Half Blood Hollow

Ethan stood in the darkness of Bunker 9 staring at his unfinished project lying on the workbench. Another failed attempt at the magic item stared back at him. Everyone had already gone back to camp for the night, but this wasn’t too unusual. Ethan spent many late nights here working on his project, often falling asleep with one tool or another in his hand. Some kids wanted to be popular or go on a great quest or just go home. Ethan on the other hand, had only one dream since he arrived at CHB two years ago. Literally, the sword started to appear in his dreams within a week of being claimed by the forge god. He had never gotten to meet his dad, but Ethan felt like there was a bond between them when he imagined that blade. It was a traditional Greek Xiphos, with a leather bound handle. The pommel was a silver teardrop shape with a single red jewel in the center. The guard was made of a similar looking material and had an inscription stamped across the front, νέκυια. The blade held an ethereal aura, the surface shimmering under the light. In his dreams, Ethan saw the process of crafting the weapon, each step being revealed to him as he needed it. However after two summers of work, he could not get it to come out right. It had taken almost a month to find the correct gem for it, another month to work out the right consistency of silver to iron to celestial bronze. Each time he tried to forge the sword he saw in his mind, something went terribly wrong; the blade shattered, the handle cracked, his cast melted. Ethan was missing the final ingredient but he could not figure out what it was. As soon as he got it though, his dad would be proud of him. He could stop spending so much time in here and actually start to make friends at Camp. He could be a normal kid, not one consumed by this passion. “Someday”, he told himself as he smashed the piece of junk on his workbench with his hammer, ready to begin anew.

Notes