All she could think about was taking another agonizing drink from the poisoned lake.

It seemed we are being punished all the same. The gods are angry with us, and so we must work together to appease their wrath. The dream-wolf spoke of a magic that corrupted the first wolves of this place, this Mythris, and how they fell to its power.

She took a sharp breath and hissed as a searing pain scorched her airway.

He also spoke of something called Runes that we must seek out. Somehow, they are connected in such a way that they will stave off this extinction, should all be found - but we must try.

Valeska felt her chest tighten as the words she dreaded to say were at last forced from her mouth. Fate's Respite had been home for almost as long as she could remember - barring the first year and a half of her life, she had always lived in an iteration of the Respite. It was as intrinsically connected with her as was her own mate; it followed her across worlds, manifested in every realm as faithfully as the sun rose each morning.

It was Elysium's home.

I know it is unsafe here, she said, and her voice wavered as she fought the tears that threatened to spill. Plagues have begun to ravage Mythris, and we... we have fallen to one of them. For the wellbeing of all in Elysium, I encourage you, disperse to our allies. Dawnbreak lies close to the west, and further beyond, the wolves of Northfall, she continued.

Our last interaction with Avon was... difficult, but should you not find the refuge you seek west, they are also close by. Fable did not seem the sort to turn down someone in need, Valeska said.

Now I ask you - all of you -

Her expression turned gravely serious.

Seek out these Runes the Dream Wolf spoke of.

Whatever they were, these mystic objects were their only chance at survival.

I will stay behind - at least for a little while. If the plague worsens, then I, too, shall journey west to our allies, she went on. But as it is now, go with my blessing. We will find a way, and one day, when the waters have cleared and the threat has passed, we shall return home.

Home.

How like Dimas she was in the end, she thought wryly. The Mikaelson's roots went deep, and they were hard-pressed to leave that which they loved.