A golden light beckoned her to open her eyes.
She fought against the pull that was trying to drag her under, and took a deep breath.
She sat up slowly, only to realize she was spread on something soft and plump.

One look around had her surrounded with large pouches of flour; or at least what she assumed was flour.
The white powder didn't seem appealing at all but she felt all too weak to stand up on her own.

A groan sounded behind her and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. MG was just sitting up as well and seemed as clueless as her.

''What just happened?'' he asked, but she found that she genuinely didn't know.

They weren't in her room anymore, that much she was sure of, but she couldn't quite figure out what had gone wrong with the spell.

Slowly, she lifted herself up on wobbly legs and looked around.
The light that had awaken her was coming from a single street lamp above their heads.
The dim glow barely illuminated the whole alley, but there was no mistaking it -they were standing between two large buildings.

What she found more upsetting than anything else, though, was the fact that it was nighttime, as in very dark nighttime.

Hope hadn't cast a look at her watch before casting the spell, but then she did, and she could see the hour hand set stiffly on the two.
Two in the afternoon, after she'd had her classes. There was no way that it could be so dark out already.

She turned to MG after inspecting her surroundings and helped him stand to his feet.

''Thanks,'' he said, before his nose scrunched up, ''What's that smell?''
She couldn't smell anything peculiar, but his overdeveloped senses seemed to do the trick for him and he swore under his breath.
''Never mind; I'll breathe through my mouth.''

Hope nodded and looked around again, this time over MG's shoulder.
The narrow alleyway seemed to deepen on her side, but from where she stood, she could see another street lamp further away, gleaming down on a road.

''Where are we?'' MG asked again, but Hope was already walking past him. ''Hey! Wait up!''

He caught up with her and together they walked on the gravels, out of the alley and to the road. There was pavement on either side of this one but the road seemed similar to every one that Hope had seen so far; then why did it feel so different at the same time?

MG seemed to notice her unease and put his hands in his pockets. His phone was still intact and unscathed, although he wasn't entirely sure whether he'd fallen into the alley; it had simply felt numb and devoid of any gravity.

''No signal,'' he said as he typed away on the screen. His battery was low already but he doubted that Hope hid a phone in her skirt.
Speaking of which, she seemed eerily quiet.

''MG?'' she asked, glancing at both sides of the road but still, she remained stiff on the pavement.

''Yes?''

''Does... anything seem strange to you?'' she looked back to him as she said that, not really sure where she was going with it herself.

''You mean... other than the fact that we were in your room and suddenly... well, this ain't your room, Hope!''

''I-I know. It's just... look up. Those houses, they don't have cable.''

MG did as told but he didn't find a single parable perched on a roof.
That was an odd thing to notice, but he had no idea how cable worked these days.

''So?'' he shrugged, unable to see her point.

Glancing around, he caught the streetlight they were huddled under and his eyes narrowed.
The houses were not only cable-free, but they struck him as odd too, for some reason.

''This looks like-''
''An idyllic village.''

''Define idyllic. How the hell did we end up here?'' he looked back at her, but couldn't help the bad feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach.

''I don't know,'' Hope answered, still glancing around as if she thought something might charge toward them any moment, ''But I think it has something to do with Aion.''

''No crap. This is bad, man. What do we do then?''

Hope was about to answer, but as if summoned by their frantic thoughts, a car drove up the road and stopped before them.

They were the only ones there this late at night but when the car's headlights flickered, MG's eyes almost budged out of his head.

''Holy— that's a collector car!'' he waved his hands about but Hope couldn't bring herself to feel the same level of excitement.

The passenger door of the car was opened and a woman stared back at them. The clothes she wore had MG think she was headed to a party; but had Hope understand something entirely different.

Oh, crap.

''Do you know how to get to Phil's, please?'' The woman asked with a tilt of her head. Her short curls bounced to the side with her face but MG had to shake his head.

''Sorry, no. We don't even-''
Hope put her hand over his mouth, silencing him, before she turned back to the woman who waited, one hand on the door.

''Uh, sorry, but uh, it's been a rather... late night; do you mind telling us where we are?''

The woman nodded with a sly grin, sending a wink their way as she voiced her answer.
''Welcome to Fort Valley, lads!''

