The actual running away was harder than I had expected. I had never really bothered to find the paupers entrance as I had never wanted to leave. But I could hardly leave by the main entrance because I had no way to get across the river Styx. It is really not a good idea to swim across rivers like that, and the ferryman, Charon, is such a suck up. He would tell Father in a second and then I'd be back in the Underworld and grounded for centuries. So I actually had to sneak out the paupers enterance, dodging Hermes and all the dead souls coming in that way. Then once I got out I was in the middle of nowhere. I should have paid more attention to the times Mother had showed me maps and such. And you can't transform or fly or anything until you're a full god with all your powers and everything. It was not fair. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------On the bright side, you look just like a mortal until you develop your power and get worshippers. So I picked a direction and started walking. Late that afternoon I came to a small town. It seemed good at first, but that was before I realized that I had made a big mistake. I hadn't brought any gold, or anything to barter with. Just wonderful. I had to actually work as a stableboy at the inn for lodging. Not even my own room, I had to share a damp, small room with moss growing on the stones. The others renting the room were loud and smelly and all knew each other. It was very undignified to have to muck stalls and sweep floors and chase after coins flipped my way when I held a stirrup. ----------------------------------By the end of the day my back hurt and I really wanted to tell everyone there that I was in fact a god, and they should be more respectful. But other than the pain and the smell, it seemed kind of like a game. Despite coming dangerously close to exploding at one or two peope who shoved and swore at me, my charade didn't slip once. Unless you counted dinner. I was talking to a drunk altarboy, and accidentally let slip the name of Hades. At once the entire room went silent, and everyone had turned to stare at me for a few mortifying seconds punctuated by the creak of a swinging lantern. I should have remembered; a mortal saying Father's name was tantamount to drawing his attention. Strange, I had never thought to fear my own father before. The humans obviously didn't want the atte ntion of Lord of Death, and I certainly didn't either. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------No, I had not been prepared to run away. I had not even come up with a name. I could not use Adesron, because it means 'son of Hades.' So after a moment of quick thinking I gave Aleron as my name. It seemed apt, because Aleron literally means 'on the wing.' But after a day or so I began to slip into my assumed identity, living off the rather skimpy pay from the inn stables. Just let me say it is a good thing gods do not need to eat. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that the Olympians and my parents would come looking for me, but I hadn't thought about what that would mean. I could not have known that I was in for the rude awakening of my life.