Night.

Night.

Iaen hated the word. He hated when the sky faded after a brilliant sunset to an ashy black, until the sky was dark as ink or dark as his raven-colored hair. He hated how he couldn’t tell who was friend, and who was enemy. He hated feeling unsafe, insecure. He hated how the black night reminded him of the dark aspects of his life and tattered family.
He hated how it reminded him of his ironic fear of the dark, of suffocation.

Thunder crackled through the low farming valley as Iaen and a young girl named Laura darted through the rain. Iaen’s black hair was plastered to his forehead, and his eyesight was blurry from the thick heavenly tears that came too fast to wipe away. He kept a firm grip on Laura’s small, cold hand, pulling her along to the abandoned shack he had stayed in on the way to New Jersey to find the small girl beside him.
Night had come, and Iaen hadn't managed to find them a place to sleep. He felt chills run up his arms and his heart speed up as he realized how dark the sky was. The great black and gray thunderclouds covered the bright diamond stars, and the moon was dimmed. Lightning was the only source of light, and with Iaen’s history, he knew that his chances of being struck were high.
Iaen was a demigod, born to a human and a Greek god. He had been trained from a very young age at a school for others like him. However, even among demigods he was different, special: he was the heir of Hades, one of the six Elder gods, who only had children once every 150 years. His heritage was both a blessing and a curse: as an heir, he was protected and trained far beyond that of a normal demigod. His powers were also stronger and deadlier. Unfortunately for Iaen, his heritage as a child of Hades left him an outcast, and had led to his mother, sister, and brothers’ deaths. And now, at the age of 12, he was forced to take on a quest set by his father.
He was sent to find Laura, an eight year old girl who he had found on the streets of Atlantic City, New Jersey.
From the moment he had met the small, willful little girl, Iaen had felt something spark in his heart that hadn’t been there since his family’s death.
Love. Friendship. Light.
The hard ball of fear that had always existed in his heart was being melted away by the sheer firepower of Laura’s will.
But to look at that fireball now….
Laura was white and shivering, her lips turning blue. Her hair was limp and soaked, and her pointy bones could be seen through her baggy, ill-fitted clothing. Iaen felt terrified that she might die because of his weakness.
“We’re almost there.” Iaen reassured the shivering child. Laura only took his hand and gripped it. Her hand was ice cold.
Iaen peered through the gathering darkness, anxiously trying to pick out the form of the shack, but he saw nothing.
“Iaen…” Laura whispered. “I’m cold.”
“I know.” Iaen said, his voice tight with sorrow. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Laura said. She looked up with big, trusting green eyes. “You’ll protect me.”
Iaen’s throat clenched, and his heart thrummed painfully. No one had ever relied on Iaen, or trusted him before. And now this little girl….
I will protect her, Iaen vowed to himself. Even if I must die…
The implications of this hit him then. He, a twelve year old, was willing to die for someone else.
“No wonder everyone on the island thinks I’m strange…” Iaen muttered quietly to himself.
Laura at this point was so exhausted, she had nothing to say.
“Laura?” Iaen said. He knelt beside her in the pouring rain. “Close your eyes.”
Laura did so without a complaint, which was unlike her. Iaen stood, and closed his eyes.
Using the force of his will alone, Iaen parted the darkness for a split second, which was enough to find the house he was looking for. Panting with exhaustion, he tapped Laura’s shoulder.
“Did you see anything?” he asked. Laura shook her head.
Iaen was sure that the child had no knowledge of his world, even though he was certain that she had some godly relation. He figured his father could tell Laura when they arrived in New York.
Iaen’s arms shook from the toll of using his considerable power. What he had done should have been impossible, but as the heir of Hades, he had powers beyond the normal. Even so, he was close to passing out entirely.
Picking up a pace that was as quick as either he or Laura could go, Iaen started towards the shack.


Iaen turned the knob of the door and watched as it swung squeakily inward, revealing a room as empty as Iaen had left it on his prior visit. The tiny degree of warmth was slight, but felt deeply in Iaen’s bones.
Quickly setting Laura down on a chair, Iaen went to the corner of the room to fetch a lighter and wood. He efficiently stacked the wood and lit it.
He then pounced on the moth-eaten blankets and towels and gave them to Laura, tucking her in. He sagged in warmth as the fire danced merrily.
Iaen then quickly made up the beds, and locked the door with both magic and mortal means.

“Iaen?” Laura said.
Iaen looked up from under the sink, where he had been checking for pans. “Yeah?” he said, straightening up.
“Is it safe?” she whispered.
Iaen looked her straight in the eye. “Yes.”
Laura smiled softly. “Good.” Her eyes flickered shut.
Iaen checked the fire, and put the pot with the three cans-worth of soup (which he had found in the cabinet) on it. He then crossed to Laura.
“To bed for you.” he teased gently. Laura groaned, but did as Iaen said, flopping down on the nearest bed.
Iaen sat in her vacated chair, wrapping the last blanket around himself. He was shivering, and could feel beads of water dripping from his hair down his neck. He leaned back, watching the soup and Laura, and trying to warm up.
Once the soup was done, Iaen managed to convince Laura to drink some. He was a little worried, because she seemed to be a bit delirious.
“Are you okay?” he asked her as she lay back down. “Or are you just falling asleep?”
“Yeah.” Laura said, turning her face into the pillow. “You have really pretty eyes, you know? They are brown, almost black, but they are so warm...but they are so old. I’ve seen a lot of old eyes before, but yours are different. They are stronger and….I’m tired.” She yawned and her voice began to trail off. “It was your eyes that made me trust you. When you found me...thank you...”
Iaen froze, staring at the girl who was sleeping in front of him. His long, pale fingers reached up to touch his face.
Thank you? His eyes were beautiful and warm? No one had ever told him that he was beautiful anywhere, much less his eyes, which reminded everyone too much of his dad.
No one had ever thanked him either.
“‘Night, Laura.” Iaen said in a slightly shaking voice. Laura didn't react, beyond snuggling further into the mountain of blankets.
Iaen drew his knees up to his skinny chest, unable to believe that anyone could think he was handsome or that he was worth thanking. It went against everything he had been through in his short life, and as a demigod, these views were hard to change. It was also why so many died before they could be taken to Demigod Island, where they could live safe from monsters and interfering gods and murderous Romans….
After several minutes, Iaen slowly climbed out of his chair and walked to the bathroom, where he knew there was a broken mirror.
His feet made almost no sound as he padded out of the main room. He walked into the bathroom and lit a candle.
His angular face was lit up in the warm flame, and shadows dramatized his face. He didn't look fully human- his face and cheekbones too pointed, his pale skin accented. His eyes only had a trace of brown in them in this lighting, and he could see the sadness in his eyes.
His hair was past his shoulders, and his bangs were starting to cover his eyes. His hair was barely distinguishable in the blackness.
Had anyone seen him in that moment, they would have thought that he looked like an elven prince, graceful and beautiful. That was what Iaen was: beautiful. Not handsome, not cute.
But Iaen didn't see this. All he saw was Death’s child, unwanted and feared, through no fault of his own. He saw the paleness of his skin, the shadows under his eyes, the blue tint in his lips from the cold. He didn't think he was beautiful.
So Iaen left the room, banked the fire, and crawled into his bed beside Laura. His heart was finally opening up and being healed by the little eight year old next to him, and in the years to come, she would lead him out of the darkness and into the light.