Medusa awoke abruptly inside her lair. Her head shot up and the snakes drowsily undulated down her neck in confusion. She didn’t pay them any mind and looked around. The animal skins and furs that had been laid out over the warm stone floor were empty. She was the only one inside this darkness.

In just a moment her mental state had switched between deep slumber and complete vigilance. After a few moments she slowly lowered her guard and tapped her finger on the ground. Her demeanor was odd, even she realized that.

“What am I doing?” She wondered and got up.

Eugenia had not been next to her when she awoke. She actually had not been inside the lair in a while. All thanks to her new project. She was such a busybody. Medusa yawned and then ascended the tight stairwell up to the surface. The sunlight assailed her from the zenith of the world’s ceiling. It was already this late?

When she was not shaken awake by the girl she tended to oversleep. Was that the correct way to phrase it? She did not have urgency to wake any earlier, yet she felt like she was missing something every moment she stayed dormant.

She slithered through the destroyed temple and took notice of the hares that were jumping through the gaps and holes. It could not be described as anything but an infestation at this point. She cursed the messenger of the gods who had caused this unnatural invasion. These pests were chewing through the dry grass all over the island like they intended to shave it clean.

Which brought her back to the reason Eugenia had been so busy recently. The burnt out ruin of the Greenhouse loomed at the north end of the temple, even worse off than the rest of the rubble. In its corner was a single small area that had survived the fires and grown all the more fertile. This garden was what Eugenia clung to like a lifeline. Indeed, without it she would have ran out of vegetables soon. The resources she had been gifted by her comrades from Athens had all but run out. Just a few months had diminished them this much.

Her eyes traced along the camp at the center of the temple where the boxes and chests were piled up. There was a certain contribution of her own that led to the quick decline, she was very aware. But Eugenia seemed happier to share a meal than to eat by herself. Naturally Medusa needed no sustenance, but there was nothing wrong with enjoying a good meal. It was somewhat of a pity that she would soon be going without food once again. Not that she would openly complain.

Nestled between the ruins and the sea was the garden, surrounded by not just a large fence anymore, but by ample construction. Without trouble Medusa spied the one she sought on top of a small wall that she was building from pieces of stone. The appearance was lamentable but the construction gave off a reliable impression. For a blind woman to build a wall with so few gaps was nothing short of a miracle.

Medusa smirked and approached the construction site. It was a miracle indeed, but she would still judge it for the shoddy construction it was. Eugenia seemed unperturbed by her audience or the constant repairs she had to perform. After a while she wiped some sweat from her forehead and took a rest.

Medusa’s eyes moved around and eventually got stuck to the girl’s glistening neck. She had tied her long hair into a ponytail so it would not get in the way of her work. Sweat was pearling down her fair skin…

“Medusa?”

“Hm?” She jerked out of her trance and crossed her arms.

“I didn’t notice you, sorry. How long have you been standing there?” She rolled down her dirty sleeves and jumped off the wooden support she had been standing on.

“Not awfully long.”

“You should have said something.” She giggled.

“You seemed engrossed in your work.” Medusa averted her eyes.

“I am making good progress, don’t you think? Walls on all sides, plenty of blockades inside the earth so the little ones can’t dig their way inside and I even managed to find some intact wooden beams. If you have time could you put them up later please?”

“If I must.” She said unenthused and looked at the pile of wood close-by.

“If I had a crane or something similar I may have been able to do it on my own, but even Zosimos didn’t manage to put that into my luggage.” She said humorously.

“Another human plaything?”

“Huh? O-oh, of course you would not know about it. A crane is… er, it is like a really big wooden arm that holds ropes.” She tried to visualize it with her own arm and made herself look rather foolish. “Then you tie them around the rocks or beams like so…” She grabbed Medusa’s arms and pretended to wrap a rope around it.

The Gorgon stiffened up and her eyes turned into slits. Eugenia’s hands were on her arm and rubbing against it. She could feel the pulsing of her veins and the tenderness of her skin. The girl had no qualms in holding onto her.

Medusa roughly pulled her arm away.

“…” Eugenia held up her hands and looked confused.

“Do not…” She had almost blurted it out, but caught herself just in time. “Do not take me for someone so uneducated. I know of such construction methods, I saw them employed in this very temple. I was only unaware of the name.”

“Haha, I didn’t want to hurt your pride.” Eugenia’s expression relaxed and she chuckled.

