The air was thick with a stillness that felt like peace and more like a heavy, sound dampening blanket of grief. I stood by the gravesides. The weight of Sheila Bennett's death pressing down on me like an ancient cloak. The sun had dipped low, bleeding the last light from the western horizon and casting elongated, skeletal shadows across the sprawling cemetery ground. The only sound daring to interrupt the absolute silence was the faint, mournful whisper of the wind rustling through the gnarled branches of the old oak trees.
The funeral had been a small, intimate gathering. Just close friends and family. Though I maintained a respectful distance, a perimeter I knew better than to cross, I could feel the raw sorrow emanating from every mourner like a living, breathing entity.
I could sense some witches there. Maybe her relatives or close friends. They were watching me. Some looked at me with wary some, some with hate and some with fear but I pay no attention to them. My eyes were on Bonnie.
Bonnie stood at the forefront. Her figure rigid, almost defensive and her face set in a pale mask of stoic pain. Elena and Caroline flanked her, their presence a silent offering of support, though I noted the subtle way Bonnie angled her body, trying to avoid Elena's comforting, if misplaced, touch.
I watched Bonnie from a few paced away. My heart aching for her. It was a loss that cut deeper than mere affection. It was severance of roots. Sheila had been everything for her. She was an anchor, a mentor, a protector and the keeper of her ancestral identity. Now, she was gone, leaving Bonnie adrift in a turbulent sea of power she barely understood. I knew, with a certainty earned over centuries, that no platitude of simple act of comfort could heal this wound.
As the small crowd slowly began to disperse, a slow, shuffling stream of black coats and hushed voices, I remained rooted. Bonnie still lingered. Her posture locked in place. I watched as she reached out. Her hand gently settling on the cold, newly placed stone marker. Her lips moved, forming a soft whisper that my vampire hearing caught with unnerving clarity. It wasn't a lament, but a final, private conversation. Though she wasn't openly weeping, the almost imperceptible tremor in her shoulders betrayed the crushing depth of her grief.
When the last of the mourners, a cousin, or an old friend had finally departed, I approached her slowly. My steps were light on the wet grass as I gave her the wide, necessary berth of space. The closer I got, the more I could feel the tangible weight of her pain, a suffocating fog surrounding her.
"Bonnie." I said softly, halting a few feet away as I respecting the invisible boundary she had erected. She didn't turn, but she acknowledged my presence with a barely perceptible nod.
"She's gone." Bonnie whispered. Her voice was hollow and stripped of all resonance.
"Everything she taught me, everything we were supposed to do, it's all gone with her." She added. I took a deliberate step closer, placing myself at her shoulder.
"It's not all gone. What she taught you, the lessons, the spells, it's all still with you, Bonnie. It's inside your blood. And I can help you continue to learn, to refine and to control youur powers." I said and she finally turned. Her dark eyes, that was so fierce the day that I first met her were now filled with a fragile surface tensions of unshed tears.
"It's not the same, Natalia. Grams was my anchor. She understood me in ways no one else ever will. We had plans. So many things she wanted to teach me. And now, she's just gone." She murmured. I reached out, hesitating only for a fraction of a second before placing my hand gently on her shoulder. It was a rare, conscious display of non-threatening connection.
"I can't replace her. No one can. But I will be here for you, Bonnie. I can't fill her shoes in your life, but I can help you to understand your powers. I can help you grow, just like she wanted. I can keep the lineage strong." I admitted. My voice was soft but firm as I stated the obvious truth.
"But why? Why are you helping me?" The war query held suspicion, but also a desperate plea for purpose. I sighed, allowing my gaze to fall on Sheila's grave, the fresh, dark earth, the clean and cold stone.
"Because you are a Bennett witch. I made a solemn promise to your ancestors, years and years ago. A promise etched in blood and shared magic. If I ever met a Bennett witch, I would do whatever it takes to help and protect them." I said as my eyes returned to hers. My eyes pierced through the lingering skepticism.
"And, perhaps, because I can see the potential in you. The raw, untapped power. The genuine good in your intentions. You will become a great witch, Bonnie Bennett. Perhaps even better than any Bennett witch before you."
Bonnie blinked and the tears finally breaking their barrier, tracing silent, silver paths down her pale cheeks. She didn't speak, but I could see the internal battle in her eyes. Her desire to reject help conflicting wit the desperate, immediate need for guidance.
"I know it's not easy. But you are not alone in this, Bonnie. You are never alone." I continuedn and my voice sinking to a bare whisper.
For a long moment, the only sounds we the quiet sifting of leaves and the gentle rhythm of her ragged breathing. We simply stood there, an ancient vampire and a grieving young witch, that was united by a debt and a legacy, surrounded by the quiet of the cemetary. Eventually, Bonnie nodded, and a small, shaky breath escaping her lips as she wiped hastily at her tears.
