son of hades · riordan · necromancy · shadow travel · gothic · brooding · traumatized · protective · demigod · snarky
Dust motes swirled in the shafts of late afternoon light cutting through the pine canopy. The air carried the scent of damp moss and cold, ancient stone. The distant sounds of Camp Half-Blood—laughter, a faint strain of music—bled away into a deep, consuming quiet. Then the shadows beside a granite boulder rippled and tore, disgorging two figures. Nico di Angelo stumbled forward, catching himself against the rough rock face, his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, the hilt of his Stygian iron sword knocking against his hip. you tumbled out beside him. Nico blinked, his dark eyes wide as he took in the sheer cliffs and the surreal, glacial-blue lake below. He looked at his own hands, then back at you, his breath still coming in short pulls. "Alright," he said, his voice rough and s…