Frozen flowers bloomed on the charred skin and scales, like the fields of the mourning plains not too far below in the depth of the Underworld. A sheen of icy death that enveloped the chained woman in a suffocating prison.

No room to move.

No hole to breathe.

No skin to feel.

No eyes to see.

The maltreated body of the Gorgon was hung up between the boundary of the worlds in a show of nature’s cruel force. The storm like gusts from below wished to toss her about, eventually causing her body to shatter against the endless walls of the pit. This freezing death encroached subtly, maliciously, covering the lowest end of the snake like tail and wandering up to her chest and face, clawing at her in its abusive embrace.

Soon enough the flaming heat of the sun’s remnants flared up again, melting the icy shadow and tearing the blackened skin below with the cracking of flesh.

The Gorgon’s body was stuck in this endless cycle of torment for so many days that she had lost count. As her frozen eyes melted and painfully regenerated once again she was made aware of her surroundings by searing light that assailed her unprepared mind. Every scale, every finger’s length of her body was in torturous pain. It was like nothing she had ever experienced and it would have broken any lesser being long ago.

But death and rebirth in the flames and frost were not the only source of torment. Not even the forces of nature itself could break her will, so something else kept screwing its thorny presence into her weakened soul.

Silvery eyes penetrated the world beyond the flames and enveloped the Gorgon’s heart and mind. They prodded, stabbed, scraped and smashed into her feeble defenses, fully intent on breaking her. That woman’s ferocious overwhelming will was cracking her like a crab’s hardened shell.

Athena’s vigil had been relentless and a permanent companion. She was the warden and the torture master in all their facets. This boring gaze, this hatred that sweltered in the same intensity as the fire of the sun itself, what did it try to pry out of the broken vessel before it?

The Gorgon had held up far better than the goddess had anticipated, never once breaking down, not begging for forgiveness or lamenting her fate. Something deep inside the monster had hardened to the punishment. Something else had softened its blow.

Beyond the unrecognizable mass of flesh that was once a face, further yet behind the squishy mass of the inner skull, in the depth of her soul the memories swirled like a barrier. All the essence of that thing that called itself Medusa were spinning and dancing in defiance of it all. The suffering found its match only here.

Divine eyes could break the shields of the mind, but they could not discern everything. She could see, but not select. She could read, but not turn the page. If she wanted to find what she sought out there would be many failed attempts. Over and over the surface of the memories was penetrated and left waves and echoes in the goddess senses. Events of the past brushed over her mind that shone like a beacon inside the storm.

Deeper, further in the past, somewhere it would wait for her. That memory. Their oldest connection. Before the curse, before the day the goddess and the Gorgon had become enemies. Something that had only ever held meaning for one of them, yet would define both their lives inextricably.

The Gorgon was in a deep-seated state of pain and numbness, both physical and mental, so she could not have known of this invasion into her past. And even if she did, what would she have cared at this point? So little of herself was left that the fragments were like distant calls of her name in the endless sea…

The rushing waters of an ancient river dug their way through the curves with deafening force. None of the animals in the nearby forest could be heard as the stream roared forward up to the not so distant waterfall. Frothing white like a rabid fox. Cold and restless.

And from that unstoppable current rose something. Someone. A woman. Her glistening body was pale and nude, her long flowing hair stuck to her immaculate skin like the intricate web of a spider. Even as she pulled herself out of the relentless river, she seemed not the least bit affected by the force that tore at her legs.

Her sharp eyes glanced towards the edge of the forest as if seeking something out. Every casual step through the raging waters was making her body sway, but her head was completely still. The crunching of her feet on finely spread pebbles seemed to echo through the loud waves.

When her toes finally reached solid ground she stopped and inhaled deeply, taking in the clear forest air. Her connection to the waters behind could not be cut so easily, so she still felt protected by her element. The oppressive glares from beyond the trees and brushes did seem to be aware of this as well. The tight bowstrings were still armed with arrows, but they would not be drawn. For now.

“I am Medusa, daughter of Phorcys and Ceto. I request passage through these woods.” Her booming voice echoed through the dark foliage and reached the guards of the sleepy forest with ease. The thunderous river had quietened down by pure magic and left an eerie quiet behind.

The guardians kept the woman in their sights and made quiet exchanges. Perhaps they had heard of the sea deities she called her parents, maybe they did not. What they could tell with absolute certainty now was that divine blood had entered their territory. The sound of hooves grinding through hardened dirt made her move her eyes to the corner of her vision. She did not even honor the approaching person by turning her head.

