ã€ŠThe Sixth Life of Medusaã€‹


 1. The Visitor

    "Come on. Armando treats us well, and we don''t even pay rent. Do you know the potatoes I used to make yesterday''s gandinga were from the back garden?" Medusa asked with a proud grin. "I even gave¡ª"

    Her smile slipped at the look on Antonii''s face. Since he returned home that evening, something felt off. She had caught him watching her with sadness more than once. Now they were about to sleep, and he wouldn''t drop this topic she absolutely despised.

    "But look at you." His tone was grim¡ªdefeated. "You are too refined to live in this... and with the baby coming."

    Medusa burst into expletives as she ripped off him. Again with those lines. When would he stop? As she paced, she bit her thumb. Five steps covered the length of their bedroom. Everything about their home was small and bare, but she adored it all the same.

    "I hate it when you''re like this. Should I scar my face? Dress like a hobo? Is that what you want? I''ll do it." And she was serious, but Antonii wouldn''t know.

    "Don''t be like that." Groaning, Antonii pushed his curly hair away from his brow and knocked the back of his head against the headboard. "Just think about it for a moment. We''ll need a plan. Kids are expensive. And what if there are birth complications? I don''t like your giving birth at home idea... and the baby, what if it gets sick? With the farm so far away from the next¡ª"

    "Don''t worry about it," Medusa said mid-pace. "And our baby will never fall sick." Neither will I.

    Sighing, Antonii observed her with tired eyes. He seemed so sage-like, as if he could read her thoughts and knew her more than she knew herself. And he always acted ancient¡ªvery ironic when she was the ancient one in the relationship.

    "You don''t know that," he finally said.

    Ha, if only you know. Moments like this were a prod to the heart. Guilt urged Medusa to lay everything bare. All her secrets. Antonii would believe her, right? But fear and doubt sewed her lips shut. Out of the lives she lived, this was the only one she accepted the love of another or willingly carried a child. It was too precious to ruin.

    "Listen, May. We can be careless with ourselves, but the case is different when our kid is involved. Living here..." he glanced around and shook his head. "Living here, I don''t think it''ll do. Let''s move back to Almonte."

    It stung; his words were needles. How was it that he couldn''t see things the way she did? Before agreeing to be his wife, she had shared her dream, and he eagerly promised to make it come true. What was this now?

    Stopping her pacing, Medusa stared at a coin-sized stain on the worn carpeted floor. No amount of scrubbing could get it off. "Do not look down on our home." Working on a farm in a peaceful Puerto Rican town was a blessing. Work wasn''t back-breaking labour either. Yes, their house was small and their belongings sparse, but they weren''t poor.

    "I''m not looking down on our home." His gaze turned imploring; he appeared even more exhausted. "I just... I just want more for us. I can get my former job back when we move."

    Who is filling your head with nonsense! Medusa bit her lower lip instead of yelling those words. Antonii was not to blame. It was understandable that he would be like this, after all, she had not met him on some remote farm in the outbacks. Gah, this was annoying!

    "You don''t have to agree with me immediately," he said in that low please-be-understanding voice. And it was working. Medusa was beginning to see a dot of sense in his argument. "Give it a thought. We still have months before the baby is due."

    "Fine." Marching back to their bed, Medusa settled next to him all the while grumbling.

    "Don''t be mad." He grabbed her hand and wove their fingers.

    "I''m not mad," Medusa muttered as she rested her temple on his arm.

    "But you''re pouting." There was laughter in his voice.

    "I am not pouting," Medusa shot back with an annoyed huff.

    "Your cheeks are all puffy like a chipmunk''s. You are totally pouting."

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    Medusa batted his hand away when he poked her right cheek.

    "Yep, like a baby chipmunk." When he poked her cheek some more, Medusa fought but failed to stop her smile.

    "Stop already." She lost; he must have heard the smile in her voice. She hugged his arm and sighed. They had each other''s love, a roof over their head, and he was healthy. What was making him so worried now?

    "I just... lately, I''ve been having this unsettling feeling in my gut." He swept a thumb over the back of her hand. "Been feeling like we should move. This place isn''t¡ª"

    "I choose you, Antonii." Medusa tightened her grip around his arm. "I deeply longed for the life we''re currently living. I am content. You don''t need to try so hard." She looked up to his face and searched his warm brown eyes, hoping with all the hope in the world that he saw her sincerity.

    "You made my dream of a simple life come true. You gave me this. If anyone should feel bad, it should be me. You get to see your family only once a year because of me. Your sister loathes me."

    "Elena loathes everybody."

    They both chuckled. When Antonii pecked her forehead and beamed down at her, her heart melted into a gooey warm puddle.

    "Apart from Elena, who loathes the entire world, who can ever hate you?"

    Medusa immediately dropped her gaze. In this world, maybe none hated her to an acidic degree. But there was another world out there, one she was grateful to be severed from.

    Snuggling against his warmth, Medusa shut her eyes. "I''ll think about us moving. Just promise you won''t overdo it to give me a better life."

    His chuckle was a soothing rumble against the side of Medusa''s face. "Fine, I promise not to overdo it."

    Drawing back, Medusa searched his eyes again. There was sincerity there, and his small tired smile was everything. "Good." Smiling, too, she pressed a kiss on his lips. "Let''s not fight."

    "Don''t steal my words."

    Perhaps he was correct. Raising their child away from their home town may not be the best for it. Tomorrow, she would tell him to start making plans to move back. They had lived five years in this secluded haven. Wasn''t that enough sacrifice on his part? Perhaps now was the time to make a sacrifice of her own.

    ***

    A constant trickle of water.

    That damp coldness of the cave.

    The sharp sting of burning steel against her neck.

    Wriggling snakes for hair held in an iron grip.

    Help me! The words were fused to the walls of Medusa''s throat, unable to find freedom.

    Something was not right. It felt too real¡ª

    Medusa opened her eyes with a gasp, her heart a ricocheting ball within the walls of her chest. The dream was too vivid. She had never had one like it in all her lives. That memory she buried and hoped to never recall.

    She swallowed against a dry throat; she needed water. As expected whenever she woke up, her body was slow to catch up. It always seemed like a hundred versions of herself had to wake up before her physical body could follow suit.

    As she sat up, she looked around. It was dark, but light spilt from the bottom of the bathroom door and faintly illuminated the room. Was Antonii in the bathroom? His spot on the bed was cool. Blinking at the space beside her, she flinched when she heard it. A sharp whine.

    Rico, their four-year-old mutt.

    The vivid dream Medusa suffered through doubled back and fuelled her rising panic. This familiar but unwanted feeling¡ªthe same feeling that paralysed her in that cave and heralded her first taste of death.

    Fear.

    Fear, thick and heavy, atrophied her body like slow poison. Every movement felt sluggish. Breathing was hard.

    Casting the bed cover aside with a shaky hand, Medusa stood. With weak legs and a wildly beating heart, she walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open. It was empty.

    Her breathing grew harsh. There was no need to panic. No need at all. This feeling of terror was ridiculous and unfounded. Antonii simply went to the kitchen. She would open her bedroom door, walk to the kitchen and find him stuffing his face with last night''s leftovers. But her heart would not believe it, and with every step she took, she sunk deeper into the quicksand of every pessimistic possibility.

    Despite the haze of rapidly rising panic, Medusa managed to make it to the kitchen. He was not stuffing his face with last night''s leftovers or anywhere within sight.

    Be calm. Outside. Antonii must be outside.

    Outside doing what at this time of the night? Hysteria yelled.

    Urging her stiff legs on, Medusa made it to the living area.

    "Finally, sleeping beauty joins us. I almost came to wake you."

    That voice. Even though he spoke in English, Medusa still recognised that voice.

    The bringer of her death had found her. Fear bubbled over, hardened like wax and rooted her to the spot at the doorway. An inner voice begged her not to look, but her eyes were rebellious. They moved and stared.

    They had hog-tied Antonii and made him lie on his side with a cloth tied across his mouth. His face was a mess, and his eyes, swollen from beating, widened when they met hers. He shook his head. His fists were bloody. He must have fought. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

    Standing frozen, Medusa held Antonii''s panicked gaze. He was speaking with his eyes, but she was unable to understand. The sound of a weak whine drew her attention. It was little Rico. He was lying in a sea of red, pinned to the ground with a silver dagger. She blinked, fighting and failing to comprehend what she was seeing.

    "Eyes up."

    Dragging her attention from her dying dog, Medusa did as he commanded.

    Even with Perseus'' eyes hidden behind the rounded-frame dark glasses, Medusa still recognised the face of her killer.

    Heroic. Perfect. At home amid horrific violence.

    Perseus sat with careless ease, suit jacket open and finger tapping a beat on the arm of the only wingback chair in the living area. To his left and right were two large stoic men Medusa did not recognise.

    When Perseus smiled, it was easy and bright. "You have been very difficult to find, Medusa."

 2. Learn Obedience

    Perseus casually pulled a pistol from his shoulder holster. "It''s good you chose a secluded hovel to live in. And so separate from the main house? Nice." He flashed another white smile.

    After retrieving a silencer from one of his men, Perseus began twisting it on with complete focus. "This is necessary. I find the loudness of gunshots... uncomfortable."

    "P-please," Medusa managed to say for the first time since this nightmare began. Her tongue was bitter with fear and her head throbbed in time with her heavy heartbeat. Forming coherent thoughts was hard. Coming up with a plan was impossible.

    "I can see you have a thing growing in you like that time we met." He gave her belly a pointed look. Nothing in his expression gave away what he was thinking, but Medusa did not need to read his expression to know what he thought of her.

    "I promise not to hit a major artery... yet."

    When Perseus aimed the gun at Antonii, strength left Medusa''s legs. "I beg you¡ª"

    Perseus glanced her way. "I need you to watch."

    The suppressed sound of a gunshot.

    Medusa muffled a horrified yell with a hand as her knees buckled. Blood oozed from the wound in Antonii''s thigh. His smothered groans battered her heart, clawed at it, ripping it to shreds.

    Shoot me instead. Shoot me. "Why?" Medusa managed to whisper.

    "It is not for a beast to understand why it is punished or slain." Perseus'' voice was flat, emotionless. "Receive your destiny with obedience."

    Another shot. This time in the second thigh. Medusa crawled forward, desperate to reach Antonii, but she was snatched by the hair. She hadn''t even noticed when one of the men moved.

    As the hand squeezed and pulled, Medusa was hauled back to that awful moment in the cave. That helplessness and swelling sense of inevitable doom.

    Though Antonii''s eyes appeared unfocused, his chest was moving. He was dying before her eyes and she could do nothing. This man whose only crime was loving her was dying and she was absolutely powerless.

    Tossing the gun aside, Perseus flicked his wrist and without ceremony a familiar sword materialised in his grip. Its golden hilt was wrapped in black leather, and the air around its sharpened edge moved like mirages from heat. Medusa blinked at the weapon. Memories. Horrid memories pressed in.

    "I see the recognition in your eyes. That is good." Resting the flat of the sword on his shoulder, Perseus strolled over to Antonii and hunkered down. "Let me give you a revelation about the thing you married."

    Medusa froze. Don''t say it. Please, do not tell him. Please! She yelled on the inside. Wailing. Begging for time to stop.

    "May is not your wife''s true name. Do you know what a gorgon is?" Perseus cocked his head to the side, thick brown hair shifting across his forehead. "The real name of the thing you married is Medusa and she is a twisted version of a gorgon¡ªan aberration of the species marked for death."

    Medusa held Antonii''s eyes, begging. This one secret she had kept from him, this hesitation that stretched through seven years was back in its most hideous naked form.

    "I perceive that you wish to speak." Perseus untied the cloth keeping Antonii from speaking. "If you plead right, I may spare your life."

    Wheezing, Antonii glared at Perseus. The rage in his eyes. "I do not know who you are, but I know my wife. You have done enough to show me who the monster is."

    Oh, Antonii. Medusa''s heart broke. Bitter tears spilled down her cheeks.

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    "Hmmm..." Appearing in deep thought, the corner of Perseus'' lip dipped as he tapped a finger against the hilt of his sword. "I presume you are correct," he said with a nod.

    Smartly rising to his feet, Perseus turned and pointed his sword at Medusa. That oppressive aura the sword possessed. How could she ever forget it? "I would have to perform a demonstration for the ignorant man you married, Medusa."

    It happened in an instant. One moment, Medusa was kneeling and the next, her head was severed.

    Agony like liquid fire. Her vision blurred. Biting cold rushed in. This feeling. This hideous transformation was happening before Antonii. Medusa''s soul recoiled within itself; shame, anguish, denial, and a fervent desire to cease to exist reigned over her senses.

    No amount of disbelief could turn the reality of the horror unfolding.

    Try as she may, Medusa couldn''t shut her eyes. And the hissing sounds around her. Slithering reptiles. Her hair was alive. Angry. They moved, twisting and writhing. She could not feel her body; it must have turned to ash. A foot stopped the roll of her head. The thought of what Perseus was about to do¡ª

    "You said she was no monster. Now your eyes are wide and terrified." An enraged cry cut off Perseus'' chuckle.

    "What have you done to my wife!" Antonii''s voice grew raw. "What the hell have you done to her, you beast!" He sobbed.

    Medusa fought to shut her eyes even as tears flowed without end. How she longed to see Antonii but doing so¡ªNo! She begged the gods, even Athena. Like a fool, she shouted memorised pleas of supplication to the deity that most thoroughly ruined her life.

    Blind me. Shut my eyes forever. Do not let me see him. I BEG YOU. I BEG YOU, BLIND ME.

    "Look at him weeping for a beast." Disgust corroded Perseus'' words.

    "That''s enough noise. I''ve grown weary of this moving display." Perseus bent and picked up Medusa''s head. His touch was fire.

    There was movement. She saw their cabinet that held pictures and memorabilia. The left wall she had covered with a horrendous painting of lily meadows. The hand that held her squeezed, burning even hotter. The snakes remained limp in obedience. Soon her life force would fade and a mindless petrification tool would take its place. This pitiful fate.

    "Look." Perseus'' hand guided her sight. First was Rico''s still form. Then the blood around Antonii''s legs. His chest. Neck. Chin. Finally, Medusa met his eyes.

    The transformation always started with the eyes. Flesh to stone.

    Medusa watched it all, detached and yet present. Antonii became stone. Everything was gone. A woman with nothing.

    "Still effective." Perseus unceremoniously discarded her head. Her vision rolled before it stopped. Eyes on the ceiling. The only sound her ears registered was a ringing.

    Unlike the first time Medusa experienced decapitation, she did not feel empty. Another feeling was rising. Something foreign. A swelling of emotions, an unstoppable force, crashing over and pouring into what should be hollow. A fierce rejection from the innermost part of her being.

    Something snapped. A silent explosion. The force of its rupture was thunder in her head.

    A violent wind ripped through the living area. Frames flew off walls. Furniture disintegrated. Glass exploded. A force pulled at Medusa, lifting what remained of her body from the ground.

    Perseus was yelling something but she was deaf to his words, all her focus was on Antonii''s petrified body. Then she was torn from whatever connection she had with her physical form. It was like free-falling from a cliff only to be embraced by soft clouds.

    Then the chaos grew still.

    Shards of wood and glass, even drops of blood hung midair. Perseus and his men had not escaped this frozen state. Upon Perseus'' face was a snarl of determination, his sword aimed at where her head once floated. She knew what to do.

    All it took was one touch. First, they turned to stone then crumbled to fine dust. She stared down at the heaps for the longest time. Nothing. She felt nothing. Should she have made them suffer? No. She would not taint these final moments with Antonii.

    Turning away, she floated to Antonii''s stone form. Kneeling before him, she placed a gentle hand on his face and noticed for the first time the state of her body. Her hand possessed a strange glow. Though her human form remained, it appeared transparent and emitted a soft green light.

    Sitting cross-legged before Antonii''s statue, Medusa took in every detail. Something black unfurled in her but she paid it no mind. There was no will to observe the strangeness of her current situation.

    "I am sorry." Medusa placed her hand on the cool statue once more and willed his body to turn to dust. "Rest well."

    A stone urn materialised in her palm and with it, she gathered his dust. Next, she walked to Rico. After pulling and discarding the dagger, she repeated the action.

    Now she held what remained of those she loved, and like a child lost in a crowd, she did not know what to do. Never in all her existence had she felt more alone and in pain.

    Staggering to her bedroom, Medusa carefully settled in her bed. She considered her lives so far. All five of them, the best being the fifth one. Those precious years where she loved and was loved in return. Very good years in a very good house with a very good dog and a very good husband. Her entire being wept even with the absence of tears.

    This time, stop. I do not wish to live again. Let me stay dead. I am exhausted. Please, stop.

    With a weak sigh, Medusa released the force that held everything still and succumbed to death.

 3. Enemy of My Enemy

    Medusa blinked; eyes fixed on the ceiling but seeing nothing. Her tears wouldn''t stop flowing. They slid down the sides of her face in a consistent stream and disappeared into her hairline.

    I killed Antonii.

    Antonii becoming stone was the last thing Medusa recalled. Perseus had won. Where did he take her head? How did he even find her? Why was he so cruel? Why make her kill Antonii? Renewed anguish burned away her endless questions.

    I turned Antonii to stone.

    Rationality begged her to rise and consider her current situation but her body would not obey, and she was too weak to force it to act. For hours she lay still, her soul groaning under the crushing weight of grief.

    Daylight crawled in. Her ears registered sounds. A cockerel crowed. When it crowed again, she decided to act.

    Medusa frowned as she sat up. The expected feeling of a hundred versions of herself rising was absent. Her frown deepened when she took in the room she was in.

    This...this was not her room at the farm yet there was something oddly familiar about it.

