I don't know how this happened, I don't. But it happened anyway, no one can change that, no one. I'm a goddess. The only problem is that I'm a mortal goddess. I'm like all gods. Don't die, don't age. My only problem is that I can die. I can bleed to death. I can die like a normal person. Get run over by a car, get poisoned, get stabbed, get crushed by a bowling ball, get mutilated, then lightly charred, then buried alive, then suffocate. Like, the Hunters of Artemis, except way cooler, awesomer, powerful and godly. Many ask how did this "miracle" happen. Even Athena studied it, for years. But no one, absolutely no one, mortal, immortal, can figure out how the goddess Eveglia- goddess of emotions and revealment, daughter of Hades and Aphrodite turned out mortal. No one actually knew I was mortal until I was accidentally stabbed when I was 8. It was very painful, and I would not like a repeat experience.

I was pondering my mortality as I usually did on my birthday. It was a system that kept me organized and kept my mental state in check, it was my recharge day. Then as the clock struck twelve, I would return to my normal self. Turned people into vegetation and hoped they would get trampled, eaten, or picked. I tortured couples when I had nothing to do. Played with people's emotions, made people commit suicide, rarely, but I still did it. As an all powerful mortal being I prefered to let everyone know that I was as godly as anyone else, even if I killed a few people to prove it.

I must say my routine was going fine, until I saved one of Hecate's demigods at her pleas. It was a demigod I truly despised. The demigod had a thing against me, and I had a thing against that rotten, vile, disgusting, pigheaded, abnormally large eared, flower loving, suspiciously tall demigod. Hecate said she would owe me a debt. And if anyone knows, having Hecate in your debt is not bad, having anyone in your debt is not bad. That's why no one asks me for help, I have a really good memory and never forget. I listened. I saved the demigod in 1435, at 10:32 on my birthday. I gave her until 1910 to repay her debt to me. Hecate being the little fucking smartass she is thought she could get away without paying. As if, I'm not the goddess of free favors. I started planning my revenge, to calm down and I didn't actually expect to go through with it. But, hey, if you have the chance, take it. Just because I don't give stuff for free, doesn't mean I don't take the free stuff.

The name of the chance was Tom Riddle. He was a wizard. Part of Hecate's little pet world. His mother died at his birth only given enough time by the Fates to name the child. His father abandoned his mother while she was pregnant. He was a mortal, or as the wizarding world called it, muggle. I toed with Riddle's feelings. Because, people really underestimate the power of a single, strong emotion. He caused havoc and discord among Hecate's pet world. He named himself Lord Voldemort. Killed many people, caused chaos, angered my father. It was perfect.

Then he was destroyed by love. My mother really didn't like Tom. He was destroyed by a one year old named Harry Potter. Well, not really. Harry Potter's mother did a thing, and died for him and then bam, Riddle dies, and Hecate doesn't have enough stomach ulcers caused by stress.

Riddle wouldn't have gone to the Potter's house to be destroyed if it wasn't for the god damn prophecy. Sometimes I loathe Apollo and his prophecies. When Harry Potter was nine years old, I infiltrated Hogwarts as Emmeraldis Rains, got placed in Gryffindor for the sake of the fact that from my studies of Harry Potter I knew he wasn't a Slytherin. Accidentally befriended the Weasley twins. To make sure my plan was not to have any problems I made sure that neither Potter, nor Riddle could die until I decided the time was right. Until Hecate repaid my debt. This might have been a bit awkward if it was 3,000 years into the future and they were both alive, but why think that far. Truthfully this was a bit awkward, waiting, pretending to be 11, but the moment that owl flew into my palace, somewhere on Mt. Olympus, I knew it was all worth it.

Routines are good and all. They keep your mental state in check. But, there is nothing, absolutely, positively nothing, like a good, old-fashioned adventure.