Medusa felt uneasy… no, it was closer to anxiety. It reminded her of those impulses she felt when she had suspected Eugenia’s feelings for her. But now that they had surfaced and become solid before her, she should have lost the unease of the unknown. Indeed, she should have returned to her uncaring self.

“Sooner will Aphrodite be faithful to her husband before you could hurt my pride, girl. Now tell me where to put your wood.”

She followed the human girl’s lead step by step. Construction was not something the Gorgon had ever bothered with, as the opposite was more her forte. Simply piling up some rocks and sticks would be easy enough, but Eugenia truly wished to make a small building out of this garden. Something that would protect the fragile food even during one of Sarpedon’s rare monstrous storms.

“It is a shame that none of the glass survived.” The blind girl said as she drank from her water skin during a short break.

“Mh.” Medusa nodded curtly. Her mind kept straying as she watched the girl’s throat pulse with each gulp of the clear water.

“Perhaps that is why it was a miracle. If it was replicated too easily it would not be impressive anymore.” She cupped her chin with one hand and philosophized. “I feel that the people here could have shared the method with more cities. How did this craft never spread?”

“It may well have been due to the eradication of this island’s history.” She replied stiffly.

“Oh, that could be it. A shame.” Eugenia crossed her legs and sighed.

Medusa felt strangely angry at that reaction. It was not her fault that woman would go to such lengths. How was it that this foolish human would still take her side?

“Lady Athena always abandons her failures, doesn’t she?” Eugenia said with sympathy.

Medusa was taken aback and did not respond. Her eyes widened and then focused quickly as she tried to control her stray thoughts. She had been overly hasty in judging Eugenia again. They were both victims of that woman. The blind woman’s words carried no malice or judgement towards the Gorgon. Yet she had immediately put up her walls and braced for an attack.

Eugenia stretched her arms and moaned, before getting up.

“We are nearly done, so can I ask you to lend me your strength one more time?”

“Fine.”

They returned to the tedious work, but Medusa was acting more composed. It was unseemly for her to show so much erratic emotion. As the Gorgon heaved up a large beam she was accidentally toppling the remains of a wall, which promptly collapsed against their fresh construction.

“There is a lot.” Eugenia patted the ruins to access just how much debris was around the garden. “If we leave it like this it may all collapse and harm the garden.”

After realizing that the rubble was impeding with their progress she began picking up large pieces of pillars and ceiling and tossed them down the hill. Seeing Eugenia’s shocked expression she reconsidered and carried the pieces downhill slowly. It was a mindless work that could not take her thoughts away, so she struggled to find something to focus on.

She returned uphill and noticed Eugenia hunched over behind a tree. With a raised brow she slithered around the wood and glanced at the girl’s work. She had put a slate on her lap and was carefully carving something into it. With her slow and concentrated movements this little artisanry could take her quite a while.

Medusa was curious, but it seemed unwise to break her concentration right now. Thinking it was best not to show too much interest in the girl’s actions, she returned to her work and put extra force into each push and pull.

Half a day passed in the blink of an eye. Medusa had nearly piled up half the former Greenhouse or at least the unnatural hill of stone and wood gave her that impression. Frankly she had not the imagination to come up with a way in which Eugenia could have achieved this on her own. It was rather ironic that her path to independence was paved by dependence to the Gorgon.

It put a smirk on her lips and she was already determined to point this out to the human. Her reaction would be very entertaining.

Yet when she returned to the garden there was no trace of the girl. Medusa was somewhat indignant that she would just go off while she made the owner of the island work for her. The impudence.

She slithered through the temple ruins and looked into Eugenia’s camp. There was no sign of her around here either. Which would mean she had gone off somewhere further away. There were a handful of possibilities that she could come up with. For a busybody like Eugenia every moment spent relaxing would be a waste, so she was most certainly doing some menial task.

Medusa went into the underground reservoir, but found nothing. She slithered to the cliff, but there was no trace of the human. Finally she decided to return to the lair to perhaps find her sleeping inside with a foolish expression on her small face. Again, no luck.

“You are nothing but trouble.” She grumbled and flew up to the half destroyed roof. She would focus her senses and try to locate the girl no matter what. She could not just disappear like that. If she was not to be found then perhaps something had happened… An outsider? Was there someone Medusa could not perceive? Why would they go after Eugenia?

Her heart became uneasy and she had trouble focusing her senses. It could not be, but doubt was a relentless and unassuming poison. If something had happened to her then it was Medusa’s fault for being so unfocused. The barrier should not fail to warn her, but it was a crutch to only rely on such conveniences. There might well have been a being that could elude her senses. To leave Eugenia out of her sight like that was a shortsighted mistake.