    The smell of baking bread pricked an ancient memory. Two people talking as they walked past her door on quick feet. That language. Greek. A similar but altered version of the language from¡ª

    A woozy spell hit Medusa as a realisation struck. She was back to the genesis of her anguish. The worst life she ever lived.

    Please, no.

    Medusa''s gaze darted about even as her heart thundered in denial. There was no mistaking that dresser, the ornate bronze mirror, and her neatly arranged dolls on the low shelf to the right. The wide bed she was sitting on. This was her childhood bedroom in Hesperides.

    Unlike her other lives where she was born with her memories intact, something worse had happened this time around. She was back to her very first life in Cosmolith, this world where deities were far too involved in mortal existence.

    Rolling off her bed, Medusa stumbled to the mirror on shaky feet.

    Tears blurred her vision at what she confirmed.

    A much younger version of herself stared back¡ªperhaps nine or ten. Those accursed green eyes, thick dark hair, small mortal body.

    Horrifying memories pressed in, memories she wished remained dead but they kept rising, scratching at her sanity, yelling to be acknowledged.

    Poseidon.

    Athena.

    Perseus.

    A knife. She needed a knife or anything sharp. With trembling hands, she shifted through drawers, desperately searching for anything to use to ruin this beauty before it ruined her once more.

    "No." Stopping her frantic search, Medusa returned to the mirror and glared at her reflection. It mattered little if she was scarred or not. Soon, she would be carted off to Athena''s temple.

    That must never happen.

    A single solution drummed in her head¡ªa sure method to protect herself from what was to come in the future. What power does a feeble mortal hold against high deities? But in her hand was a rare opportunity, a last revolt against the gods.

    Ripping her door open, Medusa sprinted down the corridor. Bare feet slapping against the rough marble floor, she gave herself to the memory of her childhood home, taking turns, rushing past servants who thankfully paid her no mind.

    Her parents would not be up yet and even if they were, they were too wrapped up in themselves to be concerned about an airheaded runt. Nobody paid her mind and she was grateful for her invisibility.

    Soon she was running on lush dew-covered grass, the cliff in sight and the cool sea breeze whipping at her hair and face. Like a weak flame, she clutched the memory of Antonii as she drew nearer to the edge.

    Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Useless stupid tears.

    "I am sorry." Stumbling to a stop at the very edge, Medusa fell to her knees. "I''m so sorry." She hugged herself and wept¡ªhowling her pain and grief.

    The waves crashed powerfully against the rocky bank below. Sprays of cool water dusted her face. Her body was mortal. Throwing herself over will certainly end her life but a big question loomed at the back of her mind, mocking her determination.

    Will she wake in another life or will this be the end? Was this her form of immortality, to die but never truly die? Surely this was worse than the immortality her family possessed.

    Fiercely discarding her doubt, Medusa stood, drew in a deep breath and¡ª

    "Stretch your hands above your head, touch your palms and dive. I''ll guide you."

    Heart sinking in fright, Medusa stumbled away from the edge of the cliff.

    "W-who is there?" Medusa observed her surroundings in a panic. There was only a spread of grass behind and the sea before her.

    "Diving this way, you will not be smashed against the rocks. This I promise."

    "You," Medusa yelled, "whoever you are, stay away from my business."

    "But I hate seeing a life wasted." There was a bored lilt to the voice. "And this rage you have, it''s a good thing. Hold on to it... you will need a lot of that."

    "How are you speaking in my head?" Medusa covered her ears, a feeling of true helplessness making her want to weep again.

    "Stretch your hands above your head, touch your palms and dive." It was a dull drone now, as if the speaker was suddenly tired of the conversation.

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    "No," Medusa spat.

    "You stubborn child. You better listen when I am being patient."

    "Leave me ALONE!" The last word rose from Medusa''s belly and ripped out of her mouth like a roar before blasting over the sea ahead. Powerful ripples pushed against the waves before ceasing abruptly.

    "Wha..." Medusa staggered away, her lips and tongue tingling from whatever that was. "How... what was that?"

    "Hahaha! Oh my, oh my. You are a rare treasure indeed." The voice''s laughter was soft and tinkling. There was the sound of light clapping as well. "Now, do as I said. Stretch your hands above your head, touch your palms and dive."

    Sighing, Medusa sat on the ground instead of obeying. "You have ruined the mood."

    "You mean I saved your life?"

    An intrinsic part of Cosmolith was gods. There were numerous, but the divide between the higher and lower ones¡ªant deities as Medusa liked to call them¡ªwas like the distance between the earth and the sun. Her parents were ant deities but at least they were wealthy enough to not come under any god or goddess house. Their freedom had come with a price though. They had to submit their daughters as priestesses to a certain high goddess to maintain their autonomy and enjoy benefits.

    Such a flaming pile of rancid bull.

    Judging from the fact that Medusa wasn''t incinerated on the spot for her insolence, it was most likely that the being speaking was an ant deity.

    "Why don''t you give my suggestion a chance? You could have ended your life anyway. If what I show you doesn''t hold your interest, you can choose to do whatever you wish to do as a last ''curses'' to the great and benevolent Athena."

    The sarcasm in their words caused Medusa to perk up. Whoever this deity was, it seemed they did not like Athena. Enemy of my enemy worked here.

    If there was one deity at the top of Medusa''s hate list, it would be Athena. But her hate was useless. Not only was she not a lesser god, she was mortal. Going against Athena would be like a dust mote going against an everlasting mountain.

    "If I do as you say, what will happen?"

    "Do not ruin the fun. Dive in. Your parents are water-type deities. You have little to fear in the water."

    Suddenly exhausted and unwilling to exchange words, Medusa walked to the edge of the cliff and lazily positioned herself as the voice instructed. Without a thought, she dived.

    At the sight of the rushing rock, Medusa shut her eyes. If death comes now, she would embrace it.

    But death did not come. Instead of smashing against the rocks, Medusa pierced the water, her body moving like an iron spear pulled by a powerful magnet. In her past lives, she had been excellent at holding her breath underwater. The last time she checked, her limit had been an hour even with the exhaustion that came with swimming.

    Soon, Medusa spotted a dot of light ahead that grew the closer she swam to it. When she pushed through, she drew a lungful of clean air and looked around.

    The place had the appearance of a cave with walls holding a staggering number of jutting bioluminescent crystals. A miner would drool at the sight. Just how wealthy was this deity?

    That old chill returned. Medusa absolutely despised caves.

    "You came." It was the same voice but this time it did not sound disembodied, and it possessed the most pleasant lilt Medusa had ever heard. "Come in. Do not tell me you now hesitate after what you nearly attempted."

    Water sluiced down Medusa''s body as she dragged herself out of the water with an annoyed huff. As she stood, her skin tingled from the cool draft blowing from straight ahead. She looked behind and saw that where she emerged from now resembled a puddle, and just behind it was a tall stone wall. Walking over, she attempted to dip a leg into the puddle, but her foot met solid ground.

    No means of escape. Great.

    Medusa turned back around. The cave was peculiar; it had more to do with a feeling than what she could see.

    As she squeezed water out of her hair, she walked ahead and took a bend to her right. Soon she came upon a hall that bore a shocking characteristic.

    A vibrant spread of the galaxy with clusters of winking constellations spanned what should be the ceiling, and amidst it were floating rubbles and broken marble pillars.

    Medusa gawked. She was no longer sure whoever invited her was an ant-deity. Their abode was... too much.

    She glanced around, taking note of the towering curved-in stretch of stone shelves that made up the walls. Medusa recognised twine-bound texts, clay slabs, scrolls and vials. The other objects were unfamiliar, and even more curious was the pristine working area that had an uncanny resemblance to an old-fashioned chemical lab.

    The strangeness was multiplying. Medusa hugged herself and continued gawking.

    The ''sky'' of the expansive room was domed, and straight ahead a tall door appeared and opened. Out came a woman.

    Medusa''s guess had been correct; it was a deity. The presence of her aura was evidence enough and the shine from it enhanced the deep brown tone of her skin. She possessed a straight pierced nose, full lips and dopey eyes that gave her face a lazy but attractive appearance. If she were a mortal, she would look to be around her early thirties.

    In her hands were two goblets. When she met Medusa''s eyes, a smile lit her face.

    The friendly warmth the action bellied took Medusa aback. If there was one thing the later years of her first life on Cosmolith had taught her, it was to look at things beyond their appearance. Deities, especially high deities, could never be trusted. The more revered and nice, the deeper the mistrust.

    "Your weariness is a forcefield around you. Good trait." She nodded at a cosy sitting area in a corner of the large space. "Please, sit."

    Even as Medusa walked over and settled in the low cushioned chair, she remained alert, eyes darting about and body tense.

    The goddess reclined in a chaise across from Medusa, appearing thoroughly relaxed. "Refreshments?" She offered the second cup to Medusa.

    When Medusa shook her head, the goddess placed the cup on the low table between them and delicately arranged the hem of her purple toga around her bare feet. "You should do a better job at concealing the fact that you''re not a ten-year-old," she said with a tut. "You''re confusing me."

    Medusa stiffened. Every self-preservatory cell in her body yelled for her to flee. This was why she loathed deities. One could never predict what they knew. And seeing that this goddess was aware she was not a child sealed the fact that she was a high goddess. High deities were dangerous.

    "How do you know that?" Medusa asked in a quiet voice.

    "Why don''t you relax and listen to what I have to say first?" Her voice took on a lazy drawl as she observed Medusa with open curiosity. "What can I possibly do to you that will be worse than what you''ve already suffered?"

    "How?" Medusa grew even more panicked. A renewed crushing feeling of complete helplessness assailed her. Like a mouse in a glass case, she felt exposed and vulnerable to this deity. "What do you know about me?"

    "Take my advice and relax. Have a cup of my special blend. It will help." She pushed the golden goblet towards Medusa. "And there is no poison in it. If I wanted you dead, I would have let you get smashed against the rocks." Her downturned eyes dimmed with a sympathetic understanding.

    Fighting hard to quell her panic, Medusa took the cup with a shaky hand and looked in. It resembled red wine. "Children should not drink alcohol."

    The goddess chortled, a look of amusement colouring her face. "Child, that is not wine. It''s an elixir I brewed. You will find it especially useful."

    Even more weary, Medusa gingerly placed the cup back on the table. "What is it that you want from me? Who are you?"

    "Hmmm." The goddess took a sip from her goblet as she leaned into her seat, appearing deep in thought.

    "What do you want from me?" Medusa repeated.

    "So impatient. One would think you would have learnt to relax after living so many lives." She tsked and took another sip from her goblet.

    "Thanks for the observation," Medusa said through gritted teeth. This goddess was even aware of her reincarnation circle. How comforting.

    The goddess placed her goblet on the table and sat up. "Since you''re in a rush, I will tell you."

    In an instant, the air around the goddess changed. Her aura, once muted, grew heavy and took on a bright golden shine. Energy pulsed around Medusa as the soft smell of midnight orchids reached her nose. Then came the urge to submit herself to some temple and send prayers the goddess''s way.

    "I am Moirai Clotho." The goddess''s once dopey eyes now glowed white with crackling power and her voice reverberated through the cave.

    Then the overwhelming presence vanished as fast as it appeared, though the smell of orchids lingered. "But you can call me Clotho," she added with a playful grin.

 4. You Must Crawl

    Medusa frowned. ¡°Clotho?¡± She had never heard of a high goddess called Moirai Clotho.

    ¡°Ah, that Monolith.¡± Clotho sighed into her goblet. When she raised her head, her eyes were fierce. ¡°I have a question for you. Promise to answer as candidly as you can.¡±

    Medusa answered with a wary nod. ¡°I also have¡­ questions for you.¡±

    Even though it was foolish to believe the words of a deity, Medusa needed answers. Returning to this accursed life came with the perk of knowing some future events, but the advantage paled in comparison to the catastrophe of randomly encountering a malevolent high god.

    Clotho''s expression appeared open and earnest. ¡°I will answer your questions if I have the answers.¡±

    Medusa eyed the goddess with suspicion. ¡°How would I know you aren¡¯t lying?¡±

    ¡°Child, you will have to take my word for it. I have no intention to harm you.¡±

    When Medusa stonily stared at her, Clotho sighed and finished her drink in one gulp.

    ¡°Very well.¡± The goddess placed a hand on her chest. ¡°I shall give you something higher than my word.

    ¡°May the Monolith hear me.¡± Though Clotho mumbled, her words were audible and seemed to move from Medusa¡¯s left ear to her right. ¡°I swear on my name, Moirai Clotho, that I mean Medusa, child of Phorcys and Ceto, no harm.¡± Her eyes glowed white before reverting to how they once were.

    ¡°Are you pleased now?¡± Clotho asked with a huff. ¡°That was an honour oath in my name. I¡¯m now incapable of causing you harm.¡±

    Stubborn doubt stumped the spark of trust the goddess¡¯ words ignited in Medusa¡¯s heart. ¡°What if you use another to harm me? What if there is a loophole in this oath?¡±

    Medusa had seen the manipulation of deities and how ruthless they were when using and crushing mortals. They could never be trusted.

    Clotho facepalmed before groaning at the starry ceiling. ¡°It¡¯s useless. Without some level of trust between us, this cannot work.¡±

    The goddess shifted to her back. ¡°I do not know whether I should feel insulted or sorry for you.¡± She waved in a shooing motion. ¡°You may leave the same way you came in. Forget this encounter.¡±

    Medusa warily stood. When Clotho did nothing, she began retracing her steps. All the while she walked away, she expected something to happen¡ªsome form of punishment for daring to be impudent in the presence of a high goddess. Nothing of that sort occurred.

    When Medusa returned to the puddle, she dipped her foot into the water but didn¡¯t meet a solid surface. She could swim back home.

    Sitting cross-legged before the puddle, Medusa considered her situation. With high deities, nothing was as it seemed. Not once had she experienced the kindness of honest treatment in their hands.

    Escaping Cosmolith to a relatively ordinary world had been a great relief. Even though Medusa¡¯s resentment and rage ran deep, she had comforted herself with the knowledge that she was permanently severed from deities. Living through four circles of life had offered some healing, but the largeness with which deities loomed over the lives of mortals was too great. So absolute was that power that they managed to reach her in another world.

    Could this deity have a solution? On the heels of that question came another bigger question. Would other high deities be able to know her story with a single glance her way?

    The possibility chilled Medusa.

    Rising to her feet, Medusa made her way back. Though she did not trust Clotho, the goddess had at least made an oath to show her trustworthiness. And it seemed like she held a grudge against high deities.

    ¡°You have returned.¡± Clotho remained reclined, eyes shut as if in sleep.

    ¡°Yes, I have.¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I have a question that bothers me.¡±

    ¡°I said I would answer your questions to the best of my knowledge. I also have questions for you. As powerful as I may seem, I do not know everything.¡±

    Medusa pondered the statement as she took a seat. ¡°You said something about what I have gone through and how I am not a child.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I did.¡± Clotho wove her fingers across her belly. She still appeared asleep.

    ¡°How did you know that? If other deities see me, would they know that as well?¡±

    Clotho looked at Medusa. ¡°I saw through you because of the type of existence I am. No deity can know what I know by looking at you except two other¡­ beings.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s heart sank. ¡°Who are they?¡±

    Clotho¡¯s eyes dimmed. She faced the ceiling once more and shut her eyes. ¡°Even if I mention their names, you will not recognise them just as you did not recognise mine when I introduced myself.¡±

    ¡°But what if¡­¡± Medusa wove her trembling fingers. ¡°What if I come across them or they find me out?¡±

    ¡°That is a probability that is highly unlikely,¡± Clotho said. ¡°And even if it were to happen, allow it to be a problem for the future. What¡¯s important is how well you use now, Medusa.¡± The corner of her lips kicked up in a subtle smile. ¡°Who knows? If you¡¯re well prepared, you may be able to protect yourself from high deities.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s head swam. The casual way the goddess said those words. ¡°Please, do not say impossible things.¡±

    A mortal attempting to protect themselves from deities was like a carp swallowing the sea.

    ¡°Impossible things. Is that what you think?¡± Clotho faced Medusa fully and propped her head on her fist. Her soft smile remained. ¡°What if I told you there is a way?¡±

    The notion was absolutely ridiculous. Medusa clenched her fingers tighter to hide their trembling. ¡°Do not lie to me.¡±

    ¡°You continue to insult me, child.¡± Clotho shook her head as her eyes turned sad. ¡°Can you not make deductions from what I shared with you? Do you think only lesser gods and mortals hold a grudge against high gods? I acknowledge your suffering, but understand that billions have suffered in the hands of deities for thousands of years.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Medusa was suddenly at a loss for what to say.

    What the goddess said was true, but her pain was personal. Medusa was no champion for the weak or betrayed. ¡°My suffering is personal to me and I will not feel shame for being consumed by it.¡±

    Medusa had no care for this place. Cosmolith could spontaneously combust and she would dance in the flames.

    ¡°I see.¡± Clotho took her goblet once more, attempted to take a sip and frowned when she noticed it was empty. She took Medusa¡¯s abandoned cup and drank from it. ¡°But I understand how you feel.¡±

    Medusa deeply doubted that. ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Clotho¡¯s gaze grew serious. ¡°And for the first time in a very long time, I glimpsed a possibility to set things right when I saw you at the cliff.¡±

    ¡°You seem not to be joking, but let me remind you that I am mortal and my enemies are undying psychopaths.¡±

    Clotho waved away Medusa¡¯s words. ¡°A mortal born to two deities? Where has that ever happened? Can a mortal scream like you did at the cliff?¡±

    Medusa frowned when the goddess¡¯s words registered. That scream at the cliff was beyond weird. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    Could it be that she was not mortal? But that made no sense. Medusa had tasted death five times. Deities can¡¯t die. She felt mortal through and through. There was no¡ª

    The sharp sound of a clap halted Medusa¡¯s rampaging thoughts.

