“Have you ever heard of Teiresias before?” Typhos asked me before he began his story.

“He was the wise seer that Odysseus spoke to in the Underworld.” I nodded tentatively. The Odyssey was one of the stories I had been told the most after all.

“Indeed, even in death his power of foresight never waned. To this day he must be advising those who wander between worlds with his wisdom.” The scholar was pleased to know that I was not completely clueless. “But he began as naught but an ordinary man. Unlike you, he was not born blind and he had never been able to foretell so much as the wetness of water as a lad.”

“Then how did he come to change?”

“In the same way that all great stories begin: By upsetting the gods.” He smirked when I gave him a distraught expression. “As I said, this tale may be unfamiliar to the people of Athens for many reasons, so I would like you not to mention it in front of Akacia. She will surely have my head this time if she finds out I have been leading her precious students astray.”

“I won’t say a word about it to anyone!” I promised.

“I am grateful. Well then, let us begin with some history. Although it may be an unpopular matter to Atticans, Thebes has a long standing connection with our patron goddess as well. When the legendary Cadmus, founder and first king of Thebes, went to the Oracle of Delphi…”

Cadmus was a heroic man from the distant land of Phoenicia, who was on the search for his sister Europa, which had been taken by Zeus in lust not long before. His journey was interrupted many times by challenges, but he would not relent on his search. All heroes’ journeys would eventually bring them to Delphi where the Oracle was freely sharing prophecy with those who were deserving.

To his shock, Cadmus was commanded to give up his search for his sister and instead follow a cow with a half-moon mark on its hide to a holy spot where he was tasked to build a city! He did as he was told, faithful man that he was, and followed the bovine to the distant spot where it finally stopped to rest. He decided to sacrifice the cow to the great goddess Athena, but first he required fresh water to sate the animal and his own thirst. Only was the closest spring protected by none other than a sacred dragon!

Oh bitter misfortune, the dragon slew all of Cadmus’ men with its sharp teeth and deadly claws. The man was not one to forgive such an act of senseless death and fought the dragon with all his rage. Eventually he managed to slay the beast and spilled its blood across the earth, leaving nothing but a scaled corpse behind. Little did he know that this dragon was under the protection of the wrathful god of war, Ares!

Alas, Ares would not be glad to hear of these events, but he did not find out quite so soon. Instead Cadmus, now bereft of his followers, was at a loss for what to do, until Athena indeed appeared to him not even waiting for the cow to be sacrificed in her name. As is her nature, she gave Cadmus invaluable advice and handed him half the teeth of Ares’ dragon, which she asked him to plant into the ground as if they were seeds on a field.

From the earth sprang several dozen men which were full-grown and powerful, the Spartoi. Afraid of their prowess, Cadmus threw a rock their way, but the sown men were unaware of his action and accused each other of throwing the stone. Soon they started fighting amongst each other and were nearly all killed. Only five of the proud Spartoi remained and supported Cadmus in his task to build the city. Thus Thebes was founded on the blood of dragons and earth born men.

“Lady Athena helped the first king of Thebes?” My jaw was lowered in surprise and reverence. It seemed that the goddess I served was always at the forefront of humanity’s growth.

“So they say in Thebes. The line of Cadmus and the Spartoi was long and fruitful, but they were also befallen by many tragedies. Some that could have been prevented had they only listened to the man of our interest.” He shook his head in feigned disappointment.

“Was Teiresias related to King Cadmus?” It seemed like that was the reason why Typhos had brought him up.

“Not quite. He was a descendant of Udaeus, one of the five Spartoi, actually. Still, that made him destined to be connected to Thebes for life. A life that would have been unremarkable had it not been for his mother.” He tapped his rings ominously. “Please be assured that what I am about to tell you is just one of many stories surrounding him. I cannot ascertain their veracity.”

I nodded slowly, unsure of how the air had grown so heavy at his words.

