Is this really another update? My interest in writing this story ebbs and flows but I still like the idea and don't want to leave it incomplete. Some encouragement would probably help but I will try to update it again next week. My kindle also nearly broke a few weeks ago and since I usually write on there, that also slowed me down a little.

Anyway, not really sure what made me write in like three more characters or... just about anything that happens in this chapter... enjoy?

Arm still searing, I headed over to the armoury, where I had work to do, apparently becoming a full member of the legion after returning from a successful quest was not a good enough excuse to avoid your job. It seemed quite unfair really, to be assigned tasks with little say in the matter. You couldn't just leave the camp either. Still maybe it was a justified payment for some safety and food. I probably wouldn't mind if they at last gave me a selection.

Not that I was very annoyed, with a couple of excuses I made my way into the forge, which was connected with the armoury. Inside it was incredibly hot with metal being smelted into deadly weapons. Several burly boys and a couple girls were working expertly. One of them smiled at me as I came in.

"Hey there, Zoe right?" He said, getting up from a crafting table where He was designing a hilt. His friendly tone caught me off guard, for I'd come to expect sharp words or at least caution.

I nevertheless answered calmly. "Greetings, yes I am Zoe Nightshade."

"Mark, pleasure to meet you, we're ready grateful for all that gold you procured out of nowhere. How can I help you?"

I smiled. "I'm here to craft a gold dagger."

Mark took a moment to reply, looking interested at the statement "Did you turn out to be a descendent of Vulcan then? It'd be great to have more he'll around here!" He said, unfortunately a little presumptuous.

Others in the room were new turning towards me, some looked a little alarmed. I surveyed the dimly lit stone-walled forge noting a small pile of golden items that I recognised since I'd delivered them. Easy to tell with odd shapes like a gold lamp in the pile. They should be grateful for the extra supplies but clearly not everyone was.

I turned back to Mark and answered his question. "I'm no descendent of Vulcan but I have forged things in the past, I trust that isn't a problem?"

Mark looked sheepish. "Oh, I suppose that's fine - we have the space and can't very well forbid you from use of the materials, so go ahead," he replied, gesturing around the room.

I nodded stiffly and immediately walked over to get some gold. I realised that the room was silent for everyone had stopped working to watch me. Why did everything have to be so hard? I could probably blame Octavian for this still - how on Earth did he think a minor rise in popularity (if any) was worth a large amount of trouble for anyone? How many people had he manipulated before me? I don't think I could stay if he was Praetor.

I picked up a few golden bricks after careful examination of each of them. More than enough for a small weapon. I headed over to a desk to make a few calculations before I could go to the forge.

"Where did you learn how to craft weapons?" One boy unwisely asked me as soon as I sat down.

I shot him a glare and resisted the urge to attack him. I was getting to the end of patience in dealing with fools but there seemed to be an endless supply of them! I might have to go on another quest just to find Jason to get them to leave me alone. Of course if I did find him then they'd probably accuse me of hiding him in the first place. Why wasn't anyone looking for him already anyway?

Anyway. I gritted my teeth and merely said, "it is no concern of yours."

"But you're experienced at crafting weapons and you're sure expert in archery?" He prodded, irritatingly.

"And swordfighting too from what I've heard," a girl added.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that unleashing a rage would not help me. "Forgive me but I am in no mood for chatter," I managed, but I couldn't help but sound a little angry.

"Is it because you have something to hide?" The first boy said, standing up from his table. He was sizing me up.

"Tell me then," I snarled, standing up and facing the loathsome boy. "If you are so keen to talk then tell me about yourself. Do you have a name? Do you know how to fight? Are you good at making weapons? Do you have friends? Is your ancestor a god? Do you have godlike powers? Do you tell every stranger who demands you ever personal thing about yourself?"

My voice was becoming louder and louder until I was practically screaming at him. Firing questions at a rapid pace. He was finally beginning to realise that I was livid and his face was paler. He backed away from me slightly which I took to mean he would leave me alone and so I sat back down, slamming my arms on the desk loudly for good measure.

A tense silence followed only to be broken by Mark's hesitant voice. "You shouldn't have demanded things like that Joel, so far she's only been nice to us."

"But you have to admit, there are quite a few unanswered questions surrounding her," the girl commented amiably.

Wonderful. They were talking about me as if I wasn't there. This girl had an unusually attractive face for a descendent of Vulcan with long, thick hair tied into a bushy ponytail down her back; large intelligent eyes and nothing in the way of scars. She appeared to be analysing me. I ignored them, trying to focus on my task.

"Yes," Mark admitted and it was clear he didn't completely trust me. "But you shouldn't make too many presumptions just yet!"

"But we should exercise caution, should we not?" She replied and was suddenly addressing the whole room. "Until she tells us who she is and why she's here, we cannot allow her to be here!"

The girl was a friend of Octavian. Feeling uneasy, I walked over to the forge to begin heating my metal. Well-spoken, spreading distrust among otherwise friendly people. Attacking any secrets. Even if they weren't friends I imagined that she would be another possible Praetor, using a similar strategy. Of course, she was only building on what he'd already planted and many looked unconvinced so she probably wasn't as skilled.

"That's harsh, leave her at least for an hour or two," Mark objected, more convincing than I could be. I wasn't great at being convincing, usually I had a level of respect that ensured people would listen when I spoke. I would have to regain it all.

"When she's finished building her mechanism? We're not safe," she said dramatically. I still didn't know her name.

I drowned them out. It was necessary to focus on enchanting the blade. Enchantments worked best when they were slowly cast as the object was being formed, it kept them relatively stable - hastily cast enchantments often led to bizarre situations such as this one time when I'd been lifted up into the air by a sword with a weightlessness cast on it. It was supposed to be lighter not supposed to allow you to fly with absolutely no control.

I focused imagining a sword that could shoot bolts of fire at my command. I was still in a furious mood so it wasn't hard to imagine some destruction by my hand. In the background, I was aware that the two were still arguing but I was giving the weapon my utmost concentration as I folded the gold, softening it.

Minutes passed and I was beginning to grow tired, magic could take a lot out of you. But there was another enchantment to cast. Shooting fire didn't seem quite sufficient so I began to add another piece of magic. This time, it would be a warning - it's job would be to warn me if I was in danger.

I'd tried this once before she the result had been interesting, somehow it had made some sort of connection with my mind, instinctively letting me know if I was in trouble. This had been more than I was hoping for and I was keen to try this again.

Once again, as I hammered the blade into shape, I focused on making this thought reality. As the short sword was taking form the spells were both strengthening, becoming stable and dependable. It was a nice thought.

My eyes were becoming heavy, my anger had long since dissipated, replaced with exhaustion that came from using divine magic. But the weapon was done now and the gold short sword looked inviting. No longer was I adverse to gold.

On that note, I left the hot forge briefly mentioning that I would come back tomorrow to complete the handle and after they I wouldn't bother them. It was quite late now so I ran over to the pavilion for the lightest of meals before heading to my bed, due an early night.

That's it. Yeah, I don't know what to think of it either. Tell me it doesn't sound too odd, or inconsistent.

Please do leave a review as I enjoy reading them. Thanks!