Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN STUFF. THERE FORE YOU CANNOT SUE ME BECAUSE I PUT THIS DISCLAIMER THINGY.
Accccchhhhh. I haven't updated in a long time. So my writing style has changed over time, so I might, simply might not, get as much readers as before. Of course the plot is still the same, but the writing style isn't. So please excuse me for my laziness. Anyways, I'd just like to thank everyone who's been with us through this somewhat "grueling" exploration of Nico's friendship. So here's Chapter 3...
Nico dodged the claws just in time before slamming into the gate which surrounded his father's palace. He vaguely felt a crunch in his torso and an explosion emitting from the garden. A niggling pain began in his ribs, and all he wanted was for it to stop. But more importantly, what had just happened?
Had the Kindly One been killed?
He opened his eyes. Standing in front, was his father—Hades. Nico gaped at Hades as he strode silently towards him. He was elegantly adorned in black robes that seemed to billow out into nothingness; a skeletal crown sat upon his head. His gaunt face and vacant eyes seemed to bore into his son's very soul—did he know what he was up to?
The pomegranate was still clutched in Nico's hand. So far, his father hadn't noticed—well, he hoped he hadn't. If Hades knew his intentions, he'd probably get a long, monotonous lecture about how the dead couldn't be brought back to life. But didn't his father know how much Bianca meant to him? Didn't he know that his own daughter had been sacrificed?
"Nico…" Hades silky voice rang through the land. "What are you doing?"
"I-I just came to visit, father," Nico stuttered.
Hades smirked. "I see. Then what are you doing with a pomegranate in your hand?"
Nico dropped the pomegranate. It rolled away and the boy knew he had no chances of getting it back. He lowered his gaze and stared at the unnaturally pale green grass underneath his body. "I…"
"Say nothing and I will say nothing. Easy as that," Hades said. Nico was bewildered—this wasn't like his father… "I want to see if you will succeed. Do you have the courage to do this?"
The demigod opened his mouth, and then shut it. It was best not to argue.
Hades bent down and kneeled before his son. Before Nico could protest, his father's hand touched his chest and instantly, a flash of black light filled the entire garden. Both their eyes and mouth sealed with the power, and a second later, any trace of it was gone. Nico shuddered and crawled to the fruit, hastily stuffing it into his pocket. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He didn't feel any different, except the ache in his ribs was gone. He shifted his gaze to his father, who was breathing heavily and holding his chest as though his life depended on it.
Nico stared at his hands, and then looked back at his dad. "What did you just do?"
Hades' glare was sharp as he rose. "I've bestowed you strength. I've healed your wounds for the journey ahead. A 'thank you' will suffice."
"Thanks," Nico grumbled. He touched the pomegranate's hard skin to make sure it had any bruises—there were none. He eyed his father again.
Hades' expression was harsh. "Do not anger your stepmother again—if you do, she will present you a very, very, ruthless beating." His mouth curled into an ugly smile. "And remember, Nico: the dead cannot be brought back to life unless the Doors of Death are open. But they won't ever be open—at least not for long. I can sense it. They are almost ready. I want to see you try, though. Maybe you will earn my approval, just as you did in the war."
The boy gaped at his dad. The Doors of Death? A new idea popped into his head, but he shoved it aside. He'd use it if his plan failed. If the pomegranate fell short of his goal, he'd bide his time for the doors to open. He'd bring Bianca back—no matter what.
He thought for a moment, before coming up with the question. "Say," he said, "What happened to the Kindly One?"
An unfeeling, impassive smile spread across Hades' face, a thin line against his sallow skin. "That's for you to discover," he said, unconcerned. With that, he disappeared into the depths of his kingdom, leaving his son alone in the darkness.
Nico left as soon as his father had vanished. He didn't want any trouble—certainly not with any monsters.
Gaping chasms were abundant in the Underworld: once the demigod had sworn to himself that something was churning underneath his feet. Other times, he'd heard moans and shrieks of horror fill the air, whispers attempting to persuade him to free them from their pain. But he blocked them form his head. He was a son of Hades'; no way would he succumb. If he did, the creature would have to know that Nico would be holding a grudge for a very, very, long time.
As he made his way through the endless roads, his legs began to ache again. Twice he'd had to slay a hellhound barging in his way—though the creatures were rather decent in his mind, he didn't want to get into any distractions. According to the unseen watch in his head, it was past his time. Percy would be worrying his head off for him.
Once he spotted the shining place, he knew he'd made it. It seemed to gleam unnaturally in the dismal place, and as he drew closer, he realized the haze was clearing up and that everything was starting to get brighter.
Colorful flowers dotted the lawn and awnings of the area, and before his very eyes, they were blooming. He caught glimpses of spirits playing ball or lounging on chairs that seemed immaculately clean. Nico felt out of place. His scruffy clothing and hair looked strange in this wonderful place, and he started to fret on his appearance, even though everyone here was dead.
It was Elysium.
This was where Bianca was, the place for heroes. Nico wondered whether he would end up here or in the Fields of Asphodel. He still wasn't sure on his destiny, and yet, he felt that there was a certain draw to the location: the cheeriness and splendor was highly noticeable. Not only did it seemed playful, now that he reflected on it, the spires rose high in the air and the white, unsoiled walls were straight up—it was magnificent.
Nico desired to be here. It looked so perfect, so…happy, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Now I just have to find a way to get in here…, he thought considerately.
"Nico?" Her voice was confused, and more importantly, poignant. Nico had never heard her sound this way in Elysium—his sister was always content here.
"Bianca!" he breathed. He almost reached out for hug, but then remembered that he couldn't. She was just vapor and frostiness when he touched her.
"Hi…" She looked as if she was downcast. "What are you doing here?"
"I found a way to bring you back!" Nico couldn't hold in his excitement anymore, after acting indifferent toward his father and confident near the monsters. "This time, I'm sure it won't fail; I even got someone's consent!"
"You always say that," Bianca said, pursing her lips. She lowered her voice. "You have to stop, Nico. It's become an obsession. I…I know it's hard but-"
Her brother growled. "I'm doing this out of love," he snapped angrily. "I need you. I'm nothing without your guidance."
Bianca's gaze hardened. "I'm nothing without this!" She waved her hand across the palace. "Without my body, I'll never be able to get outside! What are you trying to do Nico? What are you trying to do?"
"I'm trying to bring you back, that's what."