IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

I have added an extra scene at the end of this chapter. You should read it or the next one will seem a little hurried.

I'm not sure when I will update chapter twelve because school starts on Monday. But I have already started writing it, so it shouldn't be too long.

sasuhina542000

Enjoy.


Cat Beats: You have mentioned that Nora seems more like a 'spectator and less of a main character'. I have to agree with your opinion and that makes me slightly sad. Nora is the main character of this story, but she does seem a little impassive and uninvolved. This has to do with many things, among them the fact that she doesn't really know what she should do. Behind every action she takes there is always the fear of doing something wrong and changing the future for the worse. Besides, Nora was only seventeen when she died and as she grew up in this new family she had no experiences that could help her mature.

In this new life she was spoiled by Hades and never truly had to take responsibility for anything, thus she still has the mindset of a teenager.

On another note, I'm trying to slowly separate her from her siblings. You must understand that they share a very strong bond. They can't lie to each other and always know what the others are feeling. Sometimes they can't even differ which emotions belong to whom. That's something that actually deeply troubles Nora, but she doesn't know what to do against it.

I will try to give her some 'alone time' in the future and hopefully change her from a spectator into the main character she was supposed to be.

Man, did that end up being long.

sasuhina542000

Summary: Death gained a whole new appeal the moment I became a daughter of Hades. Self-Insert

Have fun.


Chapter 11

Where The Story Begins


"Sometimes you have to choose between a bunch of wrong choices and no right ones. You just have to choose which wrong choices feels the least wrong."
― Colleen Hoover, Hopeless

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."
― Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis


4 March 1945

Between constant visits to Jerome or Charlotte and the time I spend in the Underworld, I never noticed how much the things in the mortal world were changing. 1944 came and left and the only indication for that was the growing Jerome. And now that 1945 had arrived I knew that World War II would soon end, just as I knew that my father wouldn't be the winner.

Father was aware of that as well. It was impossible for us to leave the Underworld without being accompanied by one of the furies. He preferred to keep us in his sight, even tough the anger we felt from him at such a close proximity threatened to drown us.

Our training became more brutal and we were forced to delve deeper into the powers that we inherited from him. We learned to control the dead in quality and quantity. Both very important to our father.

As we weren't allowed to leave much for the mortal world, we explored the Underworld. Wandered across the shores of its rivers, ran through the field of Asphodel, tried to tame Cerberus as good as we could and sneaked into the ferry boat to drive across the river Styx.

As long as we were in his domain, father couldn't care less about what we were doing.

We still sneaked out into the mortal world as often as we could, that never changed. Yet we knew better than to do so on days that father seemed more agitated or angry than normally.

Most of those days one of our siblings died. I met a few of them. Some nice, others complete maniacs. That was to be expected.

Every time we visited Jerome, we had to make sure that our presence did not attract monster too close to him. Thus we spend a lot of our time purging the area around his home from all the monster that we could find. After a while they learned to stay away.

However, I would never forget the time we were attacked by a Manticore. It had the body of a red lion, fur missing at some places. The human head it had possessed did nothing to make it seem less of a threat. And let's not forget about the three rows of very sharp and yellow teeth. The foul smell that penetrated the area each time the creature let some air out of its mouth wasn't anything pleasant.

Have I already mentioned the tail? No? What a shame. Let me describe it.

As if the monster needed more intimidation factors, it had a giant green and black, scorpion-like tail at its back. The whole thing was larger than I was. It could shoot poisonous spikes as well, if you were wondering.

I ended up running from those spikes in all directions. Nico and Bianca, too.

Fortunately, it was already late and not many people were wandering the streets. Instead of a high number of casualties, the streets and stands were left heavily damaged in our wake.

We managed to lure the monster away from Jerome's home into a ominous alleyway. It was there that Bianca tripped over her own feet and accidentally cut off the Manticore's tail. Then she knocked herself out by head-collision with asphalt.

At that moment it hadn't been as hilarious as it was now, but I still froze for a second to stare at her in disbelieve. I was forced to act when the Manticore started to move angrily in my unconscious sister's direction. With shadow traveling I arrived in time to stop the monster's incoming attack and get my sister away from there.

I observed from the entrance of the alley how Nico jumped on the Manticore's back and pierced it with his sword. The monster exploded in a cloud of golden dust and showered my twin in it.

