บท 85: DA : Chapter 85: Third Front II
"And being a Love goddess means you can't lie to yourself about your feelings right?"
She nodded again, this time looking surer of herself.
"Then I'll stop denying my own," he replied before he lowered his head to hers.
...
She gasped in surprise as their lips met for the first time in a gentle embrace. He relished in the soft feel as his arms slowly circled her waist and pulled her closer as she returned it in a moment with her hands rested against his chest.
It lasted too short in his opinion though as they heard a throat clearing followed by a snicker as both broke the lip-lock and looked towards the noise.
There was Hestia and Rhea, both giving fanged grins as they looked between the two, at times eyeing how Percy's arms were still around Andy's waist. He glanced at her and noticed her silvery blush as she cuddled a little closer, partially turning her face away from the two goddesses that would obviously tease her on being caught.
"So I take it she agreed?" Rhea asked as Hestia giggled behind her hand.
"Yep," he replied, suddenly feeling as an immense weight had been removed from his shoulders, loving the feeling of having Andy in his arms again.
"Great," Hestia chirped as the two got closer. "Then that means we're all engaged!"
"Come here!" Rhea shouted in glee as she all but snatched Andy out of Percy's arms and pulled her in for a quick smooch.
Andy made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a squawk in surprise, too shocked to actually return it before Rhea broke off.
"Well someone needs to get more enthusiastic," she quipped before grinning shamelessly at Percy with quick glances at his lower regions. "Enjoyed the view?"
'Yes,' he thought while studiously looking to Hestia and denying Rhea her entertainment. At least Hestia was on his side as she cuddled up to him, his arms automatically wrapping around her waist as the pairs eyed each other.
"So … what now?" Hestia asked after some comfortable silence.
Percy had been about to suggest heading back to the party for a little longer before heading home until he noticed how Andy was biting her lip nervously. "Andy, something on your mind?"
His question got his wives to focus on the love goddess as well, making said goddess look even more nervous.
"Um … I think that before we go any further, I need to tell you all something."
"… Yes?" Rhea coaxed after Andy remained silent for over a minute, her eyes looking anywhere but them.
"I might have, sort of, let my domains get the best of me … in regards to Percy," she supplied as they got even more curious. "And it has to do with my guardian."
"Which ones?" Hestia asked with an innocent tilt of her head.
"Procreation," Andy squeaked as she glanced at Percy before blushing furiously, all the while as Rhea narrowed her eyes.
"Explain," was Rhea's order as Andy gulped while shooting Percy a look.
It was the same one he'd gotten numerous times whenever Andy had gotten in trouble and was scolded by Nyx, which usually lead to said trouble having some form of connection to him. And he thought his personal troubles had been solved for the evening. Oh well, out of the pan and into the fire…
...
Later in the Night.
( Nicoa POV )
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, an unusual amount of sadness in his voice. "You said it would have taken possibly another year. What happened?"
"Ideally yes, it would have. By that time the council would have all but crushed most of the Olympians and stabilized most of the mystic world and only left to hunt down the cowards that managed to avoid death on the battlefields," replied a deeper, ancient voice.
"However, between my assistance in reforming them, training you all, and your own exponential growth in power … it would be best to properly pass on the reigns sooner rather than later."
"… How many have awakened and escaped already?" he asked as he sighed, his hand running through his dark hair as he looked at his mentor.
"Koios, Krios, and Pallas have escaped to the surface already. Luckily the particularly messy titans such as Perses and Menoetius were hunted down and slain by Percy before they could realize I was weakening," Tartarus answered as he slumped into a large throne, looking down at Nico with dulling red eyes from within his ever-shadowing hood.
"My days were always numbered since the days I created this prison and now that time is here."
Nico bit his lip as he digested his mentor's words. Tartarus, as well as the other primordials, had not always been wise or understanding. Once upon a time they were worse than anything the Olympians or Titans could have been combined.
A time of endless creation and destruction on this planet until it nearly came to an end for all. When many of the elder primordials finally saw their own foully, it was almost too late.
Unspeakable horrors roamed the world, the bones of ancient civilizations predating the modern man lying in ruin and forgotten to most, the skies raining fire and lightning while most of the seas churned with blood and acid. Day was scolding and night was freezing, the very air seeming to pulse with poison mist.
And worst of all, was the loss of their children within their own wars. The truth was that none of the known beings, from the Hundred-Handed Ones to the Titans were the first children of the protogenoi.
There had been many before and almost all had met their end under the wrath of the primordials. Who these beings were or why the primordials had been so enraged to begin with, none of the elder gods would say.
That horror forced many of the elder protogenoi into self-imposed damnation. Erebus, suffering from a self-loathing of apocalyptic proportions, used most of his essence to cleanse some of the world before all but taking his own life.