Once upon a time there was a man, the descendant of the Spartoi, Udaeus. His name was Everes. Unlike his ancestor, Everes was merely a humble shepherd who led his flock across the verdant hills around Thebes. He was a simple man, but one of great faith and integrity. When he was told by his friend to sacrifice some of his sheep to Apollo to pray for a fulfilled love life, he took him earnestly and tracked upon Mount Helicon to go through with the sacrifice. Misfortune struck when one of his lambs fell down a gorge and Everes jumped after it to save it from its tumbling fall.

The shepherd found himself holding the poor lamb safe in his arms, but with his own ankle sprained and out of sight from any mountain path. Here he came upon the most beautiful mountain spring, glittering with mysterious mist and magic. The waters of Hippocrene escaped a legendary spring favored by the Muses and other such beings who enjoyed its gift of poetic inspiration.

Unware of the treasure he had met upon, the shepherd merely gave the frightened lamb a chance to quench its thirst and then held out his hand to cup some of the clear water for himself. As he looked upon the water’s reflection he saw the illusion of a woman’s beautiful face from between the trees and quickly raised his head, only to see her truly there. It was the first meeting of Everes the shepherd and the lovely nymph, Chariklo.

The nymph had a caring personality and nursed Everes back to health inside the woods. Although she was compassionate and cheerful, she also kept the man at a distance, for she was devoted only to one: her goddess Athena. Until this day she had never met a human before and had only succumbed to curiosity when she saw the way Everes had put himself in harm’s way to protect his lamb.

The dissimilar pair soon grew fond of each other and she sang for Everes whenever he came to visit the mountain with his flock. It became clear soon enough that the sacrifice for Apollo had lost its meaning, for Everes had already found his love. To court a nymph was no easy feat for even a king or hero, but Everes had no such aspirations, he merely valued her beautiful voice and was satisfied with their sporadic meetings.

That was until one day, in a moment of passion, they crossed a line that should have been well kept. Chariklo was deeply ashamed of her deed, as she had sworn a vow of celibacy to her goddess. When she came before Athena she was ready to give her life to repay the mistake.

“Do not fear, darling. The passion you showed that man cannot compare to the devotion you have shown me all your life. I can sense that you are with child now, so you may raise it with the father amongst the other humans. Once the child reaches adulthood you shall return to my side, so that I may hear your beautiful voice free of the ties of worry.”

Chariklo was Athena’s favorite, the only woman so close to her that she could have been called her beloved. No matter what the nymph would do, Athena always forgave her. In return Chariklo’s devotion and affection for the goddess grew many times. She fulfilled her promise and raised the boy she gave birth to at the side of Everes. They lived in a hut near Thebes and spent peaceful days as a family.

Once their son, Teiresias, grew mature enough to carry a thin beard it was time for Chariklo to return to Mount Helicon. The old shepherd let her go in peace and declared his undying love until the last moment, which she never did return, leaving with only a faint smile.

Everes had grown somewhat feeble in his age and taught his son the ways of shepherding and hunting, while the young man often would visit his mother in the forest to tell her of his exploits. The kindly nymph was glad to see her own flesh and blood grow into a life free of worry, much like she had always experienced, but she hid those meetings from Athena, knowing well that the goddess had little love for the boy.

“Will you not return to see father again? He has become sickly and may not see the next summer.”

Teiresias asked his mother many times to come back to their home, but Chariklo refused every time. Both she and Everes had agreed that they would part ways long ago. Their once entanglement was never more than that, but she would not consider it a mistake, for their union had given her this beloved son. A son that she may indeed have loved more than even her goddess.

Everes passed peacefully after he was given sacred herbs that his son had obtained from Chariklo. Those herbs had the property of numbing all pain, allowing humans to die in their sleep. The nymph had asked Athena for them and the goddess, although dismayed at her beloved’s lingering attachment to the human, parted with them for her sake.

