#I just wanna say that the mexican hat was my father's idea xd

[percico-sea-of-darkness]

January 28th's Fire Escape [Part 2/3]

Second part of this fanfic. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you don't feel too out of place for my references to Mexican culture. Actually my writing at 4 in the morning is not my best XD

Happy birthday, Nico.

══════ •『 NICO 』• ══════

I fell face down with a puppy on top of me as I traveled through the shadows an approximate 10,000 km away. From the Temple of Quetzalcóatl in the municipality of Teotihuacán, Mexico, to the ceiling of the Catholic church 'Chiesa di Santa Maria del Giglio' in Venice, Italy.

Call me suicidal nomad. I think that's my definition for now.

After the war, things got a little interesting. I left the camp the same day as the Romans, and I decided to try new things.

Jason, even though he wanted me to stay at camp, and for some reason Will Solace too, in a pretty intense way, they couldn't convince me to stay. A few simple words from someone I had never spoken to was not going to magically change a mindset that had been established in me for several years, no matter how stubborn Will Solace was.

I spent a few days in New York without having the pressure of being in a war, without the pressure of my father calling me to solve some job in the underworld, just watching the people or the boring traffic while eating a McDonald's Big Mac.

Among those simple hobbies I realized something very discouraging. I loved animals. Yes, a very unfortunate thing, because my aura of death makes animals and certain people stay away from me. So I was wondering for a while what I could do, what was my next goal. My shadow travels got a little better each day, but I didn't want to force myself and fade into the shadows, so I really wasn't in much of a hurry to leave.

Being in constant observation led me to think a lot about the past, about the past that I still didn't remember clearly. My mother, Venice, the 30's. And regardless of what I was thinking, at the end of the day the only thing on my mind was Percy. Always ended up with Percy.

I cringed a bit. I tried to force it into my head that Percy, like everyone I know: Reyna, Jason, Clarisse, even Travis Stoll, were making their own lives, the lives they’d wanted after the war.

I guess they’re misfortunes of me being the youngest and having no memories. Misfortunes of not being of this century. And misfortunes of being a son of Hades.

I tried to get it into my head that Percy was doing pretty well right now, finishing high school and preparing for college in New Rome… with Annabeth, with the wise and always correct Annabeth. Even the small and still almost imperceptible aura in Percy's apartment hinted that Poseidon's son would soon become a big brother.

I was happy for him. I was glad that Percy was finally finding some peace and normalcy in his life. Unfortunately, not being able to be part of that normalcy turned my stomach. I was always going to be a bad omen for Percy. I was the one who took him to the underworld with my idea of immortality, I was the one who kept him in the shadows at camp jupiter, I was the one who was weak enough not to hold his hand when he hung over Tartarus, there was even a time when I had so angry that I could have traded his soul for Bianca's without thinking.

I was a danger to Percy. I think that was clear. Favonius and Cupid had been right all along.

With that thought running through my mind for days, I decided to go into various public libraries to research more mythologies, to see if I could find anything useful. I know, what the hell was I going to find in a library to do something with my life? That's what I thought the first four times I entered the building. I remember there was a dusty section at the end of the hall, and I, unsurprisingly, was drawn to the old stuff and unnoticed. So I ventured out there one afternoon with a packet of chips and a soda I had smuggled in.

A sentence on the cover of a book caught my attention.

Life cannot exist without death.

I picked up the book and began to leaf through it delicately.

«Life cannot exist without death, that is why I am here. My name is Mictlantecuhtli and within Mexica mythology I am the lord of darkness. In my kingdom, called Mictlan, I welcome all humans who die naturally. I was created by the gods Huitzilopochtli and Quetzalcóatl, the most important gods in this mythology. They thought that to value life, they had to create the god of death. How can you love the light without knowing the shadow? That's why, just why I'm here. My name is pronounced in Nahuatl. It's made up of two words: Mictlan, 'mansion of the dead', and Tecutli, 'lord'. And it translates as 'the lord of the mansion of the dead'. I am the ruler over the death of human beings, but I am also the giver of life.»

