Just a couple of kids lost in time (Hanora pov)
Sleep did not come easily that night, how could it? Everything was changing. Thalia ran off to be a hunter, Annabeth was going to San Francisco, Grover was getting messages from Pan, Percy officially took the mantle as the child of prophecy, and Nico… oh Nico. Gods he didn’t deserve this, any of this. He was ten years old and out in the world all on his own, and as a child of one of the big three no less. He was practically wearing a sign in neon lights spelling out ‘Free Meal’ to every monster in the tri-state area.
It was crazy to think about how I had only known this kid for what? Two weeks? If that, and yet I had not only become attached to him but strangely protective of him. I mean being the younger child to heroic older siblings is rough, but it is even worse when you are left alone to pick up the pieces, they left for you.
Bianca had originally irritated me. The very idea of intentionally leaving your sibling for something as bullshit as immortality had made me sick. Absolutely disgusted if I was going to be completely honest. But she had grown on me despite it all, and then promptly perished. I mean what are the odds?!
I guess that is the story of my life though. Start to admit someone is okay or dare I say cool, and then they are either ripped away by outside forces, leave on their own, die, or just straight up betray me. If you know, you know.
I shifted in my sleeping bag to look at the space next to me. Empty, of course. It once held Percy’s sleeping form, however briefly. Then it was filled with Nico’s after we picked him up from his manticore infested school. For several nights we sat awake whispering in the dark about our days, mythomagic, or anything else he excitedly brought up. I realized only in the dark staring at his empty place that many of those conversations had devolved into whispered Italian, a language only two other demigods I knew had learned enough to converse with me. Then there was this kid who could not remember his past that fell into rushed Italian when he got too excited. It felt like… oh what was the word? Friendly? No not that, comfortable? Closer? Oh, Home. It felt like home, even when the other campers shoved into the Hermes cabin, shushed us or threw poorly aimed pillows in the dark.
It was our quiet time, safe from every outside of our little bubble. The only monsters were ones with stats and cool cover art on his cards, and they could be defeated with a hero or god of his choosing. As easy as rock paper scissors, at least it was that easy for him I could have done with a bit more practice. But there was no war, no death, just two Italian kids giggling under the covers.
It had been a long time since I had been able to be ‘just a kid’.
The empty space hurt more than it ever had before. But I guess that did make sense. I knew that if I needed to, I could walk out of cabin eleven and creep down to cabin three. Inside I would find Percy sprawled out on his bunk, hair and blankets askew with a puddle of drool on his pillow. But Nico? Nico had run off into the woods, lost in the shadows. Shadows that used to be our safe haven from everything that had been sent to hurt us.
Circumstances had perverted our nighttime ritual, leaving us both alone in the dark.
For the first time since I had woken up dazed and confused in Hephestus’s workshop, I prayed. I prayed to any god that would listen. Major, minor, obscure, hades I even threw in a couple of Celtic gods while I was at it. It didn’t matter. I prayed asking them to look out for Nico while he was out on his own. I prayed for the help and ability to find him. I prayed that he would be alive and okay when I did. I prayed so much that I was sure that every gods' prayer voice mailbox was full. I prayed until I had nothing left to ask for, till there were no more gods I could think of.
Then I grabbed at my golden pendant, bringing it out from under my shirt where it normally sat. I inspected the delicate engraving of the dragon intertwined with the triquetra, the crest of the clan Mac Beithir. My Nan’s clan, the people she had been taken from before being sent off in chains to Italy, the sons of the dragon. In Celtic culture dragons were a symbol of life and nature, the cycle of life was watched over by the dragons and Nan had drilled this idea into our heads from the moment we were born. Dragons were life, and all life was tied to the dragons. She had said that our lives as the blood of the dragon were tied to the world that way, we were the bridge between life and death. I clutched the pendant tighter, hoping that not only was she right but that my connection was strong enough.
I thought of my father, brave and strong even when facing down his own end. He fought for his family, his people, his city, with his every breath and he did it all while wearing a necklace just like mine. A necklace made by his mother for each of us tying us together as mortal dragons. It was the only thing I had left of him, the only thing left to prove that I was his daughter.
