Soldatino - Nico and Bianca di Angelo

Tartarus

Tartarus is an undernourished, pale stricken hell dimension that few have ventured deep enough to even earth the relic of such. The sweet trickles of water that you would hear, feel and taste from above were now sunk dreams that are left in dusted, flaming rivers that guide your fate.

That was all that he needed to know. To know that he will not survive.

Nico slithered past the Aeternae, sweating in the unnaturally humid realm, gripping the hilt of his Stygian sword, his hold tightening at every step he made as he moved onward. In his view, a black shroud of smoke sprouted out of the bottom lips that rested on Tartarus, thawing in the hazy air before launching itself back up and dispensing the breath more fluidly. The darkness enveloped Nico in an opaque package, opening where he slashed his sword but nothingness came again, engulfing Nico like fire to gasoline. Dangerous. Rapid. Embers.

Coughs sounded from the cloud was inaudible to the untrained ear, only heightened senses of lurking creatures who stood directly at the spot where Nico lay could have heard.

A thud echoed through the enclosure of shadows, the black spots lessening its claw on the demigod, but only tightening again as the boy started to breath. At first slow, and soundless huffs that fractured his lungs and made his heart scream in agony, but slowly the pain faded, and he could breath with extreme accuracy, pacing his measured gasps of air with timed pauses.

He still couldn't see though, and he swatted the ink that was around him with his weapon though it did more karma to him than it had done to the storm that was now sucking the air out of him, causing Nico to fall breathless, his head slowly reaching the ground.

A flicker of light breached the night, and found Nico in her arms, a tear rolling down her cheek. She combed his hair with her soft, delicate hands; trying her best to not break her barely physical form, that was ghostly and pure of light, so she was able to touch her younger brother. Bianca smiled sadly at Nico's angelic face, which was smoothed from its worry lines, and now glazed with an aura that shone brighter than any light.

Bianca placed his body against hers, hugging him tighter and scared that they'll be separated once more, and lost in to different lives that they can no longer meet in. Her arms loosened around him, and she leaned her head into Nico's shoulder, her hair sweeping gracefully over her neck.

"T-tu sei il mio soldatino, L-la ragione h-ho vissuto, Non ti s-scordar di me, Io v-veglierò su di te."

She sang the lullaby, her voice forcing the spraying darkness away as she repeated the verse over and over, reiterating the last few words again, telling Nico she was watching over him. Her voice cracked at every word, as if she were still alive. And she was, lying and beating to the drum of Nico's heart.

Even in her second chance of life, she remembered him. She loved him. She watched over him.

Her tears paddled over her cheeks, and showered Nico on his shoulder as the pure water freshly soaked his dry and dirtied shirt. Bianca wrapped her younger brother's jacket around him, and placed him down in a sleeping position against the debris of minerals, wiping her tears away as they landed on the skin of Tartarus with a cooling wave.

"Nico," she whispered gently, kissing the boy on his forehead, grooming his fringe back, peekking at his closed eyes, and imagining Nico's dark brown iris' staring back at her. At that, her form glowed and spiralled out of the dark realm, giving light to the darkest of places was a thing that Bianca could do. Even in death and life.

Nico woke, sitting against a metal wall that was now wet with water, some of it having drizzled on to his shirt, that his jacket now covered. He let one of his smiles shine through on his face. A rare one that only Bianca would have been allowed to see, the one he showed her everyday; back when he was happy. Nico touched the stained cloth with his fingers, gloves scorched off by the lava lanes. His eyes gleamed at the feeling of the surface, a place higher than the sky to him, and he gripped his shoulder, before signing the ward against evil.

There was water. Here in Tartarus. The depths of every nightmare, where the lakes of the surface dare not dive. Yet, water was on his shoulder, brushing past and touching the remains of metal ore that now stood molded as a wall. One that Nico somehow had managed to lean on, even through all darkness.

There was help.

There was love.

Maybe, maybe, there was hope after all.