My first thought was 'this is really epic, with your permission, father.'

I continued to do some research on this unknown deity, and upon reaching a certain page in the book, my mind immediately knew what to do.

Mictlantecuhtli's medallion.

«Contrivance that was used by the god of the dead to go unnoticed in the world of mortals, known to be an aura inhibitor. The true origin of the medallion is unknown, but it's said that it was created by the first practitioners of nahualism (witchcraft) who arrived in the realm of the dead. The medallion is missing and there are no records of its possible whereabouts.»

There was a drawing in the form of a dark silver Mexica medallion with a square skull in the center.

I really needed it.

Well, that's how I ended up involved in one of the weirdest and strangest fun adventures. Touring all that was the Mexica and Aztec people in Mexico, knowing the local legends and, well, brazenly intervening in some of them. Just like the famous 'Llorona'. I think Latin America would hate me if they knew that I just 'exorcized' their greatest legend. Well, without a doubt, the reunion with his children was quite emotional, so point for me. No more screaming at night.

With all that, going from being a ghost hunter to the towns I stopped in, I was still collecting information about Mictlantecuhtli's medallion. I summoned some ghosts, asked some local elders (which was kind of tricky, because even though Italian and Spanish come from Latin, they don't look much alike), initially I had to use some spirits to help me discreetly translate some things, one named Carlos Monsivais, a rather nice elderly man who loves cats, and the other named Juan Bautista Pascasio Escutia y Martínez, I know, a long name, so I tended to just call him Juan. He was a young soldier who for some reason had the Mexican flag rolled up on his pants.

I still don't understand why Juan tended to stare at me from time to time and say, "Hey, I do exist, don't you see my flag?" But hey, ghost stuff.

I continued touring the archaeological sites, investigating the medallion's whereabouts. In the end, when I found it after two months and thanks to the great Juan for having dropped his flag in the right place, I thought that I would have to fight against some ancient spirits, or animals like the nahuales.

No. Apparently the Mexicas tended to lean towards epicity and bloody warfare.

I honestly should have imagined it when reading about their sacrificial rites.

I had to fight against a small undead army of elite Aztec warriors, in a closed and sand and mud filled place, with no weapon other than my sword and shadows to help me, oh, and also Juan's poorly rolled flag.

Honestly, it was a miracle that I got out of there alive, since the Aztec warriors were characterized by being too, um, ultra-violent. Among them, the jaguar warriors and the eagle warriors. The greatest and most feared power of these warriors lay in their speed of attack and their bravery in battle. A jaguar warrior would face three warriors at the same time. From what I had read, they were greatly feared and on many occasions they were decisive, even defining conflicts without fighting, since their mere presence discouraged the enemy from engaging in combat.

I learned a lot fighting them, and for the first time in a long time I was overjoyed to be a son of Hades.

The medallion was in the foundations of the Templo Mayor, under the remains of the famous Calupoh of the time. Wolfdogs that were so important that the ancients buried them lined with fine jewelry, like the warriors of the Aztec elite who had just been resurrected.

After that, I realized that the medallion really worked. Animals didn't run away from me as fast as they used to, and people didn't look at me sideways as much anymore. So I called my quest accomplished, and having pretty much traveled without doing almost any shadow travel, other than the occasional one in fights, I was well enough to go on a long travel.

Before I left Mexico, I had to get into a pretty weird fight with an unnatural, amorphous creature that wanted to swallow a puppy. No animal abuse. Even Aztec warriors didn't have that kind of mental brutality.

Although unfortunately the mist of Hecate doesn't reach much in these directions, I don't know if has something to do with the politics of the gods or something like that. Some farmers filmed me, but I still came out a little bit ahead of this fight. I won a Mexican hat and a puppy. Yeah, the dog breeder gave me one of his puppies as a thank you for killing... that thing amorphous dog-killing.

His ash black fur and eyes as clear as honey made him look pretty cool. And seeing the older dogs that the breeder had, I assumed that the puppy was going to be a large breed.