Hope nodded weakly, feeling her hand drop from MG's mouth.
Memories of Seylah Chelon, Landon's birth mother, flashed through her mind.

Next up was the memory of herself jumping off of a railing with Agent Clarke and straight into the Malivore pit.

Fort Valley, Georgia; where the headquarters of Triad Industries resided.

Hope felt a pang in her heart, but it was nowhere near as painful as the thoughts swirling in her brain.
Before she could stop herself, she voiced them.

''What year is it?'' her tone was quiet now, but the woman in the car all but laughed.

''How many drinks have you had?''
When neither of the two teenagers seemed to want to laugh along with her, she caught herself and drew a breath. ''It's 1934. February 12th, 1934.''

A heartbeat of silence passed, but at this point, Hope wasn't sure she was breathing at all.

''Monday,'' she added, as if it would ease the situation.

''Mandy,'' the driver began, ''We've got to go now if we don't want to be late.''

She nodded once and looked back at the pair as she closed the door.
''You two don't stay out too long, alright? It's below freezing. You'll catch your death.''

Neither could bring themselves to laugh at the irony.

Hope watched the car drive off while MG recovered quietly.

''Does that mean... we've travelled back in time?'' MG asked, unsure if that sounded quite right.

''I don't think there's room for other possibilities,'' Hope let out the breath she'd been holding all along. ''This wasn't supposed to happen. It was a simple foretelling spell.''

''Yeah... see-the-future-spell! What were you think- oh, what was I thinking, helping you?'' MG began to panic and bent over to brace himself on his knees.

''MG, will you calm down?''

''Calm down? Calm down! Are you kidding? Speak for yourself! I don't know if you're aware but the thirties aren't exactly the best decade to be black in America!''

''Relax,'' Hope repeated, raising a hand to murmur a calming spell. Memories of Agent Clarke flashed through her mind but she pushed them to the back. ''It's not like we actually plan on staying here. I'm sure Dr. Saltzman will figure something out.''

''He doesn't even know that we're here. That's thanks to you.''

''He'll figure it out.'' Hope promised as the butterfly flew out of her hand and up toward the moon.

The vampire's heartbeat started to calm down and he drew a shuddering breath.

''Sorry,'' he finally said, a hand over his heart, ''I guess we're both having a crappy day.''

''Don't worry about it.'' was all she answered.
She couldn't believe she'd dragged MG into this.

After looking both ways of the road, Hope crossed and beckoned him to follow her.
He did, and soon, the scenery began to change.
The farther they walked, the more houses they passed and left behind, until they eventually found themselves in a crowd.

The chatter was loud in the cramped space but they both managed to slip through.
A lone music air played in the background, but it was barely distinguishable among the people walking and dancing all around.

Spotting signs on the walls, they began to wander through the crowd and on the sides, passing store fronts after store fronts.

Finally, MG stopped her before what looked like a bar and they stepped in, careful not to draw any more unwanted attention.
Once sat at the farthest table from the counter, he began to speak.

''So... any bright ideas?'' he asked, leaning closer, so only she could hear.
They had gotten only one dirty look so far but he preferred to be careful. He'd learned his lesson about pushing his luck too far.

''Aion... he kind of... warned me, I guess. About time, I mean. He said that it was unbounded and fluid and-''
''And you didn't listen? Shocker.''

''MG, this is serious.''

''I know, I know.'' the vampire glanced around.
He was aware that dirty looks were a thing, however, half the bar didn't even seem concerned about their presence. It was as good as empty anyway.
''Hold on, though. Since I'm the anchor to your spell... does it mean we're trapped here?''

Although the percepective of having to live through an entire century to see his beloved again didn't sit right with him, he was much more concerned about Hope at the moment.

''Not necessarily,'' Hope answered, somehow convincingly enough. ''Magic always has a loophole. We just need to find it.''

''Great. How do we do that?''

''That's the thing. I'm not sure.''

''You're the witch.''

''MG, that's not helping.''

Hope was beyond mad.
A single second was all it had taken her to lose control over the spell.
A split moment during which she hadn't been paying attention.
This kind of things happened to basic witches, not to Mikaelsons!

''Okay,'' he groaned, casting another glance around, ''While we're at it though, I think we should try to blend in. We're drawing too much attention already.''