"Thank you." She whispered and I could hear her voice cracking.
"Whenever you are ready, we start. There's no rush." I gave her shoulder a final, gentle squeeze before stepping back, granting her the last moments of private communion she needed.
Bonnie nodded again, though her gaze remained fixated at the gravestone, my thoughts a chaotic mess of centuries of loss. Sheila had been a formidable force, a powerful witch who had given her life to protect her granddaugter and her town. And now, she was gone. The world felt a little colder, a little darker, without her defiant spirit in it.
*****
It had been a week since the funeral. A week marked by the slow, painful process of healing and the disciplined focus of training. Bonnie had come to me, accepting my offer for guidance and she had been coming over daily. Most of the time, our training was contained within the shielded confines of my mansion's rear grounds, but today, I had needed her to connect with raw, unburdened nature, so I take her deep into the surrounding woods.
The training was demanding, and it was a frustrating and slow. It was a battle against grief, fear and a thousand years of Bennett dogma but the improvement was undeniable. The power within her was responding, and slowly beginning to take shape.
The sun had fully set by the time I made it back to my mansion. The training had left me drained, not physically but in that deeper physic sense that came from channeling energy and navigating profound, raw emotion. But there was no time to rest. As soon as I walked through the front door, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a message from Elena.
'Can we meet? It's important.'
I sighed, leaning my back against the cool marble of the foyer wall. It seems there was always something urgent, always a new crisis demanding immediate attention. But I had mad a promise, a commitment to protect her, and I intended to keep it, even if it meant running myself ragged.
'Come to my house. I will send you the location.'
A few minutes later, Elena and Stefan arrived. I ledthem directly into the living room. It was a vast and dimply lit space where the tension of the night6 immediately thickened the air. Elena's face was drawn tight with worry and a nervous excitement. Stefan, typically the more composed of the two, was unusually quiet. His gaze shifting around the room as if searching the shadows for listening ears.
They sat side by side on a heavy velvet couch. Their hands not quite touching, while I remained standing, leaning casually against the cold stone mantelpiece. I didn't invite them to relax. This was a meeting, not a social call.
"You look terrible, Elena." I observed as I cutting directly to the point.
"What's going on?" I crossed my arms over my chest, demanding the answer. Elena exchanged a tense, meaningful glance with Stefan before speaking. Her voice was barely steady.
"Stefan did some digging about my past. About why I look exactly like Katherine when I'm supposedly not related to her. He found out that I am adopted." Elena said and I simply nodded. My expression unchanged. The news held no surprise for me because Stefan wasn't the only one who did research.
"You don't look surprised." Stefan asked. His suspicion immediately sharpening his gaze.
"Because I already knew this weeks ago. I also did my research. A doppelganger can only be born from the original bloodline. If Elena were a Gilbert by birth, she couldn't be Katherine's double. But she is her doppelganger." I pushed off the mantel and took a slow, deliberate step toward them.
"So, I went everywhere that might have answers. I met people, compelled them, threatened some, and I got my answers. It wasn't pretty but I did get what I want. You and I are related. I am your ancestor, and you are a Petrova." I said before I paused, letting the information sink into the silence.
"But there is still one answer that I couldn't find."
"What?" Stefan asked, leaning forward, hungry for details.
"How? How is Elena a Petrova when the bloodline, for all intents and purposed, stopped at Katherine when she was turned? But that's a problem for another day. I believe you telling me you are adopted is not the urgent reason you wanted to see me." I said and Elena swallowed hard as she gripped her hands tightly.
"No. It's about Isobel." Elena said and I raised an eyebrow at her, as a question to why I should know about her and as a sign for her to continue.
"She is my biological mother. And I need your help to find her." Elena stated with her eyes pleading for me to say yes but her request made me frown. Her request throw a cold wall against my pragmatic self.
"You want me to help find your biological mother? The woman who abandoned you?" I asked.
"You did research on Elena, did you find out where Isobel is?" Stefan pressed, trying to bypass the emotional blockade.
"No. I stopped digging once I confirmed Elena was adopted. That was the only answer I needed, for now." I clarified.
"Are you sure about this, Elena? You do know what abandonment means, right?" I asked as I am genuinely confused by her need to seek out a woman who had shown zero maternal interest and Elena nodded again, with her jaw set.
"I have tried contacting Bonnie, but she is not answering my calls. I don't know if she's still upset about her Grams, or if something else is going on, but, I need help. I don't know where else to turn." Elena said and I kept silent about Bonnie's daily visits, about the training that take place just hours ago. That was a private matter of the supernatural lineage. Instead, I focused on Elena's perilous request.
"I don't know if I can help. I am not sure if it's the right thing to do. She abandoned you. I don't know why you want to find her. You are grown up, and she never once showed her face." I admitted, turning away to look out the window and the darkness mirroring my reluctance.
