They occupied our village, our home.

After the village men had been defeated, the former slave soldiers quickly settled down in our homes. They were rowdy and short-tempered. Despite all that they left the temple alone. Even these downtrodden invaders were fearing the divine to the core. They may not have prayed or paid their respects, but burning down a temple was a crime that nobody took lightly. Slaves or not, they were raised in the lands of Greece and taught the power of the gods.

The thirty remaining bandits were led by a man of mysterious countenance and charisma who went by the name of Simon. Unlike his comrades he had never been a slave. He was a high ranking member of the army that had besieged Lamia, but instead of dying on the field he deserted alongside his troops, leading them through the countryside ever since. We did not know him or his infamous betrayals, but even to uneducated villagers it was clear that this man commanded an intense presence.

On the first day after the bloody battle for the village Simon gathered all the survivors near the old mill. His voice was gravelly like pebbles grating against granite.

“Poor villagers of Dankana, hear my words. I am Simon of Thebes! In front of you stands the 4th battalion of the Lamia offensive. What’s left of it anyway.” He lowered his hand on his sword hilt with a weary voice. “We did not come with ill intent, but your men have shown us nothing but hostility. On the first day of our desertion we counted 85 free men. Now not even three dozen are left. Blood and steel have wrought our souls down with horror and despair, but we are done running and we have no intention of ever being threatened again.”

The bandits around us roared in unison.

“Be assured that we will not treat you ill for the offenses of your husbands, sons and brothers-”

“How dare you!” With burning rage the miller’s wife stepped forward and spat at Simon’s boots. Her husband was one of the patrollers that had lost their life first during the attack. The only reason she did not attack the bandits was that her daughter was clinging to her leg.

I was scared, not only of these foreign men, but also of the villagers. These people I had known since I was born suddenly became different. They were not the people I knew. The only one I could lean on was mother, who was holding my hand tightly and watched the events unfold with a stern expression. Since father left she had not once shed a tear or spoken a word.

“You killed my husband, trampled our fields and lie about your intentions! You’d never have negotiated; you’re all dishonorable bastards that prey on the weak! Zeus smite you all!”

“Shut it wench or I’ll make ya silent real quick!” One of the bandits drew his short sword and was dragging the miller’s wife by her hair. The struggle didn’t last long; she would have no way to resist the swift slice of a sword.

“That’s enough.” Simon interjected and raised his hand which made the bandit stay his hand. “Your rage is justified, but our suffering is equal to, no, far greater than yours. If you value what little lifeblood is left of your village, you will obey my commands. You will accept the path fate has paved for you and be the legacy of your kin.” His words were harsh and uncompromising, just as his stance on the world.

We did not have any say, no recourse or hope to escape. Back then I did not understand what an occupation truly meant. My only wish was that I could stay with mother at the temple. The temple was our home, it was where father was.

Just as Simon had declared the only reason we were allowed to live was to tend to their needs. The women kept the houses and cooked, while the children were used for errands and entertainment. As a priestess, mother was given a little more respect. They did not force her to serve them directly and allowed her to stay at the temple with me.

However, Simon often called her to his new base inside the elder’s house. I simply could not know what he wanted with her and I never did find out. Mother never spoke of her meetings or what she thought. She was strong. Her stubbornness got her into trouble many a time.

I was treated like a foreign object. Something that nobody wanted to deal with, but could not ignore. The bandits found my blindness amusing at first. They threw things at me, wanting to laugh at my inability to see it coming, but I managed to dodge most of it thanks to my hearing. That surprised them, but only made them even more fired up to torment me. They often asked me questions of where something was or to solve their disputes over which of their meal rations was bigger. When I failed to answer right I was forced to carry everything into the storage on my own and then bring two equal portions back.

When their harassment escalated one of the village mothers cursed them and said that I was a blessed child. They didn’t believe her, but after mother came to my aid and confirmed it their attacks became less frequent. Nobody wanted to accidentally kill the child that was blessed by a goddess.

