𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐄 | KLAUS MIKAELSON

𝖳𝖶𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖸 𝖲𝖨𝖷

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟐, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐂
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"YOU WANT me to do what?"

Bonnie's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. With a wry smile, I pushed the book toward her. "Translate it," I requested.

Last night had been an exercise in frustration. I'd exhausted every online translator trying to crack that infernal last page, but it seemed even Google had thrown in the towel on this particular puzzle.

So, I turned to Bonnie, my final hope. She was a witch, and a witch long before I stumbled into the craft. Her knowledge surpassed mine by leagues. Perhaps she could untangle the meaning behind this foreign script.

We were seated at the Mystic Grill, the designated spot for our clandestine meetings. I'd summoned her here, hoping she could shed light on the enigma before us.

Bonnie examined the page, her curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar text. "So, you've uncovered something about your ancestry?" she ventured, finally tearing her gaze away from the page.

I nodded. "Yeah, but it's all still shrouded in mystery."

"I see. Did you got this book from Isobel's research office?" she asked, her interest clearly piqued.

I nodded once more, watching as Bonnie flipped through the pages of the book, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Definitely not Latin," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the unfamiliar symbols.

I leaned closer, squinting at the text. "You think you can crack it?" I asked, a glimmer of hope in my voice.

Bonnie glanced up at me, her expression thoughtful. "I can give it a shot, but it's going to take some time."

Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "No rush. I've got all the time in the world," I replied, sinking back into my seat.

"Actually," Bonnie interjected, "I'll take the book home with me and work on it there."

I cringed inwardly, feeling a pang of embarrassment. Why did I have to be so pushy? "Sure, no problem," I muttered, trying to play it cool.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to find a message from Elena.

From: Elena
Are you joining us for the opening of the new public park?

"Yeah, be there in five," I quickly texted back.

Today marked the Mystic Falls Historical Society Volunteer Day, and we had a slew of community service activities lined up, from planting trees to setting up the park. And where there was painting involved, you could always count on Everly Gilbert to lend a hand.

_____

Venturing to the town's shiny new public park, bustling with eager volunteers gearing up for the upcoming picnic, felt like stepping into a chaotic ant farm.

My assigned task? Adding another layer of color to the already vibrant pillar of the shed. Easy-peasy, especially now that I'd mastered the art of left-handed painting thanks to my recent arm cast debacle. Just six more days of this plaster prison, thank the stars.