"I just, I just want to know what kind of person she is." Elena finally confessed. It was the simple curiosity that was overriding her fear.
"I don't know whether I want to help you with this." I repeated as I turned back to face them.
"But you promised you'd protect me, Natalia. You said you'd help me." Elena's eyes widened and her voice rose in desperation.
"I promised to protect you from danger, Elena. Not to run errands for you. I am not like the Salvatore brothers, always at your beck and call. I am not like them that willing to sacrifice their own lives for your fleeting emotional needs." I reminded her, and my tone was sharp, firm and uncompromising.
"We are not-" Stefan began, rising slightly from the couch and his face was flushed.
"Yes, you are, Stefan." I cut him off with a look of cold certainty that silenced him. I look at Elena and she bit her lip. She was clearly struggling to rein in her frustration and emotion.
"I know you only care about my safety. But this is important. I need to find her. I need answers."
Her words was simple and profound and it tugged at something deep inside me. It was a recognition of the inherited wound. She wasn't asking this out of selfishness. She genuinely needed to know the truth about her parentage, about her mother who carried the Petrova curse. I couldn't ignore the part of me that had once been in a similar, desperate position, searching for a closure and failing miserably. Hiding and running from the monsters that they called me but ending up being the exact monsters that I fear.
"Fine. I will try." I conceded, reluctantlyt as I let out a long heavy breath that acknowledge defeat. Elena's face immediately lit up with relief and Stefan gave me a small silent nod of gratitude.
"But I need something of hers. Something personal. A connection." I added as I raised a hand to stop them from celebrating and as soon as I said that, Elena's sudden smile faltered.
"I, I don't have anything of hers. I have never met her. I don't even know what she looks like." Elena said and I nodded as I have expected this.
"Then that leaves us with only one option. Your blood." I said and Elena's eyes widened. Stefan tensed beside her, immediately feeling protective.
"Her blood?" He asked, and his voice was low with suspicion.
"Elena and Isobel share the same Petrova blood. My blood will not be as strong as Elena's because Isobel is the one who have birth to her. My blood has no DNA connection with Isobel, only in lineage. I can use your blood to track her." I said as I walked over to a nearby antique sabinet and pulled out a small copper bowl and set it down on the glass coffee table in front of them.
After a moment of tense hesitation, Elena offered her hand to me, her eyes locked on mine, showing a surprising flicker of trust. I took a small, surgical blade from a drawer and made a tiny, precise cut, letting three drops of her dark red blood fall into the copper bowl.
"Consano." I whispered, casting a swift gentle healing spell on Elena's palm and the cut vanishing instantly.
I placed my hands over the bowl, focusing my energy. The air in the room suddenly grew colder and heavier. My voice deepened as I taking on the resonant and guttural cadence of ancient magic.
"Phasmatos Tribum Nas Ex Veras, Sequita Saguines, Ementas Astem Mihan Ega Petous." As I began the incantation, I could feel the magic swirling around me, the power of Elena's blood connecting to the source which is her biological mother that were somewhere far beyond this room. For a brief, intoxicating moment, I felt a distinct pull, a sense of direction, like a compass needle swinging toward a powerful magnet.
Then, abruptly, the connection was cut off. A cold, sharp wall of energy slammed against my magical probe, throwing my concentration violently backward.
"Someone blocked me." I said as I opened my eyes and my brow furrowing. A low growl rumbling in my chest.
"There is a witch protecting her. Someone is fighting me. I can't track her." I said and my voice was tight with intense frustration and a new suspicion.
"Why would Isobel have a witch protecting her? Does this mean she know about the supernatural world?" Stefan asked with a frown. His confusion immediately evident.
"I don't know Salvatore." I admitted as a feeling of a cold dread replace my confusion.
"That is another mystery added to my list." I said as my mind raced, reviewing every fact. A doppelganger's biological mother, a human, who is protected by a powerful, alert witch.
"Something biggest is going on here. Something we don't understand. Something we don't understand. Something that I have missed entirely." I stated and my eyes fixed on the remaining drops of blood in the bowl.
Elena's face fell, the hope draining away instantly, and Stefan's expression grew serious, his hand instinctively reaching for Elena's shoulder. This was not the answer they had hoped for, but it was the only one I could give. The simple search for a birth mother had just escalated into a complex, protected, supernatural conspiracy.
"I will need more of your blood Elena. That is only if you allow. No pressure." I said.
"What for?" Stefan asked.
"I want to do the spell again. This time, that witch cannot stop me." I said and they both look at each other.
"How much do you need?" Stefan asked.
"One whole blood bag." I said after I grab a an empty new blood bag that I kept for emergency use and put it on the glass coffee table.
"Okay. Lets do this." Elena said as she roll her sleeve, ready to give me more of her blood.