Still nothing as big as Mrs. O'Leary, that's for sure.

Even so, I was glad to be able to have a 'normal' puppy friend, without having to resort to the fact that said animal was from hell itself to be able to get closer.

I gave myself the task of finding a very good name for him.

Note that I was excited.

And that's how I had ended up in Venice, Italy, with a puppy on top of me and a dizzy spell that seemed to bring back what I hadn't eaten.

"I should have had something for breakfast."

I felt a slight tremor above me, and I remembered that, for the first time, I had had an animal companion in a shadow travel. I turned carefully so as not to accidentally knock him over and rocked him to take the slight tremor out of his body.

I would need to get him used to it, but for now, I had to find a place to stay.

In the end, although the 'Hotel Rialto' next to the grand canal was very striking to my eyes, I ended up staying in one of the small apartments a little further from the center. It was pretty quiet and lonely in the evenings, which was nice enough. I was planning to stay for a few weeks, maybe even a couple of months... or maybe a few years (hence my choice for a room-apartment and not a hotel), who knows. Fortunately I didn't have to worry about money.

I think that is one of the few advantages of being the son of the god of riches.

Here in Venice I really felt at home, I felt that I had found my roots.

And after a few days of exploring, I ended up finding out that the house where I used to live together with Bianca and my mother, Maria, had sunk into the sea in a strange and very brutal electrical storm.

Yes. 'Strange electrical storm'. I think we all know whose idea the little genocide was.

So, I gave myself the task of asking older people, now yes, thanks to the fact that they spoke Italian, I didn't have to resort to the ghosts as translators. Apparently the small incident that took place that day, before the start of the second world war, caused some legends to be created about the fateful death of the di Angelo family. Some commented, at times, the ghosts of the two children could be seen playing on the water of the Grand Canal, only to later disappear into the darkness. And at the same time they said that whoever touched the water with them around, was going to end up charred, as if lightning had struck.

Okay. Bullshit, apparently. Bianca was reborn a few years ago and I'm here, alive and with a Mexican puppy.

Another of the famous legends was, since the bodies of the children were not found, only small remains of Maria di Angelo's body, sometimes her muffled cry could be heard, as if she were under the ocean, while the ghost was looking for the bodies of her children.

Well, I must admit that legend gave me quite a scare. Not because it was terrifying, but because I thought that at some point it could've been true and the ghost of my mother could've been looking for Bianca and me. My throat closed just thinking about it.

Fortunately, wandering around Venice I was able to verify that my mother was not here. And I was glad to know that Hades had told me the truth about her whereabouts.

I talked to some ghosts who had known my mother, and was pleased to learn that Maria di Angelo was actually just as I had imagined her. That although I didn't remember it, my and Bianca's childhood had been quite ordinary, with a nice and loving mother.

The following days, I took a little tour of Venice together with my puppy, who followed me everywhere with his tongue sticking out and a smile on his face. I thought it was funny that dogs could smile.

I really found in this dog the company that I had been missing lately. Little by little the puppy, without a good name yet, became my best friend. I would wake up in the morning and the first thing I would see was that beautiful ball of smoked black fur with its head hidden in my neck. During the breaks he would rest one of his little legs on my leg and fall asleep on me, during the little gondola rides he would love to touch the water of the canal with his little nose and then sneeze. Each time, I wanted to just hug him and never let him go.

Unfortunately the Percy Jackson effect hit me again. Being in Venice, surrounded by canals of water and a great blue ocean in front of my eyes, I began to long for Percy to be here with me. I pathetically longed for even the bright aura of him that I couldn't feel from afar. I missed his silly endearing annoying humor, I missed his fondness for the color blue, I missed the way he looked up when he was thoughtful, or when he looked down when he was nostalgic. I missed his black hair and green eyes.

Instinctively I started to think if something could've been different if I had acted differently with him. If I ever had an opportunity, or if from the beginning, even without knowing it, I never had it.