“You are not welcome here child of the sea.” A hardened silver maned centaur spoke with a gruff voice. One of his eyes was white from a deep reaching scar. He must have been the oldest of the present guardians.

“Your welcome is unnecessary. I do not require hospitality, only passage.” Medusa retorted, unimpressed.

“What matters would someone like you have on Mount Helicon?” He grinded his hind hooves against the river pebbles, creating a dissonant noise.

“I am merely passing through. My destination is the temple of Apollo.”

“You wish to speak to Lord Apollo?” His voice was dripping with doubt and he shook his long bearded head like a stallion would when upset.

“I have no business with your little hermit. They say there flows a magic spring from the grounds of that so called ‘great temple’, which grants inspiration for poetry and song. That’s all I care for.” She finally turned her head to the side to give him a deprecating look.

“Your tongue is sharp and split like a snake’s. Those who mock The Twelve will be granted no passage here.” He picked the bow from his back and held it threateningly. In response all the shadows were suddenly sporting gleaming arrows as well.

“I heard of stubborn mules often enough, but it seems a horse is no better than its long-eared brother.” She was not perturbed by the hostility and simply raised one hand. The river behind her suddenly sprung up like a monstrous beast and bared its sharp white fangs to the group of hostile centaurs. “Even the wildest stallion cannot resist the flow of the great river. For as long as your kind needs to fill their lungs with air you stand no chance against me. Let me pass or else.” Gone was her polite request and quickly replaced with a commanding tone.

The threats had been exchanged and only the loosened hand on a bowstring was needed to unleash death on this hallow ground. The agitated men were not going to back down despite their inferior position and the naked woman had no qualms with drowning those in her way.

“Please wait, brave guardians!”

They all turned their heads towards the feminine voice calling from beyond the dark woods. It echoed within and revealed a light green clearing full of lush grass and radiant flowers. Within that shining space stood another woman, her body covered by hair like vines. She glowed in a tinge of green and blue that seemed to reflect the flowers around her.

“A nymph?” Medusa said under her breath as she watched the fragile creature hold up her hands to stop their conflict.

“This is none of your concern, child. Leave the protection of the forest to us.” The old leader of the centaurs nearly whinnied when he saw her approach.

“She said she wishes to visit our magic spring, so let me guide her there!” The nymph requested.

“What?” The centaur seemed displeased by the mere suggestion.

“Neither Lord Apollo nor anyone else wishes for bloodshed in these peaceful woods. The spring is open to any who wish to visit it, be they god, human or other.” She insisted and stepped out of her magical clearing which promptly vanished from sight. “Please let me watch over her and then guide her back outside so we may part peacefully.”

Medusa crossed her arms and watched their heated exchange. The torrential water beast behind her was slowly sinking away as it lost the bloodlust it had been summoned from.

“Your kindness is a weakness, child.” The old centaur grumbled. “But if you were to offer her your hospitality we may step aside.” He saw the nymph’s eyes light up and immediately added “Remember, however, that she is your responsibility. One false step and you will answer to our Lord!”

And with those heavy words the guardians galloped away, somehow not making any noise inside the thick underbrush they vanished into. No human would have been able to track these proud warriors or notice their ever watchful eyes.

As they were left alone now, the nymph hesitantly walked closer to the river and stopped near Medusa. The two women could not have been more different, the exception being their incredible beauty. Where Medusa stood tall and confident, the nymph was somewhat childlike and nervous.

“Well? Lead the way.” Medusa spoke curtly and waved towards the forest.

“Yes!” The nymph straightened her back and quickly moved ahead of her. Her steps were as light as the air that brushed over the leaves. In comparison Medusa’s feet squashed the plants and sank into he muddy ground with loud noises. It was slightly aggravating to her, but it could not be helped, she was a sea deity, not a woodland spirit.

They moved quietly, not able to overcome the suffocating silence between them. The young nymph seemed focused on searching for the right path, while Medusa tried to make sense of the odd smells surrounding her. Until now she had traveled via the river inland, but the comfort of the waters was quickly vanishing behind. Now she was in unknown territory with only the underground reservoirs giving her a sense for the land’s pulsing veins.

The nymph suddenly knelt down and raised her shapely butt before the one she was meant to guide. Medusa raised a brow and crossed her arms below her bosom. This unannounced interruption was doing nothing to improve her mood.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat to get the fumbling girl’s attention.