Her claws dug into the brittle stone and rained dust onto the shadow clad ruins.

She had to find her. If she had only been captured between the last two walks she took down the hill they could not have made it far. These thieves would soon regret having crossed the Gorgon!

With a loud flap she spread her wings and rose into the air to oversee the island. First her eyes were attracted to the edge and the waters, to see if someone had anchored with a boat. There was nothing but wreckage from destroyed ships and gentle waves. Nobody had yet managed to escape, so she was turning inwards.

There were a few spots on this cursed island that one could hide at. The underground cave that she had used to hide away Eugenia during the Expedition's attack came to mind. That place was not easily found however, so she had doubts an intruder would go there.

Furiously she cut through the breeze and kept scanning the temple with her sharp eyes. She regretted now that she never studied the map that the cowardly merchant had drawn for Eugenia. Someone who had been here for centuries should have naturally known each rock and blade of grass, but Medusa was not interested in knowing her prison. That was now biting her back after so long.

She descended to pick up the map from Eugenia’s belongings, but as she lowered herself she heard a metallic sound in the distance. Without hesitation she burst into that direction and even toppled over an old pillar in the process, not caring for the damage it would cause. She crashed into the ground near a deep sunken in part of the temple.

“Hmmmmgn!” There a girl huffed and puffed as she tried to pull her hand out of some metallic contraption.

Cursed eyes met milky white ones and both parties recognized each other instantly.

“What buffoonery is this?” Medusa asked dryly and with deep exhaustion.

“Gnnn… why did you have to find me so soon?” The former priestess groaned and turned bright red. Her arm was stuck between the bars of a cage. Her embarrassment for her predicament was exuding her whole body and made her most pitiable.

“You got yourself trapped in a cage made for much larger beasts.” Medusa scoffed.

“T-the gap was smaller than expected. I only wished to reach inside for a moment, but it contracted somehow-!” She hastily retorted, but as she pulled in the process she flinched from pain. Her wrist was truly stuck.

“What was your plan had I not found you?” Medusa raised a brow and watched her squirm.

“My arm will slip out… eventually.” She said stubbornly and kept struggling.

“Is that so? Then you will not mind if I return to the garden ahead of you.” She said with a devilish grin.

“…” Eugenia listened to her slithering departure and grew more desperate. She pushed both her feet against the cage and pulled back with all her might. The force was hurting her wrist and tore the skin, but she suppressed her cries by biting her lower lip. Now that her arm became more slippery from the blood she may have finally been able to get out.

“You run those lips of yours in all manner of ways, insinuating that my pride is fragile.” Medusa stood right behind her and spoke directly into the girl’s ear. “Yet your pride is the most fickle of all.” She easily bent the iron bars apart and caught Eugenia who was falling backwards from the sudden lack of resistance. “You are a weak human. If there is no other method you must rely on those who are strong.”

“Medusa…” She grabbed her hurting wrist and averted her face.

“You already rely on me for other minor tasks, so why do you act so stubborn now?” Medusa grabbed the girl and forced her to turn about. She held up her arm and looked at the bruised wrist. It looked not too severe, but it must have hurt immensely nonetheless.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Eugenia replied meekly.

“Oh? To hear such tones from you after your great and confident speech.” The Gorgon mocked with a half-smile.

Eugenia’s face twisted and she seemed to have realized something. Medusa’s words did not fall on deaf ears.

“You… you are right. I said that I wanted you to understand me.” The shame on her face was not an act. “Medusa, I don’t want to rely on you for things that I can do myself. I owe you too much already. M-maybe I’m too prideful.” She swallowed and forced her meek heart to toughen up. “I was embarrassed for being so clumsy!” She admitted.

Medusa felt a small static shock run through her hand. Perhaps it was just the tension of her wrist as she held on to the girl’s arm, but it was meaningless. To see the self-sufficient and determined girl act so honest and shameful resonated with her inexplicably.

“Honesty suits you well.” She muttered and then put her mouth to the bruised wrist.

“Eeek?!” Eugenia shrieked in surprise as Medusa’s tongue coiled around her torn skin and licked up the red sap of life. “Medusa… no… stop that.” She resisted only weakly as the tongue tickled her skin.

“Your blood is sour.” Medusa concluded as she finished and let go of the small hand.

“I didn’t need to know!” She blurted out with reddened cheeks. She grabbed her wrist that was slightly wet now and wiped it with her clothes. “Huh?” She stopped and moved her hand a bit. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Saliva has a nursing effect, does it now?” Medusa simply brushed it off.

