The Ambassador

WHAT'S THIS LOCK

       He ended up back in his room. Looking around, he decided to sit at the desk, trying to find something that would distract him from thinking about Hazel. Curious as to what was inside the drawers, he opened all of them. All that was in them was in them was pens and pencils, a few empty notepads, and a few different colored highlighters. He had an idea, something that he doesn't remember doing, but wished he knew how to do. Write.

       At first he tried writing in english, as you can tell, he gave up. Crinkling the paper he threw it in the trash, next he thought of writing in greek or in latin, but he didn't really want to be reminded of his godly side, at least not right now. His next option was italian, but all he thought of was speaking italian with his sister when he was in Westover Hall. Nico sighed, then it seemed like a light bulb appeared above his head. Spanish. Leo had taught him how to speak and write it during their free time after and during the war, when they did have time on the Argo II. He was excited to learn a new language, it was almost like it came natural to him. Even though his handwriting was a bit sloppy he still wrote for what felt like hours. He wrote about his feelings, he wrote about his journeys, he even wrote about his best memories, and how he wished he could remember how he grew up in Italy. This felt almost easy to him, it was therapeutic too. It felt like something was missing, like he should have been doing something. He finally found what he should have been doing. He guessed that he might have kept journals before he was dumped in the river lethe, but he would never be able to know. He sighed again, feeling a bit more relaxed, but drained more than ever. He put the written papers below the blank ones in the drawer that he found.

       Nico stood up and looked around. He was curious as to what kind of people he was dealing with. So he decided to snoop a bit, to see if there was anything in there that would help him in any way. Nothing, it was all a dead end. Just a variety of books that couldn't tell him what kind of people he was dealing with, not that he could read the titles anyway. Everything was plain, the closet was empty with bare hangers all on one side, the dressers had nothing in them, and so did the nightstand. All it had was another lamp atop of it along with an alarm clock. He even dug through the bathroom. It was filled with basic first aid and medicines. Nothing had labels that could tell him where it all came from. This was getting increasingly frustrating. He sat at the desk again, this time spinning in the chair. He couldn't think of anything that would get him into this much trouble. He paused his thinking for a moment, now scared of what this might lead to. Another war. He was in another world, just him, and if there was someone missing from this one, then that would mean that they were in his world. But that doesn't make sense, why bring Nicole to this one? Are there supposed to be three allies against the threat that's in this world, his, and Nicole's? But that would be major. What threat is big enough to make someone break an ancient law. Several times the very the least. At the same time it didn't make sense, the gods didn't care about what happened to other pantheons, let alone other worlds. So why would this be important? Why this world? Why him?

       He wished he could talk to Annabeth. She would know what to do. Hell, even Percy would know what to do, even with his oblivious nature he would be able to figure out a way to contact someone from their world.

       Wait, oblivious. These people quote on quote rescued him. He also didn't tell them about his powers or the very details of his world. He knew if even one person was worried about his absence, everyone would be on the lookout. Especially, how powerful of a demigod he is, the gods would be worried about who would take him. He was powerful and careful, he knew if he wasn't able to handle the battle alone, he wouldn't. He wasn't cocky. He also wasn't reckless and not afraid to call for help. If the gods weren't worried, then his father would be. His father would be the one to demand any army and any resources he could find to help find him. He bet the fates that his father would even go to other pantheons to find him, and to also see if he died and went to the wrong underworld. Which is not likely to happen. He was also supposed to help Thanatos look for lost souls, and since there were a lot that escaped, he was in charge of helping where he could. And since he was supposed to keep helping, and now he wasn't able to because of the unexpected world hop, Thanatos would contact his father about him missing.

       That could be his way out. His father! Nico stood up, unable to sit down any longer. Pacing the room, his mind racing. He couldn't believe he didn't think of that earlier. He laughed slightly, a little relieved that at least one person might be on the search for him. He sat at the edge of the bed, panting a bit from the pacing and from spinning in the chair. He looked over, and saw two large, glass doors covered in curtains. He walked up and tried opening them, only to find it locked. He sighed as he walked back to his old laundry, trying to find his lock pick kit. Ha, I'd like to see you try to say that five times fast. As soon as he found it, he went to work right away, remembering his teachings of the stoll brothers. In a matter of seconds, the lock clicked and the door handle turned smoothly. Opening it, he was met with a balcony.

       It wasn't overly huge or small, it was big enough to hold three people comfortably. It also had a hammock off to one side and two chairs on the other. He decided to lay on the hammock, enjoying the nightly breeze he felt from the open night. Next thing he knew, he was falling asleep, the slight swing of the hammock and the stars above him, giving him a familiar comfort.

       He was hoping that he wouldn't get any more dreams or nightmares, considering his powers were malfunctioning, and that the gods didn't exist here. Of course, this was the one thing that he could never escape.

       His dream consisted of rubble, ruins of broken statues, and buildings toppling over. He couldn't find the source of who was attacking, let alone where he was. This place was familiar. It felt like a gap in his memory was being filled. He heard children screaming and crying, calling out for their mothers and fathers. He ran to help them, as many as he could. Every time he was too late. He couldn't save any of them. Wandering, his mind now clouded, and stumbling through the disaster. Through his blurry vision, all he could see were the burnt socks that were just too small, ashes of images that were of families, and dirty stuffed animals. He fell as he picked up one in particular. It was a pirate. The building he fell in front of was destroyed, the blast that was held here seemed big enough to not allow any survivors. He then heard a woman, calling for help under all the rubble. He ran as fast as he could, trying to find her and help her. He lifted the pieces as fast and as carefully as he could. Eventually, he saw her, the face that had haunted him since he made the IM to his past. It was his mother, breathing her final breaths as she looked him in the eyes. He couldn't move, all he could do was hold her and cry. Each tear that appeared fell from his cheeks to hers, as if he was crying for her. The place around him slowly fell, Maria being the last thing to fall into the dark abyss.

       He couldn't move, he only stared out into the darkness that surrounded him. Then things started to build back up, this time differently. The place was filled with magnificent, modern buildings that seemed to be so tall, that it could touch the sky. People with happy faces walked the busy streets, not seeming to notice Nico. He couldn't understand how they could be so happy when he had just watched someone, so important to him, die in his arms. Now, all he could do was sit in the middle of the road. Rain, it fell from the sky hard and fast. Large drops pelted his back, not bothered from the intensity it brought. Everyone ignored him, and he was alone again. He lay back on the ground, looking at the sky. Moments passed as he felt everything, yet nothing at all. He couldn't breathe, Nico closed his eyes to help focus on his uneven breaths. Light then shined on him, it was warm and he felt the rays of the light dancing upon his pale skin.

       "Are you all right?" That voice, it was as if he knew who it was.

       He was surprised, to say the least, that someone went up to him. He tried opening his eyes, only to be left squinting from light being shown in the distance. The man that spoke to him, knelt next to him. His facial features were hard to describe, it seemed to be a blur. The man then stood and held out his hand to Nico.

       For some reason Nico felt more at peace in his presence. Nico sat up and looked at his hand, then to his face. Hesitantly, he took it.

       He shot up in bed, panting. That dream, it was horrible. It was all too real and too close. It was too close for him. Nico wiped his eyes and face of the tears that had gathered. It was strange, the last thing he remembered, he was on the hammock. But now... He ended up back in his room.