In the darkness, one finds light. (Solangelo)

The fields of Punishment encourage cuddling.

Okay, let me start off this chapter with a little rant, because I know how you guys know how much I love them. Personally, I don't think fanfiction authors get enough credit. Like, if you look at the amazingly high pedestal that Fandom artists are put on, and than you compare it to the fanfiction authors, I think we are really taken for granted. For example, this story is cross posted. It's available on AO3, Wattpad, and FF.net. I try to update every day, and if I don't you can be sure I am at least working on a chapter every day, and between the three sites, I think I have about twenty five comments. And writing take a lot out of authors psychologically. So we need the mental, and moral support. It's not really enough to just see that, 'Oh, a thousand people read my story, that's nice and all, but only about 1 out of every hundred of you left a comment. Did I do a shitty job?' Do I have any fellow authors reading my work? Can I have some love on this topic, because I am extremely upset about it. I mean, who is there to encourage your denial when your fav. character dies in your fandom? Or when you finish the final episode of your favorite show? Or book series, like Percy Jackson? That's right kitties. We are. Me. The gay FanFiction author who writes about gay boys even though I literally cannot stand to look at a penis to save my life. Rant over. Enjoy, loves.

"You'll need supplies." Hades said. I tucked the withered scroll that contained the photo of the spirit thief and tucked it under my arm. All this trouble and it happens to be the work of a teenage spirit, probably bent on revenge on my father. She would probably have to get in line.

"You're right." Nico said. He was haunched over a map of the underworld and his father was across the table from him studying it also. Nico pointed at various spots on the map and muttered something to his father. This was the first time I had seen them so close. Close as in, side by side close. Nico shared his fathers inky black hair and pale, ghostly gray eyes. I had once heard a story that Nico looked like a full blooded Italian boy. I tried to imagine it. Nico Di Angelo with light olive skin and bright, green eyes full of life. Ripe with useless facts about pirates and Mythomagic.

I shook my head. That image of Nico seemed impossible to form. The boy that stood in front of me was completely different from the one Percy and Annabeth had described for me during one of out long days working on the Argo II.

The boy standing in front of me wore black skinny jeans that looked a bit big on him but were held up by a belt and his black sword on his hip. He wore a shirt that was a dark gray color and hung loosely over his hips. On his shoulders, a dark leather jacket hung and a silver skull ring sat on his right hand. His dark, untamable hair stuck up in stiff puffs on his head.

He looked like a boy who would scuff and say, "Get away from me, kid." If somebody tried to talk to him about Mythomagic or Pairates.

"Will?" I was pulled from my thoughts and noticed Nico was handing me a black leather bag. I grabbed it and opened it. Peering inside it's dark fabric walls.

I pulled out a small silver dagger, a bottle of water, a small thermos, and a ring.

"The dagger has the power to dissipate spirits. Use it wisely and return it to Nico after the mission. Only myself and my children should hold that kind of power."

I nodded and slipped the dagger onto my belt. My first weapon. I wasn't usually one for carrying weapons and other tools of war. I was more of a peace loving guy.

"The bottle of water never empties." Hades said. "You cannot drink or eat anything in the underworld or it will trap you here forever. That will sustain you until your mission succeeds." I thanked the Gods for Nico's dad, which was something I never thought I would do. However, I cannot imagine going through the next two days without at least water.