He had looked truly ridiculous.

That night father had found out about our daily visits to our brother. He wasn't pleased.

We were happy that he did not forbid us to visit Jerome again. Father actually accompanied us few times. During those visits our little brother seemed the happiest. He craved father's attention just as much as we did.

On another note, he finally gained some weight. Each time we came to visit, we brought him something to eat. Fruit or vegetable mash, some soup or sweets. The little boy had a sweet tooth that was almost as bad as mine.

Yet, no matter how much time we spend in his company, the bond we shared never extended to him. I was ashamed to admit that I was glad.

Anyway, we were talking about father's foul mood. Today it seemed especially bad. He looked angry and ready to murder the first person that dared to irritate him.

But under all the layers of his anger, I could feel a spark of worry starting to ignite a giant fire. Something bad must have happened.

Maybe one of our siblings died once again?

''What happened, papa?'' Nico asked with a slight frown on his face. For father to feel truly worried something really bad must have happened, the three of us knew that. ''Is something bad going to happen?''

Father put the cutlery he had been using down on the table. ''A prophecy has been spoken.''

My throat felt very dry suddenly. This couldn't be happening.

Bianca's fork stopped half way to her mouth. ''A prophecy?''

''Does it concern us?'' My twin asked nervously. He was aware of the fact that prophecies never meant anything good. ''Who spoke it?''

Father's voice didn't give away anything from the inner turmoil he was experiencing. ''The Oracle. I am not certain if it concerns you.''

''What's the prophecy, papa?'' I could feel the blood rushing into my head. It was a wonder I was still conscious. Perhaps it wasn't that prophecy. Perhaps I changed something.

Deep down I knew that those were the hopes of a fool. History repeated itself already once, it would do so again. And I couldn't even tell what this prophecy would mean for us. I had no idea how all of this worked. Was Percy Jackson destined to become the Child of Prophecy or could someone else take his place? If Bianca, whose sixteenth birthday was only a few month away, reached the required age before him, would she be forced to make the decision between destroy or preserve?

My thoughts were interrupted by a very unwanted truth.

''A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen against all odds

And see the world in endless sleep

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap

A single choice shall end his days

Olympus to preserve or raze''

Silence reigned the room when father finished reciting the prophecy. We all looked at each other, feeling a heavy weight settle upon our shoulders.

''It does not have to be me. Prophecies are rarely what they seem.'' My sister's voice trembled slightly. ''It does not have to be me.''

I cleared my throat and spoke up. ''Are there other, uhm, candidates?''

''All the others are either too old or dead. There are no other candidates.'' Father was regarding us with unreadable eyes. I could only wonder what he was thinking about.

Nico leaned back in his chair and tightened his hold on the table. ''What's the plan?''

The god frowned slightly and gazed at Bianca with almost worried eyes. ''There are a few options. One of them being the Lotus Hotel.''

''The one in Las Vegas?'' The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. ''Lotus Hotel and Casino, I think. From what I have heard one does not age there.''

''Yes, that one. Wherever did you hear of it?'' His hand slid through his dark, silky hair. I would like to say that is made him seem almost human, but it would have been a lie. He did not let me answer his question. ''It does not matter. The problem with this option is that you would have to wait for the time when one of my brother's would finally decide to have a child of their own. That wouldn't have been difficult, if not for the fact that they are planning to make a pact that prevents us from having mortal offspring.''

My sister leaned her head on the table. ''It could be decades or centuries till a new child of Zeus or Poseidon would be born. And I certainly do not want you to sacrifice one of our siblings.'' Her eyes widened. ''By the gods, Jerome. If one of us doesn't become the 'Hero', he will have to.''

I rubbed my temple. A headache was coming. ''We do not have much of a choice either. The moment our dear uncles find out about our existence, they will be out to get us. We will either die or be trapped here for the rest of our existence.''

''Nora is right.'' Nico gazed into Bianca's eyes. ''Father cannot make us immortal. The other gods would never approve. There cannot be another war so soon after we lost this one.''

None of us had dared to mention father's inevitable loss before. ''Jerome is too young to be taken away from his mother. If we would do that, he might hate us for doing so in the future.''

