Note: I've had this fanfic idea ever since I was in seventh grade, and it has experienced tons of revamps and rewriting of just about everything. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to write comments. Keep the comments clean and respectful though.

Chapter 1: Normal? Never Met Her

Everyone always thinks they're normal even when they're actually not. Y'know, like the stereotypical tv 'normal girl' who's got some magical powers or a 'normal boy' that's either like super smart or super buff. I, myself, thought I was normal for a long time too.

I was a simple girl who grew up in Salem, Oregon. A simple brown-haired girl who liked to read, wore a blue beanie as if it were mandatory, went to school just as everyone else, and was forced to choose a career at a young age just like everyone else. The only things abnormal about me were my pointy ears and the fact that I had yellow eyes. Not like the aftermath of taking drugs (which I swore I'd never touch), but like hawk eyes. My mom tells me that I have my father's eyes. Who the heck has freaking yellow eyes?

Sorry, I'm getting off track here: As I was saying, other than my yellow eyes and ears, my life was normal. I had a normal life, a mom who loved me, a nice home, a decent school. Pretty normal, right? I thought the same too, until the greatest adventure of my life happened.

My name is Aria Plousios, and this is my story:

It was a peaceful Friday afternoon in my home city of Salem, Oregon. People were walking in and out of the nearest coffee shops, going into the local library, or just taking a nice walk on a rare sunny day. I was riding my bike, minding my own business, taking in the good vibes of the day, when I heard sound of loud snickers and snobs laughing.

Damien White and his posse of his basketball friends and his girlfriend Mona were standing outside a coffee shop laughing at me. Damien was your typical high school bully: Thinks he's a big shot, captain of the basketball team, muscle brained idiot, slept with every busty bubble-headed bimbo he gave his number to, and just a big jerk. He asked me out for a date once, I turned him down, and he's been treating me like crap ever since. It's not my fault he's the most repulsive being to exist.

"Hey, look who decided to come out of her house for a change: Freakazoid!" he called out.

I stopped biking and turned to the jock and his posse. "The name is Aria!" I reminded.

"Well, Fart-ia, what'd you do all summer?" he asked. Fart-ia was just a cruel nickname he gave me when I rejected his date offer, and frankly, it was neither funny nor very clever.

"I bet she went to the museum like any loser would!" his friend, Lester Jackson started to laugh "That's all she ever does!"

While he was right about me spending most of my summer vacation at the local museum, I still didn't like being laughed at, especially by a group of so-called 'high and mighty' high muckamucks. I decided to play their little game of rudeness by asking Damien a very juicy question.

"Remind me again what your summer plans were, Damien. I can't remember." I asked with a sly smirk "Were they to go to the cheer team fundraiser at the car wash or to sleep with Ashley when Mona was vacationing in Wyoming?"

Mona stared at Damien full of rage when I flat-out told her that he cheated on her. Like he'd really be loyal to any of his girlfriends. I was quite satisfied with my clever game.

Damien got out of the chair he was sitting in furiously to talk to me. I wasn't intimidated by him, even if he thought he was. "I don't know what your game is, but yellow-eyed freaks like you shouldn't talk." he told me, his words coming at me like the venom from a spitting cobra "You're a loser, and that's all you'll ever be."

I glared up at him, mentally strangling him until he was purple, and straight up said "At least I'm not a bully." I turned away from those jerks and started to bike home.

Home to me was an apartment that my mom and I lived in just above her spice and tea shop. We shared the place with my uncle Homer, my mom's older brother. My parents had me when Mom was seventeen, and since my grandparents were super religious, they kicked her out when she told them that she was pregnant. Homer was the only one to help her out after she had me.

Dad never was in the picture two months after I was born. It never bothered me as to why he left when Mom had me. Like I said, my parents were young and didn't know a thing about raising a child. Which resulted into my dad leaving us, like a spinless jerk. I was lucky enough to get saddled with at least one parent for the last fifteen years of my life.

Sorry. Getting off track again.

I biked until I got to my mom's shop/our apartment. I hopped off to let the people exiting the store leave without them bumping into me or my bike. The only thanks I got were a few gaping stares and some mean looks. Do doubt they were looking at my eyes. I never asked to have my dad's eyes. Heck, most of the time, I wished I looked just like my mom. I did look more like her than I did my dad.

Her family was of Greek descent, so we shared her family's Mediterranean traits. We had the same olive toned skin, the same heart-shaped face, and the same mousy brown hair. One of our only differences was the fact that she had green eyes like the emerald canopy of a forest.