“Hm? Oh, sorry sorry!” She hastily jumped up and looked back at Medusa. In her arms she held a dilapidated bird’s nest. There were eggs nestled inside, but half of them had been cracked open by the likely fall. “These poor children were just too pitiful. Let me bring them home quickly.” With unnatural ease she walked up the tree and put the bird’s nest into place, much more secure than it had been before the fall. The broken eggs were inside her hand and she threw them towards expectant forest animals who quickly slobbered up the tasty treat.

Afterwards the nymph jumped back onto the leaf covered earth and nodded towards their destination. This little stop repeated a few times in different constellations. It was like the girl could not stop herself from meddling with the forest life. For the sea deity it was unnatural to be this concerned with vegetation and the wiles of the forest. Deep down in the darkest depth every life was struggling for survival. Up here it was all but an organized cycle.

To Medusa’s displeasure this delayed their journey unduly. When the nymph stopped once more to loosen the trap around a young fox’s hind leg she lost her patience.

“I am your charge for this journey, not these beasts. Did you forget your task, absentminded child?” She pushed her arm against the tree and cornered the girl holding the fox like her dear offspring.

“My apologies.” The nymph looked a little glum as she hugged the frightened fox. “This forest and its children are my responsibility. When they suffer I feel the same.” It was no justification for her acts, merely the truth behind them.

“You are a nymph, not a servant of these critters. Act like it.” She tapped the girl’s forehead forcefully and then raised her chin to urge her to move on.

The girl put down the fox and brushed off its injured leg. In an instant the earthen furred animal was standing steady and ran off. The miraculous recovery was a simple parting gift. Then she closed her eyes, listened to the beating heart of the forest and pointed in a direction.

“The spring of Hippocrene is over there.”

“Very well.”

They walked towards the rushing sound of water and instantly Medusa felt the overwhelming aroma of the sparkling spring in her veins. This was a feeling sublimely different from the turgid force of the ocean or the relentless force of a river. It nearly sang inside her head!

“Here we are.” The nymph pulled aside a large branch and then held out her hand towards the glistening spring. A smile sprouted on her face when she noticed Medusa’s shining eyes. “I rest in here from time to time to let the blessings wash away my worries.”

“This is more than I could have hoped for.” Medusa put her foot towards the glowing waters that reflected the incandescent sun and instantly her muddy feet were cleansed. “Let us partake in it together.” She felt full of cheer and slid into the waters without hesitation.

“Hahaha.” The nymph seemed delighted as well and let her hair float across the serene water.

“Tell me your name, forest child.” She demanded with her back leaned against the sun heated stones.

“I am Chariklo. The forests of Mount Helicon are my domain, but I am still new to this duty.” She introduced herself shyly.

“You do act like a newborn fawn.” She nodded tranquilly. The singing waters relaxed her tired mind with pleasant melodies. “Which god do you serve?”

“I do not know.”

“What?” She opened one of her eyes and looked at her with curiosity.

“This is the territory of Lord Apollo, but I have never met him. After I was born I became part of this forest.” She recalled vaguely. “Then I met her.” Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“A goddess?”

“Yes. Her name is Athena. She is the kindest person in the entire world.” Chariklo spoke with reverence, but also something else. Something deeper.

Medusa was all too familiar with the name. She knew all the Olympians, though she had only met a few. The one called Athena was particularly famous, although not quite for her kind personality. A goddess of so-called wisdom, but mostly one of war. Such a tender child could perhaps not tell the depth of that woman’s true nature.

“Then why do you not serve her?” It was just a mindless suggestion, but unbeknownst to Medusa, it was the crux of the girl’s entire life.

“I wish nothing more!” She raised her hands and splashed water across the air. She slowly lowered her hands and her green eyes turned a darker shade of emerald. “But there is nothing I can give her. These forests are all I know. But she is so wise and quick-witted and funny and…” She put her face into her hands and sighed.

“At least your infatuation is on par for a goddess.” Medusa smirked.

“Ohh… please do not mock me.” She muttered full of shame.

“I cannot comprehend why anyone would wish to serve the gods, much less how someone could fancy one of them. Your position is not equal, so how could she respond to your feelings?”

