Wisdom's Son

A man walked inside of the rainbow-colored store the goddess Iris owned, knowing that she was in there, watching over some pathetic demigod in her crystal ball. He cringed at the thought. Those poor little twerps, he thought.​​​
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​He slammed the door shut, startling the goddess. Luckily, she didn’t drop or break the ball, or he’d of been fucked. She quickly shut it off, letting him know that she was definitely watching over a demigod. He smirked, the stormed over to the goddess, frightening her in every way possible.
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​”Find me a demigod,” he demanded like he was Zeus. Iris rolled her eyes.
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​”If you think you can scare me with that tone of voice, it’s getting you nowhere,” she retorted. “May I ask who you are, and why you need me to find you a demigod?”​​​​​​​​​​
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​”My name remains anonymous,” he said. “Now find me a demigod, lady! I do not have all day!”
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​She rolled her eyes, and obliged otherwise. She waved her feminine hands slowly over the ball as the smoke swirled inside, revealing an image of a boy about 14 or 15 years old, by looks, that is.
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​”He’s perfect,” the man muttered to himself. “What is his name?”
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​”His name remains anonymous,” the goddess replied. Now this really angered the man; he grabbed hold of the goddess by her neck, cutting off her air supply. His actions were useless, though, she’s immortal.
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​”Tell me, and I’ll let you go,” he gritted through his teeth.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ “Do we have a deal?” She nodded as best as she could.
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​He let her go, and she fell to the ground, choking and coughing for air.
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​”His name is Alexander Gaskarth,” she explained. “He’s 15 years old. He lives in a small town near London called Essex. Is that all?” He shook his head.
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​”​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Who is his godly parent?”