    ¡°Do not burden your mind,¡± Clotho said. ¡°What you need to know will come to you at the right time.¡±

    But it was hard not to wonder. Really, what was that shout at the cliff? Not once in Medusa¡¯s other lives had she experienced something like that. ¡°H-how do you know I will know at the right time?¡±

    ¡°Because I am Moirai Clotho,¡± the goddess answered with an easy shrug. ¡°I only caught a glimpse of your potential, but what I saw was enough to convince me.¡±

    ¡°You speak as if there is a way I can be strong.¡±

    ¡°Speak fully, not in halves,¡± Clotho said with a subtle smile. ¡°Say what you wish to do.¡±

    Stupid hope winked on like a dot of light in deep darkness. ¡°You speak as if there is a way I can go against the will of high deities.¡±

    ¡°There are possibilities and risks¡ªrisks of terrifying proportions.¡± Clotho''s dopey eyes burned with a fervent light. ¡°But with you, for the first time, I see a sturdy thread of hope.¡±

    Those words ignited reckless hope. Medusa no longer cared if it was stupid. She would take the littlest of chances.

    ¡°Is there¡­¡± Medusa¡¯s heart thumped heavily. ¡°Is there a way to kill a high god?¡± She whispered.

    A wicked grin curved Clotho¡¯s lips. The action gave her face a conniving look that strangely did not terrify Medusa.

    ¡°It¡¯s not too early to train your courage. Speak up, Medusa. Let my walls and constellations hear you.¡±

    ¡°Is there a way to kill a high god?¡± Medusa¡¯s voice was stronger, firmer.

    ¡°I told you before.¡± Clotho raised her goblet in salute, her sly grin still in place. ¡°You are full of possibilities, wildly beautiful and brutal possibilities. Yes, there is a way you can kill a high god, but before you run, you must crawl. Survival first, dear girl. Survival first.¡±

 5. A Prayer For Death

    All the while Medusa made her way up the elevated slope to her family villa, she considered her encounter with Clotho from every conceivable angle.

    The paved stone ground beneath her bare feet was warm from the early morning sun, and her muscles were screaming from fatigue. Walking uphill after speed swimming to and fro the length she did was no small task. That her ten-year-old body managed to maintain a steady pace had more to do with her stubborn will and the need to punish herself.

    Antonii was dead because of her. Just yesterday, he had suggested they move.

    Was that death¡¯s warning? Could Antonii already sense the end? Though a mortal, he possessed an air of percipient mystery that Medusa could never make sense of. Whenever she mentioned it, he would laugh and say, ¡°I''m a regular man. Ten fingers. Ten toes.¡±

    What an agonising waste. Antonii deserved life, unlike her. Medusa hugged herself and bit the inside of her lower lip.

    Bear it down. You must bear it down.

    And what was that strange power Medusa manifested at the cliff? Clotho did not answer when she asked. Instead, the goddess had instructed her to return home and visit the cave around the same time the next day.

    Shutting her eyes, Medusa released a long breath.

    There was a way to kill gods.

    It was still hard to digest. This opportunity was even better than ending her life. Though Clotho said she should focus on survival, the knowledge that gods could die was enough to give Medusa some relief.

    Whatever it took, she would do it. Whatever the sacrifice, she would give it. Only after giving her all would she be able to face Antonii when death finally came for her.

    ¡°Medusa,¡± called a panicked voice from ahead.

    A stocky woman in an off-white himation garment hurried down the steep paved way. As she drew closer, Medusa recognised her as one of the household servants. Her name was Galene, if she remembered correctly, and in Medusa¡¯s first life, she had been in charge of overseeing the servants who looked after her.

    Medusa neither liked nor disliked the woman.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± Galene¡¯s eyes widened when she took in Medusa¡¯s state. She turned her this way and that. ¡°Why are you barefoot? Did you go swimming? And so early? You made us worry. Half the servants were searching for you.¡±

    Medusa said nothing. To hell with pretending to be a ten-year-old. The only time she would ever use that card was when it benefited her. At the moment, it did not. Walking around Galene, Medusa resumed her trek. She tensed up when the servant lifted her and began huffing up the side steps.

    ¡°We have to hurry and wash you up before the masters have their breakfast. Have you forgotten it¡¯s your birthday?¡± There was a concerned note in Galene¡¯s voice.

    The irony of returning to her first life in the month of the peacock. There would be a pretentious birthday breakfast with Medusa¡¯s parents present.

    Every year before Medusa was sent to Athena''s temple, she met her parents no more than five times. The encounters were always superficial, but her previous naive self had treasured every moment.

    ¡°Please, do not run off like this. You made me worry.¡± Galene''s hold tightened across Medusa''s back.

    Medusa stared ahead, vision bouncing with Galene¡¯s hurried gait. The servant smelled faintly of tallow, and her dark hair was held in a thick braid that swayed between her masculine shoulders.

    Trying to recall how she acted around servants was tiring so Medusa gave up on that. Her encounter with them had been shallow at best, and she would make no effort to change that this time. As for her parents, her memory was intact, and it was those memories she could use to manipulate them to her benefit.

    Soon, they made it to Medusa¡¯s bedroom where a bath awaited. Two more servants appeared with an assortment of bath ointments, her garment for the day, hair accessories and a pair of sandals. All the while they washed, dressed and placed her before the mirror, Medusa remained mute.

    Now that Medusa thought of it, she had no friends when she was little. The servants had largely ignored her, and her parents had been¡­ her parents. Her sisters had been away at Athena¡¯s temple since before she was born, and she had spent her days being a carefree air-headed child, sheltered and grossly unprepared for the harshness of the real world.

    ¡°There.¡± One of the servants working on her hair said with a satisfied smile. The look of awe on their faces repulsed Medusa. ¡°You are the most beautiful child in all of Greece.¡±

    Instead of glaring as she itched to, Medusa looked away and nodded. They made her wear a light green flowing chiton with gold ornaments on each shoulder. Her dark hair, brushed to a shine, fell to her back, and a woven band of golden leaves and vines rested over her brow like a crown. But her eyes were dead.

    Medusa earnestly hoped she could fake child-like happiness before her parents, though she was beginning to fear that would be impossible.

    ¡°Both of you, leave,¡± Galene said to the remaining servants.

    Silence stretched with only Medusa and Galene in the room.

    Leaning into the scoop back of her chair, Medusa did nothing to break the silence.

    ¡°Child,¡± Galene said in a gentle voice. ¡°What saddens you? You have not been yourself all morning.¡±

    The concern in Galene''s voice was a knife to Medusa¡¯s chest. There was no one she could share her sorrow with and no room to freely grieve in this place. How would she explain to Galene her loss? How every action she took was a paper-thin shield barely holding up against a gale of crushing grief.

    Galene gasped and knelt before Medusa. ¡°You are crying. Dear child...¡±

    Large cracks formed across the walls of Medusa''s restraint.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Galene¡¯s brow bunched. ¡°Tell me what worries you.¡±

    My husband is dead. I had a baby and a dog. They are dead, too. They took my life. I thought I had escaped, but they found me and took everything. Now I am back here.

    Medusa shook her head, unable to form words. She was ruining everything with her sobbing, but try as she may, she couldn¡¯t stop the tears. Galene drew her into a tight embrace and began humming a comforting tune. ¡°Do not weep. You will be fine.¡± She swept a large palm down Medusa¡¯s trembling back. ¡°You will be fine.¡±

    Though it took a while, Medusa¡¯s tears finally ceased. Galene pulled away but kept her hands on Medusa¡¯s shoulders.

    Medusa noticed for the first time how kind Galene''s eyes appeared. Antonii had kind eyes, too. Blinking repeatedly, she fought against the rise of fresh tears.

    ¡°Will you tell me what happened?¡±

    Sighing, Medusa dropped her gaze. ¡°I had a terrible dream. When I woke up, I took a swim.¡± Her mind was a mess, and she was too tired to think up a more elaborate lie.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Do you want to say a prayer at the shrine?¡±

    Medusa shut her eyes immediately. She did not wish for Galene to see the volcanic rage that simple statement triggered.

    Oh, she remembered her deep admiration for the goddess Athena¡ªhow her parents had succumbed to Medusa¡¯s desire to set up a small shrine in honour of the goddess at one of the back gardens. How profoundly naive. A prayer to Athena was a prayer for death.

    Instead of opening her eyes, Medusa shook her head. She would have to have her birthday breakfast with puffy red eyes. ¡°Like you said, I will be fine.¡± Medusa got off the chair and met Galene¡¯s gentle gaze. ¡°I will pray alone later.¡±

    Making her way down the corridors to the dining room with Galene in tow, Medusa took in her surroundings with calculated disinterest. The more she looked, the more familiar everything felt.

    Owl symbols were etched over doorposts¡ªa sign of her parents¡¯ respect for Athena. The floor was covered with rough marble tiles, and polished ornate vases marked every corner along with some vibrant house plants. Her footsteps slowed as she walked past a lush quadrangle garden with tall statues and bubbling water fountains.

    Perhaps Medusa appreciated the scenery more because she saw it with adult eyes. Unlike her first life where she played away her time, she longed to hide in one of these gardens and lose herself in memories of Antonii and Rico. But what Clotho suggested made it impossible to drown in her sorrow. Now, her goal was to explore the possibility of surviving and eventually learning how to kill gods.

    The towering doors that led to the dining room were already open. A feeling of Deja Vu came when Medusa stepped in. She blinked at the low, ironically intimate table and three reclining chairs. Her father would sit at the head. Mother would sit to his right. And Medusa would be seated across from her mother.

    ¡°I will inform the masters that you have come,¡± Galene said before hurrying away.

    Walking to the window, Medusa took in the landscape. Since their private dining room was located in the northern wing, there was a distant view of the city nestled in the Hesperides valley.

    The only time Medusa passed through that city was when she was carted off to Athena¡¯s temple at fourteen. Then, she had been too giddy with the excitement of serving Athena as a priestess to even look past the curtained window and see the life of the people.

    ¡°Medusa,¡± said an airy familiar voice from the door. ¡°Goodwill on your day of birth, my beautiful child!¡±

    Medusa turned in time to see Ceto breeze in and hurry her way. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you in forever. Come, let me hold you.¡± Ceto enveloped Medusa in a tight embrace. She smelled of red roses and the luxurious material of her silk chiton rubbed against Medusa''s cheek.

    Feeling neither warmth nor disgust, Medusa dutifully wrapped her arms around Ceto.

    A movement over Ceto''s shoulders pulled Medusa¡¯s attention to the door where Phorcys, her father, was leaning against the frame with his arms folded. A frown touched his brow when their eyes met.

    Instead of giving Medusa a birthday blessing like Ceto did, Phorcys strolled to the table and settled in.

    Finally releasing her, Ceto fluttered to her seat and immediately turned her attention to her husband. She began chatting brightly in theos tongue, a language only deities could understand and speak.

    After Galene helped Medusa to her dining couch, she poured wine into her cup and diluted it with a generous amount of water.

    All the while, Medusa could feel her father¡¯s eyes on her. Heavy. Probing.

    Could he see through her? Clotho had assured her that the possibility was slim to none.

    ¡°It is time for the libation,¡± Phorcys said in a low voice.

    Ceto laughed, the sound airy and bright. ¡°Certainly.¡± She faced Medusa and offered that patronising smile adults loved to give children. ¡°Say a prayer of thanks to Athena.¡±

    Medusa looked from Ceto¡¯s expectant face to her father''s. How could she explain that she would rather rip off her tongue than offer thanks and praise to Athena?

    With a shaky hand, Medusa gripped her cup and lifted it. The memorised words floated in her head. In silence, her parents waited but no words came.

    Cocking her head to the right, Ceto observed Medusa. ¡°Something is not right.¡±

    Though Medusa¡¯s heart rate quickened, it was not at a thundering pace that indicated fear. Even if she were publicly whipped, nothing would make her say a prayer to Athena.

    ¡°Dear,¡± Ceto faced her husband, ¡°do you see it too?¡±

    ¡°Very well, we shall not give the libation.¡± Phorcys dropped his goblet and reached for a round bread amid the platter.

    Ceto appeared scandalised. ¡°Why? You know we ought to train her in these things¡­¡± More words spilled out in theos tongue.

    ¡°Skipping libation is not an offence.¡± Phorcys focused on Medusa. He was no longer frowning. ¡°It appears you have been crying. What bothers you?¡±

    Medusa had not expected her father to be the concerned one. Her memory of him was sparse. He and Ceto were hardly present in her life. To them, she was another offering to the great Athena.

    In Medusa¡¯s first life, after she was cursed and fled to the Island of Sarpedon, she occasionally wondered about her sisters and parents. What had they done when they heard of Athena¡¯s Judgement? After Perseus took her head, did they care? Even if they did care, her parents were low deities¡ªpowerless against the high gods and their twisted take on justice.

    ¡°I had a nightmare about Aunt Phorcydes. She died.¡± The lie came easily and Medusa readily went with the flow.

    Phorcydes was Phorcys¡¯ only sister. The woman possessed the appearance of an ever-happy crone which was a weird occurrence for deities. The one time Medusa met her when she was six, Phorcydes had been warm, friendly and sage-like.

    Ceto first blinked at Medusa before bursting into raucous laughter. Phorcys, on the other hand, maintained a straight face and said nothing until his wife ceased her laughter.

    ¡°Medusa,¡± he said with gentle patience. ¡°Deities cannot die.¡±

    ¡°But I know what I saw,¡± Medusa said in earnest. She threw in all her acting skill, tears welling up and worry bunching her brow.

    They may permit a visit if Medusa acted well enough. The thought of leaving her parents'' villa and staying with Clotho to learn all she needed to was heady beyond belief. More lies poured out. "The whole of Hesperides was burning and she was trapped because she is so old. I must visit her, father. I must. I can say more prayers and set up an altar for her protection.¡±

    This time both parents frowned. Medusa could understand their confusion, after all, she had never been close to Phorcydes. If they couldn¡¯t see she was an adult, her sorrow would simply be that of a concerned child who was a little too devoted to her belief in Athena.

    When Medusa saw the hesitation in their gaze, she threw in her last attack. ¡°Please, father.¡±

    ¡°Have you forgotten you are mortal? Did you forget why we do not let you out of the villa?¡± Phorcys said in that level voice. ¡°There are too many dangers out there. For a mortal, anything could kill you.¡±

    Ceto nodded with great vigour. "Yes, your father speaks the truth." She reached for a cluster of red grapes and popped one into her mouth.

    Pouting but screaming on the inside, Medusa dropped her gaze. ¡°I know I am mortal. But I trust Athena to protect me, and Aunt Phorcydes lives within Hesperides. I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°She lives in the bogs,¡± Phorcy cut in. ¡°The far outskirts of the city. Strange occurrences happen there.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°That is enough, Medusa." Phorcys'' voice was unyielding. "I will no longer hear this.¡±

    Medusa nodded with a pout. ¡°Yes, father.¡±

    Silence reigned over the meal. Every mouthful was ash but Medusa mindlessly chewed anyway. Not eating meant a weaker body, and she doubted a weak body could do anything against the gods.

    ¡°What gift do you want?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Medusa looked up from her plate. Phorcys was washing his hands in a silver basin a servant presented, his attention fixed on the action.

    ¡°I asked what gift you wish to have. Is today not your birthday?¡±

    That was true. In Medusa¡¯s first life, her father had asked the same question. She had begged for a statue of Athena slaying a beast. Within a month it was provided; a tall thing set up just outside her makeshift shrine at the back.

    ¡°I do not wish for anything.¡± Medusa was doing it¡ªnot acting like a child¡ªbut her soul was suddenly exhausted. Let her parents think whatever they wish.

    ¡°Do not be sad,¡± Phorcys said as he methodically wiped his hands with an offered napkin. He still did not look up from his careful action. ¡°I shall prepare a gift for you all the same.¡±

    ¡°Oh, darling,¡± Ceto said in a dreamy voice, adoring eyes fixed on Phorcys. ¡°You still warm my heart after all these years.¡± She turned to Medusa. ¡°I shall send a gift as well. Do not be sad for your aunt. Deities can¡¯t die.¡±

    When both parents left, Medusa remained seated. Galene was waiting to her right.

    ¡°Deities can¡¯t die, huh?¡± Medusa mumbled as she stared at her empty plate.

    Their words were coals to the fire of her determination.

    Flashes of memories from the night Poseidon violated her returned with vengeful persistence. Gritting her teeth, Medusa¡¯s grip around her three-pronged fork tightened.

    The shaking began¡ªthat paralysing terror and absolute helplessness.

    Poseidon was first on Medusa¡¯s kill list. Then Athena.

    As for Perseus, he was mortal and there were myriad ways to kill mortals.

    Like a warning, Clotho¡¯s words returned.

    ¡°...before you run, you must crawl. Survival first.¡±

    Sighing, Medusa dropped her fork. ¡°Very well. I''ll crawl.¡±

 6. It Kills Children

    It happened on an uneventful afternoon on the island of Seriphos.

    Dictys¡ªPerseus¡¯ uncle and the Island head¡ªhad left his smallest blacksmith shop in Perseus¡¯ care just after dawn. He was visiting the neighbouring Island of Suda to purchase more red iron ore and to hire a new blacksmith to man the shop.

    The last blacksmith had quit to train for the Fate of Heroes games, hoping to catch the eye of a deity. Dictys had called Heber a muscle-brained idiot, certain he''d die the moment the arena horns blared.

    Perseus wasn¡¯t so sure. Despite not being a blood carrier, Heber was already impressively strong, with muscles to match his fierce eyes. Once, he fought off eight men outside the Singing Sailors tavern¡ªeven intoxicated, his strength and coordination were remarkable. If a deity notices him and makes him a blood carrier, his power won¡¯t be something to scoff at.

