DISCLAIMER:

I do not own the Greek gods that are mentioned in this story.

They are figments of the Ancient Grecians imaginations.

I only own the character of Heather.

:Chapter 1:

"Wake up, Heather!" My father called from the kitchen of our house. I could hear sizzling. Either Dad was working or cooking.

I groaned as usual. I heard Dad sigh heavily. I got up and off my bed made of steel – handmade by my father and assembled by me – and walked towards him. I stopped when I saw who else was there.

"Hey, Artemis!" I said trying to sound cheerful.

My aunt looked up apparently gloomy. "Hello, Heather," she said.

I looked hard at her. "Something happen?"

Artemis looked at the breakfast my father was preparing. It was a deer. She started to sob. "He didn't deserve this! Poor Steve!" She ran out of the house.

I looked at my father and shrugged. "Where was Mom last night? I didn't hear her come in," I asked, trying to start a conversation. I walked over to Dad.

He kissed me on the forehead. "She went with Uncle Ares last night," He replied gripping the pan he was holding on the stove tighter. He was mad.

I smiled. It wasn't because it was a good thing that my mother was cheating on my father. It was because I am one of the only people who can cheer my father up. I'd always thought that I was the only one who could cool Dad down. "How much do you want to bet that she'll come home pregnant – again?"

"Three drachma," Dad said, still looking at the lamb he was cooking.

I laughed. "That's cheap! I hear Athena will be stopping by today to order new armory," I walked over to the table and set it for two.

"That's about eight drachma. What are you planning to do with all that money?" Dad asked.

I thought hard about that. "I'm saving up," I said after a while.

Dad laughed. "Saving up for what?"

"I have no idea…" I looked at my crippled and deformed father. I felt so bad for him. I had to be kept a secret. His own wife had to have five (or more, I haven't been counting) kids with his brother. His mother had to throw him off Mount Olympus. You guessed right, my father is Hephaestus. He's the Greek god of fire and the forge, not to mention craftsmanship. Mom is Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, love and desire.

I am Heather, the goddess of curiosity and secrecy. That's what I'm all about. I could never tell anyone the secret about myself even if I wanted to. I gave Pandora the gift of curiosity. You could say that I am the reason as to why she opened that box. I made sure that that curiosity would overwhelm her and she would finally open the box and almost destroy mankind.

I have dark hair and dark eyes like my father. My hair is wavy and beautiful because of my mother. I'm not totally fashion obsessed. Anything pretty and comfortable would do. I work hard as well.

Let's go back to my secret. I am believed to be the daughter of Gaia and Gaia alone. Nobody even bothered to confirm my story so I got away with it. Then again, so many gods lie that everyone, soon, gets used to it. Still, if you asked her, she would say that it's the truth – which it isn't. But, who am I to blame?

"How did you sleep, Dad?" I asked him as he set the lamb on the table, trying to change the subject. I yawned and hugged him.

"I didn't sleep at all," He answered, yawning as well. "I was up making more lightning bolts for Granddad Zeus. I finished them when dawn came. Now, don't try to lecture me on the importance of sleep. I'm immortal, I don't need it."

I pouted. "Sure, Dad," I looked out the window and saw Ares walking this way in the distance. "Dad, I think Ares is on his way here."

He joined me at the window and put a hand on my shoulder. "What does he want now?"

I shrugged and went back to my breakfast. I really don't mind Ares' presence. Dad hates his guts. Mom loves him.

"He's probably going to tell me about how great Mom…" My father started to say. I'd rather not tell the rest – it's quite graphic.

I hope that by now you understand the situation. This is because my story is about to take a few turns towards Trouble Boulevard. I heard a pounding on the door; by the way this is in present day, for all of you mortals reading this. "Miami-Dade PD!" Someone yelled from the other side of the door.

Dad rolled his eyes and yelled, "I know it's you, Ares. You can't fool me."

At that, Ares opened the door. He had his usual armor on but he was holding his helmet. He never did that – ever. Uncle Ares' helmet was his dignity, along with his unit that he will never learn to keep away from anyone. Ares still looked awesome – compared to my dad's ragged, sleeveless tunic. I looked the lamest out of the three of us. I was wearing a blue v-neck and a pair of faded jeans. Both were form fitting. I can't help it! Sue me! I'm the daughter of Aphrodite. Ares still looked so – I cut myself off thinking, "Am I crushing on Ares, the god of war?"

"Hey, Heather," Ares said, noticing me. I smiled shyly back.

"What do you want, Ares?" asked Dad.

Ares raised his arms in the air out of innocence. "Nothing! Just wanted to drop by and say 'Hi'," He stepped backwards, toward the door.

Dad gave him a death glare and said, "Leave. Now!" And he did.

I hope now you can better appreciate your siblings when you see the sibling rivalry going on here. If you don't, be that way. If you do, good for you! You just passed your first test in 'Common Sense', taught by the one and only, Heather.