“Not that strong.” She said with a complex expression as she touched her wrist. It was still bruised, but the blood flow had stopped and the pain was numbed. The bruise had not been deep, but still.

“More importantly, what possessed you to play with this old thing?” She pointed towards the cage.

“This hollow wasn’t here before I left the island. A storm must have spilled the mud and earth away. I was just exploring it a bit and found that cage. I have never touched a metal cage before. To use such expensive materials to keep someone contained is weird.”

“Ah that.” Medusa suddenly recollected when taking a closer look. “It is the cage they used for the lion.”

“Truly? Then you weren’t making that up?”

“Rude.” Medusa frowned at the insinuation. “I was not aware it had been left behind either. The beast’s bones have bite marks. It must have torn into its own flesh from madness.” She easily pulled the entire cage out of the dirt and held it up with one arm. The lion’s skeleton was left behind in the sinking earth.

“Poor thing.”

“It ate three of its caretakers.”

“Still.”

Medusa had no pity for the caged beast. It had been outsmarted by humans and been used. That was the fate of the weak.

“I would say we should bury it, but I think you already did that.” Eugenia squatted before the piled earth.

“Indeed.” She shrugged and put down the heavy metal cage.

“Maybe we could use the iron for something later, even if it is rusty. Would you please take it to the camp?” She asked thoughtfully.

“And so we return to your shameless requests.” Medusa sighed, but picked it up easily.

“You said I should rely on you more. Then I will do exactly that…” Eugenia pouted.

“Tsk.” She hastily turned around and jumped up the hollow to reach the top of the hill. She could not show the girl her expression no matter what. In her hurry she nearly forgot that she was dealing with a blind woman.

After setting the cage down near the main camp, Medusa was ready to await Eugenia at the garden, but was surprised to find her sitting down near her tent. She had picked up the Satyr's immaculate lyre and strummed it carefully.

“What has come over you now?” She asked a bit exasperated.

“I just thought of a melody. A hymn for the lion in the cage.” She said filled with something odd. She realized that it was what humans called ‘divine inspiration’. The eyes and ears were overcome by the spirit of Apollo and guided their hands without regards to their own will.

Naturally those tales were empty superstitions, as Apollo was too secluded to come to each human personally. Furthermore he had no influence on this cursed island.

“Can this not wait?”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Eugenia asked in confusion.

“What?”

“We made good progress today. A house is not build in a day as they say.” She smiled and plucked the strings.

“Sounds like some human excuse.” The Gorgon retorted, but folded and settled down on her curled tail.

“Will you listen to my piece?”

“I am merely wary of that goat’s influence on you. He will not dare try anything with my eyes on him.” Her response was matter of fact.

“Kygnos wouldn’t do that. He swore by his master’s name, remember?” Eugenia creased her brows.

“Your trusting nature has gotten you burned before.” The Gorgon’s words were pinpointed like a good spear.

“You never let things go.” Eugenia sighed, but did not let it deter her from playing the lyre. The melody escaping her hands was first awkward, but over time gained true form.

As was tradition a melody told a story, one that would be created by the musician’s hands and the listener’s heart. For a bard in some tavern the melody would accommodate those who escaped their daily troubles and prepare a light tale that could make even a drunkard laugh. Those who wept at the beauty of a sad hymn would feel the gravity of even a simple piece.

To support the intent of the music, a good musician would also sing, for words could steer the notes into the right direction. Eugenia was not a great singer, so she relied on the oldest method of simply speaking the words in the rhythm of her melody. To improvise a tale was no easy feat, therefore in the stream of consciousness she told the feelings that her story evoked.

This song was dedicated to a mighty and proud lion. A beast so free and strong that none of its brethren dared to come near. The lion was feared, but also respected. He had slain many a man, but he did only protect his territory and freedom. When he was challenged by a bear he fought valiantly and struck down the superior opponent with cunning and wild abandon. The scars from that battle were a mark of pride to the mountain lion that had proved his superiority.

At the peak of the lion’s reign, it was found by human beast tamers. Men and women close to nature, more animals than people. They tried to attract the mighty beast with food, but he refused their offerings, as he could hunt for himself. They tried to find him a mate, but he refused to accept a defanged caged lioness.

Ultimately they knew no other solution than violence and burned down the mighty lion’s territory and cornered him in his cave. Fire, relentless, powerful and undefeatable, it was what separated humans from beasts. Great Prometheus had stolen the flame for the sake of those muddy creatures below and granted them dominion among all beasts.

