Being on the run from monsters was not something Nico had been expecting to do in his life. For all his love for Mythomagik, Nico had never believed the cards to be based on real life events. Who would ever expect myths to be real? It was madness! Yet here he was running away from the Lotus Hotel and Casino, after having been trapped in there for about seventy years. Nico had not believed that until he stepped outside of the hotel and saw how much civilization had changed. It was so loud and colorful, so chaotic!
What made everything worse was the fact that Nico was following four ghosts. Yes, you heard him right. Four ghosts! Not only myths were real, but so were ghosts! Nico was sure he was losing his mind.
"Shouldn't we go back for Bea?" Nico asked with a scared look as he walked down the crowded streets of Las Vegas. "You said that place was a monster hub, isn't she in danger?"
"She is safe," Albert assured him. "The Lotophaguses need her alive, like every person in there. However, you are awake They see you as a danger to their operation and try to take you out."
"Not to mention that you are lacking in training," Alexander pointed out with a huff. "Before for we even think of mounting a rescue mission, we will need to give you some training."
"Albert, Alexander, that's enough," Helena spoke up, arms wrapping around the scared 10-year-old boy. "You are scaring him. Harry, what should we do? You said that you know some cloaking spells that will hide Nico from monsters. "
"I know many," Harry sighed. "But before we even think of using them, we need to find a house. Putting up wards will be easier than creating a moving mist cloak. Nico is clearly a child from a powerful deity of the Underworld and has a strong leaning to magic, especially necromancy and shadowbending. But he is young and untrained. There's only so much we can do... we are all deal after all."
"I still have the Lotus Hotel and Casino card," Nico pointed out. "It is unlimited and from what Helena taught me I can use it to buy things. We could buy a house."
"Make it big," Alexander was quick to order. "We need a gym and training room to get you ready to face monsters."
"A library as well," Albert nodded his head, for once agreeing with the son of Ares. "Your education should not be neglected. Though, it would be safer to home's school you. Less opportunity for monsters to target you in a protected house. I'll tutor you and help you adjust to the 21st century."
"We will need a room specifically for magic," Harry added. "A place for you to practice and stir potions."
"Once that's done, I'll take you shopping and teach you all about pop culture!" Helena cheered.
"Pop culture?" Nico repeated, very confused but shrugged it off and followed the ghosts' lead.
Harry taught Nico a spell to make them visible to humans. That way no one would question why a 10-year-old boy was buying a house or signing him up to be home schooled. Though it took a lot of Nico at the beginning, leaving him to take a long hap afterwards. With time it became easier for Nico to perform the spell.
As for the house, with each day it became homier. The card became a life saver when Albert demanded to buy a bookshop worth of books and Alexander ordered Nico to get all the equipment that a new state of arts gym would have. Somehow, still, Helena was the one who ended up spending the most money.
Only an Aphrodite child could manage that. Giving them an unlimited card should be a crime.
"Now this is life!" Helena sighed happily as she dragged Nico into a Dior store. The retail shop keepers took one look at the bags Nico's summoned zombie butlers were holding, seeing the Gucci, Fendi, Balenciaga, Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, logos, and could not move faster to give them the best care of the world.
Nico held Helena close to his heart. He had never met such a kind and thoughtful soul like hers since his mamma died. Or at least, he thought she died. He has been trapped for around eighty years in the Lotus Hotel Casino, after all. But Helene had not always been this gentle soul.
Helena used to be this stunning party girl. A classic beauty – silky dark hair, eyes like the night, and skin as smooth as pearls. Plus, she rocked her Asian heritage, adding an extra dash of allure. So, Helena lived life like one endless party. Love? Pfft, for her, it was a game. She'd sleep with whoever caught her eye, not caring much about the consequences. But, as luck would have it, she tangled with the wrong guy – a man with an angry wife. Things went south quickly. The wife, fueled by rage, took matters into her own hands, and offed Helena. Yeah, you heard it right – game over for our party queen.
Now in the afterlife, Helena wasn't done learning. She had this crazy revelation – love and life are deeper than she ever thought. Ironic, right? She's dead, but suddenly, she gets what it means to truly live and love. Helena, in the afterlife, becomes this soul who's all about appreciating the depth of emotions and the richness of existence. It's like she found the ultimate afterparty, but this time, it's about embracing the crazy, complicated beauty of life.