Teiresias was left behind to follow his father’s profession and stopped visiting his mother, for he blamed her devotion to Athena for their torn family. In the wiles of youthful righteousness he thought ill of those who had shown him such leniency before.

As fate would have it, he one day returned to Mount Helicon with his hunting hounds, stalking some elusive prey. He found himself near the same gorge that his father had jumped down so many years ago, but he managed to avoid the same fate, though he lost his hounds in the tumble. Worn from his long trek and hunt, he searched for the waters of Hippocrene that his mother had told him of long ago. His thirst was great and the spring nearby, so he pushed through the brush to quench his body with the magical waters.

Oh cruel fate! Just as he had arrived he walked into the scene of Chariklo and Athena frolicking inside the spring, only just disrobed in front of his eyes. Fear struck Chariklo and Teiresias, as Athena stood bare before the eyes of a man. By the old divine laws of Cronus it was forbidden to look upon the nude appearance of the goddess! The punishment for such a crime was death.

Immediately Athena had blinded the boy’s eyes with her power, but the damage had been done. Chariklo saddened and desperate screamed and begged for Athena to undo her curse, but as dear as Chariklo was to her, it was out of the goddess power to defy the laws. The blindness was irreversible.

As the beautiful nymph’s tears mixed with the glowing waters around them Athena put her hand to her beloved’s cheek and softly caressed it. She spoke the following words with gentle determination:

“You mustn’t grieve so, darling. Your son will be honored, all for your sake, by divine gift to him. I will make him a prophet, his fame will be mythic, the greatest seer that will ever be. He'll know all the birds in the sky, those of good omen and those whose flight presages doom. He'll give oracles to the Boeotians, oracles to Cadmus, oracles to the mighty descendants of Labdacus. I will give him a great staff to guide his footstep and I will give him time, a long term of life. And he alone, when he dies, will walk among the fallen, wits intact, honored by Hades, host of the dead.”

It was a blessing given freely and without compensation. The son that had been born from Chariklo’s flesh would walk the world blindly, but see more than any seeing man could. He would live for seven full generations, serving as a prophet of Apollo, as he could not devote himself to Athena. Teiresias was famous for advising and guiding many Theban key figures with his prophecies. He encountered mythical men such as Narcissus, Amphitryon, Oedipus and Creon. Many people followed his advice, others spurned it at their own peril.

His life finally came to an end when he had to flee the burning Thebes and drank from a poisoned spring. As if the city’s wounds and the poisonous smoke were his own ailments, he succumbed to the darkness. Just as Athena’s blessing promised, he retained his wits in the Underworld and is giving prophecies to those who visit him even to this day.

“The tales of his prophecies are too many to retell even in an entire day, but now you see - well, now you know - that even a blind prophet could rise to fame under the blessing of your goddess.” Typhos ended the story with a jovial line. Like all good storytellers he may have embellished a few things here and there, but the moral of the tale was clear. Or was it? I had started to grow a small flame of doubt from the kindling of melancholy.

“He sounds like a great man.” I folded my hands together, but Typhos surely noticed how stiff my shoulders were.

“Yet you find issue with him?”

“It sounded to me like… he never grew to like Lady Athena.” I muttered with honesty.

“Oh! Yes, he did seem the sort who could hardly let bygones be bygones, but he helped many people with his gift, so he spread your goddess will all the same.”

The scholar’s words doused the fires of my doubts slightly, but I could not get the uncomfortable details of the story out of my head so soon.

“I had no idea.” I increased the force between my folded hands and let the words digest in my heart. “I have never been taught about this Chariklo.”

“Ah, that does not surprise me. No matter how much I researched and asked around, there is little known of her. It is somewhat frustrating for a scholar like myself to be left in the dark about such a fascinating woman.”

“So you don’t know what happened to her? If she was so important to the great and wise Athena, then she may still be out there!” It got me excited to think that someone who could warm the heart of my goddess was out there waiting for her.

