DISCLAIMER: We do not own these characters/places/storylines. They belong to Rick. We own our OC's and events that we have created.
Death. War leaves nothing but pain, sorrow and death. My children and my children's children were slaughtered, some banished to Tartarus, others scattered across the lands, long beyond repair. I will not just sit here and weep like I did before, like they expect me too. No. Now is the time for action. A time for retribution. A time for justice. I have a plan. I disturb the darkness around me, pulling it in closer. I shape it, mould it, breathe life into it. My vengeance pours forth into this small vulnerable form. As I build the shell, it slowly alters, appendages swaying. So fragile. As the darkness surrounding it fades, small, intricate details start to embellish the shell. Smooth, inky hair, shifting alongside the darkness around us, growing as if it was being pushed through her scalp. Piercing blue eyes, startlingly bright in the dimness around us. Fingernails grow at an accelerated rate, limbs elongate, teeth sprout from rosy gums. Finally, her form was complete. I twirl it, examining my masterpiece. Beautiful and nearly perfect.
...
The form was missing two vital things: a name and a strand of humanity. The name had to be something that encompassed its personality and appearance. Relaying through my millennium of memories, I landed on the answer. Nisha Oleander Ciardha. Perfect. The humanity would be harder to find, but not impossible. It was a surprisingly simple ingredient; anything infused with the essence of the human would suffice. Preferably, a worthy demigod, powerful enough to cause the fall of Olympus, perhaps, and already on my watch list. I had just the person. But I was eternally contained to Tartarus, so how would I obtain this last ingredient? After a while, an idea came to me. I stretched my consciousness, searching for any of my children; hellhounds. A couple hundred cycled in front of my eyes before I settled on one to access. I transported my thoughts down our link, sending instructions. Now, all there was to do, was to wait while my child did their job; bring me Percy Jackson's essence.