''Then we could just let the prophecy pass. It doesn't have to be about me.'' Bianca was stubbornly looking down at the table.

Did she really think we would do that? Take the chance of putting a horrible fate upon her? Was she really that naive?

Luckily, father got involved before an argument could break out. ''You know that I wont let that happen, Bianca. The risks are to high. If you truly fear for Jerome's safety so much, I could bring him to the hotel when he is old enough.''

''Aren't we even debating the hotel idea anymore?'' She sounded almost hysteric. Actually she was hysteric, I could feel the strong emotion creeping into me.

I was sure I looked just as agitated as Nico did.

''Calm down, daughter.'' And she did just that. Not even we denied father something when he used that voice. ''Together with your siblings you will go into the Lotus Hotel. You have no other choice. Out of all the options that's the best one. You will obey me.''

''Yes, papa.'' The three of us chorused. I suspected that there weren't really any other options to begin with. Father, most likely, planned this from the start.

Bianca pursed her lips. This wasn't the end of this discussion. My sister wouldn't say anything now, not while our father was in such a foul mood, but she would do so in the future.

She would try and she would fail.

There really wasn't any way for us to escape our destiny, huh?


Letting go was never easy.

It wasn't just getting rid of an unwanted object. Neither was it just uttering the word 'goodbye' to a person one would never see again.

Letting go was like loosing a part of oneself. I knew that better than most.

Nadia Nowikow was an average young girl. She had a large family; a mother, a father, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. The 21th century offered her many future possibilities. She was a girl with an unknown future and a life filled with modern perks.

Nadia Nowikow was a dead girl.

Nora di Angelo replaced her. Maybe not so much replaced as was forced to become. Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly.

I didn't know if that comparison was accurate. Many people considered the butterfly to be more beautiful than the caterpillar. 'Nora' was anything but beautiful.

She was born from a girl that lost everything. Her family, her home, her future.

I was Nadia and Nora.

Yet, I preferred to keep those two(personalities? entities?) separated. Compared to 'Nora', 'Nadia' had been an innocent and naive girl. She had been good.

'Nora' was what remained of a girl that lost everything and learned to let go for her own survival.

To survive I had to let go of my first family, friends, home and future. I had to somehow accept a new life. A life where almost none of what I considered as normal existed. No TVs, no internet, no microwaves, no smartphones and so many other things.

Could I truly compare what we were currently going through to what I once had to survive on my own?

No. Letting go of my previous life was a lot of harder than any of this would ever be. And even though I already got used to this new time period, I wouldn't exactly miss it.

I now knew of the past, the present and the future. I also knew that the future would be shitty but not all that worse than the past.

Letting go of the 20th century wouldn't be hard. There wasn't anything I particularly enjoyed here that couldn't be found in another time.

What I had a problem with was saying 'goodbye' to the people I had come to care about. There weren't many of them, mind you. I think that was what made the whole situation so bad.

In this new life as 'Nora' I did not have much socially wise. There had been my mother who was dead now.

Which left me with my immortal father, two siblings who would be coming with me, a french woman that taught me how to bake and reminded me of one of 'Nadia's' aunts and lastly Jerome, the little brother that was too young to leave his family but would join us on our adventure soon enough.

Among them was only one person whom I truly needed to let go of.

Charlotte

For a second I wondered if I should even bother. That thought alone scared me enough into doing what was right. I would regret it someday if I did not seek her out one last time.

When had I become so cold? I did not want to know.

A small part of me wanted to forget. What exactly I wasn't sure. Maybe who I was. What would happen tomorrow. How I constantly lied to myself.

(I pretended to not care about the fact that in some ways I would miss eighty years of a life I could have had. I pretended that what was to come did not scare me.)

My footsteps were silent as I walked through the dark streets of Washington, D.C. Many people bustled around me, trying to finish their endeavors before it was too late and the shops started to close.

Sometimes I wished to be like them. To not know what dangers this world truly offered. To only worry about a job and how to get a good husband. To have meaningless worries and a safe life.

Sometimes I wished to be fully mortal. Not a reincarnation of another universe that remembered her family's gruesome future, unable to change anything for the better.

Mother was dead. Would Bianca also die because of my incompetence? What if I somehow stopped her death and caused Nico's instead?