    ¡°At least two javelins before I return,¡± Dictys had instructed with a pat on Perseus¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Work on your breathing while at it.¡±

    Several horai after and just past noon, a shrill scream ripped Perseus from his hammering trance.

    Perseus froze up, leather-gloved hand tightening around the javelin. The only other person in the shop with him was Linos, his ten-year-old brother. He had sent him to the store to count coals when he wouldn¡¯t shut up about wanting to help in some way.

    And that scream. It sounded like it came from the store¡ªthe only other room in the cramped shop that barely spanned fifteen ankona wide.

    Annoyance mixed with Perseus¡¯ rising panic as he lifted the javelin. The problem wasn¡¯t the weight of the weapon but the fact that its red-hot tip was losing heat. He would have to melt the javelin and start over after this. Dictys had no tolerance for less-than-perfect products.

    ¡°Linos?¡± Perseus approached the store door.

    There was a strange silence about¡ªnot just in the shop but outside as well.

    ¡°Linos,¡± Perseus called again as he pushed the store door open.

    Panic spiked to horror when Perseus took in Linos¡¯ state. He was sitting on the floor, back against the wall with deep gashes across his left leg.

    Something had gotten Linos¡ªsomething wicked enough to leave wounds that exposed bones.

    There was a trail of blood that led to¡ª

    ¡°No.¡± Perseus took an instinctive step back, mind rejecting what his eyes were seeing.

    A replica of Linos, but this¡­ this apparition had an abnormally long arm tipped with sharp blood-stained claws.

    The creature blinked up at Perseus and grinned. Lethal fangs flashed.

    ¡°Impossible,¡± Perseus muttered as his thoughts turned sluggish.

    How had a mormo found its way into the store? The only window in the space was barred and tiny.

    ¡°Brother, I cannot move.¡±

    Linos'' words jolted Perseus from his shock.

    Snatching Linos by the neck of his tunic, Perseus ripped him from the store and into the main shop.

    Before Perseus could conceive a next move, the mormo stumbled after them on fast feet. Its spindly arm dragged along as its transformation began. Human disguise rippled away and in its place was a pinkish hunched creature that stood erect.

    It screeched at Perseus, lips peeling away and exposing even more rows of venom-laced teeth.

    ¡°Stay back!¡± Perseus swung the javelin at the lanky beast.

    Instead of backing down, drool slid down the mormo¡¯s chin as its red bulbous eyes darted from the heated javelin to Linos¡¯ wheezing form behind Perseus. There was a troubling intelligent glint in the beast¡¯s eyes.

    The mormo¡¯s talons scraped across the floor as it took a bold step forward. There was an acrid smell in the air¡­ like burnt flesh mixed with something rotten. Perseus breathed through his mouth as a bead of sweat slid down his forehead and into his left eye. It stung.

    ¡°Stay back.¡± The javelin trembled in Perseus'' grip as frustration surged. How was it that all he learnt from his training seemed useless in the face of this terror?

    Mormos talons secrete even deadlier poison than what dripped from their fangs. One wrong move and Perseus would end up like Linos, drained of vitality and on the brink of death. The paralysing knowledge worsened his panic.

    "Beast attack!" The shout beyond the shop''s ajar door was followed by chilling shrieks, horrified cries and the sound of running.

    The island bell went off in a series of frantic clangs.

    It took all the self-control Perseus possessed not to look out the window to his left.

    ¡°Brother, I cannot feel my legs.¡± Linos whimpered.

    ¡°Let me think,¡± Perseus whisper-yelled through gritted teeth.

    From what Perseus had learned about mormos, they loathed heat which made this occurrence even stranger. A mormo hunting in a sweltering blacksmith shop was beyond odd.

    And there was another problem. The tip of the javelin was still losing heat. If that continues, nothing would stop the mormo from charging forward and attacking.

    But this terror Perseus was feeling. Even though this was his first time confronting a mormo, this terror eating at his courage was shameful.

    I am no ordinary fourteen-year-old. I am better than my peers¡ªstronger and sharper. This terror I feel is a lie.

    The self-talk helped to calm Perseus¡¯ racing heart. If he could tackle the beast and aim for its heart, maybe he would be lucky. Maybe.

    Not allowing a moment to rethink his plan, Perseus charged ahead, the hot tip of the javelin aimed at the beast''s chest.

    As if waiting for the strike, the mormo gave no struggle even as the force of their collision sent them careening past the open door and into the chaotic streets.

    Perseus hit his mark.

    Eyes watering from the rancid steam rising from the stab point, Perseus pushed the sizzling javelin deeper into the beast''s chest until it stopped moving.

    Tearing himself away from the beast, Perseus watched with no small confusion as the mormo withered to ash.

    Should it be that easy to kill a mormo? And Perseus'' body. He observed his limbs, torso and face. No wounds. No sign of venom doing its job.

    Frowning, Perseus stared at his trembling hands. It went too smoothly. Perhaps, Zeus was watching over him.

    Someone bumped Perseus¡¯ shoulder as they ran past, dragging his focus to the mayhem around him.

    Something too fast for Perseus¡¯ eyes to follow gave pursuit. The fleeing man barely had the time to cry out before the beast was upon him.

    A wild feasting began.

    Frozen, Perseus watched the scene, unable to tear his eyes away. Torn flesh. Spilled innards. So much blood. The sight triggered a memory and with it came a different kind of terror.

    Fear is for the weak. I have the blood of Zeus. I can¡ª

    Nausea twisted Perseus¡¯ guts and pumped up his throat. He turned away as what he had for lunch splattered upon the stone ground.

    Panting, Perseus swiped an arm across his lips and looked around. His heart sputtered at the rampant carnage.

    A lamias attack. The grey-skinned bald creatures were fast. They ripped into all they fell upon, tearing through flesh and drinking blood with frenzied glee. But in the madness, Perseus did not spot a single mormo¡ªLinos!

    Perseus hurried back to the shop.

    Linos was beginning to foam at the mouth, body twitching as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

    Perseus stood over his brother, hands trembling as he struggled to think up a solution.

    Mormos were venomous bloodsucking creatures that had a singular taste for children. But mormos were also known not to reside in the Six Islands. So why here and why Linos?

    ¡°I dare you to die,¡± Perseus muttered bitterly as he lifted Linos'' stiff body. ¡°I dare you to leave me.¡±

    Perseus stumbled out of the shop.

    The chaos had escalated, further worsening Perseus'' confusion and dread. Linos must not die. If he could make it to the medicine shop, maybe¡ª

    A woman rushed past Perseus and in her trail was a soft foreign scent. Wielding two daggers, she charged at a lamias feasting on a corpse. Two quick slashes and all that remained was ash.

    When she darted to the left, Perseus spied a thin face covering that exposed her eyes alone.

    A priestess from Athena¡¯s temple.

    Bone-melting relief washed over Perseus. The priestess could heal his brother. He had just stepped forward when two more similarly dressed women rushed past.

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    But they had snakes for hair. Gorgons. Since when did beasts serve as priestesses in Athena¡¯s temple?

    There was a ringing in Perseus¡¯ ears. He clutched his spasming brother tighter as revulsion muddied his hope at the priestesses¡¯ divine appearance.

    The snake-haired women joined the first, darting through the square as they deftly cut down lamias.

    Gritting his teeth, Perseus turned and ran to the medicine shop. He halted when he saw it. The town''s only doctor lay dead at the threshold of his shop.

    ¡°Curses!¡± Rage blasted through Perseus. Curse this day. Curse my existence. He must have been mad to imagine Zeus was watching over him.

    To think I carry Zeus¡¯ blood. Here I am, my brother dying in my arms. Weak. Pathetic.

    And it was true. Perseus had been so consumed hammering away that he barely noticed a beast slip in and hunt his brother. Some blood carrier I am. ¡°Weak. Pathetic,¡± he echoed the berating words.

    Order returned a short time after the priestesses'' appearance. People no longer screamed and ran about, now their focus shifted to the priestesses. They wore looks of awestruck gratitude, none seeming to care that the other two priestesses were gorgons.

    ¡°Hail Athena. Revered are her priestesses!¡± The cry mixed with the wails of those who lost loved ones.

    Others around Perseus fell to their knees and sent prayers of gratitude to Athena.

    One look at Linos¡¯ face and Perseus¡¯ knees gave out. His complexion had turned blue. His arms flayed as Perseus hugged him to his chest.

    Tears wouldn''t come, and the bitterness in Perseus¡¯ soul doubled.

    He isn¡¯t dead. There is no way he is dead. A beast didn¡¯t take another¡ªno!

    When sandaled feet entered Perseus¡¯ vision, he looked up.

    The first priestess gazed down at Linos with a compassionate light in her eyes. ¡°Oh, poor child. A mormo must have done this.¡±

    Her hair was like spun gold and her eyes, the only part of her face exposed, were the lightest shade of brown and appeared kind. There was a muted glow about her that was most unnatural. Perseus blinked in sluggish awe.

    Kneeling before Linos, she observed his wound. The lacerations across his shin were beginning to ooze putrid black blood. ¡°He is on the brink of death.¡± Sympathy softened her voice. ¡°What happened to the mormo that did this?¡±

    ¡°I killed it.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± There was a note of surprise in her voice.

    When the two gorgon priestesses joined the first priestess, Perseus tensed up. It was at the tip of his tongue to tell them to back away.

    ¡°Sisters," the golden-haired priestess stood, "let¡¯s pray to Athena. Perhaps she may show this child mercy and heal him.¡± She offered the two her hands.

    Perseus watched their joined hands. The gorgons had sharp pointed fingernails but other than that, their hands appeared normal. From the neck down, they appeared human. But beasts were beasts.

    Clenching his teeth, Perseus resisted the urge to look at their heads. Even now, nausea pressed at the back of his throat but he swallowed it down.

    Athena knew best. If she wished to keep gorgons as priestesses, so be it. Perseus would be a fool to reject their help. Linos was frail but he was his only family save for their uncle.

    The prayer began, their voices rising and mixing with melodious harmony. Perseus couldn¡¯t understand the lyrics but was caught up in a strange rapturous feeling.

    Soon, a golden light enveloped the three women and formed an illusion of an armoured woman with dark hair, blazing silver eyes and a glistening plumed helmet.

    Other kneeling villagers around did not react. It seemed he was the only one seeing the sight. Almost as soon as the vision appeared it vanished.

    A cough drew Perseus'' attention to Linos. His complexion was no longer blue, and his leg was smooth as if nothing ever happened. Eyes fluttering open, he stared at the sky before shifting his focus to Perseus.

    ¡°Brother, there was a beast in the store and it looked like me.¡±

    Embracing Linos, Perseus nodded. ¡°I know. I killed it.¡± He whispered fiercely. ¡°I killed the beast and now you are well.¡±

    ¡°Give your thanks to goddess Athena. Your brother was saved by her benevolence,¡± the golden-haired priestess said in a flat voice¡ªa sharp contrast to the former sympathetic note¡ªbefore turning to the next injured villager.

    Perseus mindlessly mumbled the memorised prayer of thanks. All that mattered was that Linos was fine.

    ***

    Later that evening, after Dictys returned from Suda, the five elders of Seriphos sat at his table, eating as they discussed how to recover from the beast attack.

    Though required to sit at the table and silently learn wisdom, Perseus couldn¡¯t resist repeating what he just heard. ¡°Athena¡¯s temple will be built in Seriphos?¡±

    Seriphos, one of six islands of the Helios Sea, had nothing particularly spectacular about it. Temples were mostly located in the main continent''s big cities like Elion, Thebai, Sicili, and chief of all, Athens which housed a staggering thirteen temples dedicated to Athena.

    Why build a temple in Seriphos?

    Athena¡¯s priestesses were best known for visiting obscure islands and villages at least once every two years. Usually, they blessed the lands for harvest, healed the sick and helped to subjugate beasts. Because of this, Athena was one of the most influential gods whose only rival was Poseidon. Zeus was in another sphere entirely.

    Kadmos, a solemn elder who bore only daughters, scowled in Perseus¡¯ direction. ¡°You are to listen and not speak at the table.¡±

    Perseus openly glared at Kadmos.

    Say that to me after you father a son.

    Though hailed as the wisest among the elders, Perseus couldn¡¯t stand the man. And no matter how hard he looked, he couldn¡¯t see the so-called wisdom he was most praised for. There seemed to be perpetual disappointment in his eyes whenever he looked Perseus'' way¡ªlike he could see something wrong in Perseus others couldn''t.

    ¡°Ah, leave the boy.¡± Elder Pallas¡¯ gold tooth flashed as he smiled at Perseus. ¡°It¡¯s shocking, eh? The wise and benevolent Athena chose our obscure island to house her glorious temple.¡±

    Because Elder Pallas always sounded drunk, Perseus could never tell when he was being serious, silly or sarcastic. ¡°I would have preferred Poseidon though,¡± he added with a wink. ¡°The mightily endowed god of the sea who¡ª¡±

    ¡°That does not change the fact that Athena chose Seriphos,¡± Dictys cut in. His expression was grim, and the light from the lamp above cast his face in deep shadows.

    Since Dictys¡¯ return to the island, his expression had been the same¡ªgrim-faced as he took note of the damage. Out of the nearly five thousand people in Seriphos, seventy-three had died. But a greater number had been healed by the priestesses.

    ¡°We must pay our dues,¡± Dictys said in a quiet voice.

    The elders grew silent. Dictys glanced in Perseus¡¯ direction before cutting into his meal and chewing.

    Shifting in his seat, Perseus gulped watered wine from his cup. There was something they weren¡¯t saying, and his gut told him it had to do with him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s look at the bright side,¡± Elder Pallas said, pumping life into the solemn atmosphere with his slurred voice. ¡°Now that a temple will be built on our island, we¡¯ll become a city or even a kingdom. Think of it. Our people will become wealthy. Ah, Yiorgos will die of envy when he hears this.¡±

    Elder Pallas slapped his thigh and laughed. The rest joined in except Elder Kadmus. He slid another glance Perseus'' way and shook his head as if in pity.

    Perseus scowled. If there was one thing he loathed, it was being at the receiving end of pity. He couldn¡¯t wait for the meeting to be over. He needed to check on Linos.

    But the meeting continued to more complex topics. Talks of future trade agreements, grants from the Bank of Athena and the priestesses setting up teleportation bridges.

    Perseus was too caught up in his thoughts to be in awe at the thought of their island possessing instant travel bridges. The elders were keeping something from him and he must discover what it was.

    Later that night, Dictys came to check on sleeping Linos.

    After touching Linos¡¯ forehead to check his temperature, Dictys sighed and pulled away. It was like standing on needles. Dictys was yet to say a word about the beast attack which was odd.

    ¡°Uncle, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

    Swallowing his question, Perseus followed Dictys down the narrow corridor before reaching the last door to their right.

    Dictys¡¯ study was a hallowed room that Perseus was permitted into only three times a year, and always to observe how his uncle handled governing affairs. It was one of the few rooms that possessed four ever-luminescent crystals. The glowing orbs emitted an amber light akin to an oil lamp, but without the heat and twice as bright. Once, his uncle told him that a single crystal cost as much as the island¡¯s yearly budget. The crystals were among the rare treasures Perseus'' family had safeguarded for centuries.

    ¡°Close the door and sit.¡±

    Dictys was a hard man, with a steel sense of discipline¡ªa sharp contrast to Perseus¡¯ father, who lived recklessly and trusted too easily. He paid dearly for that folly. Yes, Perseus admired his late father, but his uncle was ten times the man he could have been.

    On Dictys¡¯ desk were arranged scrolls and twine binder texts, a sealed ink bottle, an already cleaned quill, neatly lined drawing charcoal for his tool illustrations, and a flask of wine within arm¡¯s reach.

    The only roughness Dictys ever showed was when he was hammering away in one of his workshops. When handling his duties as the Island¡¯s head, every detail was addressed with frightening meticulousness. When teaching Perseus obedience, that same meticulousness was reflected to an even more terrifying degree. But it was good¡ªnecessary, in fact. Perseus would rather absorb all that discipline than expose Linos to it.

    Out of the six islands, Seriphos was the most prosperous and organised. The next in line of leadership was Perseus, and he was determined to follow Dictys¡¯ footsteps and even surpass him in excellence.

    But in Perseus¡¯ determination was a twinge of shame. He had handled the situation with the mormo poorly, showing weakness and completely forgetting his basic defence skills in the face of danger. Dictys was yet to say a word about that. After hearing Perseus¡¯ report, he frowned a little and went to oversee the burning of the dead.

    ¡°I will tell you what the other elders were too uncomfortable to say,¡± Dictys began. ¡°Athena choosing us is a blessing. Seriphos will grow into a bustling city once the bridges are set up, and we will swallow up the five islands whether they like it or not. But much more will be expected of me¡± ¡ªhe paused and held Perseus¡¯ gaze¡ª ¡°and you.¡±

    Perseus gulped. ¡°I understand.¡±

    For a non-deity to be the head of a village, city or kingdom, one¡¯s lineage must have a drop of either a low or high deity¡¯s blood. Before Perseus¡¯ father died, he would not stop boasting about how their lineage was privileged to carry the blood of Zeus¡ªthe most revered among the high deities. Perhaps, it was that leaking mouth that caused his eventual demise.

    Perseus had been born with a marking on his back that set him apart even more. His father had mentioned that his great great great grandfather possessed a similar marking and was a mighty warrior who established the Six Islands. Perseus found pride in that knowledge even though he had yet to witness any manifestation of the said power. His father had died a courageous but ordinary man. Dictys was also an ordinary man. Linos had no marking and was weak.

    ¡°The Fate of Heroes,¡± Dictys said with an unreadable expression.