Life's funny that way, isn't it? Even in death, you can discover the stuff that really matters.
"I don't think this could get better!" Helena continued, as she left Nico in a changing room, to point at what clothes the shopkeepers had bring to Nico. She might be visible thanks to the spell, but she was still intangible. "He is a cool winter, make sure no unflattering colors come his way!"
"I've never met a more cheerful dead person in my life," Nico muttered under his breath as he glared at the clothes that kept piling up. "Is all of this really necessary?" He whined.
"You will thank me once you are the most stylish kid in Las Vegas and you have every boy following you like a lost puppy," Helena teased him, making him blush to the roots. "Though, you are right, I did go overboard. Luckily you summoned us all these zombies. Otherwise, we would have been overwhelmed by the bags."
That's right, Nico's necromancy has been getting better and better each day under the tutelage of Hary. The Di Agelo Manow was haunted by many zembles, ghosts, spirits, and shades that took care of the chores and patrolled at night. Lost souls all over Las Vegas have come to make the Manor their home. It was an odd life, the one Nice had been living in the last half a year, but it kept him safe and prepared. Also, he felt at home among the dead. Not to mention, when you have a 3 Michelin star chef as your personal chef, you have no right to complain about anything. No matter how inhyegic it was to eat food cooked by someone dead.
"I still can't believe that same sex marriage has been legalized," Nico murmured with a bashful smile. "Or that... we are no longer being hunted down and stoned to death."
"Massachusetts might be the first, but not the last," Helena assured him. She was proud of the advance he had made. It took her a long time to have him even admit his preferences without having a panic attack. But after months of careful care, he was a different boy. Braver, which one would expect after leaving the 30's. "Now go ahead and try these clothes!" Nico chuckled, shaking his head, and went to do as ordered.
Once they were done, they rushed towards the manor. One does not want to be late for a lesson with a son of Athena. The moment you step inside the private library of the Di Angelo Manor, you're greeted by the rich aroma of aged leather and the subtle scent of polished wood. The walls were adorned with dark mahogany bookshelves, reaching from floor to ceiling, each one meticulously organized and showcasing an impressive collection of books. The shelves are interspersed with paintings portraying various myths and vintage globes, adding a touch of history and sophistication to the room.
Soft, ambient lighting emanates from elegant chandeliers with warm-toned bulbs, casting a gentle glow that invites you to explore the treasures hidden within the pages of countless books. The ceiling, adorned with intricate moldings, adds an air of grandeur to the space, creating an atmosphere that is both refined and inviting.
In the center of the room, you'll find a large, mahogany reading table with plush, high-backed chairs placed around it. The table is adorned with fresh flowers in a crystal vase, providing a pop of color and a hint of natural fragrance. This cozy reading nook was bathed in the soft glow of an antique desk lamp, creating a perfect spot to dive into a good book or engage in thoughtful conversation.
The windows were dressed in heavy, velvet curtains that could be drawn to create a sense of intimacy and seclusion. As you browse the shelves, you'll notice the occasional crackling sound of a fireplace in the corner, where a crackling fire adds both literal and metaphorical warmth to the room.
Every detail had been carefully curated to create a haven that seamlessly blends timeless elegance with a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It's a place where the love for literature meets the comfort of home, inviting you to lose yourself in the magic of books while surrounded by the embrace of luxury and familiarity.
Right in the big library, after a boring mathematics lesson, Nico was being taught Modern Greek. From Albert's opinion, it was quite a pity that demigods do not learn Modern Greek when their brains are already wired for Ancient Greek.
"It is quite a gift you're got," Albert hummed, as he was correcting Nico's test. Being with a Nico in the Manor with all its protection allows the ghosts to have more liberties in the living realm, like being able to write something down or move things. "Languages come quite easy to you Italian, English, Ancient Greek, and even Latin! Where did you even learn Latin?"
"No idea, "Nice answered with frown. "Like with Ancient Greek, I just know it."
"Must be perks of being the son of whatever god you have as a father," Albert I with a wry smile. A proud smile, making Nico's chest warm with pride. "But this speed, I'll be finishing teaching you Modern Greeks by the time you turn 12. Which is lucky for us because Helena has not stopped bothering me about letting her teach you French."
"Thank you for giving me a respite," Nico sighed. "There's so much to learn already, I don't think I can add French to the list right now."