The flame was to be feared, but the lion was too proud to accept his loss. No surrender, no escape. He fought fang and claw for his freedom and tore through six men before finally being taken down by spear wounds and ropes. They caught him, tied him, treated his wounds and entrapped him in a wooden cage.

Freedom was the luxury of the strong. Even a mighty proud lion could not escape those cleverer than it. Those more powerful than it. Those greedier than it.

Caged as a beast to be set free on the battlefield and maul those who opposed its masters, it was trained with sticks and whip. Purpose was ingrained into it, yet it did not conform. No, not the lion. It did not obey orders, it did not accept its loss, forever living for rebellion. Thus it was decided to be useless and abandoned in its cage, for spectators to view a shade beyond its former glory.

Fed by its captors, the lion soon refused to even accept such pittance and accepted his fate to starve to death,

Eventually a boy, no older than a few summers, approached the beast and watched the skinny feline breathe weakly in its cramped cage. The boy was curious and fearless, having grown up with beasts all around him. He gave the lion meat he had stolen from the kitchen and watched on until the beast finally tore into it. Why did the lion decide to accept this meat? A beast’s instincts were the only explanation. For the boy only wished to see it feed and had no other motives. Pity it would not have accepted and desire even less. Only this innocent wish to see a lion be itself was directed at it.

The boy would come and feed the lion every night and the lion would devour the meal. Soon the captors found out and punished the boy, but they did not understand why the lion would feed after refusing for so long.

One night the boy returned and opened the cage. He was beaten and bruised and seemed close to death, yet he had crawled to the cage and unlocked the door. It was foolish, it was a death sentence. If the lion did not eat him, the other humans would end his life. But the boy had no care in his swollen face. It was simply respect for another beast as caged as him.

The lion did not eat the slave. It stayed in its cage and ignored the open door.

He would stay in confinement for the rest of time, for that was his choice. The boy would not decide his fate. The other humans did not find out who opened the cage, but there was no consequence as the lion stayed. The slave eventually grew up and was sold to another place. At the last moment he came to the lion and bowed.

The old wild cat took no notice and lied there, dignified, as he breathed his last.

What meaning did this story carry? What could a melody such as this convey to the Gorgon?

Medusa stared off into the distance with a pained expression. A tale like this was common among human poets. The mighty beast whose pride surpassed its wit. Surely Eugenia had picked it up when listening to them in the city. The message should have been clear, the comeuppance of those who thought themselves too great being shown the truth. Most would take it as an allegory for humans and the divine.

Yet why did this melody sound so… sympathetic? A kindness was in each note that would have been amiss in this tale. Was the lion wrong for having pride in himself? He was the greatest in his territory, unsurpassed by even the strongest animals and true to himself to the end. Humans were simply too clever and resourceful for such a beast. Much like the gods could never be surpassed by the greatest king or hero.

If meaning was created by the musician’s hands and the listener’s heart, would that not mean that Medusa felt pity? There was this notion of respect in the way Eugenia recited the tale. Why would she do this now? This unfair, most human of weapons…

“It may need some refinement.” Eugenia said critically and set down the lyre. “What do you think Medusa-?” She focused and noticed that the Gorgon had her back turned to her. The atmosphere around her was tense and resentful.

“Is this your weapon? Your clever attempt to break down the wall?” Medusa asked emotionlessly.

“Pardon?” The girl had no idea what was going on. How could she? This melody was something that came from two hearts, yet she only had one.

“It will not work. I will not allow it to work.” Medusa said gravely.

For once Eugenia showed a surprising amount of tact as she did not become a rube and ask for clarification. She stood tall and quietly listened to Medusa’s swinging tail.

Medusa could tell that she was confused, but held it in. Maybe that was for the best or maybe she actually wanted her to-

“The rubble has been moved, so return to your work or keep playing around, it matters not to me. For your own sake I suggest you end this tomfoolery.” She gritted her teeth and left for her lair.

It was the first time in weeks that she had left so abruptly. She thought to have grown beyond such actions, but not so.

Eugenia stayed behind, wondering what she had done wrong.

A few days passed until Medusa had calmed down. Thankfully Eugenia had stayed out of the lair and given her the personal space she needed.

Needed? Even thinking of it that way was degrading.

On the surface things had stayed mostly the same. The animals seemed unusually quiet, but near the lair they tended to be careful. The Gorgon’s aura terrified them indeed. Even animals fell victim to her curse, so they instinctively avoided her.