    Perseus frowned. ¡°That was why Heber left us. But the games have not been held in decades.¡±

    Dictys rested his forearms on the desk and wove his fingers. ¡°In the near future, though I am not certain when, you will be required to represent Seriphos in the Fate of Heroes games as one of Athena¡¯s heroes.¡±

    Perseus¡¯ head swam. The highest honour there is. Since legend says that Zeus never puts forth a contender, the next highest god was either Athena or Poseidon.

    ¡°I¡ª¡± Words failed Perseus. Instead of feeling dread at the revelation, a placid feeling of rightness settled over him. This was meant to happen.

    ¡°You must awaken Zeus¡¯ blood,¡± Dictys continued, though Perseus was half-listening. ¡°Those in the past¡­¡±

    There was something Perseus must do¡ªthough he did not yet know what it was¡ªand representing Athena at the Fate of Heroes games would be a starting point.

    Dictys stood and pulled a thin silver chain from his neck, a key hanging as its pendant. After feeling along the wall behind his desk, he paused at a spot and pressed the key into the stone. With a click, a drawer the size of a brick slid out. Retrieving a battered text bound with twine, he slid the hidden drawer back into place before sitting.

    Placing a palm on the small worn book, Dictys met Perseus'' eyes. ¡°You will take this book and study its content daily until the words are etched in the walls of your mind.¡±

    Perseus took the book. The leather was soft with age and its parchment paper had browned, but it was the words written in it that surprised him the most. Absolute gibberish. How was he to understand what he couldn¡¯t even read?

    ¡°Starting tomorrow, Antigoni will double the fire of your training. You may wish for death but you must not die. If you succumb to death, weak Linos will take your place in all areas.¡±

    Terror seized Perseus at the horrifying thought.

    ¡°You know as well as I do that Linos will perish before the gates of the games are even lifted. So, you must live. At the games, you must win and ascend. If you fail and die at the hands of beasts, you prove my brother¡ªyour father¡ªdeserved his end.¡±

    Dictys¡¯ words triggered a volcanic, nearly mindless rage in Perseus. Clenching his fists, he struggled within himself, fighting to suppress his turbulent emotions. Soon, his rage dissipated like mist, replaced by a clarity of mind and purpose.

    Perseus lifted his eyes and hoped to Athena that Dictys saw his burning determination and sincerity. ¡°I will awaken Zeus¡¯ blood and honour my father¡¯s death at the Fate of Heroes.¡±

 7. Where Titans Roam

    Clotho was insane. What else could explain her ridiculous suggestion?

    How could Medusa convince her parents to let her not only visit but stay in Tartarus for at least three years? Three years! Even suggesting visiting the bogs had triggered a vehement refusal from Phorcys. Now Tartarus?

    ¡°She must be insane,¡± Medusa mumbled as she broke through the waves. She wiped water off her face and peered ahead. The beach was deserted to her relief.

    Stay in Tartarus for three years?

    ¡°Hah.¡± Medusa released a dead chuckle as she waded through the gently lapping waves. Though the sun was yet to appear, the sky was already brightening with the promise of a new day.

    But was Tartarus as terrible as rumours suggested? Not according to Clotho. The goddess had claimed that Tartarus was far removed from its reputation. Curiosity was beginning to suppress Medusa¡¯s initial disbelief and terror.

    Medusa hugged herself as she shivered from the chill of the sea breeze. ¡°I must be insane too,¡± she said with a sigh.

    Tartarus was known as one of the four evils of Cosmolith. Even babies knew that thanks to a popular rhyme mothers sang to misbehaving children.

    Beware the second evil, where Titans roam in chains. They¡¯ll crush the heads of children, who dare to disobey.

    When Medusa was five, a tutor had taught her the rhyme which was part of a page-long poem. Then for a whole month, she made Medusa read a heavy volume of The Cursed Beasts of Cosmolith. All the while Medusa suffered through those pages, there was a sadistic glint in the tutor''s eyes.

    The illustrations of the monsters were rendered with such great detail that, despite it being the last thing Medusa wanted, she soaked up every bit of information. Their horrifying appearance, where they lived, and how they hunted. From that day, the terror of beasts latched on to her very soul. Pretty ironic that she ended up being one.

    Nightmares haunted Medusa''s sleep even several months after her father dismissed the tutor. And the first line of that poem stuck because of its catchy tune. There were even moments in her previous lives when she found herself humming the rhyme.

    Despite Tartarus¡¯ reputation of keeping those beasts from mortal lands, Clotho expected Medusa to look her parents in the face and ask that they permit a vacation there. How laughable.

    But Medusa must do it. Not the part about asking her parents to let her stay in Tartarus for three years¡ªthey¡¯d rather die than agree to that¡ªbut finding a way to leave the villa.

    Perhaps she could sneak away without her parents'' notice. Despite Galene¡¯s warning about not going off alone, going to the cliff the second time and taking a dive without a single servant spotting her had been too easy. The trick was to leave before the cock crowed.

    At least Clotho hadn¡¯t entirely left her alone.

    Medusa blinked down at her hands. A tiny rune in the shape of an inverted V with a dot at its zenith marked the centre of each palm.

    Clotho assured Medusa that no one would see the marking unless they had also sworn an honour oath to her. According to the deity, the rune would enable two-way communication between them, unlike the one-way communication they had before. Clotho had said nothing about the function of the other identical rune.

    Was Medusa being naive? Clotho had made an honour oath, but trusting the deity to this extent had to be foolish.

    Feeling eyes on her, Medusa looked ahead and did a double take. ¡°Father?¡±

    Phorcys¡¯ face was unreadable as he beckoned to Medusa.

    What was this? Was he angry? Could he tell she had been visiting Clotho?

    As Medusa drew nearer, her nervousness eased a little. Even though Phorcys¡¯ expression was flat, she could sense no anger from him.

    The purple himation Phorcys wore over his chiton rustled in the breeze, and at his feet was a box covered with a white cloth. There was an odd majesty about how her father lived his life, a trait Medusa never observed in other gods she encountered in her first life.

    Maybe it was how Phorcys carried himself, like nothing could ever ruffle his calm and everything was beneath his feet. Or it could be his physical appearance that gave the effect.

    Medusa took after Phorcys¡¯ dark hair and green eyes, but her skin was fairer¡ªan appearance she shared with her mother. Like Medusa, Phorcys was incredibly good-looking, and Ceto clung to him perhaps in part awe and disbelief that they managed to remain married for nearly eighty years.

    Maintaining an innocent demeanour, Medusa hastened her steps and offered a customary bow when she reached Phorcys. ¡°Father, I give my greetings.¡±

    ¡°Do you enjoy morning swims?¡± He asked in response. ¡°This is the second time I¡¯ve observed this behaviour.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s heart launched within her chest. He must have noticed her yesterday, too. Damn it. What to say? Why was it hard to come up with a quick answer?

    Phorcys sat on the sand and patted his side. ¡°Sit.¡±

    So unexpected was the gesture that Medusa gawked, unable to immediately comply. It seemed unimaginable that Phorcys could sit on the ground¡ªlike witnessing an unspeakable travesty. ¡°Huh?¡±

    A small smile, though slow in appearance, began in Phorcys¡¯ eyes before ending on his lips. It was like looking at a different person. Medusa blinked hard in disbelief.

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    ¡°Do not look so shocked, Medusa. Sit with me.¡±

    In a daze, Medusa did as he asked.

    The world was upside down. Something must have shifted. What was happening? No way was she sitting on the sand next to her father.

    In all the lives Medusa lived, some things remained constant. Every parent she had had been nonchalant. And none of them paid particular attention to her. This sudden interest¡­ Medusa was at a loss on how to act.

    ¡°I have not swum in the ocean in two hundred years.¡±

    Medusa whipped her attention to Phorcys. How was it possible for him to stay away from the ocean for two centuries when he was the deity of the deep? ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Politics,¡± Phorcys answered simply. He suddenly chuckled. ¡°I must not worry my child with unfamiliar concepts. Are you still sad?¡±

    Why was he asking her that? Oh! Medusa recalled yesterday¡¯s breakfast. ¡°No. Swimming made me feel better.¡± And it was true. Swimming to Clotho¡¯s domain and back was tiring but enjoyable.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± There was a wistful note in his voice.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That shouldn''t come as a surprise. You are the daughter of your father after all.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± The question slipped out before Medusa could stop it.

    ¡°I am the god of the deep. It would be strange if you didn¡¯t enjoy the ocean.¡±

    Medusa nodded. In silence they sat, staring at the lapping waves as the morning sun rose.

    As Medusa watched a stone crab creep past, a question banged in her head, begging to be let out. Though Clotho had warned her not to act out of character, it felt impossible to stop herself from asking.

    ¡°Father?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Phorcys¡¯ gaze was still fixed on the ocean. He appeared sad.

    ¡°Why am I mortal?¡±

    Shutting his eyes with a deep sigh, Phorcys remained silent for a moment. When he opened his eyes, there was no hesitation, no guile that Medusa could see. He shook his head. ¡°I do not know.¡±

    Medusa believed him. Maybe she was a fool to do so, but believing otherwise¡ªthat her parents cursed her. No. That would be too much for her heart to take.

    ¡°I have thought of many ways to answer that question because I suspected you would ask one day.¡± His voice was low and solemn. ¡°I am sorry that I do not have the answer.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Father,¡± Medusa mumbled morosely. What had she been expecting? Her entire life was full of more questions than answers anyway.

    ¡°Do you wish to see something interesting?¡± Phorcys asked. Though he was not smiling, his visage was so open and warm that Medusa found herself nodding eagerly.

    Grabbing a fistful of sand, Phorcys mumbled in Theos tongue and breathed into it before opening his hand.

    Sand in the shape of a small cauliflower jellyfish floated off Phorcys¡¯ palm. It bobbed in front of Medusa¡¯s face before travelling a short distance and disintegrating.

    ¡°Whoa.¡± Medusa clapped in genuine amazement. She had never witnessed her parents manifest any sort of power despite being ant deities. Seeing Phorcys¡¯ trick was beyond fascinating. Perhaps, if she unlocked her powers she could perform cool tricks too.

    Come back to your senses, Medusa.

    Medusa''s face fell as her mood dimmed. There was no space for wishful thinking. A lot was on the line. She had to find a way to convince her parents to let her off this villa for at least three years.

    How do I get out of here? Think, Medusa.

    ¡°I mentioned getting you a gift.¡± Phorcys retrieved the covered box and placed it before her. ¡°Open it.¡±

    Warmth unfurled in Medusa¡¯s chest at the sight; the feeling was similar to what she felt whenever Antonii gave her a surprise gift.

    Medusa gasped when she pulled the cloth away. Curled in the corner of the cage was the cutest creature she had ever seen. It resembled a cub of a lynx and sea otter mix. Its coat was grey with dark stripes, and its face looked like a kitten¡¯s with tufted ears, but its body was long and it spotted a tapered tail. When it blinked its dark eyes open and gazed at Medusa, her heart squeezed.

    ¡°What is this creature?¡± Medusa squealed in pure delight. ¡°I love it!¡± She had never seen something this adorable in The Cursed Beasts of Cosmolith.

    Phorcys released a deep chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s called a western water cat. Very rare.¡±

    Medusa''s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. Then she remembered Rico and her eyes began to water. The urge to cry pressed at the back of her throat as she reached into the cage with trembling hands and cradled the small warm creature. When it mewled, her heart squeezed again.

    ¡°What would you name it?¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡± Medusa hiccupped as she hugged the cub and swept a hand down its sleek fur. It wiggled a little before settling comfortably over her shoulder.

    ¡°Why are you crying?¡± There was panic in Phorcys¡¯ voice. He wiped Medusa¡¯s tears with his thumb. When more tears flowed, worry bunched his brow. ¡°Did my gift fail to lift your spirit?¡±

    Medusa burst into laughter at Phorcys¡¯ flustered words and expression. How could she explain her crying was because she suddenly recalled little Rico?

    ¡°I¡¯m crying because I love your gift.¡± Medusa beamed at Phorcys.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Phorcys blinked before smiling too. ¡°I¡¯m happy you love it. What will you call him?¡±

    ¡°Rico. I¡¯ll name him Rico.¡±

    Phorcys frowned. ¡°What does Rico mean? I know nothing and no one by that name.¡±

    Medusa giggled. ¡°I just thought of the name when I looked at him.¡± She held up the water cat and rubbed his cold nose against hers. She giggled again when he licked her nose. Light from the early morning sun caught the collar hanging around its neck.

    ¡°The collar helps it comfortably live on land.¡± Phorcys touched the coin-sized jewelled tag hanging from the collar. ¡°He¡¯s only two months old, but they can grow as big as a spotted mountain bear when fully grown.¡±

    ¡°No way!¡± This tiny pocket of cuteness could grow that big?

    Phorcys¡¯ warm boisterous laughter was unexpected but it served as a balm to Medusa''s grieving soul.

    This felt nice, Medusa thought with a smile. Laughing with her father on the beach as she held an adorable future vicious predator was very nice.

    ¡°You will see what I mean when his growth spurt awakens,¡± Phorcys continued. ¡°They''re very protective and are excellent swimmers.¡±

    Medusa marvelled at the thoughtfulness of Phorcys¡¯ gift. ¡°Thank you, Father. Thank you very much.¡±

    Phorcys hummed and ruffled Medusa¡¯s damp hair. ¡°Do not be sad, my child. Though your mortality deeply worries me, I also envy you. The life of an immortal¡­¡±

    Shaking his head with a sigh, Phorcys rose to his feet before lifting Medusa as if it were a regular occurrence. He began strolling towards the villa.

    Too shocked to react to being suddenly carried, Medusa forced herself to relax in Phorcys¡¯ embrace as she considered his words.

    In some way, she saw his meaning. Even though she was caught in what seemed like an endless loop of reincarnation, there was a satisfaction that came with living a full life and finally dying.

    Just how old were deities? What happened when they got tired of living? High deities were recorded to be even more ancient; lower deities revered and obeyed them to a ridiculous degree. Miserable. Absolutely miserable.

    As Medusa rested her temple on Phorcys¡¯ shoulder, a solution to her earlier concern came so suddenly that she nearly whooped in triumph.

    First, bone-melting relief came but following behind was a sense of trepidation. If Medusa did this right, she could earn a chance to learn from Clotho for more than three years.

 8. Her Many Eyes

    Medusa glared at Athena¡¯s statue as she waited in the alcoved shrine. The statue stood at least five feet tall, depicting the goddess wielding a spear, with a majestic owl perched on her left shoulder.

    The plan was simple, once her parents showed up at the back garden, she would perform the chant of apparition just like she learned during her time as a priestess.

    See? The goddess is also in agreement, Father. Please, let me visit Aunt Phorcydes!

    ¡°Ah, this is stupid.¡± Medusa facepalmed and sighed. Even though her parents revered the goddess, misgiving still lingered. What if they freak out when they see Athena¡¯s image? The more she thought of her plan, the more foolish she felt, but she had already sent words for her parents to come.

    In a sudden burst of irrational reasoning, Medusa considered coming clean.

    No. It was too much of a risk.

    Even if by some miracle Phorcys believed her, he was an ant deity of the weakest category¡ªwith immortality and a few tricks being the only things he could show for it. Athena could crush him in a single breath.

    What Medusa was about to attempt was the only way.

    Kneeling with her back to the statue, Medusa waited.

    The backdoor heaved open, and she looked just in time to see Phorcys and Ceto walk into the back garden. Unlike the gentle expression Phorcys had worn at the beach that morning, his face had reverted to expressionless.

    ¡°Father. Mother.¡± Medusa bowed when they stopped before the shrine. ¡°I give my greeting.¡±

    ¡°Why is she doing this?¡± Ceto asked Phorcys instead of responding to Medusa¡¯s greeting. Her eyes were wide with worry. ¡°Is it because of her strange mood?¡±

    Phorcys eyes lingered on Athena¡¯s statue before focusing on Medusa. ¡°You said you wish to show us something?¡±

    Releasing a long breath, Medusa hoped her innocent expression remained unshaken because the tightness in her chest was worsening.

    ¡°Father, do you recall the dream I shared yesterday? The one with Aunt Phorcydes and Hesperides burning?¡±

    A puzzled frown broke Phorcys¡¯ flat expression. ¡°What is this about?¡±

    ¡°In my sleep this afternoon, the dream came to me again. I said a prayer, and I think Athena visited me.¡± Medusa widened her eyes and scrunched her brow, hoping her expression showed naive sincerity.

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Ceto drew even closer to Phorcys as if scared. ¡°Darling, what is she saying?¡± She gazed up at her husband as if he held all the answers.

    ¡°Go on,¡± Phorcys said.

    ¡°I came to the shrine to say a prayer to Athena¡¯s statue the way the teacher taught me and something strange happened.¡±

    Medusa quickly clasped her hands before her father could speak. Shutting her eyes and frowning in concentration, she began the chants.

    The smell of juniper leaves tickled her nose followed by the heavy roll of nausea in her belly, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on.

    Her parents'' devotion to the goddess was near cult-like. This may work¡ªplease, work.

    The air around Medusa thickened. Soon flecks of golden light would display the image of Athena.

    ¡°Phorcys.¡± There was a rising note of panic in Ceto¡¯s voice. ¡°I do not like this. Make her stop.¡±

    Before Medusa could finish the chant, hands grabbed her shoulders and jerked her to her feet.

    Eyes flying open, Medusa met the terrified stare of her father. Never in her life had she seen such an expression on Phorcys¡¯ face. He was drained of colour.

    ¡°Who taught you that?¡± He demanded in a harsh voice.

