Percy Jackson, Son of Chaos

A Golden Savior

~3rd Person~

A pale, skinny boy lay against the wall of an alley, face drenched in sweat as he succumb to his own personal darkness.

Nico had been shadow travel very frequently, desperately grasping at the answers still so far from his reach. It wasn't often that he lost his cool, almost never actually, and yet a small pulse of death had set him adrift.

It had been nearly two weeks now. Two weeks since the two-time savior of Olympus, Perseus Jackson, had disappeared. Two weeks since Nico's life shattered right before his eyes. But most importantly,

Two weeks since Nico last felt Percy Jackson's life-force.

Nico's breathing came in choked gasps as he struggled to calm his frantic nerves. No matter where he went, no matter who he asked, the answer was always the same. No one had even caught whiff of the son of Poseidon since he had disappeared.

Nico brought his right hand into view, his arm burning in protest. His hand was a deathly white in the pale light of the waning moon, his skin seemingly transparent as it clung for dear life onto his bones. For that was all he was now,

Skin and bones.

Nico hadn't eaten for around a week now, his nerves getting the better of him. The only thing still keeping him alive was the small sip of nectar he stole from his bottle every hour or so.

A few moments passed as Nico slowly built up the courage to stand again. It had been none stop shadow traveling since the moment Percy's life force disappeared, and it had really taken quite a toll on him.

Using the wall for support, Nico slowly scooted himself into a stand, leaning heavily on the brick wall. He didn't have to look in the mirror to know he had major bags under his eyes, and a cold sweat to match. To anyone passing by, he probably looked like a train wreck.

Which, in all fairness, wasn't actually far from the truth. He waged a constant war against himself, the logical side of his brain in a constant brawl with his emotions. He wanted so desperately for this all to be a nightmare, a sick joke if you must. And yet, the logical side of him told him that this was very much real, and that the one he felt fondly for did indeed pass into the void.

Nico closed his coal-black eyes, searching for just about the millionth time that hour for a special life-force. The one that could pull Nico from this darkness that consumed him and set him free of his sorrows.

Despite his efforts, Nico caught not even the slightest trace of Percy's life-force, the object of desire no were to be found. It was as if Percy had never existed. As if he simply vanished from this world, leaving only memories and sorrow in his wake.

And Nico absolutely hated it.

Nico slammed his bony fist against the wall, the force of impacted only enough to create a dull thud. He refused to except the fact that Percy may be gone, that the kelp head had somehow, someway, met his match and gotten himself killed. Even the thought seemed absurd.

Nico brought his fist in front of him once more, watching as a crimson liquid began to ooze its way down his hand and onto the asphalt beneath him. The sight of blood no longer sickened him as it once had when he had first found out he was a demigod. Now the thick substance seemed to be only another part of life, which it was for a demigod.

Nico parted with the brick wall, slowly walking forward on shaky legs. He knew shadow traveling back to Camp wasn't an option, not in this condition anyway.

And so, the young son of Hades spent the remainder of the brisk night stumbling though New York streets as he made his way, inch-by-inch, towards Camp Half-Blood.