I felt guilty to be treated better than all the other children. I could feel their glares on my back. They were treated even worse in my stead.

When one of the bandits beat one of the boys ferociously until he was bleeding, mother went between them and shouted at the man. Her sheer righteousness humbled the drunkard and made him turn tail. The next day he came after mother with three of his companions, but Simon stepped in at the last second. His rule was strict on both the villagers and his own men. He did not allow them to touch the women and he mostly shunned unprovoked violence. Whoever disobeyed would get more severe punishments each time.

These ironclad rules loosened as the months passed on. Incidents piled on. The bandits had attained freedom and a place they could call their own, but they lacked a goal. Wasting away each day waiting for winter to pass was driving them up the walls. At one point one of the boys disappeared. He never returned. After that incident mother confronted Simon and their argument could be heard across the entire village.

In the end he smacked her across the face and let her be tied to a tree for two days and two nights. I wanted to sneak to her while the guards were sleeping, but when she saw me approach she shook her head and simply whispered ‘Leave’. Her voice was so exhausted. Her clothes were soaked from the nightly rain and the cold winter wind.

After her punishment was over mother fell ill. I took care of her as well as I could. With the little food that was distributed amongst us there was just enough for one adult. Mother had always cut on her own meals so I could fill my belly. Now it was my turn to give her all my food. She was having trouble swallowing and keeping it inside, but I kept feeding her. When I was sick, father had told me that I needed to eat even if I felt like the bread was sand and the water mud.

Simon stopped calling for mother and none of the bandits approached our temple anymore. We also didn’t leave, so the only way to get information on what was going on outside was to talk to the children that ran errands to give us supplies. Just like me, they had become silent and lost their cheer. We barely exchanged a word beyond the bare minimum. For once I was thankful that I could not see their expressions.

Mother’s condition worsened on the sixth day of her sickness. She was sweating all over and coughing until she spewed blood. I cried in her arms every night, just wishing her spasms would stop. In the few moments where she was awake and aware, she rubbed my head and told me to stay strong. Those were the same words I uttered to her constantly while she slept.

To my surprise and fear, much later into her sickness she kept talking to father. He was not here, he had still not returned, but she kept talking to him! I searched the temple, looked for him everywhere, but I could not find him. He did not return! Why was mother speaking to him? I could not see - that I had always been used to - but I could not hear him either. My small heart feared that I was losing my other senses as well. If father was really with us, like he said, then why did I not feel him?

While I was despairing, I turned to Lady Athena. I prayed; begged for her advice and support, but she never responded. At first I blamed her. How could she warn us of this evil, but not end it? Were we not worthy of her grace? Such blasphemous thoughts were clouding my childish mind. My immaturity got the better of me and I tried to deny it… deny the one thing that I should never deny.

“Deny… I denied it.” Eugenia clutched her chest. Her breathing had turned shallow and quick.

“Calm yourself.” Medusa wore her worry openly on her face, but did not let it slip into her voice. She had seen something like this before. This young human girl had trouble confronting reality. She was slipping away, giving in to the darkness. Knowing that this could lead only to more problems she grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled it up to force her to sit straight and face her. “You decided that you would tell me your story. Where is that resolve you showed me so many times now? What is it that you fear more than even the Gorgon that is a bane to your kind?”

“Fear? No, I am not- I’m… I’m not afraid!” She gasped as if she was running out of breath and her arm was shaking in Medusa’s grip. This display was too pathetic. The Gorgon let go and let her fall into the dirt.

“If you know what you should not deny, then abandon your denial. That is all there is to it.”

“You-“ She crouched down and held her knees. “You are right.”

“You spoke of your dissent. How you finally realized Athena’s apathy.” Those words should have pleased Medusa, but they were too good to be true. After all the young woman who was sitting in front of her right now was a priestess. “What do you think you were in denial about?”

“Everything bad that happened is my fault.” Eugenia said and pushed her face into her knees.

Medusa grit her teeth. She had expected as much.

