1.) World's Collide
I don't own Percy Jackson or KHR
Reborn-is-Nico
--(xXx)--
Reborn had always been destined to enter into a profession that would make him kill. It didn't matter what he wanted, or if he felt that he shouldn't kill. He was destined to be surrounded by death.
His childhood practically served him up on a silver platter for his fate. It had always been planned for him. Starting from his very birth.
He hadn't been called Reborn back then. No he was called by a different name. One uncultured to America. The very country he was born in. His mother had been ordinary. From Italy, on a vacation to the US, is what she had told him when he had been old enough to take notice that he looked and spoke slightly different from the other kids and adults around them.
His father is the one who brung death to Reborn's life to be a constant companion. His father didn't do it on purpose, unless you count existing as being intentional. No the man couldn't help it. And neither could Reborn.
His father was the god of death and everything involved with it.
This made his child a demigod or better known as a half-blood. Half-bloods where always hunted just because they existed. Their blood practically sang for their enemies to come and devour. They constantly had the only choices of running or dying.
There had been one place for half bloods. A camp with protection, in the form of barriers, from the beasts that hunted them. Many flocked to the location and hid there. Hiding from the creatures and learned to protect themselves. But too often would halfbloods stay to long there that they became disillusioned to the outside world. Fell into such a normalcy that they became arrogant against the creatures that lurked for their flesh beyond the protective walls.
But that was only some. Reborn never forgot, Reborn never let himself. Neither did the few friends he had then.
Reborn was first introduced to death by his father, it was hard not to feel death when it clung to his father's clothes, hair, skin, and scent like smoke or air. He saw it in his father's robes in the brief instances before his father would magically make his clothes change into a normals humans suit. He saw the sobbing and screaming faces of the dead embroidered into the robes that resembled an abyss. He saw the shadows bend to his father's will, and even his own when he was upset. He felt death.
And he wasn't afraid of it.
In fact it felt normal to him, natural. Like it was apart of himself. And he embraced it.
But by no means did this mean he didn't know what death meant. He knew. And he knew why people where afraid of it.
He first saw death, in his mother.
She was struck down while walking down the street. A lightning bolt, was her killer. That was the first time he felt what death could do, when it took someone else, but didn't touch him at all.
It was a long time after that, that he found out why he noticed those things about his father and why he would forever have death as a companion.
It was when he learned he was a demigod. A son of Hades. The god of death and all it entails. It was also at that time that he lost his sister to death as well.
After his sister died he became cold just like his constant companion always had been.
And then death just kept taking people from him. A war raged. People were claimed by death. He was given titles. He killed. He maimed. He avenged. He protected.
He...cried.
And then he disappeared. He didn't know what happened or who caused it. One minute he had been starring down his enemy side by side with the only other half blood alive. And the next everything went black.
He knows he didn't call on the Shadows to use them to teleport in an ability called shadow travel. He didn't call on them.
He doesn't remember death claiming his soul.