1722, New Orleans
The Crescent City was barely four years old, still more swamp than metropolis, but already its streets pulsed with secrets. The French Quarter's narrow alleys echoed with laughter, music, and the whispered rumors of things that moved by night. Sagar thrived in this new world—a city built on the edge of civilization, where rules were made to be broken and every shadow promised a new adventure.
He had quickly become a fixture in New Orleans' underworld, his wealth and connections opening doors in every direction. The Continental's staff treated him with a mixture of awe and trepidation; even the most hardened criminals deferred to his whims, never quite sure if he was a patron, a rival, or something altogether stranger.
Secret Fun with Rebekah
Despite his growing influence, it was his secret meetings with Rebekah Mikaelson that Sagar found most intoxicating. Their arrangement was simple: no promises, no expectations, just the thrill of stolen moments and the freedom to be themselves. Sometimes they met at the Continental, slipping into a private suite after midnight. Other times, it was a hidden alcove in the gardens of the Mikaelson estate, or a carriage ride through the misty streets, laughter muffled by the city's endless music.
For Rebekah, these encounters were a revelation. Sagar's touch was both familiar and wild, his conversation a dance of wit and daring. With him, she could shed the weight of her family's legacy and simply exist—desired, delighted, and free. She relished the secrecy, the way their eyes would meet across a crowded room and a single glance would promise a night of adventure.
One evening, as a storm rattled the shutters of the Continental, Sagar and Rebekah found themselves alone in a candlelit suite. Rain drummed against the windows, drowning out the world beyond. They played cards for secrets, each confession drawing them closer. When Sagar lost a hand, he leaned in and whispered a centuries-old spell in her ear, making the candle flames dance in impossible colors. When Rebekah lost, she dared him to steal a kiss in the Mikaelson ballroom the next time they met—mask or no mask.
Their laughter mingled with the thunder, and for a few precious hours, nothing existed but the two of them and the promise of more.
Sagar's Influence Grows
Outside their private world, Sagar's presence was felt everywhere. He brokered truces between rival vampire clans, whispered advice to voodoo queens, and ensured the Continental remained neutral ground for all supernatural dealings. He was seen at every important gathering—masked balls, clandestine rituals, and midnight duels—always watching, always smiling, always a step ahead.
Rumors spread quickly in New Orleans: some said Sagar was a prince from a forgotten land, others claimed he was a spirit bound to the city itself. The truth, as always, was more complicated and far more dangerous.
The City of Legends
By 1722, New Orleans had already become a magnet for the supernatural. Tales of vampires prowling the French Quarter, witches casting spells in candlelit rooms, and shapeshifters haunting the bayous were whispered in every tavern and market12. Sagar moved through these stories like a living legend, his own myth growing with each passing night.
But for all his power and influence, it was the secret, stolen fun with Rebekah that kept him coming back. In her, he found a kindred spirit—someone who understood the thrill of chaos and the comfort of being truly seen.
And as the city grew, so did their legend: two shadows moving through the night, rewriting the rules of New Orleans, one secret at a time.