“The great and wise Athena gave us two warnings. She chose me to be her messenger. The savior of my village. The blessing, a gift that I was not deserving of, it was all for that day! I should have used it to realize the bandits were ambushing us!” She let all of her regret slip through her legs, face hidden away. “I heard them approaching, but I could not tell mother. I could not warn father. My whole reason for existing was a failure. Lady Athena’s trust was betrayed, her efforts in vain. Even if I devoted my life to her twice over I could not make up for my errors.”

Her words met numb ears. Reflected in the rain puddles was the unblinking glare of a monster. The glinting black and red eyes of snakes a crest around her cold rage.

Medusa held on to a piece of rubble until it was crushed to dust. The sound made Eugenia jerk back.

“Foolish human.” She growled. “That is your greatest regret? To have failed your goddess?”

Eugenia’s hair hung into her uncomprehending face. All she could do was listen to Medusa’s stewing anger. After a while she nodded.

“It was my fault.”

And that was when Medusa stopped her seething heart from beating against her soul. In a moment her face returned to apathetic neutrality and the hissing on her head stopped altogether. The snakes sensed her returning calm and felt threatened no more.

“A pawn shall always be a pawn.” She said. “Where has that realization led you?”

It took the girl a moment to realize that the Gorgon asked her to continue her story. The extreme change in the atmosphere made her uneasy, but she decided to comply.

“To our surprise Simon appeared at the temple one day.”

The leader of the deserters had not come to our home once. He had called mother over before, but never deigned to visit us. When he suddenly stood in the door frame my heart almost stopped. I could feel his gaze on me and the pressure of his presence crushed me.

“Child, is your mother still breathing?” He asked curtly.

Unable to reply to his question I could only nod.

He brushed past me. The light armor around his waist hit my cheek, but he did not even slow down. I shrieked a little and held on to one of the pillars. Simon was heading for mother’s bedstead! With forced courage I moved my legs and stumbled after him.

I entered the room right after him, but what he saw I could never have predicted.

“So you finally decided to come.” Mother spoke with a strong voice and sat upright.

That should have been impossible. This morning she had still been deliriously twisting under the covers, barely able to stop herself from coughing up a storm. Now she greeted Simon with all the grace and authority worthy of a priestess.

“Kynthia, are you alright?” He asked her with some genuine concern.

“As you can see. Mere sickness cannot keep me from my duties.” Her words were forced, but even I could not have told she was lying from her calm tone.

“I see. I should have expected as much from you.” Simon seemed to take her at face value, but he must surely have noticed the bloody rags piled next to mother’s bedstead. He was nothing if not perceptive. Perhaps for that reason he settled down on a chair next to her and kept quiet.

“I know that expression.” Mother said with a deep sigh.

“What?”

“My husband, he always looked the same way when one of his projects fell through. The face of a regretful man.”

“He was lucky to have such a quick-witted wife.” He replied dryly. “You know, I ordered my men to give all the villagers a proper burial. I may have to pay his grave a visit. I heard from one of the women that he was the one who build most of the houses here? Solid construction. Could last through a long winter and a siege alike.”

“He was the best at his work.” Mother trailed off. She noticed me hiding behind a vase. She immediately picked up the water jar next to her and slammed it down. That was her signal for me to leave. She had to redirect her attention to Simon, so she didn’t realize that I stayed. I should not defy my mother, but at that moment I could not leave. “Out with it Simon. Why have you come to see me?” She must have been pale and exhausted, yet she kept up the strong façade.

“Kynthia, do you hate me?” He suddenly asked with his hands folded while leaning his elbows on his legs.

“You must know the answer to that question.” She replied with an icy voice.

“You may hate me for my decisions and for what I have done. I am certain that those I betrayed at Lamia will curse my name forever.” He squinted his eyes and looked off into his past. “I am originally from Thebes, but I left my home to venture far away. My father always told me to see the world, to make myself a clear picture of what I would find.”

“And that picture looked like what exactly?”

“Chains. Blood and iron. Freedom taken by the hands of fellow men.” He said darkly. “Kynthia, your village may be far away from politics and the gears that turn our human realm, but even you must know about the expanding slavery across the world.”

