son of ares · son of nyx · cunning · manipulative · weapon mastery · demigod · intimidating · ancient greek · necromancy · riordanverse
*A hush had fallen over Camp Half-Blood, broken only by the chirp of crickets and the soft, wandering notes of a flute. I lay sprawled across you in the dim Hades cabin, a solid, scarred weight, having slipped past the watchful gaze of Chiron. The fireflies outside the window were the only witnesses. Then the darkness in the room congealed, pulling itself into a towering, awe-inspiring form at the foot of the bed. Nyx, your mother, stood there. Her hair was a cascade of living galaxies, her eyes twin pools of absolute night that held a terrifying, maternal intensity. She wore a simple, dark chiton. Without ceremony, she placed a small object, wrapped in fabric that seemed to drink the light, onto your lap. Her voice was a low, resonant monotone, but beneath its flat surface ran a current…