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In 1001, Mikael's sword pierced not only his children's hearts, but the best friend of who he thought to be his son.
•••
Since early childhood, Niklaus Mikaelson had been friends with a charming, kind-hearted girl named Belle Folan.
The Folan family had migrated to the New World with the Mikaelsons when a deadly plague struck their homeland.
Though the Folan's were not wealthy, the Mikaelson's helped them build a home in the New World, even after having six children.
Belle grew up knowing the Mikaelsons as near family, though not through blood. She was always closest to Niklaus, having known the troubles of abuse from both of their fathers.
She and Kol were also quite close, but not near her and Niklaus' bond. They were like two puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly.
One full moon, Belle and Niklaus allowed Henrik—Esther's youngest son—to persuade them to watch the werewolves transform during a full moon in the next village.
But that night, horror struck. Henrik had been mauled by a wolf. He was left as a mangled pile of skin, blood, and bones. The two elder children wept as they carried his body back to the village, blood staining their clothes.
"Mother!" Niklaus roared. His brother was limp in his arms, lifeless. "Mother!"
Esther rushed out of her home, only to see one of her beloved children dead in her other son's arms.
"Henrik!" She yelled, running to where Niklaus had tripped in his attempt to bring his brother's body to his mother. She put her ear to his chest, trying to find a heart beat, only to be greeted with silence. "What happened?"
"We went to watch the wolves! We were hidden but..." he couldn't continue, for he wept in Belle's hold. He was in her embrace, her arms not letting go as she held him. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
"Ayanna!" Esther turned to the powerful witch, in hopes that she could help. "Ayanna, please! Do something, bring him back!"
"I can't," she stated as calmly as she could. "The spirits won't allow it."
"No!" Esther cried, hugging Henrik's body close to her.
All through the night, the family mourned the loss of their youngest child.
•••
The next night, Esther and Mikael spoke with Ayanna about a spell that would insure their children would be protected against the wolves.
"Please, Ayanna." Esther was practically begging now.
"No, this is a crime against nature. I will have no part of it!" With that, Ayanna left the hut, leaving the two mourning parents in despair.
"It seems it is up to you, my dear," Mikael laid a kiss to Esther's temple before leaving.
And that night she made a spell that would make sure her children would never again fall by a werewolf's hand.
She put it in the wine she served, and they all unknowingly drank the blood of a Petrova, making them one step closer to immortality. Mikael, using his battle sword, plunged it into the heart of all of his children, except one.
Niklaus had run off to give a glass of wine to Belle, feeling that she should be part of the family gathering. When Mikael found them, huddled in a barn with the horses chatting and drinking their wine, he yelled for them to come out, to which they obliged to. In a swift motion, Mikael stabbed Belle through the heart, killing her instantly, immediately doing the same thing to Niklaus.
When the two awoke, they stood carefully, holding onto each other for dear life. Soon, Mikael came to the barn, dragging a village girl behind him, a large, bleeding wound on her arm.
"Drink!" He commanded, throwing the girl into Niklaus' arms. "Drink, boy!"
Niklaus was terrified, to say the least. He didn't understand what was happening to him—what was happening to Belle. Veins had sprouted beneath her eyes, which were now red. Slowly, she looked at the girl's arm, lightly taking hold of it. She swiped a finger over her blood, bringing the bloodied finger to her lips. A soon as she did, her teeth began to hurt. Monstrous, sharpened teeth began sprouting from her gums.
"Drink!" Niklaus had been caught up watching Belle, terrified. He was confused beyond belief, horrified of what he was about to do. In a quick pace, he brought the girl to his own side, lifting her wrist to his mouth. Taking one last glance at Belle, he latched onto the wound, beginning to drain her of what could be called her life force.