“I heard of it.” She replied with some trouble. I could sense that she was losing her strength already.

“In cultured cities like Thebes or Lamia things may not be so harsh. Slaves are treated as citizens and may engage in occupations, own their own money and homes. The only difference between a slave and free man is the contract of ownership.” He rubbed his chin. “But matters are different on the countryside. The food supplies that get the large city states through the winter, the fine wine that entertains the aristocracy, even the lumber that they sleep on and that shields them from the weather, they all are made on the hunched backs of slaves!” He steadily raised his voice.

“Slaves are not…” Mother muttered.

“I know what you wish to say. Most slaves live a passable life, able to rest in a warm haystack and being fed enough not to starve. That is more than many can say about the barbarous lands in the north and east. I understand this very well. But I cannot abide by it. The difference is that slaves have no choice in the matter. They work until their bodies collapse and break, for the sake of a few chosen people far away that will never acknowledge their existence beyond a few numbers in a ledger.”

“You believe yourself to be a freedom fighter then?” Mother could not help but glare at him.

“When I saw the anti-Lamia sentiment and the will of the men around me to tear down their walls and rules I was delighted. With my influence and power I would have been able to make sure that things would become different at least in this small part of the world. I cannot hope to sway the slavers in Attica or Sparta, but Lamia was in my grasp.” He clutched his fist in regret. “But I could not allow my superiors’ tactics. They planned to throw the slave infantry at their walls until the corpses would pile higher than even the watch towers.”

His words were stark and tinged in disgust. The things he had seen and heard must have haunted him for a long time.

“To make matters worse, I realized that our campaign was doomed. Our momentum was halted too many times along the way. Every village we came across fought with tooth and nail. They would not abandon their ways or their privileges for our cause. By the time the siege on Lamia began we were already exhausted and weakened. So I decided to do the only thing I could: Desert with my battalion and save at least the lives of these few doomed men.”

“The gods have not looked upon you kindly for your deeds, Simon. It is not too late to ask for forgiveness.”

“The gods?” He huffed. “Don’t make me laugh. The gods never cared for human toil and suffering. They do not condemn slavery and fight not our wars. They only pull the strings behind conflicts that concern their own interests. They are no better than the Archons in the cities or the kings of the isles.” He put a hand on his sheathed blade and turned his head away. “Your deep faith could not prevent the suffering upon Dankana, could it?”

Mother was unable to respond. Perhaps her throat was hurting too much or maybe she really did have no words to object. Simon interpreted it as smoldering hatred instead.

“I apologize. I did not come here to affront you.” His regret was clear. “My comrades are former slaves, men who knew not what freedom is. They have been trained to be soldiers, to fall in the fray since the day they were born. Lads without a future altogether. I offered them something they could never have, but I am weak.” He let his head sink. “I am a soldier. I could fight for their freedom, I could shed blood for our cause and I can even keep them in line by force. But I cannot teach them… how to be free.”

“You imposed your ideals on them and now they live for your sake.” Mother said, suddenly understanding everything.

“They are not bad men. They are not evil. I failed them. They are trying to understand the freedom I gave them, the freedom that all their brothers died to achieve. We were 85 when we left the army behind, but four of them died in a ditch, six when we crossed the mountains and were caught in a mudslide during the storm. Seven… drowned in the river when we snuck into your village on my order. The rest was killed in the battle with the ferocious claws of Dankana. Now we count merely 30. More than half of the souls I ‘saved’ are lost. Yet the living still look to me for salvation.” His voice became frail and shook.

“Simon, why are you here?” It was almost a plea from my mother.

“I do not know what… I cannot keep…” He struggled with his shaking body.

“Is it not you who wishes for salvation the most?”

He widened his eyes.

“I cannot give you what you wish for.” Mother said honestly.

“Truly? Have I lost the right to believe?” He chuckled in despair.

“You should pray to Athena to ask for… wisdom.” Mother muttered and fell back into the bed, her face covered in cold sweat.

