<u>Book I</u>


    The seafoam kissed her face.


    Winds of Zephyrus’ grace


    billow the young woman’s tunic


    as she stands on the edge


    of the Acropolis,


    overlooking the Aegean.


    Young maiden Medusa


    had been gifted highest


    honors of old Athens.


    She had been proclaimed as


    priestess of Athena.


    For many, the office


    would be foul auspice;


    for such lofty stations


    beset degradations


    of spirit by hubris.


    Fair Medusa was not


    among the lot of “many”.


    Ever just and temp’rate,


    she kept proper conduct


    in divine accordance.


    Through the eyes of Bubo,


    her most cherished pet owl,


    Great Athena was pleased.


    Medusa kept the rites,


    conducted rituals,


    and offered wise counsel.


    It was not long before


    citizens of Athens


    raised a statue to her.


    Earnest, reserved, grateful;


    met such adoration


    humbly with grace.


    Yet the eyes upon her


    gazed with such intentions


    that invite attention


    of one Aphrodite.


    “Who is this girl?” she asked,


    “she provoked the passions


    of all Athenians.”


    Then the high lady love


    cast her brewing ire


    upon magnificent,


    peerless lady wisdom.


    “Such beautiful creatures


    are wasted in service


    to your chaste scholarship!”


    Aphrodite shouted.


    Great Athena smirked,


    for Venus’ envy


    could not hide in her eyes.


    “Hush thy haut,” she replied,


    “Lady Love, your antics


    would make a monster of her.”


    Affronted, Aphrodite


    stormed away, dictated


    by her fickle impulse.


    Yet Athena lingered.


    Her own words gave her pause.


    Later that very night,


    Athena took the form


    of a shambling old crone.


    Old Athens’ citizens


    were none the wiser to


    the goddess’ presence.


    The women most envied


    Medusa’s braided locks


    and the men enraptured


    by her slender figure.


    “I know this spell too well,”


    Athena whispered.


    She found her way to


    city’s acropolis,


    where her grandest temple


    stood in all its splendor.


    On its front step lingered


    the young women whom all


    of Athens was transfixed by.


    Athena’s blue-grey eyes


    met the golden yellow


    orbs of Medusa which


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.pierced through shade like a torch.


    “Greetings sweet grandmother!”


    Medusa said as she


    gingerly approached what


    she presumed to be a


    wayward city elder,


    “If you are lost, then come;


    take shelter from Nyx here,


    palace of Athena,


    till Helios’ first light


    make true your journey home.”


    That is when the old crone


    removed her hood, revealed


    herself in full splendor:


    goddess’ divine light


    was banishing the night.


    “Your goddess is most pleased


    with your hospitality,”


    Athena said to her.


    “Athena!” Medusa


    excitedly proclaimed.


    The priestess leapt from step


    and rushed to her god’s side.


    “Come and see the wonders


    done in my name,” she urged.


    As eager as a child,


    Medusa took the hand


    of Athena and led her to


    the statue of herself,


    which stood before Athena’s.


    The monument was meager


    by fair comparison.


    It was not an affront,


    and even if it was,


    the goddess of wisdom


    recognized that was not


    Medusa’s own doing.


    She reservedly smiled


    at her priestess’ joy.


    She was a happy child,


    impassioned by reward


    for her worthy conduct.


    But she was not goddess


    of knowledge for nothing.


    Athena knew too well


    these first steps along the


    well-trod path of ruin.


    “Be happy Medusa,”


    she said, “happy in deeds


    and not in your acclaim.


    Though you may meet it with


    an honest heart and grace,


    baleful gaze of masses


    can easily infect


    even the most earnest


    souls with foul vanity.


    You make me proud, child.


    Always allow your eyes


    to look upon others


    in good faith and reason


    See them as the living


    beings blessed with the gift


    of miraculous life


    and the wonder of thought,


    that is the work called ‘people’.”


    Though reverent attention


    she had paid, Medusa


    found herself overwhelmed.


    The girl wasn’t certain


    what to do with those words.


    “If the statue offends-,”


    she began to say but


    was hastily cut short.


    “No! My sweet girl, be proud,”


    Athena insisted,


    “Remember who you are:


    a caring, competent


    woman with true power.


    You are more, also less


    than an idol of man.”


    That is when the goddess


    made manifest a shield


    polished to such a state


    that one could see their face


    in the shine’s reflection.


    “Look upon this image


    to witness your true self,”


    Athena instructed


    as she handed the shield


    to perplexed Medusa,


    “You don’t lose sight of her.