It was quite simple actually. The hero always gets the girl. Both ancient scriptures and current scriptures attest to that fact.

Percy had always struck me as an endearing and powerful boy. In the estimation that I ever held him, he had many ups and downs. Mistakes, anger, frustrations. He wasn't the hero I had thought he was in my childhood. Percy was, as the phrase went. A real hero. With all of his anger management issues, and his pathetically giant morale. With his mistakes and his setbacks. Even knowing all that, my heart didn't stop beating when I thought of him.

And now, surely Percy was seeing the place where he was going to live in New Rome, excited as I heard him that time in the camp, and I?, still clinging to my past in Venice, waiting for a miracle to happen. Waiting for Percy to show up knocking on my door saying 'Hi, my old friend'.

Apparently the little dog could felt my discouragement, because he came up and delicately licked my hand, then bit it a bit. I laughed as I felt tickle because of his teeth. I patted his head and rubbed behind his pointy ears. He lay down and quickly fell asleep.

Being the end of January, Venice was in cold weather of about 5 degrees centigrade, so I had to force a sweater over my t-shirt when opening the window facing the poor little fire escape, as Venice was not characterized by this type of buildings. If something caught fire, all you had to do was jump into the canal. So fire escapes weren't very useful around here.

As I stepped out of the satisfying warmth of my room, I was able to see in the distance the incredible lighting that Venice had at night, giving a touch of magical antiquity to the place and an impressive reflection in the water. The sounds of the gondolas crawling through the narrow canals instead of the incessant noise of cars in the cities was really beautiful. I could actually spend an eternity here and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.

I took out Mictlantecuhtli's medallion and studied it carefully for a moment. I didn't really know what to think about the locket. It's true that a weight had been lifted from my shoulders now that others could no longer perceive my natural aura as a son of Hades, but another weight added to my burdens. what would happen if I took it off? Would the puppy run away from me? Would people avoid me again?

I had gone through a lot to have the medallion, so, I wasn't going to waste it now that I had it with me.

“Nice necklace,” a voice said. I jumped.

Percy Jackson was standing on the fire escape right next to me. He’d just appeared there.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

I blinked a few times not knowing if what I was seeing was actually happening or if I had slipped and hit the railing and was now unconscious.

He was still as tall as I remembered him. He was wearing a blue t-shirt under the big dark jacket and, no. I had definitely hit the railing. There was no reason for Percy to have a Mexican hat on his head. I couldn't say anything, I could only stare at those green eyes that looked at me with a certain cunning air.

“I’ve done some exploring,” he said. “Thought you’d like to know, the Chupacabras got its punishment.”

I blinked again, not really knowing how to respond. It seemed as if Percy wanted me to follow some kind of script.

Wait, how did he know about that?

“You saw him?” I was finally able to answer.

Percy seemed delighted with my question, since he smiled and gave another giggle that I couldn't understand. Percy nodded, but then he denied.

“Why...? I mean, how did you get here?”

“Mrs. O'Leary is very good at identifying your shadow travel traces. And…well, you taught me how to ride her.

I looked up and could see a big black head hiding behind the roof of the building. Why is she hiding?

I shook my head. Now wasn't the time to think about that. I wanted to know why, precisely, Percy would leave the tranquility of his family to come visit to me to the other side of the world.

"What are you doing here, Percy?"

I refrained from asking about for his college. Percy seemed to smile that sly air again, he got up from where he was sitting and walked over to my position. I shrank in my place. And when I thought he was close enough, Percy glanced inside my room. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Why isn't there... a black birthday cake?"

Percy turned to see me. He raised his eyebrows as if he was trying to convey some kind of message to me.

Oh. It was January 28. It was my birthday. Wait, this is exactly what happened on Percy's birthday! Now I understood his strange behavior.

With nerves entering every pore of my body, I took a deep breath and gave Percy a small smile.

“Come inside for some warmth,” I said. “It sounds like we've got a lot to talk about.”

════ •『 HAPPY BIRTHDAY 』• ════

This mini fic will continue on February 14.