Simon rubbed his face and then rose from the chair. His entire presence seemed vulnerable and sad. He put something next to mother’s head and walked out the door. Just when his coat waved in the wind as he turned he spoke once more.

“I cannot use the wisdom of someone who sees everything from high above on the mountain top. We humans live and fail with the wisdom we build on our own here on the muddy soil. Goodbye Kynthia.”

With that last jaded remark he left us behind.

I rushed to mother’s side and noted her ragged breathing and painfully twisted hands. Using my small child hands I carried a small water jar to her mouth and made her drink. She coughed more than she swallowed. Then she put a hand to my cheek and focused again.

“Eugenia, my sweet girl… listen to mother.” She pulled me closer and whispered into my ear. “Never lose yourself… Never lose sight of yourself and your duties. When you find meaning in something you have to stick to it. Athena is with those that stay true to themselves and her teachings.”

“I will mother.” I once again made a promise that I could never allow myself to break. Just like when I promised father to look after mother.

“You are an honest girl. Our pride and joy. Isn’t that right… dear?” She sank back into the bed and drifted away.

I perked my ears to hear father’s answer, but it never came. A light breeze made the flower next to mother's head fall to the floor.

“My mother passed away soon after.” Eugenia said with misty eyes. She somehow got a grip though and wiped her eyes with the back of her bandaged hand. “Afterwards things got worse for the village. The occupation lasted long past winter. Simon of Thebes lost his reigns on the men and started to hole himself up at the elder’s house. With their lack of experience with farming the former soldiers didn’t know how to ration themselves well.”

“You ran out of nourishment.” Medusa concluded.

“During the first summer.”

“Your village kin, they knew about the process. Did they teach these bandits how to plow the fields?”

“There were not many of us left by that time.” Eugenia choked up and swallowed the memories away. “Simon managed to get some scouts to trade with wandering peddlers. They also robbed a trading caravan once.”

“A mistake no doubt.”

“Lamia had destroyed the opposition and was rebuilding, but when a supply caravan did not arrive… You understand what happened next.”

Medusa nodded. A small village was a trading outpost for some merchants, but it would barely even be missed by anyone if it suddenly disappeared. However, if supplies stopped because of something in that village, it would become a high priority.

“How long did it take for the other humans to free you?”

“Two years.” Eugenia said quietly.

“Two years?” Even Medusa was shocked. “You were a prisoner of bandits for two years?”

“The great and wise Athena watched over me, I am certain. Whenever one of the bandits would try to harm me, they experienced terrible accidents. For that reason I was left alone at the temple.” She gave the Gorgon a weak smile. “When the forces from Lamia arrived and raided the village, I was doing my duties in the temple as usual. The only difference was in who came to knock at my door.”

That tone, that smile, finally Medusa could really understand what place the priestess’ mind was in.

“I heard they hanged Simon for his crimes and the remaining men were forced back into slavery in a deep and dark mine. It was their punishment, as ordained by the gods.”

“That sounds like a punishment born from human minds.” Medusa muttered. She slithered next to Eugenia and pressed a plum into her hands. It was something that would help to fill her dry mouth and keep her from making that terribly wrong smile.

“Thank you!” She dug into the fruit with fervor. Her attitude had changed the moment she had unceremoniously ended the story of her liberation.

Time passed as the sun moved across the sky. They basked in the silence after a long story. Eventually when Medusa was about to doze off, Eugenia opened her mouth once more.

“I never told anyone about this before.”

Medusa could understand why. She had simply no reply, to anything really. All she could do now was pry further. Was that acceptable? “How did you become a priestess then?”

“Ah!” Her face lit up. “After we were liberated, Lamia sent new settlers to take over the village. The few of us who remained were asked to teach them the ropes.”

“You taught someone to keep a field?” Medusa raised a brow in doubt.