Albert was once a distinguished professor at the University of Nevada. Physically, Albert was a captivating figure with the charm and allure. He had died at the age of 35, maintained a youthful handsomeness that seemed almost timeless. His blond hair neatly groomed and his grey eyes held a depth that hinted at the vast knowledge and experiences accumulated over years of scholarly pursuits. Dressed in a manner that blended professionalism with a touch of casual elegance, Albert's appearance often mirrored that of the archetype the university professor every student wanted to sleep with.
Emotionally, however, Albert's story took a darker turn. Despite his brilliance, he grappled with the talon of Achilles, a flaw shared by many children of Athena - hubris. His confidence, bordering on arrogance, blinded him to the perils that lurked beyond the realms of academia. As a self-proclaimed lone wolf, he had grown accustomed to facing challenges solo, relying on his intellectual prowess to navigate the complexities of life. This hubris ultimately proved to be his downfall when he encountered a monster beyond his capabilities. The very essence of his brilliance became the catalyst for his tragic end.
"Moving on," Albert chuckled. "Myths! There's not much written down about the various oracles, the Oracle of Delphi having hogged most of the attention. But there We're many more oracles in the Greco-Romanic mythology."
"First, we will start with the Grove of Dodona. It's this mystical place, a grove of sacred oak trees that were planted by the Titaness Rhea herself in the early days of the world. These weren't your ordinary oaks, though—they could talk." Albert began his explanation.
Nico's eyes widened in surprise, and he innocently asked: "Wait, trees that talk? Like, really talk?" As if he was not talking with a soul of the dead actually and he does not use necromancy daily.
"Exactly," Albert nodded, with a slight smile on his lips. He loves it when his students are fascinated by his lessons. "These sacred trees at Dodona had the ability to speak and, at times, even issued prophecies. It's fascinating, right? The priests of Dodona took great care of the trees. They believed that by hanging wind chimes in the branches, they could channel the voices of the trees and interpret their prophecies. It was like having nature itself reveal the secrets of the future."
"Wind chimes, seriously? This is blowing my mind." Nico was hanging on every word coming out Albert's mouth, he loves his Mythology lessons.
"Dodona was unique because it had no connection with Apollo, the God of Prophecy. Unlike other oracles tied to Apollo, the power of Dodona's trees came from Rhea, the Titaness and mother of the Olympian gods. The trees' powers were a direct gift from Rhea, not Apollo. It adds a unique twist to the whole oracle concept." Albert continued his lesson.
"Got it." Nico nodded his head, before stopping and frowning. "But, um, how reliable were these tree prophecies?"
"Well, as reliable as talking trees can be, I suppose. People believed in the sanctity of Dodona, and with proper care, the trees were thought to accurately foretell the future. It was like nature's own fortune-telling service." Now it was Albert's time to frown. He did not like to give out unfounded information, but there was not much known by mortals about the oracles- most of the information was kept confidential, believed to be too much power in the hands of mortals. "The prophecies were often cryptic, but they played a significant role in various myths and legends."
Nico beamed, the light from the lamp illuminating that blinding smile. "That's so cool. I never knew trees could be so involved in the whole prophecy business."
"Now, we shall continue with the Oracle of Trophonius. This time it's one of the four oracles associated with Apollo, but the Oracle of Trophonius is a bit more intense than the others." Albert sighed with an uncomfortable expression, the myths surrounding this oracle were never kind. "Picture this: you enter the temple, right? And the first thing you do is drink from both the black Fountain of Memory, Mnemosyne, and the Fountain of Forgetfulness, Lethe. The idea is to prepare the petitioner's mind for what comes next. The black Fountain of Memory is all about remembering, while the Fountain of Forgetfulness wipes the slate clean. It's like a mental reset button."
"Interesting..." Nico hummed but tensed as he felt Albert's discomfort. "So, what comes next?"
"Assuming you survive the dual-drink challenge, you move on to the Cave of Trophonius. Petitioners face untold horrors that bring forth what's described as "nightmarish verse." It's poetic, but in a terrifying way. The nightmarish verse, if properly assembled, acts as a portent to the future. But get this—it takes the form of a sonnet. So, you endure horrors and come out with a poetic prophecy. If you make it out without going insane or dropping dead, you sit on the Throne of Memory, crafted by the Titaness Mnemosyne. The verse you experienced in the cave. You recite it subconsciously. The priest writes it down, and that becomes the prophecy issued by the Oracle."