I brought my bike inside and saw my mom hard at work: Brewing tea for a delivery. She had the determination to help people get better like a Hufflepuff and was twice as kind. To her, tea reduces stress and calms the mind, which comes in handy during a time like now. She was like Uncle Iroh, but instead of life advice, she gave you a nice meal after giving you tea.

Mom looked up from her tea making to greet me home. "Hi, honey. How was your day?"

"I wish I didn't have to go back to that Society of Hurtful Idiotic Teenagers next Monday." I answered.

"Don't think I don't know what that acronym stands for." Mom said. "What happened now?"

I put my bike next to the stairs as I answered her question. "Damien and his idiots happened."

Mom finished up her tea brewing just in time to give me that stern parental look. "Aria, didn't we talk about this?" She reminded. "People who act like a bully are only that way because they don't have a pleasant lifestyle." she told me.

"Mom, his parents are loaded and are actually proud that he treats others like worms." I responded. It was true. His parents are just about as rude as Damien is. Guess the apple didn't fall too far from the tree in that family.

"Well, then he's probably just going through a phase. That's what guys do." Mom said.

"Was Dad ever like that?" I asked. I normally don't ask questions about my dad, but for this I was curious.

Mom rubbed the back of her neck to give her answer "He wasn't a jerk. Sure, he was a hot-head, but he only acted like a jerk when it was necessary."

"Like?"

"Like whenever his brother asked him to visit. And your father hated his brother." She told me.

We were quiet for a bit, but I couldn't help but feel saddened from the fact that I never knew much about my father. Only bits and pieces from what my mom liked to prefer to tell me. I didn't even know my dad had a brother until I asked about it when I was ten.

"I wish I could've met him."

Mom came over to me to give me some of her motherly affection any good mother would give to her kid when they were downtrodden. "Your father loved you from the moment he first saw you." She told me.

"But why'd he leave? Didn't he want us?" I asked her "Didn't he want me?"

Mom embraced me with a comforting hug. "You know how young love can make a person act." She told me.

"Yeah…" I muttered.

Mom gave me a kiss on the forehead and gently stroked my cheek. "Well, enough about that." She smiled. She went back to the cash wrap to fix up the order. "Could you hand me one of those empty care packages, please?" I pulled out a small basket fit for transporting goods and gave it to Mom.

I started thinking about what Damien and his jerks said. They were right about one thing: I would rather spend my time in a museum during the remainder of summer break. "Hey, you think we could go to the museum today?" I asked my mom.

"Again?"

"What can I say?" I shrugged "I like the museum."

She gave a sad head shake. "Well, I won't be able to. I have to drive to Tacoma to give Mrs. Kĩ her tea kit."

"Man, that old lady loves her tea." I muttered.

Mrs. Amy Kĩ was an elderly woman who was a reoccurring customer for my mom's small business. She suffers from paranoid schizophrenia and panic attacks that started during the Vietnam War, and she prefers drinking tea and eating some of my mom's homemade cakes to help soothe her panic attacks. Only problem with giving her the tea is that she can't drive without having a panic attack and lives in Tacoma, which is three hours away from Salem.

"I guess I could drop you off at the museum on my way." Mom thought out loud as she finished up the care package.

"Please?" I begged, pulling out the quivering lip and puppy-dog eyes, my usual trick to sweet-talk her into letting me do something (I only use it when I know it's necessary).

"Homer!"

"What?" my uncle called out from the other room. He works in my mom's shop to handle shipment in case I forgot to mention that about him.

"Watch the shop for me, please. Aria and I are heading out!" she told him.

"Can do!" he answered, giving a comedic thumbs up from the storage room.

"Bye, Uncle Homer!" I called out to him.

Mom and I hopped into her old 1970 Plymouth Road Runner, and we drove off to the museum. I always liked riding in her car instead of driving it, one of the reasons being that I can't drive a stick shift. But the main reason was that I liked looking out the window to see what the world had to show. I like to think that every building has its own unique history behind it.

I know, call me geeky all you want, but I can't help it. There're only a few things that'll get me talking, and history's definitely one of them.

We reached the museum about ten minutes after we left the shop, and I was so eager to go back in for the last time before school came back in session.

"Going to the Greek Art exhibit?" Mom asked as she parked at the front of the museum.

"Yep!" I said as I gleefully hopped out of the car.

"Okay, you have fun, sweetie. Be back by dinner."

"I will!" I said excitedly.

Mom gave me a kiss on the cheek "Love you!"

