Question: Favorite Olympian?

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Three days flashed by in the blink of an eye.

Before I knew it, it was the night of the workers' party. The rest of the staff and I had the whole day off. Many traveled down Olympus to go back to the busy mortal streets and marketplaces.

I, however, stayed in my room. I practiced fighting with my daggers. I might need it tonight. Styx said that an agent was going to be there. She hadn't told me who it was yet, and I didn't know what to expect.

I had grown oddly fond of my new job and the people around me. They weren't evil as Styx had said they were, or at least they didn't appear evil. In this age, one can never trust. I learned that lesson when I was a child. Anti-Olympian propaganda was stuffed into my head.

But for some reason, I couldn't find one reason to destroy this beautiful place and kill everyone in it.

No matter. I would do Styx's bidding.

Evening rolled around, and I dressed in a sky blue long sleeved gown with gems that studded the bodice, and a long flowing skirt that hovered past my ankles. I wore just a little touch of makeup, for Aphrodite said that I should always wear some in public. I hated makeup, though I never had the courage to say it to the goddess's face. I wore comfortable black flats with a golden thread anklet.

Around my neck was the same sapphire pendant I wore in my first dinner here, and cinching my waist was a thin leather belt with my invisible daggers attached. 

Someone knocked at my door. I opened it to see Jamila standing there.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

I nodded, and followed her out to the front door, where the rest of the staff were waiting, all dressed in finery.

We started towards Dionysus' mansion, talking in whispers the whole long way.

I hung back from the group by myself. I still didn't want to go to this party. I turned around and briefly contemplated turning around and going back, but I couldn't. I had a mission.

Holy Styx, I'd told that to myself an uncountable number of times since I'd arrived here.

I made my daggers visible and quietly unsheathed one of them. The blade gleamed in the bright moonlight. I pressed it against my fingertip until the slightest drop of blood tainted it.

I swore I would do way worse things to myself if I failed. More likely though, Styx would kill me herself before I grabbed a dagger.

We reached Dionysus' palace. I could hear all the yelling and talking from inside.

Here we go now.