✔ The Way We Burn || Kol Mikaelson (Complete)

Chapter 12

The days following Henrik and Nora's deaths passed in a blur. Kol woke up, ate, dressed, helped with the chores, looked off into space and went to lay on his bed. Then, when the sun rose, he did it all over again. The nights were hard. There were no one to try to steal his covers and sleeping was difficult. There were the nightmares, of course, but there were also his mother, Rebekah and Nik crying. In a way, it was as if their home was haunted, except Kol knew better. Henrik was gone. There was no ghost looking over them. Just their own sorrow and the heavy silence left by someone's absence.

Before he realized it, Kol was standing in the cemetery with the wind whipping his face. The day before, several men had brought a lavishly decorated boat to the place. He had probably been one of them. His muscles were sore and his bones ached. He couldn't remember though. But then again, his mind hadn't really been there. Still wasn't, to be honest.

Henrik's still body was lying peacefully on the small boat. His little brother had been cleaned and dressed with new clothes. He seemed even smaller than Kol remembered. His hands shook and he clenched his fists, not willing to show his sadness to all the village's idiots. Yet, his body wanted to express the despair he was feeling and soon, his eyes were tearful, blurring the scene before him.

Tatia was with Elijah, Finn with their mother, Rebekah with Nik. Kol had never felt more alone.

Sigr, a slave who could have been his sister in another life and time, headed to the boat escorted by two older women. She was walking with her head down and from where he stood, Kol could see her shaking. There were no doubts she was scared but there was nothing she could do to stop this. She would die and, according to his people's faith, serve his brother in the afterlife. As if Henrik would have wanted such a thing. Henrik, his sweet innocent brother. Gods, this was so wrong. So, so wrong.

Words were spoken. He could see his father's lips moving. There were no traces of sadness on the harsh man's face. Henrik died fighting the beats and would meet Odin. Mikael was proud of his little warrior.

Kol was disgusted.

The boat was set on fire. Sigr's screams of pain, fear and anguish, reverberated through the cemetery, and Kol knew it would haunt him forever. His little brother disappeared among the flames. At the end, when the fire finally burned out, all that was left were ashes, burned wood and blackened bones.

Now, all he had to do was share the last meal of the day with his family. Then he would go back to staring into the emptiness that was now his life, trying very hard to not claw his heart out to stop the pain.

***

Kol was standing alone at the edge of the forest, his eyes fixed on the tall trees. Their dark shadows looked ominous and he couldn't bring himself to take a step further. It was the first time he approached the forest since that fateful day. All that was left of Nora in her encampment was still there, waiting for him. Going to that place would be admitting she wasn't there anymore, and even though the hole inside him screamed her absence, he couldn't do it.

He had no body to burn, her ashes already gone with the wind, and Tatia and him would be the only ones mourning the beautiful redhead. Earlier, his siblings and he had shared stories about Henrik while drinking a red wine made by their mother. There were tears, very few laughs, and the stark realization that he couldn't do the same for Nora. There were no stories to share with his brothers and sister about the woman he loved. They didn't know her. And they would never do. He might meet her younger version, one day in the future, but what was the point? No matter what he did, she would always be out of his reach, always one foot into the grave.

A faint breath of wind caress his face and he closed his eyes, dreaming it was Nora's hand on his skin with the slightest touch. It was there, with his eyes closed and his mind focused on his skin, that he realized something was wrong.