Hope looked over her shoulder, but the table staring at them turned their attention elsewhere upon being spotted.
She frowned when she turned back to MG and rose a questioning brow.

''What do you have in mind?''

He cast a look at her skirt and slowly brought his eyes back to her face. She'd have found the gesture odd if she didn't know just how much into Lizzie Saltzman he was.

''Clothes first, then we'll decide the... other things.''

Other things?

''Okay. You compel someone around and I'll-''
''Uh oh, Hope! I'm not going to steal!''

''You're a vampire. Compulsion can hardly be considered theft.''

''Still, I'd feel bad.''

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest.

''Can't you just do a quick spell to alter our appearance?''

Just like what she'd done to Clarke.
She wasn't positive that it would work without that illusion ring of his though.

She barely kept her focus one second and whispered under her breath.
When she looked up, MG's hair was slicked back but he still had on the same outfit.

''That's so stupid.''

''What?'' he asked, eyeing her new hairdo.
Very thirties and classy, albeit a little too short for her.
A deep crimson red harbored her lips as well, the color reminding him of blood. Despite those details, she remained the same.

''Either the spell drained me or I'm going soft. Either way, this is the best I can do.''

MG looked up at a mirror on the farthest wall and grinned.
''Hey, I look good.''

''MG, focus. If I really am drained, I might need some time to recover.''

''How long do you think?''

''A couple days at most. It wasn't a particularly tricky spell... at least not on paper.''

A few days was a long shot.
A lot of risks to take, which lowered their odds of going home.
But he was sure that Dr. Saltzman was going to find a way out of this for them. Surely, he was already looking up spells and summoning the entire student body to bring them back.

''Okay, then, we have to set up some rules.''

''Rules?''

''Yeah,'' he mused and brought his hands to the center of the table.
There was an ashtray that was already almost full, but he pushed it to the side to draw patterns on the wood. ''We can't take the risk of jeopardizing the future. The Butterfly Effect, Hope.''

''A butterfly flaps its wings in Chicago and a tornado occurs in Tokyo.'' she nodded.

''What? No, I was talking about Ashton Kutch— oh, that's where it came from.''

Before Hope could answer, a waitress came over to their table.

''You okay, hun? You haven't ordered anything yet.'' her eyes darted between Hope and MG and she visibly relaxed when he flashed her a smile.

''Hi, sorry. Yes, two glasses of water please.''

She eyed them both in a weird way but MG put a hand over his mouth and whispered something that only she could hear.
She let out a sharp bark of laughter and turned around with a nod.
As she walked away, Hope leaned over the table and put her head in her hands.

''You're going to mess up your curls.''

''They're not real, MG.''

''Still, they're dope.''

When she looked up, an exasperated sigh left her lips and she found her hand trembling.

''Look... this kind of magic... I've sort of... never done it before. Foretelling is one thing; traveling back in time... it's crazy! Even by our insane standards.''

MG cast a look around the room and let a sigh of his own fall from his lips.
''Looks like our insane standards just got a lot insaner.''

The waitress came back with their drinks and MG took a sip. Hope remained motionless in front of him, staring at the ashtray.

''Come on, could be worse. At least you're with me.''

She chuckled at that and leaned back slightly.
''Thank you for not hating me. I appreciate it.''

''You're welcome. To be fair, it's taking a lot of willpower out of me— ow! What did you hit me for?''

''You're annoying.''

''You know you love me,'' he grinned before his expression turned darker, ''On a more serious note though, no jeopardizing the future means no meeting anybody we might know...'' he let the thought trail off, but it was as clear as day.

''I know.'' she simply answered.

He considered her for a moment before he nodded and leaned back in his seat.

The atmosphere shifted and silence ensued, forcing Hope to look out the window in order to hide her brimming eyes.

Upon seeing it, her first thought was that her mind was playing tricks on her.
The tears that welled up in her eyes had to have something to do with the mirage standing outside, but when she blinked them back; it was still there.

The figure was walking with others, but he was so uniquely tall that he towered above the lot.

There was no mistaking his air of superiority and the sly smirk on his face; just like there was no mistaking that it was, irrevocably and undoubtedly, Agent Ryan Clarke.

The Holarke nation will be heard, Julie!