Love Against All Odds

Oskar - Dreams

I settled into the bed's soft embrace. Fatigue washed over me like a gentle tide, and I succumbed to sleep's welcoming embrace almost instantaneously. 

Before long, my consciousness drifted away into the realm of dreams.

In my dream, I saw Nico standing alone amidst the gardens of Hades. He had just finished digging a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, an act I suspected wouldn't sit well with my stepmother. Pouring wine into the earth, he began to chant fervently. 

"Let the departed taste life anew. Rise and accept this offering. Maria di Angelo, reveal yourself!"

As white smoke coalesced, a figure materialized, but it wasn't Nico's mother. Instead, it was a girl adorned in the garb of a Hunter, with dark hair, olive skin, and silvery attire. 

"Bianca," Nico uttered, bewildered. "But—"

"Don't beckon our mother, Nico," she cautioned. "She is the one spirit you are forbidden to summon."

"Why?" he pressed. "What is our father concealing?"

"Pain," Bianca replied. "Hatred. A curse dating back to the Great Prophecy."

"What do you mean?" Nico insisted. "I must understand!"

"Such knowledge will only wound you," Bianca warned. "Remember, harbouring grudges is a perilous flaw for children of Hades."

"I am aware," Nico asserted. "But I am not the same as I once was, Bianca. Stop trying to shield me!"

"Brother, you fail to grasp—"

Nico swept his hand through the mist, dispersing Bianca's image.

"Maria di Angelo," he called out again. "Communicate with me!"

A different apparition materialized, depicting Nico and Bianca as young children playing in the grand lobby of an opulent hotel, laughing and chasing each other around marble columns. Seated nearby was a woman clad in black attire reminiscent of a starlet from a bygone era, wearing gloves, a veiled hat, and a smile mirrored Bianca's, with eyes resembling Nico's.

Seated beside her was a stout man in a black pinstripe suit, his oily demeanour unmistakable—it was Hades. My father leaned in towards the woman, gesturing animatedly as he spoke, clearly agitated.

"Please, my dear," he implored. "You must come to the Underworld. I care not for Persephone's objections! I can ensure your safety there."

"No, mio amore," she replied, her Italian accent distinct. "Raise our children in the realm of the dead? I cannot agree to this."

"Maria, listen to me. The conflict in Europe has turned the other gods against me. A prophecy looms over us. My offspring are no longer secure. Poseidon and Zeus have coerced me into an accord. None of us are to sire demigod progeny ever again."

"But what of Nico and Bianca? Surely—"

"No! The prophecy speaks of a child reaching sixteen. Zeus demands that my existing children be surrendered to Camp Half-Blood for proper tutelage, but I understand his true intent. They'll be monitored, imprisoned, and turned against their father. More likely, Zeus won't take any chances. He won't permit my demigod offspring to reach their sixteenth year. He'll find a way to eradicate them, and I refuse to subject them to such peril!"

"Of course," Maria affirmed. "We shall remain united. Zeus is a fool."

I couldn't help but admire her resolve, though my father glanced anxiously upwards. "Maria, I beseech you. Zeus granted me a deadline of last week to deliver the children. His vengeance will be merciless, and I cannot safeguard you indefinitely. You are in jeopardy as long as you remain with the children."