I wasn't capable enough to safe mother. My presence alone did not change enough for us not to land in the Lotus Hotel.

Was all that destined to happen? Were the Fates that cruel?

My feet stopped moving in front of a familiar door. There was a large colorful sign above it.

Charlotte's Sweets and Sweeties

The store had already closed. But I knew that Charlotte would be still inside, preparing goods for the next day.

Involuntarily, one of my hands moved up and knocked on the door. Once, twice, thrice.

Through a window next to the door I saw a dark figure leaving the kitchen at the other end of the store. She shuffled towards the wall and used a light switch to turn on a lamp. ''Je serai là!''

The store was lightened by a small lamp on the counter. Charlotte strolled slowly towards the door, looking suspiciously through the window. She did not expect any visitors.

When she finally noticed me a small smile came upon her face. The woman hurried and opened the entrance for me. ''Bonsoir, petit amour. What are you doing here so late?''

Her blonde locks were tousled and flour stained the front of her clothes. There was even some chocolate on her right cheek.

''May I come inside?'' Rarely did my voice sound so unsure.

This seemed to worry the older woman. She moved backwards and ushered me inside the store. ''Of course, Nora. Come inside.''

With her hand on my back she started leading me towards the kitchen. Almost unconsciously, my eyes observed the store. Would it still be here in a few decades?

The kitchen was warm. Charlotte must have forgotten to close the oven when she hurriedly left the room to see who was knocking. There was even a cake in there.

''Chocolat. Your favorite.'' The blonde ruffled my hair lightly and after putting gloves on her hands she pulled the backing tin out of the oven and onto the counter. ''Why are you here, Nora? Did you have a fight with your siblings?''

I sat down on a chair and leaned my elbows on the table before me. ''No, I did not fight with my siblings.''

''Ah.'' She started cutting a few strawberries that she had taken out of the fridge. ''Your papa, perhaps?''

I did not answer immediately, waited till she finished preparing my dessert and put a plate of chocolate cake and strawberries on the table. With an encouraging smile Charlotte sat down across from me. ''You should wait till le gâteau cools down.''

''Thank you, Miss Charlotte.'' Using a fork, I put a strawberry into my mouth. Then another one. ''I did not fight with my father either.''

Charlotte hummed and took a strawberry for herself. ''But something is troubling you.''

She had always been very perceptive. I believed Charlotte even suspected that there was something different about me. That I wasn't completely human.

I took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. ''I am leaving.''

Her smile slid off her face and a small frown marred her forehead. Another strawberry was popped into her mouth. ''You are not coming back.''

''Not in time to see you again.'' With the fork I cut a piece of the cake and stuffed it into my mouth. I did not care about the burns it left me.

Charlotte stood up and went to the fridge. She took out a bottle of milk and poured it into a glass.

''Here.'' I took the glass out of her hand. ''I do not believe that not seeing me again is what truly troubles you.''

I bit my lip. ''I care about you.''

''That I do not doubt. But neither do I think that it is what troubles you.'' The blonde woman had a gentle look in her eyes. ''What happened, Nora?''

My gaze moved to the wall behind her. ''I fear what the future holds.''

She would never know the true meaning behind my words, and yet what she said next still managed to comfort me. Even if only tiny little bit. ''You are still so young, Nora. To fear le futur, that is not a good thing. Especially because le futur holds so many possibilities. If you fear it, you will get stuck in the past and never experience what the world truly has to offer. Be it bad or good.''

''The problem is that there might be a lot of more 'bad' than 'good'.'' I mumbled dispassionately.

Our eyes met and Charlotte reached out with her hand to take mine. ''I cannot deny that.''

She did not say anything else and I was glad that she didn't. There wasn't anything that could be done to stop my fears. Tomorrow I would enter the Lotus Hotel and Casino. I would spend there what felt like one or two months but actually would be more than seven decades.

When we would finally leave the hotel a new century would be there to great us. A century in which my elder sister was fated to die.

This whole thing was a tragedy in the making.

I did not want to face the future. Meeting Percy Jackson did not sound as great as it did when I was an eleven years old Nadia.

Being a part of the war sounded even less appealing.

For the first time in years I felt like crawling under my bed and never coming out again.

.

.

.

That did not stop me from entering the Hotel on the 6th March 1945.