Return of the Disgraced Archangel

Quest IV

Camp Half Blood

     Zoë had a problem. In her thousands of years of living in Percy's universe, she had always kept her face disfigured. She liked it better like that, and it wasn't like she had a reason to keep it pristine. Percy liked her face, whether it was disfigured or not. That wasn't her problem.

     Her problem was that she couldn't change it back. This wouldn't normally bother her, but the scared looks she was getting from other campers weren't ideal. They seemed to want to murder her, out of rage for monsters, or fear for their lives.

     She wondered what the Norse would think about her face. They had a goddess that was half beautiful woman, and half undead corpse. She would fit right in.

     But she had to do something about her face. She would hate to end up dead because some paranoid demigods judged her on her appearance. The only thing she could think of was a mask.

     She walked to the forges. She entered, the heat hitting her. She smiled, before getting to work. She melted down bars of silver, watching them melt. She took them out of the fire and let them harden a little bit. It was easier to work with malleable metal than liquid.

     She grabbed the semi molten metal, molding it like it was clay. She realized that it was harder to get metal right than play doh. So she stuck it back in the fire, and walked over and into the woods.

     She went into the creek and brought some clay up from the surface. She worked with that, making a mask out of that instead. She found it much easier to mold. She put it to her face, making sure to get the dimensions right.

      Once she was done with that, she brought it back to the forge. She held the mask over the fire, watching it harden. Once it was hard she placed it on the work desk. She poured the molten silver that had been melting the whole time over the mask.

      The metal hardened and Zoë pulled the clay from the silver. She held the mask in her hand. It was half of a face, though it had no features. It would do. She placed it on the left side of her face- the disfigured part.

       Just as she put it on, a boy entered the forge. His army jacket was on fire, but he didn't seem to mind. He grabbed some bars of metal before leaving. Zoë was curious.

      The boy walked into the woods. She followed him, staying in the trees. She was silent, a skill from her days as a hunter that remained with her. The boy came to a giant wall of stone. Then his hand lit on fire.

     Zoë raised her eyes in surprise. The last fire user caused that fire back in 1666. She remembered getting the news of that. She had immediately suspected Percy, but then she realized he was probably still in Hell.

      The fire raced along the wall, outlining a giant door. The stone moved like it was a door. She jumped down from her tree as the boy went into the bunker. The door slowly slid closed. Zoë slipped in before it shut fully.

      There were bright lights in the bunker. It was large. It had to be. But that wasn't the most impressive part. No, that went to the giant unfinished ship that was being built. It reminded her of Naglfar.

     She ran a hand across the bottom of the hull. It seemed to be made of wood. As she walked around to the side of the ship, she realized that it more resembled an ancient Greek trireme.

     "Admiring her?" A voice said.

     "Hm?" Zoë asked, turning to the voice. It was the boy she had followed here.

     "The Argo II. You're admiring it, aren't you?"

     "Yeah. It's impressive. Though there are a couple of things you could improve."