**Chapter 3: Shadows of Retribution**

The darkness outside seemed to press in on them, a physical manifestation of the threats that lurked in the shadows. Elijah's eyes never left Klaus's face as he sat vigil, his mind racing with strategies to counter the witches' next move. Rebekah and Marcel worked in silence, their movements efficient as they tended to Klaus's wounds. As the hours ticked by, Elijah's thoughts turned to the journals he had given the witches. He had hoped that it would be enough to satisfy their demands, but now he wondered if it had been a grave mistake. The journals contained secrets and histories that could be used against them, secrets that had been kept hidden for centuries. Marcel, sensing Elijah's unease, approached him quietly. "We did what we had to do, Elijah," he said, his voice low. "We can't change the past now." Elijah nodded, his eyes never leaving Klaus's face. "I know," he said. "But I have a feeling this isn't over. Not by a long shot." Rebekah looked up from her work, her eyes meeting Elijah's. "We'll be ready," she said, her voice firm. "We'll protect each other, no matter what." As if on cue, Klaus stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "What...what happened?" he asked, his voice groggy. Elijah smiled, relief washing over him. "You're safe, little brother," he said. "You're home." Klaus's gaze drifted around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. "The witches..." he said, his voice growing stronger. Rebekah nodded. "They're still out there," she said. "But we'll deal with them. We always do." Klaus's eyes locked onto Elijah's, a fierce determination burning within them. "I want to be part of it," he said, his voice firm. "I want to help take them down." Elijah's face softened, his heart swelling with pride. "You'll be part of it, Klaus," he said. "But for now, you need to rest. We can't afford to have you weakened." Klaus nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can rest later," he said. "I want to help now." As Klaus struggled to sit up, Elijah gently pushed him back onto the couch. "No, Klaus," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You need to heal. We'll handle this." The room fell silent, the only sound the quiet ticking of a clock on the mantle. Outside, the shadows seemed to grow longer, darker, as if they themselves were watching and waiting. And then, without warning, the door creaked open, a figure standing in the entrance. Elijah's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he took in the newcomer. It was Esther, her face pale and drawn, her eyes haunted. "I've come to warn you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The witches are not what you think they are. They're not just simple practitioners of magic. They're...they're something more." Elijah's eyes locked onto Esther's, a sense of foreboding settling over him. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low. Esther took a step forward, her eyes darting around the room as if she feared being overheard. "They're being manipulated," she said. "By someone...or something...from the outside. Something ancient and powerful." The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows deepening as Elijah's mind reeled with the implications. What could be powerful enough to manipulate the witches? And what did it want with the Mikaelson family?