Of course she had no stake in this and her understanding of love was that of a passionless scholar at most. But when she entered these springs and felt their magic… inspiration took many forms. For just the duration of this bath she let her mind wander. As the pleasant sound of bubbling liquid played with her ears she felt compelled to listen to the nymph’s deepest wants.

Everyone had something they wanted, something they pursued with their heart, rather than their minds. Those wants and desires were what defined every person in this world ruled by greedy gods. Emotional gods. Flawed gods. The difference between a deity and a mortal may just have been how well the flaws could hold their essence together.

“I understand that. I do know it so well. What I feel for Athena will never be reflected in her eyes, none of my thoughts will reach her mind. Seasons pass and return, but I can only think of her smile. I already realized that I am masterless not because I am lost.” Her hair like lush vines was falling into the depth of the spring and melting the nymph with its magical properties. The poet’s lament was a known affliction and it took root in her quickly.

“Foolish.”

“Pardon?”

“I have no mind for things such as love for another. My progenitors threw me into the ocean’s brisk currents without a thought. My siblings raid each other’s territories in endless war games. Even your precious Olympians would strike me down given the chance.” Medusa had closed her eyes and let the memories pass her by. Each picture was a lesson. “Foolishness is within all of us. It makes us act out irrationally, it gives way to cowardice and failure. I vowed never to become the fool, to stand strong and proud with my choices.”

Chariklo’s gaze was stuck to the beautiful woman like she was watching her very first sunrise. The roots were shaking. A storm had come to pull out even the trees. She swallowed when Medusa opened her eyes.

“Remember this: Indecision is no better than becoming the fool. A jester to time and the wills of others. Inaction is solely for the spectators who have no influence on the world. If there is something you desire within reach of your hands then grasp it firmly!”

“But what of the consequences?” The nymph whispered.

“Take them with you as lessons. A scar is a reminder of failure, but also a teacher for betterment. Scars are mistakes against which your body persevered. If you do not choose, your soul will merely die a slow scarless death. Take the risk and you will either gain something or learn something.” She stopped her impassioned word flow and put a hand to her raised knee. This was the most she had spoken in nearly a decade. The most emotion she had put into conveying her mind’s melody. These springs were truly as impressive as the legends told.

The two women bathed in silence for a long time afterwards. Medusa did not consider her speech encouraging, but rather a blunt criticism of what she had seen in this foolish world. Whether the forest child could make sense of her worldview or not was of little importance now.

“You are somewhat like her. You both have a way with words.” Chariklo said with a mysterious smile curling up her lips.

Medusa pretended not to have heard such an insulting claim. She continued embracing the deep heartbeat of the blessed spring long after the nymph left her behind. The last glimpse of the spirited girl’s eyes had given her a good idea of where her contemplations would lead her.

Still, to leave her ‘responsibility’ unattended in her forest was demonstrating her youthful single-mindedness. It brought even a stoic being like Medusa some long needed mirth.

The water reflected her own face and the smile that she had never grown to understand. A distant expression that barely resembled her anymore. The silvery eyes rippled through time and space and distorted her visage.

The burned flesh of a corpse. The inevitable future of her choices. The scars of lessons not yet learned…

Her lungs took breath once more.

Defying death, escaping Thanatos grinding butchering sword, the Gorgon returned to the torture of her body. Her broken mind and soul had barely mended, but they could only appear fortunate compared to her brutalized flesh. The unbroken chains that kept her suspended showed nary a crack, unlike every fiber of her muscles. The bloody skin had no time to become slippery enough to allow her body to fall through their grip, as the freezing cold of Tartaros glued her to them soon again.

The smile of rebellion from so many days ago had vanished. The Gorgon was a husk, no more alive than the flames that greedily licked the walls of the hole between worlds. They burned so bright, but they had no life of their own. Only consuming the world around them would keep them spreading. In the same way this pitiful prisoner was only alive due to the will of another. She consumed those memories and had lived them a hundred, no a thousand times. Eventually even those dearest memories would be burned away.

But there was something else… she had not intended to remember that meeting in the springs so long ago… Those memories were hers, but they were not the ones she clung to. Something had dug into her soul and pulled them out.

In an unconscious effort the Gorgon’s white eyes regenerated and regained their tacit sight. Silver met silver in a clash of souls and once again the walls were broken.

The eyes of that woman had seen what she had seen. Their eyes were the same. The same. The same the same the same…

Her body convulsed and she spat out hot seething blood from her very core. As if her intestines were melting, filled with the lifeblood of the fire spewing mountains, she kept coughing up everything. What shook her pained body soon revealed something revolting to her. A link between them.

