The Aspiring Archivist
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"I don't know, but I don't think it's likely. We got a prophecy for this quest."
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"That's what we think."
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"Zeus can't get it back himself because gods don't like to do things themselves. That's what they have half-bloods for. To go on quests, to do for them things that would be taboo to do themselves. Like stealing the bolt in the first place."
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Terrance sighed.
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"...Okay."
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"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
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Terrance thought for a moment. "Maybe we can get some people to bring you back to camp. You didn't ask to be on this quest."
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"As far as I can tell it's not exactly... uncommon."
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"Neither have I."
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"You're pacing."
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"What is it?"
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He mostly remained emotionless and still.
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"No."
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Terrance just nodded.
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He nodded.
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"Not that I know of."
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He didn't smile back at her, though he would have had a hard time of it given the complications of eye contact.
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"Okay."
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"No, that's about it."
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He shrunk it back down. "It's useful."
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He used his clean hand to hold up a piece of metal about the size and shape of a sewing needle. It promptly expanded into a long and thin celestial bronze rod with an incredibly sharp point.
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"Probably my weapon."
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He didn't take it, in part because his hand was still covered in blood and he wanted to keep it hidden.
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He just shrugged again.