Typhos turned silent and cupped his chin and mouth with one hand, as if holding back something from escaping his lips. He tapped his foot a few times and then sighed, relenting to my curious expression.

“This story was meant to bring back that pretty little smile on your face, so I would have liked to keep it vague.” He admitted. “From what little I could gather there is only one certainty about the nymph Chariklo: She died a long time ago.”

“Goodness…!” I frowned and inhaled painfully.

“It seems there is an olive orchard named after her in the south. I have not been able to visit it yet, but it is rumored to be breathtaking in summer and endlessly fruitful even out of season. ‘Chariklo’s Orchard’, the name has a wonderful emotion to it, no?”

Was he merely trying to numb the blow to my heart? I could not tell what he was thinking back then, but I knew his words to be compassionate and deliberate. All he had been doing since I met him was encourage me and teach me things the priestesses would not.

I could not believe that someone so important to Lady Athena could be forgotten, but as long as tales like Teiresias’ were retold, every special person’s existence, no matter how small, would cross the listener’s minds once more. There was comfort in that knowledge, the certainty that some of us would be forever preserved in the words of songs, the constellations of the stars and even the minds of the gods.

“Incidentally, the other version of Teiresias tale involves snakes, a bet between Zeus and his wife Hera, as well as a miraculous change from man to woman.”

“What?”

“It is as I said at the beginning, there are as many variations of the common myths as there are men willing to tell them.”

“You’re making fun of me, right?”

“Haha, there is so much I could tell you about the past that would make you doubt me even more.” He did not deny it, but he seemed far too sincere to be teasing me. “Have you cheered up a little?” He added quickly.

My face must have turned a different shade as I felt heat envelope it. The shame of having to be encouraged and spoiled like a child was immense to me, even if to most I was no different from exactly that. A helpless child.

“Th-Thank you.” It was barely more than a whisper, but I was sure he heard me.

“If I could be of any help then I am glad that we were fated to meet today. Words are cheap, but having someone listen to them - that is invaluable.”

Even now I believe that I heard him speak the deepest desires of my heart as if he was a Muse, drawing upon the inspiration of humans around with divine appeal. To be heard was all that I ever asked for, but the temple had taught me that silence was a far greater virtue. The stoic bastion of faith that I was thrown into had been rejecting me, but neither of us was able to let go.

I really was no more than a child back then, constantly astray and as flimsy as the summer’s breeze. The time I would spend in Athens learning from great minds like the grand priestess and Typhos gave me the convictions that I could have never found wasting away in Dankana. On that day I felt pride for the simple task of delivering a letter. That is where it started.

“It is about time for me to return to my research.” Typhos spoke up while pushing a hand through his well-kempt hair. I could basically hear its smoothness. “Thank you once again for your delivery, I hope we will meet soon again-”

“Typhos!”

A shout interrupted the young scholar in the midst of our goodbyes. I instinctively pushed myself behind the tree in fear of the loud huffing that came our way.

“Great mentor Eukleides, how good for our paths to cross again so soon.” His voice was filled with the appropriate respect, so different from the time they had clashed in debate before.

“Spare me the pleasantries and tell your guard dogs to back off. I have no intention of being associated with such scoundrels.” He crossed his arms and hung over the young man like an angry storm cloud.

“I assure you Eukleides, my associates are no scoundrels. They are entirely sympathetic men who are greatly worried for my safety. Who am I to refuse their kind vigil in these turbulent times?” He was not much affected by the aggressive approach.

I tightly held onto the tree for support as I tried my best to follow their conversation. I had no idea what men they were talking about. I had not perceived anyone around us. It was completely quiet apart from the rushing water of the river nearby.

“You are slick with your words, but you lack common sense. The influence of your disaster of a master no doubt.” He exhaled his anger and put a hand to his hip. “I had little to lose in your little performance up there, but it is humiliating to be made the fool in a debate. You were treading dangerously close to blasphemy, boy. You are fortunate that the people enjoy a clash of strongly opposed stances enough to take it as entertainment.”