"Wait, a Throne of Memory? Subconscious recitation? This is getting weirder and weirder. What if you don't have the throne?" Nico fired question after question, all this information dump was confusing him.
"Without the Throne of Memory, you're stuck in the horrors of the cave forever. Talk about high stakes, right?" Albert grimaced.
Nico swallowed hard and leaned back on his chair. "Now that's an oracle I wish to never come to face."
"Let's hope no one ever has to face it," Albert sighed. "Now onto the third oracle, the Cumaean Sibyl."
"The who now? Cumaean Sibyl? Sounds like a character from a fantasy novel." Nico's excitement easily came back.
"Well, you're in for a treat. The Cumaean Sibyl was no ordinary mortal. She lived about a thousand years, Apollo, the sun god himself, granted her a wish on a beach near Southern Italy. He was smitten with her and offered her anything she desired. She asked for as many years of life as the grains of sand she could hold in two heaping handfuls. Apollo agreed, but here's the twist—she claimed it was hypothetical and refused to keep her end of the bargain. Apollo, not too pleased with being outsmarted, decided to punish her." Albert began retelling the tragic fate of the Cumaean Sibyl, her suffering was well-known worldwide.
Nico frowned in concern. "Punish her? What did he do?"
"Apollo granted her long life but not eternal youth. So, she could live for centuries but would grow old and wither without ever dying. He figured that would teach her a lesson." Albert smiled sadly at his student, as Nico's face twisted in a heartbreaking expression. "At the end of her life, the Cumaean Sibyl showed up in Rome during the reign of Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the last Roman king. She offered him a set of nine books containing prophecies that would shape the fate of the Roman Empire. Tarquin rejected her offer."
"The Sibyl, undeterred, burned three books and returned with the remaining six, offering the same deal. This went on until she had burned three sets of three books each. It is theorized that it was her way of emphasizing the importance of the prophecies. Tarquin finally gave in, fearing the consequences of refusing her. But tragedy struck later—the Temple of Jupiter, where the books were stored, burned down, and the prophecies were lost. Near the end of the Roman Empire, rumors spread that her body had crumbled away, yet she couldn't die. Her attendants managed to capture the faintest whisper of her voice in a glass jar."
"A whisper in a jar?" Nico's murmur was mournful. He loved his Mythology lessons, but at the same time he hated them- most of the myths end in tragedy and punishment.
"Alright, Nico, let's shift our focus to one of the most iconic oracles—the Oracle of Delphi, also known as the Pythia." Albert continued his lesson. "Delphi is a special oracle. Originally, it was a spring that whispered the future to those who listened. The Greeks called it omphalos, meaning "navel of the world," as it was believed to be at the geographic center.
"Navel of the world? That's a big title." Nico commented, interested. "Who was the first to get the Oracle's secrets?"
"Gaea, the Earth goddess, was the first to possess the Oracle of Delphi. Her daughter, the Titaness Phoebe, figured out how to hear the voices, making Delphi a divine hotspot. Gaea gave birth to Python to guard the cave after Deucalion and Pyrrha left. Later, when Leto, Phoebe's daughter, came looking for a place to give birth after Hera cursed her, Python chased her away. Apollo, born on Delos, eventually avenged his mother by killing Python and taking over the Oracle."
"Why is every myth I learn involve revenge, sex, or killing?" Nico huffed, rather fed up with the Olympus drama. "What about the Pythia? Who's she?"
"The Pythia was a priestess who stood on a tripod stool next to one of the fissures in Delphi. She would get riddles from Apollo, who took over the Oracle after dealing with Python. The spirit of the Oracle was passed on from maiden to maiden to continue speaking the prophecies." Albert answered, making Nico have more questions.
"What kind of advice did the Oracle give?"
"The advice from the gods was often vague, allowing it to fit various situations. People from all over, including Rome, Lydia, Caria, and even Egypt, would send representatives to consult the Oracle on important matters, from public policies to personal affairs." Albert explained. "The Oracle of Delphi played a pivotal role in shaping the destinies of individuals and nations. If you ever want more tales from the world of mythology, just let me know!"
Like always, Albert's lessons were followed by Harry's. As the entertaining and fun those lessons were, they are also the most draining ones of them all. Much to Alexander's mounting disappointment and everyone else's surprise.