"Love you too!"

Yeah, I know. A geek like me going to the Greek Art exhibit in a museum. I can't help it. I've always felt so connected with Greek Mythology, my love of it originating from the Disney movie, Hercules.

Yes, I know it's not accurate to the original myths, but I don't care. It's my favorite movie and it's what got me into the whole Greek lore and whatnot, so jot that down before you all start hating. (Besides, I dare you all to name at least ONE Disney movie that's pinpoint accurate to its depressing, gory, or creepy source material).

I had hoped to use my knowledge of Greek myths to become a Greek mythology professor when I got out of school. I just hoped the education system end up paying teachers more money if I ever became one myself. Like history, Greek mythology is the main thing that'll get me talking.

"Oh, to be in an era where it was common to have respect for each other." I said to myself.

It was true, I learned this in my AP History class. The Ancient Greeks didn't hate each other just because someone was different or odd. They treated every stranger they met with the upmost respect they deserved (although, that was mostly because they assumed most strangers were their gods in disguises). Heck, even during battle, soldiers still respected one another. Even the ones they were fighting. The abnormal or odd people to them were considered normal.

It's funny how the modern world seems to not understand that concept while people over 4,000 years ago did. I always wondered what it'd be like to live in a world where quirks were respected and people like me weren't treated like garbage by people they knew.

"Where did all that respect go to?"

I must've lost track of time because the second I was done looking at all the Greek art, it was almost time for the museum to close for the night. But just before I left the exhibit, something flew right past me. I looked, but the only I noticed was that the basement door was cracked open, and there was a strange glowing blue light coming from the basement. There was nobody in the room but me, so how did that door open without keys or somebody using them?

Naturally, I did what any girl like me would do: Be a bonehead and go check out what this mysterious light was. The worst that could happen was the situation to turn into a horror movie.

And like any horror movie, the door slammed shut behind me as soon as I entered the stairwell, and -you guessed it- it was locked from the outside. Forcing me to continue down the stairs.

"H-hello?" I called out. "Is anyone down here?"

I turned the corner of the stairs into the basement. There was nobody in sight. Just a bunch of new artifacts for the Greek art exhibit, and that blue light was just a random flashlight on the floor that had been left on after someone had dropped it underneath a blue curtain.

I picked the flashlight up off the ground and shone it around the room to try to see if anyone was down there. But -again- I saw nobody. Maybe it was just all in my head. I did see a bunch of vases sitting upon their own podiums all telling different stories. One in particular had five small figures painted above a warrior fighting a lion. Something felt oddly familiar about it, but I didn't have the time to figure out why. I had to get back home before my mom got worried.

Just as I was about to head upstairs, a short and mysterious figure in a dark hooded cloak appeared before me out of nowhere. Scaring me and causing me to fall backwards on the floor and losing the flashlight in the process.

"Holy mother-!" I shouted out, kicking my feet away from the figure while trying to find the flashlight. For all I knew, this creeper was a serial killer or a rapist who lured me here so he could kill or rape me. And the flashlight was the only thing I had to defend myself with (flashlights are useful for blinding your opponent and/or bashing it against the opponent's skull according to my uncle). That and a backpack with two very thick books in it. Thank God for four hundred-some page hardback books.

The figure spoke to me, trying not to creep me out. "Do not be afraid, child." the stranger assured me in an eerie, elderly woman's voice. "We mean you no harm."

Two other taller figures appeared next to her. There was something familiar about these strangers. Something that I've seen before. And then it hit me: All three of them lacked eyes, except for the shorter one in the middle who resembled a cyclops.

"You're the Fates." I said wide-eyed. I didn't know whether to be confused, scared, or excited. So, I think I was a mix of the first two emotions when I saw the three Ancient Greek weavers of time.

"Indeed, and we're here because we need your help in our world." Atropos, the Fate who sees the future told me.

I gave a chuckle of nonbelief. This was not happening. I was not in the basement of a museum talking to three old ladies from a Disney movie. My favorite Disney movie, no less. Was the cafeteria milk expired again? Or was this some sick prank from Damien and his jerks? I decided to go ahead and play along with this little joke.

"Okay, am I dreaming?" I asked the three Fates.

"No, and you didn't drink expired milk either." The present-seeing Fate Clotho told me.

"Nor is this a prank from your fellow classmates." The Fate of the past, Lachesis added.

Oh, crap. This was actually real.

"You must listen: We need you to keep the balance in our world in order." Atropos told me "There is a plot going on. A plot that needs to stay where it is, or fate itself will undo."