“We all could use a little joy where we can find it. We both know that the more intriguing the battle, the more it will be remembered. The people respect your views and so do I, which makes it all the more memorable when you give someone of my standing the time on stage sharing your presence.”

“I do not like being used. Remember that.” He clicked his tongue and then stretched out his hand. “Now for my payment.”

“Yes, of course. I have just received it.” He took the piece of parchment from his belt and handed it to the old scholar. “I must admit, coin would have been far easier to acquire.”

“Coin is meaningless without the right market to spend it.” Eukleides responded absentmindedly as he read the contents of the parchment. “How you have such good connections with the temple of Athena will be a mystery for generations to come. You may lose some support for your blasphemic ideas soon.” He rolled up the parchment, seemingly satisfied.

“Do not worry for me. Akacia already throws me a baleful gaze during our every greeting, so my standing cannot be lowered much.” There must have been a grin curling up his face as the old scholar huffed in response.

“Courting a priestess is a crime, boy.”

“You got me all wrong. Akacia is an old friend, but we share no such feelings for each other. I have never even heard rumors of her having an eye for any man.”

“A virtuous woman like her is naturally celibate and devoted only to her mistress. It is reassuring to know that all is right with the world.” There was a needle of sarcasm in his voice. He pushed the parchment into the folds of his himation and then stroked his beard.

“To deny love is a virtue only for those who have none to spare.” The younger scholar replied a little dryly.

“Much like time. And we are both busy men.” Eukleides gave his first hoarse chuckle. “A word of advice to the young: It is not to your benefit to become exactly like your mentors. Take only what is most valuable from them and add on to it with ideas of your own.”

“I am aware of my legacy.” Typhos spoke with unexpected grit. Then he threw up his hands cheerfully as if that moment of tension had never happened. “And I know your value as well, so I will take it to heart, great mentor. Now then, I wish you safe travels. The journey to Thebes has become more perilous as of late I heard. Bad weather, bandits and whatnot.”

“What exactly do you know?” The old man scrunched his nose, but then he relented and just walked off.

When I could no longer perceive his footsteps I finally felt relief and slid down the tree’s rough bark. I hadn’t even noticed that I held my breath for a long time. Typhos lend me a hand and pulled me back to my feet.

“Apologies, our kind can be a tad impatient and confrontational. You must have been anxious.” He lightly joked about the oddity of his fellow scholars.

“No, it’s fine.” I nearly swallowed my words. On that day I had met several scary men, so Typhos youthful hand holding me up was quite the relief.

“If you wish I can escort you to the Akropolis at least. It has gotten rather dark.”

I had not been aware of it except for the lightest shift in cold around us.

“I don’t mind the dark.” I mumbled. Of course to me the fading light made no difference, but being escorted sounded embarrassing.

“Be careful that it does not mind you either. All manner of beasts may lurk in the shadows.”

“What?”

“Do not mind my jests. Return to your sisters with a heart empty of fear, for I am sure you are protected by your goddess.” His words really did cheer me up so easily. “And some earthbound protection from me will not harm the odds.” He added so quietly that even I barely made it out. His words did not make sense to me, but I was too shy to ask. The gesture he made afterwards also was hard to interpret from just listening to the movement. I could have sworn someone’s sandals moved from far away.

“I-Is there anything I should tell Lady Akacia when I return to the temple?”

“Thank her for her cooperation.” He turned around and shook some dirt off his sandals as he got ready to leave. “Ah, and please tell her that he is doing well.”

“He?”

“Indeed. Let us meet again!”

No elaboration followed as we parted ways. I was left behind, confused, but also glad that my mission was almost completed. The message about some mysterious man made me think back to the prior exchange about love and Lady Akacia’s devotion. Had I heard too much? My childlike mind thought up all kinds of tall tales involving a secret romance and nightly letter exchanges.