    Medusa¡¯s heart thundered within her chest. This wasn''t the reaction she expected. ¡°No one¡ª¡±

    ¡°Speak the truth. Was it Guilo? That damned teacher. But there is no way¡ª¡± Phorcys¡¯ suddenly stopped speaking and whirled around.

    Medusa could not fully comprehend what happened next. One moment, Phorcys stood before her in his white evening toga and the next his robe turned dark blue with black smoke-like aura outlining his form.

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    The smell of marine accords reached Medusa and overtook Ceto¡¯s rose scent. There was also a sudden pressure as if the air had become twice as thick. Goose flesh raced across her arm. This presence did not feel like something an ant deity should possess.

    A black glass dagger materialised in Phorcys¡¯ grip and he flung it at a tree to their left without looking.

    The screech of a bird. Something dropped like stone from the branches. When Medusa took a closer look, she recognised the remains of an owl.

    Phorcys hurried over and touched the ground next to the bird. Decay set in until nothing but a patch of dead grass remained. After a short tense moment, the dark aura around him vanished, and so did the smell of marine accords and the dark hue of his clothes.

    Appearing stunned, Ceto crumbled to her knees and released a keening wail.

    There was a catastrophic knowing on Medusa¡¯s inside. I¡¯ve messed up. This is a mistake.

    Phorcys¡¯ attention swung to Medusa. With each step he took in her direction, she took another away until her back touched Athena¡¯s cold statue. Flinching, she sidled away, but there was nowhere to go when Phorcys stopped before her.

    Instead of meeting her father''s gaze, Medusa stared at her sandaled feet. Her heart was in her throat. She assumed her parents revered Athena but it seemed that wasn¡¯t the case judging from how spectacularly her attempt to deceive them failed. Ceto was still loudly weeping in the background.

    Medusa gasped when Phorcys embraced her. His heartbeat hammered against hers.

    ¡°What were you thinking?¡± He mumbled in a shaky voice. ¡°You must go. Tonight, you must leave.¡±

    Phorcys leaned back and pushed a lock of Medusa¡¯s hair behind her ear. His fingers were trembling. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. You didn¡¯t know about the spies. Her eyes are everywhere. Never think it''s your fault.¡±

    ¡°Father?¡± What was so terrible that got him this shaken? ¡°Whose eyes?¡±

    Don¡¯t tell me¡­

    Clotho? Medusa called out through the link.

    ¡°Come.¡± Phorcys took Medusa¡¯s hand and led her to the villa.

    Medusa spared a backward glance before the door shut behind her. Ceto still wept, her deep harrowing sobs reminding Medusa of when she lost Antonii.

    Would Athena kill Phorcys? But that was impossible. Deities couldn¡¯t die... yet.

    Clotho, are you there? ¡°Please answer,¡± Medusa whispered with a shaky voice.

    Her father shouted something Medusa didn¡¯t catch to one of the guards as he hurried down the corridor leading to the stairs. The guard rushed to do as he was instructed.

    You called for me.

    Medusa nearly wept in relief when Clotho answered.

    I¡¯ve done something terrible.

    Phorcys carried Medusa and took the stairs two at a time. When he turned to the left, she realised he was heading to his study.

    What happened?

    I wanted to convince my parents to let me go so I used the chant of apparition. My father suddenly killed an owl and now he looks panicked.

    ¡­

    Say something, Clotho.

    After entering the study, Phorcys carefully placed Medusa on her feet and rushed to his desk. His hands still shook as he retrieved a parchment and grabbed a quill.

    ¡°Father, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°You will go to my sister.¡± His quill flew across the parchment as he wrote.

    Clotho!

    Be patient. My memory is not what it used to be. Let me think.

    After Phorcys finished writing, he retrieved a carved wooden box from one of the shelves behind him, opened it and pulled out a thin gold necklace with no pendant.

    You said your father killed an owl?

    Yes.

    Now I understand. Her eyes. Athena uses Owls as her many eyes. If the watcher had vanished after seeing you manifest Athena¡¯s apparition, I cannot imagine what Athena would do.

    Medusa¡¯s heart sank as she swayed on her feet. I was foolish.

    Phorcys folded the parchment before walking around his desk and hunkering to her height. His gaze searched hers for a moment. Fear was no longer present, only sadness. ¡°My child, please survive.¡±

    Phorcys touched his forehead to hers. There was a feeling of cool water rushing through her veins, but the feeling vanished when Phorcys pulled away.

    Medusa gasped and touched Phorcys¡¯ face. ¡°Father, you look¡­¡± There were dark circles under his eyes and he suddenly seemed haggard.

    Shame and deep regret crushed Medusa.

    I was foolish. I should have told him the truth. What have I done?

    ¡°I am sorry, Father.¡± She must tell him now. ¡°There is something I must tell you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Take this and give it to Phorcydes once you reach the bogs.¡± Phorcys handed over the folded parchment.

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Never take this off.¡± Phorcys clasped the chain around Medusa¡¯s neck. ¡°It will keep you from her eyes.¡±

    ¡°Whose eyes? What is happening?¡± Medusa searched Phorcys¡¯ gaze. He appeared exhausted¡ªlike a third of his lifespan had been shaved off him. ¡°Please, tell me.¡±

    The muscles of his jaw ticked as he shook his head. ¡°It is the responsibility of a parent to protect their child.¡±

    It almost seemed like Phorcys couldn''t speak a bad word against Athena. What was this?

    Phorcys carried Medusa once more and made his way out of his study. ¡°At the bogs, do not draw attention to yourself by doing what you did today. Nod if you promise me.¡±

    Medusa mutely nodded. Why did this sound like a permanent goodbye?

    As if Phorcys heard her thought, he held her tighter and gently swept a hand down her back. ¡°I will come for you, I promise. Do not cry or be sad. I swear to come for you.¡±

    Medusa nodded again. She couldn¡¯t find her voice or shake off the dread. Something awful was coming and she was the catalyst.

    Clotho, I¡¯m leaving for the bogs. But something is not right.

    Clotho was quiet for the longest time. It was not until Medusa was sitting in a cushioned carriage, Rico on her lap and Galene sitting across from her that Clotho replied in a subdued voice.

    I will meet you in two days.

 9. Meat is Meat

    ¡°... and she gave me some honey cakes her mother made. It was warm and delicious.¡±

    Annoyed at Linos¡¯ endless talking, Perseus whacked the training dummy with more force than necessary. The wooden sword snapped in half, the front end sailing across the air and piercing the earth a breath from where Linos stood.

    Linos yelped and jumped away. ¡°Brother!¡± He looked from the spot to Perseus¡¯ face. ¡°Y-you scared me.¡±

    ¡°Did I not tell you watching me train is dangerous? You never listen.¡± Perseus rotated his right arm and grimaced. By the gods, his muscles were sore. Dictys had made him work on the javelin last night. After hammering into the next day, he barely got three horai of sleep.

    ¡°I listen,¡± Linos said with a huff. ¡°And that was scary.¡±

    Perseus peered at his brother.

    Those wide naive eyes. So trusting. And Perseus could sense it, Linos was beginning to show the flawed aspects of their father¡¯s personality. Barely eleven and he wouldn¡¯t stop singing about Elder Kadmos¡¯ youngest daughter¡ªhis latest beloved.

    Perseus should apologise for almost hurting Linos, but his pride wouldn¡¯t let him. And it didn¡¯t help that he had been irritable since he got out of bed. He had assumed that the gibberish in the book would do something, perhaps open a path in his mind, make his swordsmanship stronger or even give him some powerful ability. Save for a fleeting understanding he gleaned from the lines of nonsensical runes, he had nothing to show for the three horai he poured in before his training. And where was Antigoni?

    ¡°Go home. You only start training when you''re eleven. Stop pretending to forget,¡± Perseus said as he strolled to the shade of the only tree in the training ground.

    Perseus¡¯ body always ached on training day but today felt worse. And the scorching mid-afternoon sun wasn¡¯t helping matters.

    Tossing what remained of his wooden sword, Perseus dragged an arm across his sweaty brow and retrieved the little book from where it sat on the bench. If he tried again, something may happen.

    Leafing through the pages, Perseus followed the lines with his gaze. When a brief understanding came this morning, he almost couldn¡¯t believe it. He understood that a certain writing meant ¡®drain¡¯ and that the word was¡­ heavy? That was the only description he could give it, but other than that, his mind remained stubbornly unyielding. Even now, as he stared harder at the runic lines, desperate for another insight, nothing happened.

    ¡°But you need me,¡± Linos said, breaking Perseus¡¯ attention. ¡°Water?¡± A bright smile lit his face as he raised a large jug, the water sloshing over the rim and wetting his white tunic.

    Unable to help himself, Perseus smiled. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    After taking a long drink, he nodded at his side. ¡°Sit, I need to tell you something.¡±

    Perhaps, there was a possibility that his words would pierce through the delusional clouds in his brother¡¯s head and align things.

    Linos eagerly did as he was told. Though only four years separated them, Perseus dwarfed Linos. Helping Dictys at his blacksmith shops for years and the regular training had given Perseus a lean muscular build. Linos, on the other hand, was an image of fragility¡ªthin arms and legs, the face of a puppy.

    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± Perseus pretended to struggle to recall Linos¡¯ latest obsession.

    ¡°Glykeria?¡± Linos offered shyly. ¡°She also likes me. She keeps giving me cakes and telling me tales of the sea. She smells really nice too.¡±

    By the gods, the besotted way his eyes sparkled. Perseus would have laughed if it was funny.

    ¡°Do you know why father died?¡±

    The spark vanished from Linos¡¯ eyes. He frowned for a moment before answering. ¡°Because he trusted a woman.¡± Then the spark returned almost immediately. ¡°But Glykeria is not our mother. And there are no kings here for her to¡­ to whore herself to. She is just a girl, brother.¡± Linos¡¯ voice grew increasingly desperate as he continued talking. ¡°She is not like our mother. Her sisters, too. They are kind. They are not like the whore.¡±

    Perseus scowled. ¡°Recall the beast that attacked you?¡±

    Linos blanched. ¡°Yes. Yes, I do.¡± He hugged his knees. ¡°I can never forget.¡±

    ¡°Why did it attack you?¡±

    ¡°Because¡­ because it is bad.¡±

    Perseus patted Linos¡¯ shoulder and hoped to Athena that he caught his meaning and sincerity. ¡°The mormo attacked you because it is its nature to attack. There are no good beasts.¡±

    Linos nodded, eyes still downcast. ¡°There are no good beasts.¡±

    ¡°Just as it is the nature of beasts to attack, it is also the nature of women to betray and be easily deceived. You were too young when our father died because of the whore¡¯s betrayal, so you may not understand.¡±

    Perseus remembered, a little too vividly if you asked him.

    ¡°Think of them as tools or ornaments.¡± Dictys would say whenever he caught Perseus¡¯ gaze following one of the island girls. ¡°All are replaceable¡ªeven the useful or beautiful ones.¡±

    The sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention to the low gate of the training compound. It was Dictys and Antigoni, one of his uncle¡¯s guards and Perseus¡¯ trainer.

    Standing smartly, Perseus tucked the little book behind his belt. ¡°Uncle,¡± he greeted with an incline of the head.

    Perseus¡¯ gaze slid to Antigoni. Why was he wearing a dark hooded robe in the sweltering heat?

    ¡°I saw the javelin. Almost perfect,¡± Dictys said as he looked over the training ground. His focus lingered on the broken wooden sword. ¡°Antigoni will tell you what to do,¡± he finally said before beckoning Linos. ¡°Come, boy. I need your help with something.¡±

    Perseus watched them go. Linos was chatting happily, probably about that Glykeria girl. Dictys¡¯ expression appeared softer as he listened with rapt attention.

    Dictys always overlooked the formalities of stiff greetings with Linos, and he never treated him harshly either. Not that Perseus was complaining¡ªit just seemed a bit concerning that his uncle continued to coddle him.

    ¡°Why are you wearing that?¡± Perseus asked when he shifted his attention to Antigoni. It must be boiling under that robe.

    ¡°Come with me.¡± Antigoni walked past Perseus instead of smacking him on the back of the head for being rude to his trainer.

    Absurd robe aside, there was something odd about Antigoni''s mood today. His solemn silence was strange. And why were they heading into the western grove, the opposite direction of the town?

    Twigs snapped underfoot as Perseus pushed low-hanging branches aside and pressed deeper into the forest.

    ¡°Would you not speak?¡± Perseus asked, unable to stand the silence and mystery. ¡°And slow down a little.¡± They¡¯ve been walking for about half a horai.

    ¡°Your training will be different today.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± A spark of excitement lit Perseus¡¯ bored heart. ¡°Is this about awakening Zeus¡¯s blood?¡±

    ¡°That is why we are on this path.¡±

    Perseus grinned. It was general knowledge that training was linked to awakening deity blood in mortals. How his family went about theirs was a closely guarded secret only known by the patriarch, and in the past generations, no son had awakened Zeus'' blood except his great ancestor who founded the islands.

    Last year, when Perseus followed Dictys to the Singing Sailors, he had picked up on a conversation a table away. Both men chatting about influential families and kingdoms in Southern Greece going as far as adopting, or in extreme cases, kidnapping children discovered to be blood carriers. Fear had seeped into his veins at the news; he was a blood carrier, the topmost if there was one. But as soon as the fear came, it vaporised. No one knew of his existence outside Seriphos.

    Perseus¡¯ family had stubbornly remained humble for centuries, choosing the obscured islands and satisfying themselves with wielding local power. Well, except for the first nine years of Perseus'' life.

    Putrid memories mocked Perseus, the worst of them crystal clear.

    Mother, I hope you are dead.

    Now that Athena had chosen their island, things would change. Soon, news about Perseus being a blood carrier may spread. To protect himself, he must awaken Zeus¡¯ blood fast. And Perseus could feel it. He was bigger than these islands.

    After pushing through thickets, taking winding turns and breathing in the suffocating loamy air of the forest, they finally came upon an odd clearing. It was a wide circular space with pristine interlocking stone flooring.

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    Unable to explain why, a surge of unease assailed Perseus. Palming the back of his neck, he eyed the bushes and trees behind him. ¡°Antigoni, something feels¡ª¡±

    ¡°Follow me.¡± Antigoni stepped into the circle and marched for its middle.

    Shrugging off his paranoia, Perseus followed Antigoni¡¯s lead. Soon, he reached the centre.

    ¡°Give me your hand.¡±

    Perseus placed his palm upon Antigoni¡¯s roughened one.

    ¡°You are about to partake in a solemn ritual,¡± Antigoni said in an even voice. ¡°Do not speak.¡±

    Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Perseus nodded. He flinched when Antigoni pierced his index finger with a silver needle. ¡°Press out a drop over there.¡± He nodded at the smaller circle in the middle.

    Curiosity hummed within Perseus as he took a closer look at the spot. He blinked in surprise when he recognised the runes lining the circle. They were similar to what he saw in the book.

    When Perseus¡¯ blood touched the stone, there was the sound of a click. The stone rotated with a grinding sound, grew hollow and pushed out of the earth. He watched with no small fascination as sparkling water filled the stone basin.

    Grinning in Antigoni¡¯s direction, Perseus was about to speak when the man brought his finger to his lips indicating he remained silent. And for some reason, he looked¡­

    Perseus cocked his head. Though he couldn¡¯t tell why, Antigoni seemed unsettled. No, that wasn¡¯t quite it. Was that fear? But it made little sense. Nothing terrified Antigoni.

    ¡°Dip your hands in the water,¡± Antigoni said in a low voice.

    ¡°So, we can speak now?¡± Perseus asked with a cocked brow.

    ¡°After you dip your hands in the water, cover your eyes with this.¡± Antigoni retrieved a tattered red cloth from the folds of his robe.

    Perseus immediately sensed it. The blindfold was not a regular piece of cloth. Antigoni¡¯s hands trembled as he held it, and his fingertips were red.

    ¡°Why must I wear that?¡± Perseus eyed the blindfold with misgiving.

    ¡°For training. When your eyes are covered, you will come upon a space with opponents that match your skill.¡±

    ¡°You should have started with that line.¡± Perseus snatched the blindfold and tied it behind his head with wet fingers.

    Huh? He frowned. Nothing felt different. ¡°Is this a joke¡ª¡±

    What felt like a flaming thread coiled around his heart and pulled Perseus forward. Groaning from the searing pain, he brought his hand to his chest only to find he could see.

    Whipping around, Perseus took in his surroundings. It was morning and he was back on the street in front of his uncle¡¯s blacksmith shop. When his arms felt heavy, he saw he was holding an iron sword and a wooden shield.

    A slow smile curved Perseus¡¯ lips. ¡°Was this the fire of training uncle spoke of?¡±

    Buzzing with anticipation, Perseus tightened his grip around his weapons and waited.

    Shadows shifted. Something was hiding behind a pile of crates to his left. Scratching sounds. It peeked from its hiding place. First a turf of curly brown hair then a familiar face.

    ¡°Linos?¡± Beyond confused, Perseus glanced around. Was he expected to fight his brother? When he returned his focus to Linos, he flinched away.

    It was like the day of the lamias attack. Though still wearing the appearance of his brother, one of his arms had stretched out, and his dark pink claws scratched the stone floor as he stepped forward.

    ¡°Brother.¡± The mormo canted his head and blinked black eyes at Perseus. ¡°Our meeting was brief the last time, but now¡­ now may it be long.¡±

    ¡°Do not call me brother.¡±

    Perseus rushed forward, his sword held ready. Unlike the other day, he was prepared, his blood did not run slowly in his veins, muddying his concentration and turning him into a coward. This time¡ª

    Perseus noticed too late. A blur of movement. That too-long arm lashed out like a fat whip, striking him across his stomach and sending him arching across the street.

    Pain exploded at his back as he slammed into a wall, his weapons slipping from his grip and clanging to the ground.