The one thing that would not avoid her was biting into some stale old bread and scratching her slightly curly hair. She looked like some kind of village bumpkin, trying to solve a quandary given to her by a devious scholar.

“Mornin’ Medusa.” She greeted her while chewing on the stone like bread and remained focused on the parchment. She could not see, so her charcoal movement had to be precise and deliberate.

“…you are drawing again.” Medusa noted reserved. The girl’s reaction to her return was so unspectacular that it slightly stung.

“Mhm. I am finishing the plans so that I know exactly where everything is.” She pointed at the drawing of the garden house and the camp. It looked… surprisingly steady. There were clearly some mistakes in there, but for someone who quite clearly did not know what the place looked like she was not far off. She had also jotted down some formulas. That was related to the mathematics she liked so much.

The drawing might actually have been somewhat beautified compared to the actual building though. Medusa looked it over and noticed that it was a bit slanted. Eugenia had put the finishing touches on it by herself. The linen of sails covering the top alongside some clay supports looked questionable at best.

Still, there was an inherent understanding of structure to this.

“It turned out quite acceptable I think. All thanks to your hard work.” She thanked her.

“Hmph. How does a former priestess know so much about making a house?” It was a bit late to question it now.

“I was always interested in it. There was not much I could learn on my own, but I wanted to understand what my father did before…” She trailed off and finished her bread. She swallowed and then continued. “Do you think he would be proud of our work?”

“You ask too much of me, to judge the opinion of a man I never met.” The Gorgon swished her tail back and forth and looked at the garden house. It was not nearly as impressive as the Greenhouse, but it was something they had built together. Even someone as stoic as her could feel some pride in it. “It is fine work.” She said something uncharacteristic.

“Hehe.” Eugenia gave her a beaming grin.

“It may not survive a storm though.” She added to damper her overly content attitude.

“Have some faith!” She replied with a twitching smile.

“Faith is for those who do not know.”

“Then just know it will hold out. We made it stable enough. The flowers and vegetables will be safe, they have to be.”

“If you say so.”

“Grrr.” She pretended to be insulted, but then grabbed Medusa’s hand and returned to her smile. “Let’s inaugurate the new Greenhouse together.”

“Do you not have a better name? This pales even as a weak imitation.” Medusa mocked.

“Hah! You asked for it.” Eugenia seemingly was prepared for this and dragged her to the entrance. The door (torn straight out of the old Greenhouse) was heavy and thick, but something had been nailed into it.

A slate. Carefully carved in pristine writing was the name:

[Palla’s Garden]

Medusa’s heart stopped.

She perceived the words, but it took a while before they could truly register. Had she lost the ability to read?

Eugenia clutched her stiff hand and held it determinedly.

“Perhaps it is dishonoring her memory if a priestess that turned her back to the order invokes her name.” She admitted in a soft voice. “I never met her. I never visited her grave in Athens. They never even taught us her name. But I think it is a shame that someone who was so wise and influential has become forgotten by us so quickly.”

Medusa hesitantly touched the slate. These letters did represent a name that she had not heard in centuries. The memory still seemed fresh as she had told Eugenia about her recently, but it had still been something distant and buried.

“Sarpedon is not just our home, is it?” Eugenia asked sheepishly.

“You…”

“This is something I wanted to do for myself as well. A reminder… of sorts.” Eugenia gulped and let go of Medusa’s hand to open the door. The smell of flowers streamed out immediately.

Medusa looked down and the snakes twisted back in response. They knew their master did not want to be seen right now.

“Thank you.”

“What was that?” Eugenia listened up from the flowers she was tending to. Did she really not hear? It was hard to believe.

What was hard to believe was that the girl was not acting with purpose. This assault on the Gorgon’s defenses was relentless indeed. It was a battle that neither of them acknowledged, for if one of them put it into words that would no doubt be a loss as well.

Medusa realized that this time her heart did not harden. She felt no need to run anymore. The anger of the last few days seemed so insignificant already. She had won one bet already, so her confidence was at an all-time high. To stay true to herself was her only course of action.

“There is a hole in this wall.” She pointed at a gap that let sunlight stream inside.

“WHAT?!” Eugenia was devastated and felt the hole with both hands.

“Do not worry. A single hole will not make this wall collapse.” She assured her with a sneer.

The Gorgon had made peace with her roused emotions. She did not realize yet that the sun was coming closer, bringing a surprising intruder with it that would test such newfound serenity.