Nico awoke in the middle of the night, awoken by the rampant screams of his brother. He was on his feet in a split second, sword already in hand. However, there was no one there bar them, at least not to his knowledge.
Valen was floating mid-air, not with the help of wind magic, but by the sheer amount of energy he was exuding. His stygian iron sword clattered to the floor as he gazed at the Darkness—the terrors it housed and the comfort it brought.
He could see what he could never before, Valen's soul was visible in the physical realm, and he could do nothing but watch—his limbs petrified in a bizarre mix of terror and serenity. His soul was nothing like any in the underworld nor like the souls of the demigods Valen had described to him.
It was completely cloudy black, with the occasional lightning. He could swear he saw some hellfire at its core. But before he could confirm it, his soul split, and the resulting explosion threw him back and into the obsidian wall of the cabin.
He hit his head on the rock, and his vision became dizzy, but he could still see how Valen's soul was split into three parts. The one on the right looked to be made purely out of black fire, the one on the right was like a mini thunderstorm with dark clouds and thunder roaming within.
He blinked and the two parts of his soul disappeared, leaving behind an unmarked grey canvas. The darkness claimed his soul and the room grew quiet.
Nico lost consciousness.
.
.
.
'Something's wrong,' Valen thought, and it was not the fact that he could not see anything. And that the goosebumps that would not leave him, although he could sense no soul nearby.
No, it was the fact that he could not feel his powers. The demigod abilities he got from his father and grandfather, neither shadow nor storm was anywhere to be found.
If he could see himself, he would notice how his hair lacked any color, like he had grown old in the span of seconds. Or how his blue and black heterochromatic eyes were replaced with dull grey ones.
The rest of his body was the same, he could feel that. He retained his demigod physiology, and the coldness of his ring brought him a sense of comfort.
He pushed on the ground, feeling it ripple beneath his fingers as he stood up. He had never been blind in the darkness, not even in Daedalus' Labyrinth, so why was it that he was blinded now?
The answer is, that he wasn't blinded at all. There was simply nothing but pure darkness around him, nothing to see, nothing to recognize. Valen almost jumped when a figure appeared out of the darkness, seemingly out of nowhere.
He was hard to look at, it was like he kept changing between appearances. It made Valen's head hurt. After a while, the man settled for a young appearance, looking to be in his mid-twenties. He had medium-length pitch-black hair that fell freely over his head, bar the back where he had it tied in a rat-tail. He wore a black suit accompanied by what seemed to be a mantle made of pure darkness.
Valen gulped, he could not sense his soul. Normally, that would imply him to be a monster, but he did not feel the same empty void from him that monsters had. No, it was like he couldn't see his soul because if he did, he would go mad.
"We meet again, edgewalker." His voice was like a million shades speaking at once, voices of all ages, genders, and races flooded Valen's ears and his vision became dizzy.
The being seemed to have caught his mistake and coughed into his fist. "Ahem, now, this is better I suppose?" He said, his voice settling on a deep bass, yet faint like a whisper.
Valen shook his head, "Who are you? What have you done to me? Why can't I-"
"Peace godling." he interrupted. "I will answer your questions, given you ask one at a time, understood?"
Valen nodded, for some reason he didn't want to offend him.
"Have a seat." He said, flicking his hand as two chairs materialized for them to sit on.
"To answer your questions," he said, "I am the primordial of Darkness, one of the original five. You are in my domain, specifically the endless expanse of darkness surrounding my palace."
"The primor- I-what?" Valen sputtered out. He was suddenly very grateful for the chair, he was certain he would have fallen otherwise. He took a deep breath in, processing what he had just heard. The deity watched silently, giving him the time to adjust.
"So," he said finally, inhaling deeply, "You're Erebus?"
"Or Scotus, if you prefer Latin." he said, nodding. "You can accept the existence of multiple pantheons and this surprises you?"
"No, I-" he shook his head, "I'm just shocked why you would visit me?"
"Can you think of no reason in particular?" he said an amused smile on his face.
Valen narrowed his eyes considering every plausible cause, until the answer hit him with all the force of a freight train.
"You're the one who marked me?!" he exclaimed.
Erebus smiled, "That I did."
"When?" he asked. "I don't remember ever meeting you before?"
"Oh, but you did," he said as a raven flied up to him and perched on his raised forearm, "do you not remember?"
Valen's eyes widened as an old memory assaulted his mind.
"Now, now," the raven spoke. It was as if millions of shades were whispering at once–male, female, old, young, kind, sinister, every kind of voice you could ever think of was there. "I can't let my sole investment die so soon."
Then, reality itself sipped open, a slash in the very air itself. Valen's heart beat rapidly, the things he saw from that one glimpse were indescribable, the worst horrors mankind had ever experienced.
Valen had never been afraid of darkness before, how could he, being who he was? The darkness was where he thrived, his father's domain empowered him. But now, that belief had shattered, he felt foolish to even think the darkness could be anyone's domain, it was untamable, it could not be controlled, only resisted.
He was never in control, he merely had the illusion of it. No, it was always the darkness that controlled him.
"Be not afraid my anchor, the great beyond shall not harm you."
"During the attack on camp," Valen whispered, "when Kampe almost killed Bianca, you were there…"
He nodded, "Without my interference there, you would have succumbed to your wounds."
"That was when you marked me."
"Technically, I marked you right after your fight with Atlas." Erebus said. "You might remember hearing a raven's cry right before you passed out."
"I knew it wasn't just my imagination," he muttered under his breath. "So, what? You've been stalking me ever since?"
"Yes," he said without missing a beat. "With how suicidal you are, I could not leave you alone lest you perish before your time."
"I'm not suicidal," Valen protested.
"Your actions speak otherwise." he retorted.
Valen sighed, "Moving on, what happened to my powers? Why can't I use them?"
"Ah yes, that," Erebus sighed, "I might have ripped your soul in three."
"WHAT?!"
"Calm down, it is not as bad as you think," he said. "I merely separated parts of Hades and Thor's essence from you."
"And that's supposed to reassure me?!"
"No," he said bluntly, "that is supposed to make it easier for you to adapt to my essence."
"What?"
"Think of it like a painting, with Hades and Thor's essence polluting it I could not make you my host, not without overpowering them and possibly destroying your powers." He began, "As it is now, you are a blank canvas, prone to change. Your powers are out there on Earth, waiting for you patiently. In the meantime, I shall mold your body to better host me so that you are ready for the upcoming conflict."
Valen almost sighed in relief, he hadn't permanently lost his powers. He could get them back. But then the rest of what Erebus said hit him. "What do you mean by conflict?" he asked. If a primordial was involved in it, he half didn't want to know what it was.
"Another war, one that will make the second Titanomachy look like a playground squabble." he said grimly. "A war where nature itself is torn asunder, one which even we primordials cannot ignore."
Valen gulped, he wished he hadn't asked. "When?" He managed to croak out.
"As soon as she awakens," he said vaguely. "Come, we have much to do."
He walked away and Valen followed, the door to a massive palace not far off.
.
.
.
'I have to get there,' she thought as she ran faster and faster towards her destination. 'I need to do this for her, I need to know what happened to my father.'
She screeched to a stop, wheezing with her hands on her knees. In the distance stood a hill, with a lone pine tree glittering gold. Behind that was her destination and her mission. Behind that, stood Camp Half-Blood.
Inhaling deeply, she took off once again. She would learn the truth, no matter what it cost. Where she stood on the ground, a face grew from the mud, and a sleeping woman smiled with no warmth behind her lips.
"Go then my daughter, prove to me you are worthy and bring the haughty gods down from their throne in the sky."