The Originals/Underworld: The Elder Mikaelson

Norway, 976 AD

The clash of wooden swords echoed through the morning air as eight-year-old Magnus led Finn through a series of defensive forms. At four, Finn already showed the serious demeanor that would define him, matching his eldest brother's intensity with unwavering focus.

Two-year-old Elijah watched from nearby, his dark eyes tracking every movement with remarkable comprehension. He sat with perfect posture, unusual for a child his age, occasionally mimicking the movements with his small hands.

"Keep your guard up, Finn," Magnus instructed, his violet eyes catching every detail of his brother's form. "Remember what Father taught us - a warrior's defense protects not just himself, but those who depend on him."

Mikael observed from the edge of the training area, pride evident in his bearing. His eldest son had taken to teaching his brothers with a natural skill that surprised even him. Magnus had a way of turning every lesson into something more than mere combat training.

"Again," Magnus called out, adjusting Finn's stance with gentle precision. "But this time, remember why we fight. It's not about the sword, it's about what we protect."

A small sound drew everyone's attention. Elijah had stood up, his tiny frame straight as an arrow, and was perfectly mimicking Magnus's stance. Despite his age, there wasn't a trace of childish wobble in his posture.

Magnus lowered his practice sword, a warm smile crossing his features. "Come here, little brother."

Elijah approached with dignified steps that made him seem older than his years. Magnus knelt down, producing a smaller wooden sword he had carved himself. The care and detail in the toy weapon spoke of hours of dedicated work.

"This is yours now," Magnus said, holding the sword out to Elijah. "Not for fighting yet - you're still too young. But to learn the forms, to understand the weight of it."

Before handing over the sword, Magnus held out his forearm. Without hesitation, Elijah grasped it with his small hand, their foreheads touching in the family gesture that had become second nature to all of them. Only then did Magnus present him with the sword.

Mikael stepped forward, his presence drawing all eyes. "You coddle him, Magnus. I was not so gentle in your training."

"Different warriors require different paths, Father," Magnus replied, his tone respectful but firm. "Elijah has a warrior's heart already - what he needs now is guidance, not force."

Mikael considered this, studying how Elijah held the wooden sword with natural grace. "Perhaps you see something I do not," he conceded, a rare admission that made Magnus's words carry even more weight.

Later that afternoon, Magnus sat with his brothers near the forest edge, using the quiet moment to impart different kinds of lessons. "Honor," he explained to them, "is not just about fighting. It's about keeping your word, about protecting those who cannot protect themselves."

Finn listened with solemn attention while Elijah seemed to absorb every word as if they were precious gems to be treasured. Magnus looked at them both, seeing glimpses of the men they could become - would become, if he had any say in the matter.

"Family above all," Magnus continued, his voice carrying the weight of prophecy though his brothers were too young to recognize it as such. "But family is not just about blood. It's about choice, about standing together no matter what storms come."

From nearby, Esther watched this interaction with complex emotions playing across her face. She had noticed how Magnus seemed to be molding his brothers, especially Elijah, with purpose that went beyond simple brotherly affection. There was intent behind his teachings, as if he were preparing them for something only he could see coming.

As evening approached, Mikael found Magnus alone, practicing advanced forms that seemed impossibly complex for his eight-year-old body to execute.

"You train them differently than I trained you," Mikael observed, though there was no criticism in his tone.

Magnus paused, turning to face his father. "Each blade must be forged according to its nature," he replied. "Force the metal too hard, too fast, and it becomes brittle. Guide it properly, and it becomes unbreakable."

Mikael clasped his son's forearm, their foreheads touching as Magnus's words settled between them. "When did you become so wise, my son?"

"I learned from the best, Father," Magnus replied with a small smile. "And I simply want my brothers to have the same advantage."

That night, as the family gathered around the hearth, Magnus watched his brothers with careful consideration. Finn sat straight and vigilant, while Elijah leaned against Magnus's side, still holding the wooden sword with reverent care. The foundation was being laid, piece by piece, for a future different from the one he remembered.