I was completely wrong as I would find out when I asked too many question a long while later. At least Lady Akacia made sure that I would understand that with many weeks of scrubbing the floors of the living quarters.

Eugenia suddenly laughed at her not so distant memories. Despite everything she had retold, the memory of getting punished by a snappy Akacia for insinuating she held love in her heart for another person was what managed to lift her spirits the most. The owl she had been talking to for so long hooted in disapproval.

“I was later told by priestess Hortensia that she had never seen the grand priestess’ face so flush.” She giggled for a while longer before settling back down on the dirty ground and playing with the loose root in her hand.

Athenai pecked her hand a few times until she finally let go. Apparently the avian companion was not happy with her gardening work.

“I miss Athens sometimes.” She admitted with a melancholy expression. “Don’t tell Lady Medusa I said that please. Let’s keep it a secret, alright?” She put a dirty finger to her lips and smiled at the owl. The animal’s silvery eyes dulled in response and then glanced back towards the Greenhouse’s entrance.

Bringing up the Lady of the isle had pulled the girl back into the present and her current problems. Speaking about Typhos and her old life had given her both pain and relief, but she knew that it was meaningless to share all of that burden with the poor owl. In truth she did it only for herself. By remembering the many times that she had met Typhos in the city of wisdom under the watchful eyes of her mistress she had reaffirmed in her heart what she had always believed.

“I want to believe in Typhos. He did not just abandon me, there must have been a reason.” She said firmly. “Even if we never meet again, I know he is out there following his beliefs too.”

And so she decided to do the same. Her beliefs were shaken many times since she had arrived on Sarpedon, but that was what helped her understand the world better. She kept the values of her religion and the wisdoms of her teachers, but she also gained some ideas of her own. Medusa had added so many new values to her heart that she finally felt like she had changed. She was no longer that child who hid away from the cruel words of others.

“Right.” She wiped her hands on a rag and then got up. She had wallowed in self-pity long enough. It was time to find the one who had decided to hide from her now. “Time to find Lady Me-” She stepped out of the large door and into the sun filled dry island air only to trip over something on the ground. “Bwagh!”And landed face down.

The long rope like thing that had tripped her suddenly curled itself up in circular motions and Eugenia’s heart nearly stopped when she felt the cursed eyes on the back of her head. The Gorgon stood leaning against the wall next to the entrance. The priestess’ heart was frozen. The one she sought out was already with her, but that was not how she had wanted it to happen.

Because if she was here, that would have meant…

“You speak fondly of those who have no such affection for you.” The Gorgon spoke coldly.

“You overheard us?” Eugenia pressed out quietly as she wiped sand from her arms.

“Neither humans nor your goddess came to save you. How can you still believe in them?” Medusa spoke up with a furious glare. “Yours is the adoration of an abandoned child that got fed by strangers with ill intentions. You repeat the same mistake endlessly until there is nothing left of you.”

“What do you know about me?!” Eugenia suddenly bit her lip and frowned.

“All that matters.” The tall woman replied with narrowed eyes.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you about Typhos. You wouldn’t understand, because you are full of hate!” Eugenia’s head was lowered and she clung to her own chiton with both hands. She regretted her words immediately. “I wanted you to understand me. But how could I explain anything if you don’t want to open up to me?”

Everything repeated again. Eugenia’s emotions spiraled out of control, she said hurtful things to Medusa and then would get her heart shattered in return. Why could she not understand the priestess’ thoughts? Why did she have to be so stubborn?

In a moment of distraction she was quickly tied up by the long snake tail. For a frail girl like her it was impossible to struggle free.

“You are my prisoner. That is the only fate you hold now.” She hissed.

Eugenia’s eyes teared up.

“Is that the only way I can be useful to you? Is that all you want from me?”

The snake woman’s eyes widened in shock. The Gorgon’s tight grip on the girl’s torso slackened and she slipped out.