I rubbed my thumb along the design and laid back letting my eyes fall shut. There was only one person left that I had not poured out my heart to. I whispered in ancient Greek a prayer to the one person that I would never even dare hope to answer me.
“Mother?”
I gulped, clearing my throat. “Mother, if you can hear me or at least take the time out of your schedule. Could you help keep Nico DiAngelo safe while he is on his own? I know its a lot to ask, but that is all I want. I have given up a long time ago the silly hope that you claim me or send some sort of sign. It’s okay, I actually like staying in the Hermes cabin. Well, most of the time anyway. As long as I am not involved in a prank war it’s usually a nice place to be. Oh, and you don’t have to worry about me, I can handle myself just fine. I've got plenty of weapon's practice under my belt and lots of new toys to use. But Nico- I just- Mom, he’s just a kid. He’s on his own, angry and hurting. I mean he’s not all that unlike me when, well you know. But mom please, if you ever held any respect for or if you- if you lo-ved my dad. Please help Nico.”
A single tear rolled down my cheek stinging my skin as I kissed my pendant and deposited it back under my shirt. My arms started to itch so I turned to my things and rubbed some specialized aloe that Will Solace, a son of Apollo, had made for me after seeing my burns when I had been rushed to the infirmary. Cause of the whole spewing blood thing from taking on the pain of the sky from Annabeth while being on the other side of the country. You know just normal girly things. But I had to say the stuff really worked, my itch immediately dissipated, I was definitely going to ask him what sorcery he had used, he’d probably think it was funny and happily tell me his thought process. I snuggled back under the covers and tried to drift off into sleep.
Demigod dreams were not known for being peaceful, so I was not at all surprised when my dreams quickly turned into nightmares. I watched as Nico ran deeper into a dark, never-ending hallway. The halls changed in structure from brick to marble columns and back again. He was screaming and crying calling out for Bianca, his mother, his father.
“Hanora!” He yelled as if my heart could not break anymore.
The shadows of monsters just outside of my view closed in on him, and there was nothing I could do. The shadows crashed in and when the darkness cleared I was somewhere new following a young girl instead.
The girl was about Nico’s age, she was battered and bruised with smears of blood all over her. It was unclear if it was her own blood or someone else's. She was in a torn powder blue stola, a draped dress that women in the roman empire often wore. I knew that she should have had a bright red scarf around her shoulders, but it must have been lost in the commotion. Her long strawberry blonde hair was matted and covered in ash and blood as it swayed behind her as she ran. It looked like it had been ripped from an elaborate updo violently. She had tears brimming in her pale teal green eyes, some spilled down her face drenching her freckled cheeks.
She was in an ancient city on fire. Marble buildings crumbled, market stalls crushed, stairs with large gashes cut into the stone, and marble statues fallen into heaps onto the basalt stone street. Everywhere she turned there were monsters of myths and horror stories. And if there were no monsters then she ran into a heap of human bodies, all in varying degrees of dismemberment.
There were large spikes lining the streets, all of which had Roman soldiers' helmets resting on them. Only on closer inspection could you see that the helmets were still on their soldier’s heads and not just freely hanging on the spikes. They were a warning, the heads of the fallen, those who stood against the monsters and their masters. Those who did not fall by the blade were led past the spikes in chains. Hellhounds barked to keep their prisoners in place while the dracaena pulled the humans down the street toward the large marble colosseum.
The girl turned in circles. There was nowhere for her to go.
Two young men tried to push through the monsters to get to her. Both of them were in torn white togas stained with dirt and blood. The brunette boy got further than the blonde one, but both were yanked back into line before they could even make it off the street. They screamed for her to run, but she was too dazed. She stumbled away down the street as a hellhound broke off to chase her down.
She screamed and cried calling out for her brothers, her father, her mom.
She fell to her knees a few moments before the hell hound would catch up to her. Time seemed to slow as she looked up, not at me but rather through me.
I knew this girl, her eyes haunted me in the mirror.
A golden pendant dangled from her neck, the only thing glowing pristinely in the apocalyptic scene.
And I knew that no one was coming to save her.