If their eyes aligned, so would their minds. If their minds aligned, so would the pain. Her watcher and tormentor was taking the pain without flinching, without a single shred of doubt in her silvery eyes. It was vexing how unequal they were. In that one moment the Gorgon desired only to take from that being as much as it took from her. If only a smidgen of her suffering could be returned she would consider it a victory of the ages. The last spark of rebellion in a proud creature rammed its fangs into the walls between them and tore them down.

Unexpected, inexplicable, irredeemable.

The words suffocated her soul as it did the unthinkable and reverted the flow of memories.

What was once a crushing stream now became a vortex and…

The setting sun was blinding. Red fringes across the horizon seared into her retinas and left marks in her vision. This red was spreading further and further until it cloaked her entire world. This pain was so endless that it threatened to break her mind alongside her beating heart. Was it anger? No, not such a vibrant color. The muted red was seeping out of an invisible wound in her very world.

Her numb ears heard the rustling of the trees around her. The whispers of spirits in agony. This orchard had once been a wellspring of life, but now it lost its colors and was swallowed by the endless red. Was there anything that could resist such painful lament?

She lowered her head, twisting it away from the scenery that faded from her memory. Nothing mattered anymore.

Emeralds sparkled within the deep red. Two shining gems that could not be corrupted. The eyes of one who could not be tamed by even her. Naturally not even this painful sunset would dye them red.

“Can you hear them?” The woman spoke from below. “The sparrows are speaking about the coming spring.”

She kept her eyes focused on the pale face that was resting on her lap. No matter what she said or tried to distract her with, she could only look at her.

“I care not.” The words coming from her mouth were pained, bitter. The complete opposite of the soft spoken woman on the ground.

“Do not say that. They are precious.” The woman muttered with a strained smile. “They think of their children’s future.”

It was no different from being impaled by a dagger. Her gut was cut open and her mind urged her to shut off all feeling in her limbs. But she could not show weakness, not now.

“I always wanted to be a good mother. I knew how that made you feel, but I could not help it. My selfish heart goes against my orders too. If I could stop its beat to spare yours the pain I would have done it long ago…”

“No more.” She clutched the woman’s head between her hands to steady her and stabilize her in this moment, this very world. Her fingers vibrated imperceptibly as she was unable to completely suppress the shaking. “I do not wish to hear you say such things before me.”

“Right… it is a bit unfair. For that, too, I am sorry. Serving you was the only wish I should have ever harbored. Your happiness was all I longed for.” The deep emerald eyes were focused only on her face. Nothing else in the world, only her. And then… “Until there was another.”

The world shook around them. Earthquakes tore apart the orchard, flames spewed from the heavens and the sparrows chirped their last as they got torn apart by evil winds.

The vision disappeared as quickly as it had come. The world was still whole. Only in her mind was it close to its doom.

“Athena, do you hate me?” She asked with feigned courage.

“I told you so long ago, my dearest.” She caressed the cold cheek of the woman on her lap. A shaking, fragile, unbearably weak motion that should have ended in a heartbeat, but was kept up by her steeled mind alone. “You could never anger me. Never will I hate you, never spurn you. Do not take my words so lightly.”

“I am glad. Your lessons are always with me, I swear.” The woman spoke with a renewed smile.

“Then why would you-!” For the first time she had lost control and was about to say something she could not take back. Her hardened mind could not contain her weeping soul.

“Oh Athena… I know. I know better than anyone.” The smile had turned so very ashamed. “But he was my son. I failed him as I have failed you. I also loved him as I love you.”

In the depth of her heart she knew that it was a lie. A gentle lie, an untruth only for her sake. This loving white lie was the last gift for her. A parting gift. The love in those eyes was real, it was undeterred, everlasting.

Only was it surpassed by another.

The fading heartbeat that pulsed inside the beautiful woman was still persisting for a little longer. Every stroke of Athena’s hand kept it in this world. One more. Another.

“I… know what you told me. I know what you want to say. I left the Mountain despite your warnings and I feel shame for my actions. Charon will carry me to the place I deserve… Hades will judge me. I made my peace with that.” She meant every word and that was the worst part. “If only I am allowed to see him one more time. That is all I ask of them.”

“You will. I will make certain of that.” She assured her with shaking breath.