"And believe us, it takes an eternity to reweave it all." Lachesis remarked cynically.

I arched an eyebrow "Why me?"

"Your knowledge of our world is what will help you keep it in balance." Lachesis explained "You know as much about our world as we do."

"So, what do you propose I do?"

"Go to our world, make sure the plot line stays where it needs to be," Clotho explained "And make sure that hot-head doesn't make you screw it up."

"Hot head?" my eyes widened as I repeated her last comment.

There was only one person they were talking about that fits that description to a tea, and I had a really bad feeling about it. I rubbed my temples in in both confusion and aggravation.

"Are you seriously saying that I have to keep Hades, the freaking Greek god of the Underworld, from ruining the timeline in your world?!" I asked.

"Yes." All three Fates said in unison

Of course that would be their answer. Sure, the Fates were notorious for trolling people, but they don't lie when it comes to prophecies and quests and junk. I knew that, they knew that, everybody freaking knows that. So, why did I expect anything different?

"You must work for him only to carry out the task you've been given." "The events you know will occur will prevent Hades from undoing what must be done."

"So, make sure he fails while working for him?" I reminded in a snark.

"Look, ladies, I'd like to help, but what good am I besides pointing out myths, legends, and stuff I barely remember? Not to mention what you want me to do while working for Hades is a death wish."

"I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong Greek-freak for the job." I moved between two of them and started making my way upstairs so I could get out of there and forget any of that situation ever happened.

"Not only will your quest help us, but it will help you." Clotho said as she tried to reason with me.

I rolled my eyes "Please, how can going to a different dimension possibly help me?"

"Don't sass us, child!" Atropos scolded me "We know you wonder what happened to your father the day he abandoned you and your mother. And let's just say: He's connected with this."

I froze where I stood. My dad was in another time period in another dimension? Was that where he ran off to when he left mom and me? Did Mom lie to me for all these years? All I knew was that the Fates were right. I did want to know the real reason my father left. To get my answers and to say some choice words to his face. Talk about giving into temptation.

"Do I need to hear why?"

Clotho snatched the eye out of Atropos' head, (which almost made me barf witnessing all that), and she held the ocular attachment in her bony fingers as it started to glow a blue light. I remembered something like this from the movie, I was about to receive a prophecy.

"In 13 moons time, exact. You will live in our world as an enigma intact." She started the verse.

The eye showed me a picture of a silhouette of a girl among several figures in Ancient Greek attire; call it a lucky guess, but I assumed that girl was me.

"A minion of Hades is the role you'll play, until your time there ends for you to stay." Lachesis added.

I saw my silhouette standing next to Hades' silhouette; we were shaking hands as if we got done making a deal. I felt a lump form in my throat when I saw that image.

"Then the portal shall open, an lo!" Clotho continued "It shall grant you access home!"

The image changed to my silhouette walking towards a swirling vortex: The portal back home.

"But word of caution about your task." Atropos finished "Should a secret reveal to you, your time there will forever last."

The last image then showed a figure talking to me as the portal behind me started to close. Revealing hidden news so shocking, that it would leave me in that world forever.

The little vision of the future ended, and the eye returned to its normal -yet really gross- self as Clotho put it in one of her sockets. And all was quiet for a brief moment.

"It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" I asked them, breaking the silence. All three nodded at my question, them knowing perfectly well that I didn't have a choice with this quest.

I gave a heavy sigh "Give me a minute, please."

I went back upstairs, stood next to the locked door, and started to get a grasp of all that just happened. This was no dream or prank; it was real. All strangely real.

What I should I do? Just walk away and pretend this never happened, or go on the greatest adventure any person could ask for? This wasn't normal, but then again, what was normal? There was no way the Fates would lie to me about a prophecy they saw for me, especially if it involved a secret and the identity of my father. I really was at a crossroads here. I knew there was no way to avoid something like this, but I couldn't just up and abandon my mom without a word. She'd kill me if I did something like that.

But what was I supposed to tell her? "Hey, Mom, I'm being magically transported to a literal Disney world that's 4,000 years in the past for a year"? She'd think I was going crazy if I flat out told her that, and she'd ground me until after I was dead plus three days (just to make sure I was dead) if I left without a word. However, if the Fates give you a prophecy or quest, there's very time to explain anything to anyone. I had no choice but to leave, but I did send Mom a goodbye text just before I made my way back to the Fates.

"When do I start?" I asked them, ready to await what they had in store for me.

"NOW!"