    Blinking bleary eyes open, Perseus watched as the mormo strolled forward, long arm dragging along and leaving a trail of venom behind. There was a wet grin on his face.

    ¡°He thinks it¡¯s like before.¡± The mormo¡¯s voice was soft and childlike.

    Groaning and blinking hard, Perseus sat straighter. The mormo kept his pace, eating the distance between them in measured steps.

    ¡°He pierced my heart with a hot rod.¡±

    Perseus needed to stand but his legs...

    ¡°Now he has no fire. He is weak.¡±

    Finally rising on shaky feet, Perseus winced at the spreading pain across his midsection. Just how powerful was this mormo?

    ¡°He is fourteen. He will not be as sweet as the other.¡± The mormo stopped, grin slipping and features turning hardened. ¡°But I can manage. Meat is meat.¡±

    Enraged, Perseus snatched his sword and shield and took a step forward. ¡°Take off my brother¡¯s face,¡± he spat through clenched teeth.

    Instead of answering, the mormo attacked again. Whipping that abominable arm at Perseus, his claws glowed red.

    This time Perseus was ready. He slashed at the mormo¡¯s arm, but the weapon slid off.

    Stumbling away, Perseus looked from his sword to the mormo, aghast.

    ¡°If you have no fire, you would need more than an iron blade to end me.¡± His second arm twisted at an odd angle, the sound of bones snapping following the movement. Like his other arm, it grew claws and lengthened.

    Holding up his shield, Perseus shuffled away.

    The arm came for him again. Rolling to his left, Perseus hurled his shield at the mormo. Not waiting to see if his attack hit its target, he dragged the tip of his sword across the stone ground.

    One glance and Perseus confirmed his shield had been slapped away. That was fine. All he needed to do was ensure he was fast and maintained quick reflexes. One hit from that arm and his body was still aching.

    ¡°I see what you are planning.¡±

    Ignoring the mormo, Perseus darted about, dragging his sword against the ground. Sparks flew from the contact, but the heat wasn¡¯t strong enough.

    Perseus released a panicked breath when the arm came for him again, missing him by a pinch when he dove to the right. The other arm followed after¡ªclaw flashing and whistling next to Perseus¡¯ right ear. But the mormo missed.

    Sweat poured down Perseus¡¯ brow as his breathing grew to harsh pants.

    ¡°You will die by my sword,¡± He mumbled the line like a prayer as he ran this way and that. Finally satisfied with the heat of the sword, he took his next move. Diving for his discarded shield, he held it before his face as he bounded for the mormo.

    As expected, the arm came for him. Using his shield to slap it aside, Perseus slashed the other with his sword.

    The mormo hissed at the heat from the weapon.

    Dragging the sword again across the ground, Perseus aimed for the mormo¡¯s heart at the last moment.

    Burning pain flared at Perseus¡¯ back. Twisting around in agony, he barely reacted before the claws came for him once more. This time it got him across the chest.

    The pain was paralysing. His sword slipped from his grip as he fell to his knees.

    ¡°Watching you try was entertaining.¡± The mormo strolled forward, arms dragging behind him.

    ¡°Can you feel my venom?¡± The mormo cocked his head. The black of his eyes was so wide that there was hardly any white. ¡°I like my prey pliant.¡±

    It messed with Perseus¡¯ mind seeing the beast twist his brother¡¯s face into something hideous while spitting those ugly words. It was too much. Maybe this training was more mental than physical.

    The mormo¡¯s arms snapped forward and wound around Perseus¡¯ ankle. As he dragged him, his other arm wound up his torso like a serpent.

    ¡°Where¡¯s that moving heroism of yours? Where is that pride, blood of Zeus?¡± The mormo laughed, head cast back and small shoulders shaking.

    Snapping his focus back to Perseus, his smile slipped as he began constricting him.

    Arms. Perseus needed to move his arms but this weakness he was feeling. It made it seem like his arms were weighed down with rocks.

    Breathing soon became hard. Perseus¡¯ lungs were on fire.

    ¡°Wouldn''t you answer?¡± Venom slid down the corner of the mormo¡¯s mouth. ¡°Where is that nauseating confidence?¡±

    How do I escape? Perseus racked his mind, thinking up possibilities and searching for hope.

    The mormo dragged Perseus forward until he was on his knees before him. He took a long sniff and wrinkled his nose. ¡°Old meat. Still manageable.¡±

    The blindfold. If Perseus could remove it, he may be able to escape this nightmare.

    Maybe it was fear or whatever speck of ability being the blood of Zeus gave him, but Perseus was able to lift a shaky hand to his face. He felt around and sighed when he touched the rough material of the blindfold.

    He ripped it off.

    Blinking his eyes open, Perseus took in the stone basin. He was back. Knees weak with relief, he collapsed to his side, chest rising and falling with his harsh breath.

    The ground was cool against his face despite the heat of the afternoon sun.

    Groaning, Perseus sat up and gingerly pulled at the open side of his tunic. A large bruise had formed across his stomach.

    Antigoni strolled over and stared down at him. ¡°You did not wait for instructions.¡±

    Flinging the blindfold at Antigoni¡¯s feet, Perseus glowered in return. ¡°I nearly died. Why am I feeling pain?¡±

    Antigoni scowled. ¡°What did you expect? Would it be effective training without pain or the fear of death?¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡± Perseus shut his mouth when he realised he had nothing to say. ¡°Fine. But if you had just¡­¡±

    A tall bald man emerged from the thicket and strode into the clearing.

    Perseus frowned and leaned to the side to get a better view. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±

    Antigoni turned.

    The whistle of a flying arrow. It hit its mark, going through Antigoni¡¯s forehead and bursting out the back.

    What?

    So sudden was Antigoni¡¯s death that Perseus knelt there, eyes following Antigoni¡¯s body as it swayed and crashed to the ground.

    What?

    Perseus blinked at the slow spread of blood. He vaguely registered more movement from the corner of his eyes. The bald man was not alone.

    Perseus¡¯  body would not move, as if he was still suffering from the mormo¡¯s venom.

    ¡°Check and confirm.¡±

    Someone appeared out of thin air to Perseus¡¯ right, and before he could react, they grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head viciously against the ground. Once. Twice. The third time.

    Stars dotted Perseus'' vision, his brain rocking within his skull as bursts of pain stunned him.

    Someone ripped his tunic open, exposing his back.

    His assailant whistled. ¡°He is the one. Almost can¡¯t believe it.¡±

    ¡°Tie him up,¡± said the first man.

    All the while they bound Perseus, he stared at Antigoni¡¯s body. His blood. The smell of it. This death before his eyes. His detached shock soon gave way to something else¡ªan urging he could not resist. There was something he must do.

    ¡°There will be no waste,¡± Perseus mumbled. ¡°Drain.¡±

    Like water sinking into loose sand, the ground drank Antigoni¡¯s blood. His body rapidly greyed, shrivelled to a husk and crumbled into a pile of ash amid his robe.

    ¡°Is this normal?¡± The man tying Perseus asked before hefting him over his shoulder.

    ¡°Our assignment is not to feed our curiosity. Make him sleep. We leave at once.¡±

    "As you wish."

    A cold finger pressed against the nape of Perseus¡¯ neck.

    First bliss came. Then nothingness.

 10. Yellow Unblinking Eyes

    ¡°What a mess,¡± said a gentle voice.

    Ceto sobbed when his bare feet came within her line of sight.

    Stay away from me! The terrified plea was trapped in Ceto''s throat, unable to find freedom.

    Trailing his approach was a line of bloody footprints that led to a pile of death at the centre of the welcoming hall. All the servants and guards had been slaughtered.

    ¡°Do not weep, Rose.¡± He touched Ceto¡¯s head with a cold hand and patted her like she were an animal.

    ¡°Please, please, please,¡± Ceto whispered.

    His aura, that awful coppery smell of blood, stuffed down her nostrils, worsening her terror.

    And Phorcys. The gaping hole in his chest, dead eyes staring ahead, and essence completely sucked out of him. ¡°Please,¡± Ceto begged again with a choked sob.

    ¡°Why do you plead? He is gone.¡±

    Ceto shook her head, denial leading her to the bowels of Insanity.

    Phorcys wasn¡¯t gone. Deities can¡¯t die. Phorcys can¡¯t be dead. She blinked at the drops of tears on the marble floor.

    Was this even real? Why did it feel like this has happened before? Ceto''s memory was a fickle thing. There were things she should know¡ªthings that lingered on the surface, begging to be remembered. Like why Phorcys had sent a carriage away. Who was in the carriage?

    Why was he here? Ceto could not get herself to look up. There were some truths her weak mind could never forget, a driving self-preservation when it came to him. Pleading only made sense. And there was something else she could never forget.

    ¡°Phorcys¡­my love.¡± He was crumbling to ashes before her eyes.

    Lies! Gods can''t die.

    Ceto flinched when a cold thumb wiped at her tears. ¡°Pretty even when you grieve.¡±

    Letting his hand fall away, he turned.

    ¡°Drain.¡±

    That command said in that voice. Ceto was certain she had heard it in the past. There was something she should remember.

    Ceto spied blood moving like a stream, further draining from the pile of bodies.

    I should lift my head. Maybe I¡¯ll remember if I look.

    Daring to look up, Ceto took in his white toga that matched his waist-length hair, and that small frame dwarfed by his two large companions. The sight of him triggered only terror, and her memory remained stubbornly elusive.

    The bodies crumbled to a heap of ashes and clothes as the streams of blood gathered above him and formed a swirling large ball. Lifting a slim hand tattooed with numerous runes, he made a fist.

    ¡°Gather.¡±

    The blood shrunk to a red pebble before sinking into his open palm.

    Closing his fist, he took a step towards the door then paused. ¡°Where is your mortal child?¡±

    The question twisted Ceto''s heart. What was this sorrow? She frowned. ¡°I¡ª¡± She stared down at her empty trembling hands. ¡°I have a mortal child? How?¡±

    He turned to the side, and Ceto spied one blood-red pupil framed with sweeping white lashes. ¡°Then sleep,¡± he muttered, voice oddly soothing.

    As sleep came, Ceto recalled Phorcys¡¯ last words. Be strong. Do not let him see you weep again.

    Oh, Phorcys. I wept, and he saw my tears.

    <hr>

    Hands that held her down. They took her bow and quiver. A sharp blow to the back of the head. That rancid smell of rotting blood at the altar. The knife that stabbed her heart and twisted.

    Mother, save me.

    Medusa opened her eyes, hand flying to her chest. Beneath, her heart raced. Tongue heavy and bitter with raw fear, she swallowed.

    When would her past lives stop haunting her dreams?

    It was impossible to forget that feeling of betrayal¡ªthe quickness with which her mother gave her up in her second life. Yet, in Medusa¡¯s last moment, she still called out to the one who betrayed her. The same way she cried for Athena in her first life.

    Pushing aside the tattered curtain of the rickety carriage, Medusa looked out the window.

    The bogs.

    The morning sky was dim with a dense spread of dew, and that musty odour of decaying vegetation and stagnant water caused Medusa to wrinkle her nose.

    Dotting the water were still black herons, their yellow unblinking eyes the only things that moved as they tracked the carriage. One of the birds unhinged its beak and released a shrill frog-like croak; the others gave no responding call.

    Suppressing a shiver, Medusa quietly dragged the fraying curtain back in place.

    They had made it past the city the night before, journeyed through less populous villages, and now sped down a decrepit road. Galene explained that it would lead to Phorcydes'' home by mid-morning.

    An hour after leaving the villa, they changed carriage six times, went to the lesser-known Hesperides port, and pretended to board a ship headed for Athens before sneaking away on a boat circling to the city''s other end. From there, they hired this rough but sturdy carriage pulled by a single horse and driven by a quiet aged coachman.

    Medusa had remained silent through the trip, and Rico had been mostly asleep save for the two times Galene fed him milk mixed with minced meat.

    Try as Medusa may, she couldn¡¯t shake off the feeling that something was amiss judging from her parents¡¯ reactions. And she had heard nothing from Clotho since she left the villa.

    Once it was bright enough, Medusa planned to read Phorcys¡¯ letter to Phorcydes. She hoped it wasn¡¯t written in Theos tongue; if that were the case, she would have no choice but to go in blind.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Soon the morning grew brighter and Galene fell into slumber. Retrieving the letter from her satchel, Medusa opened it. It was written in Greek, to her relief.

    I used my powers. He would come for me. Please, protect my child and only send her back when it is time for Athena¡¯s Demand.

    How fitting. Her father¡¯s instruction merged well with Medusa¡¯s plan to stay away for at least three years, but...

    Medusa read the first two sentences over and over. Dread came, a feeling similar to what she felt before she discovered Antonii and Rico.

    ¡°Deities can''t die. Father said so,¡± Medusa whispered as she folded the parchment with a shaky hand and placed it in her satchel. But it wasn''t working; the dread remained and grew worse with each breath. High gods could ruin ant deities in many¡ª

    Rico jerked awake, back arching as he bared his little teeth. He focused on Medusa''s right as if reacting to something beyond the coach door.

    Galene opened her eyes, body tensing as she leaned to the side in search of an elusive sound.

    ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shhh.¡± Galene brought a finger to her lips. Half-rising from her sitting position, she flicked her wrist. A short sword materialised in her grip.

    Medusa¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You are a blood¡ª¡±

    The horse¡¯s neigh was the only warning Medusa got. With a sudden force, she was snatched from her seat and slammed against the door to her right.

    There was a ringing in Medusa¡¯s ears. Flying splinters of wood tore the skin of her arms. Amidst the chaos was a shower of what seemed like raindrops. She formed a protective ball around Rico as she struck the ground before rolling to a stop.

    Finally finding the courage to blink an eye open, Medusa took in the scene around her as her heart thundered.

    Amidst the other half of the shattered carriage was the crushed corpse of the horse and coachman. The area was also wet like it had rained for an instant.

    Hissing at the throbbing pain across her back and arms, Medusa staggered to her feet.

    Where was Galene?

    A hand settled over Medusa¡¯s shoulder, causing her to jolt in fright.

    ¡°Don''t worry,¡± Galene said as she glanced around, eyes sharp even as a line of blood dripped down her temple. ¡°I set up a barrier.¡±

    Rico hissed again. Trembling, Medusa''s gaze darted about as she took in the road that cut through the spread of marshland to the left and right. It felt like eyes were watching through the shadows of the thick mangrove borders. The dew and still herons were not helping matters.

    Medusa froze up when she saw it. ¡°Do you see that?¡± She pointed with a shaky finger.

    Something was slowly emerging from the marsh. First a large grime-covered head with long stringy black hair that hid their face. Then narrow feminine shoulders and a slim torso pushed through. A green serpentine pattern formed from her waist downward. Curved talons for fingers.

    She rose and rose from the murk, a horrifying fusion of a bony woman and a massive serpentine truck. Medusa¡¯s gorgon form would be a child next to that size.

    ¡°Ekhidna,¡± Galene muttered the word through clenched teeth. ¡°Of all the¡­¡±

    Medusa''s knees buckled as she hugged a growling Rico to her chest. She didn''t know how powerful Galene was, but lessons on beasts had taught her ekhidnas were as strong as ant deities. And it was more likely that Galene merely possessed the blood of an ant deity and not a high one.

    The ekhidna glided forward, clawed fingers scratching the dirt path and water dripping down her stringy hair as she pulled her bulky form from the water.

    She tilted her head, observing them through the curtain of her tresses as she drew even nearer. There was a sound, something between a click and a hiss.

    ¡°Stay behind me,¡± Galene said in an urgent voice. Her short sword trembled as she held up her other hand, yet she stood her ground, eyes fixed on the approaching creature.

    With unbelievable swiftness, the ekhidna whipped her tail against Galene¡¯s barrier in rapid succession.

    A large crack formed across the semi-transparent barrier at the same moment blood splattered down Galene¡¯s nose.

    The ekhidna struck again, the landing of her tail causing the earth beneath Medusa¡¯s feet to shake.

    An even bigger crack formed, and this time Galene fell to her knees with a deep groan. Refusing to relent, the ekhidna threw herself at the barrier, slithering this way and that with flashing speed, scratching at the weakening wall and screeching.

    ¡°I have to hold on,¡± Galene muttered, the arm she held up wavered. ¡°I have to¡­¡±

    Medusa stood with Rico in her arms, feeling useless. And this paralysing fear, this clueless helplessness. She had no idea how to tap into whatever that was when she yelled at the cliff.

    And there was also a deep knowing in Medusa¡¯s heart that even though by some miracle she was able to repeat what she did on the cliff, it wouldn''t be powerful enough to stop the ekhidna.

    When the ekhidna screeched again, Medusa¡¯s legs gave out. She crumbled to her knees next to Galene.

    Blood was beginning to leak from the servant¡¯s eyes and ears. Flashes of the night Antonii and Rico died rushed in.

    Don¡¯t die, please. Medusa hugged Galene¡¯s arm and pleaded, ¡°Please, don¡¯t die.¡±

    Blinking in Medusa¡¯s direction with unfocused eyes, Galene shook her head. ¡°You should stay behind¡ª¡± She coughed. Blood bubbled past her lips and splattered to the ground.

    The ekhidna leaned back and unhinged her jaw, exposing those knife-like fangs before releasing a stream of deep green sludge. Like acid, it melted a hole through the barrier.

    Please, stop.

    Rico whined in the confines of Medusa¡¯s arms.

    Medusa spied a grin beyond the covering of the ekhidna¡¯s hair as the beast gripped the opening she created and easily ripped the barrier apart.

    As if Galene was the one ripped apart, she cried out and fell to her side, twitching. Slithering her great bulk forward, the ekhidna snatched Galene and curled her massive trunk around her body. Squeezing.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Medusa whispered. She wouldn¡¯t be able to take it. If this thing kills Galene, she won¡¯t be able to bear it.