Harry embodied the essence of Hermes, displaying all the distinctive attributes of the deity. It's essential to note that appearances can be deceptive; Harry's father, a son of Hermes, seduced Hecate to steal a precious magical artifact from her. This audacious act had severe repercussions, particularly following the birth of Harry. It ended with the death of Harry's father. Speaking of Harry, their innate magical prowess was evident, likely inherited from their mother. Though, they did inherit their grandfather's crafty and unconventional methodologies. Traits might have contributed to Harry's eventual demise.
During their life, Harry garnered widespread acclaim as a magician of unparalleled skill. Their ambitious venture involved a daring escape from an elaborate magical prison they had constructed. While the concept was grandiose, the execution proved flawed. Unfortunately, Harry's aspirations exceeded their capabilities, culminating in a tragic outcome.
Furthermore, Harry's self-identification as non-binary was pioneering for their era, introducing a concept that was largely unrecognized at the time. Additionally, their physical resemblance aligned more closely with the lineage of Hermes than Hecate, emphasizing the adage that one should not judge based solely on appearances.
Harry was a hard ass, both in life and death. They put Nico in gruelsome exercises that increased the boy's necromancy and shadowbending capacities daily. The regime was strict and borderline cruel, if not for the care and support Harry gave Nico. If Nico truly could not continue, Harry would stop. But if Niko was simply complaining, Harry would push him.
Harry also gave Nico lessons in potions and protection spells that were linked to talismans, as Nico's magic did not branch out into that area. Nico's blood though was as powerful and powered up every potion and protection talisman Nico ever made with just one drop.
"Your Grimoire is coming nicely," Harry praised Nico, knowing how hard the boy had been working on it. "We can start with mist manipulation soon. You seem to have a knack for it. If I did not know better, I would say you share a mother with me. Then again, you use can dream walk even though you are not a chill of Hypnos." Harry frowned thoughtfully before muttering to themselves lowly. "Who the Hades is your parental deity?!"
"Did you say something?" Nico inquired obliviously.
"Nothing," Harry smiled. "You better get going to sleep. Tomorrow morning you have training sessions with Alexander."
"Like every morning," Nico huffed tiredly.
Just like every morning, Nico woke up early to battle against zombie soldiers as Alexander kept barking orders.
Alexander, scion of Hades, followed the path familiar to many of his lineage by enlisting in the army. Rising to the rank of Captain during World War II, he distinguished himself as a leader with strength and commendable qualities. His rugged handsomeness, marked by a rough and edgy demeanor, black hair, intense eyes, and a square jaw, spoke of the harsh realities he faced on the battlefield—evidenced by the scars of a war hero.
Despite his military achievements and the array of medals adorning his uniform, the transition to civilian life proved insurmountable for Alexander. Struggling with the aftermath of war, he found solace in the neon-lit streets of Las Vegas. Here, the once valiant captain sought refuge in the bottom of a bottle, attempting to drown the demons that haunted him. Unfortunately, the medals that once shone in the dim light of wartime heroism provided no armor against the difficulties of reintegration into society.
Tragically, Alexander's tale took a somber turn, ending in the depths of despair. The bright lights of Las Vegas bore witness to his descent into alcohol-fueled oblivion, a desperate attempt to cope with the scars, both seen and unseen. The final chapter of this war hero's life unfolded in a pitiable manner—dead from the insidious clutches of alcohol poisoning. A poignant reminder of the struggles faced by soldiers who, without the necessary support, succumb to the unforgiving challenges of returning to civilian life.
"Watch that arm! You are overreaching boy!" Alexander growled. "I taught you better than that!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" Nico parroted back, grunting as he parried an upcoming attack and then decapitated the last zombie.
"It could have gone worse, you lived, at least," Alexander granted. Which was high praise coming from the fallen Captain. "Swords are indeed your weapon of choice. Me, on the other hand, give me a long rifle any day."
"My aim is not that bad," Nico protested, as he was panting and gasping for air after such a workout.
"It could be better," Alexander scoffed. "Now, if only we could get you a Stygian Iron sword. A beauty like that would work wonderfully with your powers!"
"The only way to get one is going to the Underworld," Nico pointed out warily.
"Luckily, we live nearby Los Angeles, where the gate to the Underworld is located," Alexander's evil smirk sent shivers down Nico's spine. "You could always shadow travel away if anything happens."
Realizing that there was no way out of it, horror dawned on him, as he cursed silently. "Dio Santo!"