The Labyrinth *editing*

Chapter 1

This story is actually a version of the Ancient Greek Myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. I really just took that myth as the basis for the story, but honestly, I didn't really follow it that much. I added my own touches, and it is completely different from the myth in many parts, so please don't get too confused. Enjoy! :)

Oh and I almost forgot-- I understnad there's a movie called The Labyrinth??? Maybe?? Well, anyway, I've never even SEEN the movie, so this has nothing to do with it...yeah, so just wanted to clear that up...

 PS Don't copy this and claim credit...get it? got it? good. I've had my experiences with that, and it was NOT fun. So don't even go there -_-

On a happy note: HAVE FUN READING! (assuming you still want to read now that you know a perfectly insane person is writing :D ) Anyway, I'll shut up now! :)

                                                              ~Super Awesome Katie :)

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 XENIA'S POV

I awoke to the sound of birds chirping about our windows. This was especially loud since the window only consists of a gaping hole, nothing more. No glass, as some of the richer families have, not even a shred of fabric for privacy. I liked that way. Anyway, we have nothing to hide.

The window is my main entrance into out mud and brick hut because to me, the door is a place where only formal visitors come into. My mother calls it unsightly to hike up to the window, but since we live in the countryside of, not in the heart of the city, I figure that it’s okay. I don't have all day to get out the house, you see.  

My house was a humble one, in one of the worst parts of Athens, but I didn't really care all that much for city life anyway. Our farm was also small and nothing special, but still, Demeter the goddess of agriculture had good sights on our farm according to mother, because the crops grew well and sold for money that kept us scraping by. I looked around the house contentedly. Our dirt floors, straw mats with brightly colored blankets over them for sleeping, the roughly made olive wood table (hand-crafted by my father) with ugly plain clay bowls of olive oil, dried corn, mush (a mixture of mashed corn, mashed olives, grain, and some rosemary for flavor) that my mother made last night for breakfast this morning, and some crude loaves of bread made from our rough, dark grain we grow here and a vase of water for drinking. I looked towards my parent's mat and saw that my mother was still asleep, and that my father was gone, probably working in the fields.

My youngest sister, Tiana who is a petite girl of 7 was asleep on the same mat as me, and my two middle siblings, Iona (who is 12) and my only brother who is 11, Hector were asleep on another. Iona is a sweet-tempered, sensible girl, who nobody could help adoring. Hector is always funny and respectful, and is a very active, healthy boy that loves games like tag, and I happen to be his favorite sibling. Tiana is more of a show-off and can get annoying because she is extremely smart and loves to show it off, but she still is pleasant when she wants to be, and is helpful when it comes to logical or number problems.

I am fourteen, and what you would call strong minded, or feisty. But I do try and keep my hot temper down, and most of the time, I am able to. But, every once in a while, it gets the better of me and I lose it. Hector always teases me that I am very much like Hades, Nemesis, and Hermes combined together- bad tempered like Hades, am the queen of revenge like Nemesis, and am an excellent thief like Hermes-- though I just take his opinion with a grain of salt. I love outdoors, hate cooking, and I am very handy with a knife, have a good knack for revenge, and am extremely sneaky. I am a good liar and thief, though I try not to use these qualities, and I try and be a nice person. But people are still afraid for their lives when I get mad. And some of the people whom I have had bad experiences with are scared, even when I am calmed. This is nice sometimes, because while the older kids might pick on others my age, they avoid getting on my bad side. Nobody messes with Xenia my father always says with a wink, and that is almost an understatement. Most people avoid talking to me as a whole, much less messing with me.