Theseus had always thought his name was a bit over the top. His mother was a mythology nut. Lucia had studied it her entire life and continued into her late twenties. When she'd settled down with Theseus' father, David Lampton, she'd been adamant they named their children after characters from her area of expertise. 

     Theseus, her little hero, was the oldest, followed rapidly by two sisters, Atalanta and the Psyche. He still wasn't sure is the miniscule age gap was annoying or if he was grateful his parents hadn't waited five years to have another after him. He would've liked to have been able to talk his parents into more normal names, but he didn't think it would've mattered. Besides, by now the three Lampton children were used to their names. Their mother had gotten them a book filled with Greek myths that she'd read to them almost every night. It was cute, cartoony, and filled with around twenty something stories, three of which were about their namesakes. Atalanta was always so smug that no boy had beaten her in her story, Psyche was perfectly happy knowing her character was loyal to her lover and determined to get him back after admitting to her mistakes. Theseus on the other hand, wasn't to fond of his story.

     The original Theseus had been one of the best examples of a Greek hero. In the story he'd grown up with, Theseus beat the monster, saved a bunch of people, and got the girl. Even as a child, that seemed like a big legacy to live up to. His mother never seemed to doubt his ability though. She referred to him as 'her hero' throughout his childhood, and that in itself added to the stress level. Lucia spent to much time buried in her mythology, and Theseus suspected their obsession with perfection had rubbed off on her. The perfect man, the perfect woman, the perfect life for her. His whole life he'd been held to standards he never knew were impossible, and had to struggle to meet them for Lucia's sake. Who was more perfect than his own mother? If Lucia had asked him to learn to fly, he was almost certain her would've tried. That hadn't quite made the list, but he was sure if she'd named him Perseus he would have had to find a Pegasus to ride around. 

     What Theseus had discovered later in his life was that his mother was as far from perfect as anyone else. David and Lucia had married on a bit of a whim, and hadn't waited long for children. Lucia hadn't known David had been previously married until four months into their own marriage. That had been a small bump compared to the one they hit when Lucia's own little secret was revealed. 

     Theseus had been prone to fits when he was little, and it was during one of these episodes that David got sucked into all the crazy. He thought it was his imagination when his son's toys flew out of the crib and began to sip around at top speed. He'd almost convinced himself he was seeing thing similar happened during Atalanta's bath time a few weeks later. By the time the top floor of the house had been flooded, Lucia decided it was time to come clean. Theseus could almost see the reaction his father had to finding out his wife had supernatural powers, and his visual involved his father fainting. According to Lucia, David had taken it rather well. Not many spouses took to the idea of witches and wizards very well, but he accepted it with just a day or two of questioning his sanity. Their marriage did fine, and he never treated his family any differently. David was the ideal father, and Theseus found he enjoyed spending time with him more than he did his mother. Not that he didn't like bonding with her as well. The household had been a loving environment until Theseus was about eight years old. Then everything went downhill. 

     Lucia's obsession with perfection manifested more and more as her children got older. Suddenly, it seemed no one was good enough for her, and while she never said anything, her discontent became clear to those around her. David, on the other hand, had never seen it coming, and had been caught completely off guard when she told him how unhappy she was. He'd pleaded with her, begged her to stay so they could work it out for the children, but she'd made her mind up. She packed her bags one day, saying she needed some time, and never came back. David found the divorce papers in the mail the next week, leaving him to explain to the kids where mummy had gone and why she wasn't coming back. Atalanta and Psyche had been crushed, and Theseus didn't know what to do. For the longest time, he'd thought he was the reason for his mother's absence. He hadn't been good enough, so he'd let her down. Deep down, he knew this was unrealistic, but he'd always tried so hard to make his mother happy, and his father and sisters hadn't done anything wrong. Who else was there to blame?

     The guilt ate at him daily and nightly. Every time one of his sisters cried for mum in the middle of the night, or his father had a break down in the next room, he wanted to cry himself. If he would've tried harder maybe. She might still be there. If he'd lived up to his name they'd all be better off, but he couldn't. He was no hero, why should he have the same name as one? If he could've, he would've dropped the name all together. If he couldn't change his name, he would change himself. He stopped caring, his grades dropped, and his social life became nonexistent. He was afraid of letting anyone down, so he lowered their expectations for him. He didn't realize that he was stressing his father out even more with this approach, and if he had there was no way of telling if he would've even cared. he wasn't the same he'd been before, and David couldn't figure out what to do to get his bright, smiling boy back again. 

     The answer to his problems came unexpectedly one August morning, in the shape of an owl, and a peculiar letter from an even more peculiar school.