The thing about being a Theos is, your life is merely a dangerous game.
  I have lost count, and near interest, in the amount of days I have hidden away – let me correct myself; been hidden. My life is not a dangerous game quite like all the other Theos, but merely one more subtle, and a lot more perilous.
  Tis a strange concept to have to wrap one's head around as a child; merely being alive puts you at risk of dying. Of course, we have been provided residence in the Underworld if we wish for it, but I think we'd all rather not at this point in time.
  The very existence of any other Theos – as far as I know – is extremely temperamental and could end as of the slightest wrong word or misinterpretation, but the most forbidden law to break is that of my being, and my dangerous game.
  To not report the birth of a Theos as soon as it is born, before it is even named, is illegal. It is treason of the highest order, as it apparently will lead to the murder of the King, so the criminals that give birth to such a shadow, a blur, to nothingness, must face the death sentence.
  It is this method that, apparently, was my parents' best option.
  I was an accident, without a doubt. Many human children make the joke, and whether it is true or not rarely matters. But I was an accident of the most extreme, life-threatening crime.
  There's a contradiction to all of this. Why would I be kept a secret if I could just be overt in my living and within my generation, and there'd be lesser chance I'd be executed, as well as my parents? One must shrug at the answer, whether it be because they don't know it or they do. To be a grandchild of the King is, in itself, a death sentence.
  So what am I, a grandchild of the most powerful King anybody has ever known of, supposed to do? Hide. Hide and hope, and allow for your parents to do all the technical stuff because you're not supposed to exist.
  The smite of my grandfather is not one anybody can even attempt to deny. He is, after all, the King of the Gods and sky.
  Zeus has many children; a proud man who could not draw himself away from other women aside from his wife, Hera. Amongst the products of these lust affairs are some of the most famous Olympians, such as Hermes, Artemis, and her twin Apollo. There are many half-casts scattered across worlds, which Zeus often refuses to acknowledge as Hera continues her threats and cursing.
  To say that it's a dysfunctional family is a slight understatement.
  Athena, strangely, was born from Zeus alone, apparently bursting through his forehead after his son hit it with an axe. It's not something I ask questions about, so I suggest you don't either.
  What humans consider 'weird' is perfectly normal in Olympus. Hera and Zeus are siblings. My great great grandparents were son and mother, which debatably makes her my great great great grandmother as well. It's a very dishevelled process of mapping.
  I am no half-cast. Do not mistake me for some thrown out child with a human parent who's somehow concealed me from the Gods. It would not be possible.
  My mother is the Goddess of wisdom, craft and war. She fights merely for just causes, and these are not battles she has ever lost. Athena, the woman that exploded out a forehead. My father, controversially, is Apollo, God of truth, prophecy, healing, sun, light, and plague as well as being the outcome of one of Zeus' weak self-control when in the presence his cousin, Leto.
  Theos are the next generation.
  There were the Primordial Deities, then the Titans, then the Olympians, and now us, the Theos.   We are the offspring of the Olympians, slightly more adapted and a lot more... human. The mere difference between the Olympians and the next generation is where they can take any form they wish and their powers are near boundless, we are quite restricted. Zeus can turn into a bird to impress my grandmother just because it's of his desire, I cannot. I, and fellow Theos, can only do what is within the range of what our parents are gods of.
  We are, as the King describes it, 'the lesser species'.
  There is a pattern to the tree of Greek Gods, whereby the next generation eventually defeats the previous, such as Zeus did with Kronos, his father, after he decided to eat all my great aunts and uncles, but we'll leave that story alone for the moment.
  From this, Zeus formed a thesis which he claimed as fact, that his kin of the next evolution would destroy him to take Mount. Olympus for themselves, as history concedes to repeating itself. But, at the time of taking his throne, of sending Hades to the Underworld and of Poseidon claiming rule of the sea, he was close to laughed at.
  There wasn't even a next generation at the time. Theos didn't even exist, and so he was mocked behind his back. 'Behind his back' is more a figure of speech than one could presume, when little escapes a god.
  This angered Zeus, reasonably so, and when the first born of the Olympians was not itself an Olympian, it was struck by a golden bolt immediately, by Zeus' very own hand. Each of the new children to be born were of this generation, with similar restrictions and 'weaknesses' were slaughtered. If Zeus continued to murder each baby born, he would face an uproar like few have ever seen before. The Gods wished to have children, and so Zeus would eventually let them, mostly. He promised to learn better than that of his father's mistakes, and allowed for the Theos to grow at Olympus – with an exception.
  His own children could not bear any, as it was always these individuals in the past who betrayed the throne and the skies above them.
  Few Theos were born still, for fear of the treatment they would receive. Rightly so. Some have been killed for being too outspoken, or not outspoken enough. Zeus' tolerance for the Theos remains severely inadequate, but to hide the child was so much worse.
Zeus will find any hidden Theos, and he will kill them without a flicker of remorse, despite the children usually being related to the King in some way.
  It means, in a summary, I could hardly be in much more danger by merely breathing if I tried. Daughter of two of Zeus' children, a Theos, and hiding right beneath his nose and that incredibly terrifying thunderbolt.
  In order to remain on Mount. Olympus, under the protection of my parents, I had to take up some kind of duty. Everybody that is not a god at Olympus serves, generally, a very specific purpose or job. Maids, butlers, teachers, chiefs – the whole servants committee, and this is apparently the perfect reason to have me appear casually and frequently around the Temple.
  I presently am a lady's maid at just seventeen years old, but apparently the Gods believe I am twenty-one. I am the lady's maid of Aphrodite; she seemingly liked the look of me when I was making her bed one day and requested I have a trial, and I've remained her lady's maid for a year now.
  I feel safe with Aphrodite, not just because she's one of the kindest Olympians to ever grace the Mountain, but because she alone as three Theos-children, and loves them all dearly.
All Olympians maintain the age at which they wish, which is generally early twenties, when they're at their prime youth, so Aphrodite and I look of very similar age in reality. But she has a multitude of millennia beyond my own, being the oldest Olympian, born amongst the Titans before anyone else had taken their first breath.
  She has twenty-four Olympian children, as well as the three Theos, so I frequently find whilst dressing her or preparing her room that a child shall run in and out – child either being someone who is actually a child (two of the Theos) or adults but her children, many being older than myself.
  Zeus can apparently sense Theos to a degree, very well knowing the difference between a human and a god, so if it's neither of them it tends to be somewhat safe to presume. So being around a frequent meeting place of so many Theos is also the best option.
  I make it my priority to avoid arriving face-to-face with the King at all times. I fear that if I ever passed him in one of the many corridors through coincidence, he will notice my presence is not one similar to his own, nor the species of Earth he created.
  We may look human, and be slightly more human than the Gods, but we are far from it.
  We are at far larger risk than any human could imagine themselves in. Escaping the wrath of a God is not a possibility, especially not the King.