“Oh no, I was actually sent to Lamia.” Eugenia explained with a raised finger. “The rumors about my blessing and protection somehow got spread around. The supervisor of the settling efforts picked up on it and called for support from the city. I was taken in by the priestesses in Lamia’s main temple and they taught me as much as they could.” For some reason these great blessings sounded mundane coming from her mouth? No, that wasn’t it. She did seem rather troubled.

“Did you return to your village afterwards?”

“I was taught in Lamia until I was ten, but then they sent me to Athens to study under the greatest priestess of Athena, Akacia. She was amazing. Very demanding, but amazing.” Eugenia said with a dreamy expression. She must have valued that woman a great deal.

“I did not know you were a priestess in that woman’s city.” She had never been to Athens, but any place named after that woman could not be to her liking.

“Huh? No no, I only studied there for two years, and then I had to return home.” She hastily returned to the present.

“Hmph. How much effort it takes to become an obedient pet.” She said sardonically.

“Say, Lady Medusa. Why do you despise the great and wise Athena so much?” The question was sudden and caught the Gorgon off-guard.

After noticing that Medusa would not reply Eugenia scratched her dirty cheek and seemed sorry.

“I thought, now that I told you a little about myself, maybe you could, uh…”

“I have no intention of telling you my life’s story.” Medusa rejected her subtle request flatly.

“Why?! You are so mean!”

“I hate who I hate and that is all you need to know.” The Gorgon shrugged.

“I know this.” Eugenia surprisingly did not give up like usual. She put a hand to her heart. “I know how much remembering bad things can hurt. But if you never remember it, you might forget who you are.”

The world truly must have turned upside down for a human to worry about a monster’s mental wellbeing. Medusa wanted to smack the impudent girl’s head, but decided to sigh instead.

“You can hardly carry your own past; do not be so arrogant to believe that you can bear mine as well.” She pushed herself off the wall and stretched her limbs. The snakes on her head yawned. “The Greenhouse is freed from rubble, so you can sleep there for now. Or tend to the plants, I do not care.”

“You are running again.” Eugenia said, her words cutting the air like a sharpened arrow tip.

“Excuse me?”

“We cannot know what I can bear until I try! But if you keep evading me like that I will only worry more!” The young woman stood tall and stretched her hands to the sides. “I do not want the two people that mean most to me to hate each other!!”

Medusa stopped her mouth before it could even form sounds. She had not expected to hear these words, perhaps ever.

This was starting to get tiresome. How many times could she be shaken up by a human in just one day? Eventually she would lose her pride as a monster feared by all if she kept letting a child lead her on. Yes, a naïve, clueless, short-sighted child.

“There must be a reason why you hate Lady Athena! Whatever happened between you, it must have been a misunderstanding! Lady Athena is wise and forgiving! You are soft-hearted and patient! There must be something that I can do to make you reconcile!” She had shouted all of it as loudly as she could with closed eyes and balled fists. These were the feelings she had kept inside for so long. Something that she had been burdened with ever since she came here.

“Human.” Medusa replied with an unreadable expression. “This is not something you should get involved with.” That was all Medusa said before turning away.

Eugenia could not help but feel that she had failed again. Had her entire life not been just a series of failures? Would she always fail when it mattered the most?

“I will make you tell me.” She spoke with unknown conviction.

“Oh?”

“The day will come where I will understand the real you. You may consider me foolish, weak and unreliable, but humans have the capacity to grow. I learned from my childhood, I went beyond my training at the temple and I will surely greet the day where I can walk between you and Lady Athena with my head held high. That is my promise to you Medusa!”

The Gorgon stood still. Impertinent words, boastful words, nothing but the delusions of a child. That is what the human girl was giving her. That was all it would ever be. They could not penetrate her heart of stone. And yet. There was comfort in her soul. Somehow this human girl had reassured her in her own way. It was a futile battle between a curse and a promise, but to the Gorgon there was meaning in it.

“I will see you try.” She whispered with a hidden smile.

A past unveiled, another locked away. The two who had taken a step closer found the gorge between them as insurmountable as before, but the first stone for a bridge had been put to the edge. And as the Gorgon shut her mouth tightly for now, far away another’s was forced open.