“Leave.” Medusa spoke with strain in her voice and eyes. She could not bear it, that expression on the human’s face.

“Where could I go?” Eugenia replied with a forlorn look as behind her the dry wind picked up clouds of dust and sand on the small secluded island.

There was nothing Medusa could say in response while the two of them stood below the half-crumbled roof of the old temple.

She had completely failed at everything she had set out to do. Instead of reconciling with the human she had made things worse yet again. Instead of gaining information about the previous expedition she had overheard just how foolish a life the girl had lived. Finally, rather than say the words she truly wanted to say, she had lashed out at the priestess once more.

With an angry swishing the Gorgon’s long tail cleaved through one of the many stone statues of enemies past. The statue’s torso fell over and the entire body crumbled to dust. This violent outburst did not dampen the heat of her mind at all.

Who was she to get angry over a mere human’s cycle of mistakes, when she herself, mighty monster, could not get her act together? To destroy and erase all her enemies was far easier than the burden she had now started to carry at the depth of her heart of stone. The lightest crack created the worst fissures.

Medusa leaned against a pillar and exhaled her tension. The low sound of fluttering wings had caught her attention and she had no intention of being seen in such a pathetic state.

The owl landed on another statue’s shoulder and glared towards the sandy beach. It did not speak, for owls were incapable of such. Yet the silvery eyes behind the creature were undoubtedly present.

“You seem just as unhappy as the girl.” Medusa spoke first. She had no desire for conversation with this woman, but for a while now she had been in a horrible mood because of the swelling regret behind her eyes. A regret that was not her own.

“I could never be reduced to a state so pathetic as yours.” The voice that was not verbalized echoed inside the Gorgon’s mind.

“Was it something the girl said?” Medusa cut through the deflection right away.

“Our connection is regrettable.” The owl twisted its head in displeasure. “Eugenia spoke of many things, however, none concern you.”

“I once met a nymph that carried the same name. Chariklo.” Medusa said as her claw traced the bumps of the pillar left of her. The carvings were too faded to be identified by now.

Instantly the air cooled down to the point where water would have turned to ice. The sun seemed a few shades darker than before. Even the Gorgon felt a shiver down her spine.

Now she knew that her guess had been correct.

“You do not deserve to speak her name.” There was genuine anger in that echoing voice.

“What happened to her? What happened to your Chari-?”

“Silence I said!”

With a painful crash Medusa fell over the stone rail and into the courtyard beyond. Her entire body had turned as heavy as stone for but an instant. She had been unable to do anything in response to the overwhelming force that crushed her soul. Her whole body tingled and her eyes had turned entirely snake like. The curse was tearing into her like a rabid beast.

But despite the pain and loss of control, the Gorgon sneered. She had managed to hurt Athena! If not physically, then mentally. It had gotten so far that she broke her vow of noninterference, if only for the blink of an eye.

“You… still grief…” Medusa pressed out from her numb lips. “I never thought you would care for another.”

The owl’s head was hidden behind the painfully distorted face of the statue it sat on. Whatever was going on within its possessed mind was unclear, but the sensation of sadness emanating from their connection was overwhelming.

“You do know nothing, pitiful snake. You will know nothing until your excruciating and deserved end.” And with that the owl flew off into the red corners of the endless horizon. She would not leave for good, there was nothing more binding than the vow of a goddess. The silvery eyes could not turn away until their bet was settled.

Once again the snake was alone, crawling the dirt. Misery begets misery. With revenge the method and reward were the same. The Gorgon pushed herself onto her back and stared at the blood red sky. If she listened carefully she could hear the distant drums of fate encroaching on this cage of regrets.

The words of the priestess still rang in her mind. Words she had copied from a certain scholar.

‘To deny love is a virtue only for those who have none to spare.’

The echoes of the past reverberated in the present and would clash with the impending force of the future.