That lead to centuries of the world being blanketed in night as Nyx wept, even going as far as birthing Achlys, primordial goddess of Misery and Sadness.
Aether, Hemera, and Chronos retreated into the heavens in isolation and shame. Gaea and Uranus went to sleep for a time, unable to cope with the destruction.
And the eldest, Tartarus, being unable to eradicate all the creatures on his own at the time gave up his own true body to create a prison for the monstrosities they had released.
Only the strongest of beings could give up their body of birth and then recreate a new one but Tartarus didn't as another means of self-punishment.
He remained mostly in a phantasmal state, watching over his prison meant to draw the essence of divine beings and monsters alike, keeping them apart where once they used to reform within days unless completely destroyed, and then hopefully keep them imprisoned within.
Now with every day he spent with his temporary body created to train the new council and then blessing Nico, his time was running out. Having Nico claim his title as heir had been the final nail in the coffin.
"So … are you ready to claim your place by your brethren?" Tartarus asked, his voice truly carrying the weight of the eons on his shoulders. At Nico's hesitation, Tartarus continued.
"You know you must. With the last of my strength I will keep the hordes of monsters still within Tartarus contained before you assume your reign but there will be a window where more could escape, especially the horrors within the bowels of this very castle."
As if to prove his point the entire castle shock with a muffled roar from the ground beneath them, the ancient Horrors, as they were known, having stirred upon feeling their shackles weakening. Dust rained down from the dark rafters of the massive hall as Tartarus slumped further into his throne.
Nico grit his teeth but accepted that it was time and there was nothing he could do about it. He nodded before straightening himself and standing at attention to give his mentor his last respects.
"I, Nico Di Angelo, am heir of Tartarus, Primordial of the Pit. Does anyone dispute my right?"
Nothing the dust and faint screams of the damned answered him.
"Then henceforward I claim my place as Primordial of the Pit!" he shouted as the entirety of the castle began to shake.
His entire frame radiated dark red miasma and darkness, his veins glowing with hellfire coursing through them as pain assaulted him but he kept his eyes level with his mentor. He watched as an orb of churning purple and red phased out of Tartarus and slammed into his own chest, doubling the pain that he felt. It felt like he was burning for hours even if he knew it was only seconds as he felt an explosion of pressure through his back.
He finally dropped to a knee as he panted, the sweat literally steaming off his frame. As he hungrily gulped in the air he looked up to see his mentor's hood removed for the first time. Skin that had long since greyed and chalk white hair spilling to his cheeks, dull red eyes set within a sharp face looked at him.
Tartarus, the most feared of the primordials, harbinger of damnation, never looked more human and frail even as a small smile adorned his face.
With a small nod and silence, a gentle breeze passed on the ancient throne of the eldest son of Chaos as he dissolved into white dust that almost looked as pure as billowing snow. His mentor and friend, gone for good.
A quiet passing just like he would have wanted and all the while Nico couldn't stop the single tear that rolled down his cheek. Still, he pushed on as he stood, new power humming within him as the very Pit responded to his will … and he was angry.
He knew it would pass but not right now. Right now he missed his mentor, wished that he'd had more time to get to know and learn from Tartarus, to continue training under him and make him proud.
To leave Tartarus with some true happiness after such a long time of misery. The others of the council had become the children the elder primordials had lost and each left with a smile for the brief time their family was whole. Tartarus was family to Nico, and if there was one thing that he could never deal with, it was the loss of family.
His fists clenched as he glanced over his shoulders to see his new wings. Black-charred bone, red torn membranes, and hellfire dripping off the fringes, how fitting.
Without pause he turned from the throne as he summoned his blade, Damnation, to his hand as he willed the throne floor before him to open. It cracked and groaned as it did so, revealing a seemingly endless pit of darkness and decay but within Nico could see the glowing eyes.
Shades of reds, yellows, and orange locked onto him, growls and the sound of claws scrapping along echoed as the Horrors bore witness to their new jailor.
They had been lucky. Without his true body Tartarus had been unable to face them on equal footing and slay them. The other children of Chaos had lacked the ability to kill these beings.
Their prison had been meant to weaken all but the master of the Pit and none of Tartarus' siblings could wield Hellfire, one of the few creations able to destroy even divine essence in mass … until the creation of Percy's Voidfire. However, Nico did not suffer these shortcomings.
Nico's grip on his sword tightened as the length ignited in Hellfire as he glared down at them.
He knew Percy had eradicated the Horrors locked in the deepest reaches of the House of Night days after ascending himself and now it was Nico's turn to put to rest the last of the Horrors. And if it helped work out his own frustrations, all the better.
Without another sound, he took a step and descended into the true Hell of this world…
===================
Don't forget to throw some power Stones, to keep the story going.
...
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