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H eadmaster Mykene at least acknowledged a lot of us had been snatched from our beds and hadn’t gotten to eat anything except the magic ice cream. She told us to exit through the right and there would be food waiting. This was where she wanted to meet with us privately to get a feel of us.

She waited until we all fixed a plate of food and started calling us. She called me first and told me to bring my food with me. The selection of food was decent, and I had options. I grabbed what I wanted and followed her to a side room.

Headmaster Mykene indicated I should sit across the desk and sat down. I wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell me in private. She had an extensive file in front of her with my name on it. Which was weird. It was almost like an intimidation tactic because I could see it and I didn’t really know why that information wasn’t on the tablet she was carrying.

“So, now that I have a face to the file, welcome. This is just a one on one for you to ask me anything and for me to get a read on you. Americans are particularly challenging unless you’re Native American. You’re a descendent from a god of certain regional pantheons and America is more of a melting pot. Your DNA is usually made of up several possible pantheons.”

“Mine is pretty boring. My father can trace his line to the Mayflower and they all believe certain people shouldn’t mix. It’s not just races. My father would have had a heart attack and died if I wanted to marry a Catholic. I mean, he kicked me out because I didn’t want to marry his choice, either, so that should narrow it down.”

“That’s where things get complicated. I was worried about telling you this, but I get the feeling you don’t like him very much.”

“I don’t, so talk away.”

“Blue Matthews isn’t your father.”

I fell out laughing. I could maybe believe supernaturals were real and I might be a reincarnated god, but my mother cheating on my father was absolutely ridiculous.

“I’m not sure why that’s funny.”

“My mother is a complete doormat who drank the patriarchy Kool-Aid. When she gave me the talk when I was old enough, she didn’t actually tell me shit. She said to just lay down and let my husband do what he wanted on our wedding night and warned me that sex should only be for making babies or when my husband initiated it. If she cheated on him, she would have told him, and he would have dragged her ass in front of his entire congregation.”

“Be that as it may, your parents were having trouble conceiving a child. They prayed about it but eventually sought medical advice. Blue thought it was all his wife, so he demanded all the tests be run on her and refused any on him. She was completely healthy and fertile. Blue was the reason she wasn’t pregnant.

“He refused to accept that, and her medical file noted he was pretty belligerent at her appointments that this was all her fault. Several of the doctors tried to get her alone to find out if he was abusing her about this.

“She couldn’t risk getting pregnant in a way that would trace back to a clinic in case he found it. We’re pretty sure she met your real father on a mission trip. After a certain point, you’re going to stop aging. We don’t know if your real father just carried the genes or they were a reincarnation. Usually, when a reincarnation’s cycle is ending, they make it a point to have a child to keep the gene pool going.”

“I didn’t know she had it in her. I’m actually proud of her, but I’d be even prouder if she told him to get fucked and left. It explains why my father was so bitter I wasn’t a boy.”

“So, yes. We’re trying to pin down who your actual father is. It’ll help us. After we do the ritual, you’ll see something. It’s a clue to who you were. Sometimes, it’s obvious and sometimes it’s not. Several pantheons have the same types of gods. There were multiple war, love, and death gods and sometimes, the clues aren’t specific.”

“Are you sure I belong here?”

“Yes. You had the mark when you were born and you just have the look of a reincarnation.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Physically perfect.”

“Uh, not exactly. I’d die without insulin. I nearly have a few times. Doesn’t that disqualify me?”

“Not at all. I’m the reincarnation of Athena and I have terrible asthma. I’m much older than I look. I’m old enough that the treatment for asthma used to be smoking cigarettes with belladonna in it.”

My eyes bugged out of my head because that was fucked up.

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yes. It was different times. There’s no magical cure for asthma, either, but we have things to make it easier in the magical world. You’ll have the insulin pump for the trials, but there’s also a potion you can take that will help a little. Not a cure, but it’s good. You’ll be taking intro to potions your first year and if you continue past your second year, you’ll learn to make it. That was all I had if you want to go meet your classmates.”

Provided something didn’t go wrong and I died during the trials.