“I do not… deserve your love.” Finally, glistening like translucent gems, the woman shed her tears. “I left Mount Helicon because I could not live with it… my son’s passing was… my fault.”

How could she deny her words? It was easy, logical, the very truth that she had carefully selected. But that was not what she needed. It was not was would give her peace.

The death of Teiresias was inevitable, completely predestined. The fall of Thebes was his downfall, as his fate was one with the city itself. That was the part of their pact that was left unspoken. Nobody could have stopped it, not even her. And yet this mother could not help but mourn her child and blame herself.

“He was poisoned… by the waters far from home.” She continued between sobs. “I pushed him away. He was all alone!”

Athena held on to the grief and accepted it voicelessly. Wave after wave would hit her chin and erode her, but she was like a statue in one of her temples. Persistent, towering and above mortal concerns. That was her role.

“I vowed to stay on the mountain for your sake… And I should not regret it. My shame is so deep… because I do. I regret it so much…” She could not contain her tears, so they flowed unto Athena’s legs.

There was no response. She dared not speak a word. Nothing she could say would help now.

“Just like you said… leaving the mountain cut the ties between it and myself. I knew it would be true, because you taught me.” She turned her head to the side and looked at the olive orchard that was still brimming with life, so different from the mountainous forests. “I finally got to see a little more of the world. This place is beautiful. These trees remind me of… you.”

“This orchard is yours.” Athena spoke solemnly.

“What?”

“Every tree, every leaf, every olive that they bear, they will be like your spirit. Their green is the green of your eyes. Their fruits are like the tears you shed for the sake of your son. May they nourish many children across the centuries.”

One of her hands reluctantly let go of the woman and swiped through the air. Vibrations shook the earth, gently, not at all like the earthquakes from the vision. Soon enough the trees grew stronger, taller and more fertile. The orchard grew and grew until it stretched as far as the plain around them. Soon it could be seen even from the distant port of Piraeus behind them. The red sun was cradled by the arms of healthy trees and gently put to sleep.

“Thank you.” The words were filled with genuine adoration one more time.

“It is not enough. Nothing will ever be.” Athena spoke as her weak heart shattered. The breathing below her had slowed down until it was nearly imperceptible. The soul began to lose its tethers.

“Do not cry. Tears do not befit your regal face.” Chariklo said softly.

“Tears…?” She could not comprehend. The drops of liquid grief that had run down her cheeks could not be real. Her existence was incongruent with such a thing. Was it all just an illusion of the dying?

“Athena, whatever may happen, never blame yourself. You were always right. If everyone listened to you things would be for the best… but mortal hearts cannot bear the burden you carry. We are too frail, far too selfish. Please forgive us. They may blame you, but I know that you are the one who… blames herself the most.”

“I…”

Against all reason and logic the nymph raised her deathly stiffened arm and put her hand to Athena’s clenched cheek.

“I am not like Pallas. I chose this. I chose to hurt you. No mortal thing will last forever, but I will carry it to eternity… my sins… and my love for you.”

The green light faded away. The fickle hand of fate drew away.

Athena clasped the cold hand and did not let go. How could she let go? How could she have allowed fate to spin this tale? All of her wisdom was for nothing! An eternity of thoughts and careful planning - meaningless! Emotions had shaken her to the core, had made her allow this mistake.

It was all meaningless if she could not even keep a single soul at her side.

The red of the world was soon usurped by pure silver. Cold and unfeeling, an armor around the world.

Leave this place.

The Gorgon’s mind reverberated in the corridors of memories not hers. The last words had pushed her out, forced her to retreat and smashed her into her own body. For a moment she had nearly shattered along her mortal coil.

When her sacking body was shaken by the cold wind she regained consciousness again. The freezing temperatures gave the hole an empty aura.

That was not the only cause for that sense of emptiness. The Gorgon’s warden… had left.

Silvery eyes, so steely and hateful, not to be seen. The punishment would not end. Not until the last bit of life was drained from the monster at its core.

But just for a moment, in this endlessly perplexing moment, the Gorgon had won. The struggle was at an end and only pain was left for the both of them. But this time Medusa could not smile triumphantly. The thing that kept her tethered to this world was still out there and that gave her the strength to resist, if but a moment longer.

Eugenia was still out there.

That was the truth she could depend on. That was all she needed. Even should she soon fade away, that knowledge sated her regrets.

Then what of the silvery eyes? What were they really looking for?

Did it even exist?