    The ekhidna unhinged her jaw over Galene¡¯s head.

    ¡°STOP.¡±

    It happened like it did when Medusa yelled at the cliff. A roar rose from the pit of her belly, travelling up and gathering momentum as it moved before ripping past her lips.

    This one was even more powerful. What remained of the carriage rose and formed a sharp point that flew straight for the ekhidna.

    A clean slice through her head. Trunk going slack, Galene slipped from the beast¡¯s hold and thudded to the ground.

    Please, don¡¯t be dead.

    When Medusa rose and took a step in Galene¡¯s direction, shredding pain ripped through her midsection.

    Screaming, Medusa dropped Rico and collapsed to her side. It was like being sawed in half. Each wave of agony topped the last.

    Blood flooded her mouth and spilled past her lips. Renewed pain shot to her head and spread through every nerve.

    Too much. It was too much. She vaguely sensed Rico whining as he nudged her face with his nose.

    Even in the consuming pain, Medusa sensed it. The danger remained.

    A long shadow fell over Medusa¡¯s twitching form. She didn¡¯t need to look to know the ekhidna did not die.

    How ironic. Days ago she had longed for death and just when the motivation to live returned, a horrific end was served.

    The consuming pain switched to cool relief, but, for some reason, Medusa could not move. Cold sweat slid down her forehead. Her body was locked in a foetal position, eyes filmy with what she suspected was blood and ears leaking the same.

    ¡°Go,¡± Medusa wheezed at Rico through clamped teeth. ¡°Run.¡± Instead of doing as she urged, Rico pressed against her side with another whine and laid on his belly.

    A dizzy spell hit Medusa. She longed to sink into the deepest of sleep.

    But the ekhidna was drawing closer. Medusa blinked bleary eyes when water from the ekhidna¡¯s hair dripped on her face.

    The monster loomed over Medusa as her glowing serpentine eyes reduced to slits. Not a single scratch in sight. Medusa¡¯s earlier attack had achieved nothing.

    Rico growled when the ekhidna scraped Medusa¡¯s blood off the ground and tasted it with a forked tongue.

    The ekhidna straightened with a hiss and whipped her attention to her left.

    Was somebody¡­ had someone found them? Medusa blinked hard as she struggled to focus.

    A few feet away, a stooped figure leaning on a cane stood in the middle of the path.

    Aunt Phorcydes?

    ¡°Rest, child.¡±

    No. Medusa struggled against sleep. She wanted to see. Her vision blurred then focused. How was the ekhidna floating midair?

    Medusa blinked hard again, struggling with every sliver of will she possessed to make sense of what she saw. When clear vision returned, all that remained of the ekhidna was a scattering of chunks of flesh.

    Herons swooped in, flapping their wings and madly gorging themselves with the feast.

    Aunt Phorcydes walked towards Medusa, her gait slow and light. ¡°She resisted my will this long. Interesting. Sleep.¡±

    Unable to continue fighting, Medusa submitted to the command.

 11. Give Me Your Hair

    ¡°If I make you smile within a week, can I buy you lunch?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Within four days?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°A year?¡±

    ¡°No¡ªA year?¡±

    ¡°Your lips twitched.¡±

    ¡°They did not. Look, Antonii¡ªMr Moralis, I need to focus. This is a library.¡±

    ¡°You called me Antonii. See? You''re beginning to like me.¡±

    ¡°Pfft. No.¡±

    ¡°You''ll fall for me within a year tops. Wait and see, May.¡±

    The smell of mint roused Medusa. There was a feeling of floating in water. Someone hummed a tune in the background; the sound was melodious and strangely calming.

    But the soothing tune was not enough to numb the pain her dream awakened. Those kind eyes. He would send a playful wink her way whenever he visited the library. For a second, she imagined what it would be like if Antonii were here with her. They would¡ª

    ¡°She¡¯s awake.¡±

    Galene?

    Despite her hard struggle, Medusa couldn''t summon the strength to move.

    Someone placed their palm over her forehead. ¡°What did you do, child?¡±

    Aunt Phorcydes?

    Warmth flowed from Medusa¡¯s forehead to her toes in slow pulses. The haze over her senses slowly slipped away as strength returned to her bones.

    The water was warm, there was a low throbbing pain just below her sternum, and the tip of her fingers was cold.

    Blinking her eyes open, Medusa stared at the thatch roof above.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± Phorcydes asked in a concerned voice.

    Glancing to the right and left without moving her head, Medusa took in the large iron bath with glowing green runes lining its rim. ¡°Aunt Phorcydes?¡±

    Phorcydes leaned forward, her white tresses sliding over her shoulder and touching the water. Her eyes, the same green as Medusa¡¯s, were youthful despite her heavily wrinkled face. ¡°Phorcys wouldn¡¯t forgive me if you died.¡±

    Father! Medusa¡¯s worry spiked as she recalled the content of his letter. The way he embraced her had felt like goodbye. Something wasn¡¯t right.

    ¡°There was a letter from my father.¡± Medusa watched her aunt¡¯s expression, checking for a reaction that would give a hint. ¡°He said something about using his powers and someone dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Do not worry about Phorcys.¡± Phorcydes turned away and straightened. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen? Gods cannot die. He will be fine.¡±

    But why do I feel this heaviness in my heart?

    When Medusa sat up, water spilled over the tub and her hair clung to the back of her neck and ears. That dull pain remained in the pit of her belly. She blinked down at the silver necklace hanging from her neck.

    Father, please be fine.

    ¡°Galene, get her out of the water,¡± Phorcydes said with a sigh.

    Galene was a picture of perfect health¡ªnot a trace of injuries she sustained from facing an ekhidna. Having the blood of a deity, even an ant deity, made a world of difference between mortals.

    All the while Medusa was towelled down, dressed and led to a stool close to the fireplace, she considered her situation. Clotho said she would find her in two days but Medusa was clueless about how long she was out.

    Medusa tested the link. Clotho?

    Silence.

    The living area was a small but cosy space, with furnishing that possessed little to no embellishment. There were three doors. One door led outside, another was slightly ajar and seemed to lead to the rest of the house, and the third had an odd feel to it¡ªlike it kept a strong energy at bay.

    From the corners of her eyes, Medusa spied a small creature bound in her direction.

    ¡°Rico!¡± Beaming, Medusa snatched her pet and kissed his nose. ¡°My baby, you survived.¡± Hugging him, she chuckled when he yipped against her neck. She placed him on her lap and patted his smooth fur. ¡°How long was I¡­ asleep?¡±

    ¡°About fourteen horai,¡± Phorcydes said as she carefully settled into a rocking chair across from Medusa. ¡°Give her the medicine.¡±

    Galene passed a steaming cup containing what resembled raspberry juice. But the smell. Medusa took a tentative sniff. It smelled of nothing.

    ¡°I do not recall you being so¡­ cautious.¡±

    Oh no. She had forgotten to act like a child. She stole a glance her aunt¡¯s way. Phorcydes¡¯ attention was fixed on the fire.

    ¡°And you also seem sad,¡± she added before spearing Medusa with a direct gaze.

    Medusa struggled not to squirm. Clotho had assured her that it was next to impossible for deities to discover her secret.

    ¡°Something happened to you.¡± Phorcydes squinted as she continued observing Medusa.

    She doesn¡¯t know. She doesn¡¯t know. Medusa wailed internally when her hand shook as she brought her cup to her lips. I¡¯m acting suspicious. She¡¯ll see through my ruse and drill me. I can¡¯t¡ª

    ¡°Was it the encounter with the ekhidna? Do not be scared.¡± Phorcydes grinned, exposing ancient dentition. ¡°I killed it. Did you see?¡±

    ¡°Thank you for saving us,¡± Medusa said with a fast bow. She brought the cup to her lips again, only noticing it tasted of nothing. But as it travelled down, the pain in her belly disappeared.

    ¡°It¡¯s the least I could do for my niece.¡± Shutting her eyes, she resumed rocking her chair and humming.

    Listening to her aunt hum felt strangely good. There was something mystical about the sound. Perhaps an ability to affect one¡¯s emotions? Maybe that was part of her power.

    ¡°You feel that don¡¯t you?¡± Phorcydes asked without opening her eyes. ¡°The song, it calms you, yes?¡±

    ¡°It does,¡± Medusa said, wondering where her aunt was going with the conversation.

    ¡°Do you know of the blessing?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Medusa frowned. Though her exposure to the outside world began in her days in the temple, there was still a vast aspect of the world of deities she knew nothing of.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Since there are curses, there must be blessings as well, yes?¡± Phorcydes opened an eye and observed Medusa. Her direct gaze was beginning to get unnerving.

    Wariness spiked within Medusa.

    ¡°What you displayed against the ekhidna was too much for your body to handle. If I hadn''t come when I did, you may have died.¡±

    Medusa touched her belly. The pain was the most agonising sensation she had felt in all her lives.

    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Phorcydes continued to observe her. ¡°I think that has to do with my brother. I felt some of his aura¡­ in fact, it was his aura that helped me find you.¡± She tapped her forehead. ¡°Did he touch his forehead to yours before you left?¡±

    Medusa nodded but said nothing about how she had already manifested the shout at the cliff before meeting Phorcys.

    ¡°As I thought.¡± Phorcydes finally looked away and resumed rocking her chair. ¡°The powers gods manifest is either blessings or curses. There are by far more blessed gods than there are cursed ones. And most of the curses are either useless or downright terrifying. What Phorcys did was risky.¡±

    Instead of bluntly asking, why are you telling me this? Medusa went with a more childlike, ¡°Is my father cursed? What about my mother? The ekhidna was so scary.¡± She didn''t need to fake a shiver because it came naturally. Visions of the beast hovering over her still made her heart race.

    Blessings and curses? Phorcydes spoke like there was a higher power that gave deities abilities. But it was common knowledge that high deities were supreme and uncreated, existing since the beginning of time with Zeus at the pinnacle of their existence.

    And so kind were the gods that they chose to create and interact with mortals, some even giving mortals their blood and offering them a chance to ascend to Olympus. Medusa''s mood soured.

    ¡°Your father is cursed but your mother is blessed.¡±

    The mystery keeps multiplying. Medusa¡¯s grip tightened around her cup, but she widened her eyes in a manner she hoped showed naive shock. ¡°What about my sisters?¡±

    ¡°Cursed as well. They possess the appearance of a gorgon. Your father¡¯s curse was one of the strongest in Olympus. It¡¯s no surprise all his surviving children are cursed.¡±

    Surviving children? Medusa''s jaw fell open along with her pretence. ¡°I have a dead sibling?¡± Were they living in a reincarnation loop like her?

    ¡°That¡¯s a question I cannot answer,¡± Phorcydes solemnly answered. ¡°Ask Phorcys when you return home, yes?¡±

    Swallowing an answering retort, Medusa finished the now-warm medicine in one go. Swiping an arm across her mouth, she passed the cup to Galene.

    Rico hopped off Medusa¡¯s lap. Sniffing this and that, he disappeared into a corner.

    ¡°You amaze me,¡± Phorcydes said without opening her eyes. ¡°Part of me expected you to cry when you came to. You are ten from what I recall, but looking at you¡­ your eyes are clear and your speech lacks the naivety of a child. My niece, though mortal, is unique indeed. So very unique, yes?¡±

    It seemed her attempt to appear childlike failed. But Medusa did not care because her curiosity was ablaze. A thousand questions sprung in her mind, begging for answers. How did her parents have children when it was rare for deities to conceive? Who gave the blessing and cursing? Was it Zeus?

    The questions had barely passed Medusa¡¯s lips when the door that bore a strange energy opened.

    Phorcydes¡¯ attention swung in that direction. ¡°Who¡­¡± Her expression slackened.

    ¡°Clotho?¡± Medusa blinked at the tall goddess. Today she was dressed in a white chiton and an elaborate cloak hung over her shoulders.

    The goddess strolled into the room, a slim staff in her right hand and a child-sized wooden puppet in the other.

    ¡°I greet the Moirai!¡± Phorcydes fell to her knees, shaky hands clasped as rapturous wonder animated her aged face. ¡°This servant is most honoured by your visit. Most honoured!¡± She bowed and touched her head to the floor.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Medusa exchanged a confused glance with Galene. But the servant, seeing Phorcydes¡¯ reverent actions, fell to her knees and bowed.

    ¡°Truly, this is needless,¡± Clotho said with a bored sigh. She discarded the puppet and carefully rested her staff against the closed door before stepping forward.

    Bending, Clotho offered Phorcydes and Galene her hand. Her aura flared as a muted golden light outlined her body. The scent of orchids followed after. ¡°There is no need to bow. Very well. I shall give you both a blessing.¡±

    Blessing? Medusa sat straighter. Could it be what she was thinking? Could Clotho¡ª

    Instead of an awe-inducing occurrence, Phorcydes and Galene collapsed when Clotho touched them.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Medusa rushed over, heart in her throat. ¡°Are they dead?¡± She pressed her ear to her aunt¡¯s chest and sighed in relief at the sound of her heartbeat.

    Clotho daintily made her way around the unconscious women as she glanced around. ¡°It¡¯s been over two centuries and nothing seems to have changed.¡±

    Medusa scowled. ¡°Tell me what you did to them. And what was that you said about blessings?¡±

    Clotho waved a hand. ¡°I merely modified their memories regarding you; they¡¯ll be up and about once we leave. Oh!¡± She approached Medusa.

    ¡°I need a strand of your hair,¡± Clotho demanded with an open palm.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Clotho groaned to the ceiling. ¡°This child.¡±

    Instead of submitting, Medusa stubbornly waited for an explanation. ¡°Tell me why you need my hair.¡±

    ¡°Listen.¡± Clotho sat in Phorcydes¡¯ rocking chair. ¡°Every sentient life on Cosmolith has a thread.¡± Pinching her thumb and index finger, she drew a line. A crackling golden thread materialised, and when she unpinched her fingers, the thread spread and formed a small rectangle. Gold dust formed moving images that first displayed a baby and then a running toddler.

    ¡°That was your life thread before you¡­¡± Clotho gestured at Medusa. ¡°You changed. I¡¯ll use this thread, your hair and the puppet to create your likeness who will remain here while you¡¯re at Tartarus. Does my explanation settle your wary little heart?¡±

    ¡°I just¡­¡± Medusa drew nearer. ¡°My past¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no matter,¡± Clotho said with a wave. ¡°I understand.¡±

    Medusa plucked a strand and passed it to Clotho. ¡°What type of deity are you?¡±

    ¡°Such a funny question.¡± Clotho chuckled as she took her staff. After twisting the knobbed top open, she retrieved a thin vial hidden in it. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll share my story with you one day. For now, bring the puppet. It¡¯s not as heavy as it looks.¡±

    Medusa blinked in surprise when she lifted the puppet. ¡°What wood is this?¡± Even a stuffed toy was heavier than it.

    ¡°It was carved from a silver nymph. Even after death, embers of life remain in their bodies for a time.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Medusa stored the little detail.

    Clotho laid the puppet face-down across her lap. Uncocking the vial with her teeth, she slid in Medusa¡¯s hair and a short gold thread. One thorough shake after and the blue liquid turned sparkling green.

    ¡°The fact that you have mortal traits makes this even easier.¡± Sweeping a finger up the puppet¡¯s spine, Clotho pressed against its nape. A hole appeared. As she poured the liquid in a slow stream, she mumbled words in Theos tongue.

    Once the vial was emptied, the change began. First, the glowing outline of a spine appeared before branching veins. Skin soon covered wood and dark wavy hair flowed out.

    The puppet¡¯s perfectly human fingers twitched as Clotho turned it to its back. A perfect replica.

    Medusa had witnessed many fantastical things in her lives, but this¡ªthis was something else. Downright eerie. Suddenly, she did not want the puppet to open her eyes.

    Clotho¡¯s gaze roamed over the copy¡¯s features. ¡°Even Zeus wouldn¡¯t spot a difference,¡± she said with a satisfied grin.

    She carried the replica to the wide bath and placed her in the water, face up. ¡°When your aunt and the servant wake, everything will flow.¡±

    Still in a daze, Medusa carried Rico when he sniffed her feet.

    ¡°Athena will send a spy here,¡± Clotho said as she glanced at Phorcydes and Galene.

    Medusa''s heart sank at the news. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°She would be foolish not to.¡± Clotho strolled to the only shelf in the room and began rooting through its content. She retrieved a copper coin and observed it in the light before pocketing it. ¡°It is no secret that Phorcys has only one sister.¡±

    Medusa remembered the letter. ¡°My father wrote a letter that sounds ominous. Aunt Phorcydes¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know of the letter.¡± Clotho opened a random book, retrieved the letter and casually threw it into the fire. ¡°And he gave you that necklace. Did he tell you what it does?¡±

    Medusa watched the letter burn. ¡°He said it will shield me from Athena¡¯s eyes.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Clotho touched her chin as she observed Medusa. ¡°Give me your hand.¡±

    Quelling that familiar flare of mistrust, she did as Clotho said.

    It was the first time she was touching the goddess. Clotho¡¯s hands were soft and warm¡ªnothing out of the ordinary.

    Medusa frowned. What had she been expecting? Tree bark skin?

    ¡°I will modify this.¡± She held the necklace. More Theos tongue.

    ¡°What happened to my hair?¡± Medusa¡¯s hand flew to her head. Her hair felt curly and short.

    ¡°You possess a striking face, and Tartarus is the worst place to stand out. I gave you a temporary forgettable appearance.¡±

    Medusa touched her face. Nothing felt different. ¡°You changed my face?¡± An odd sense of freedom and giddy excitement spread in her chest.

    ¡°Yes. Yes. Very exciting,¡± Clotho said and turned towards the door she came from. ¡°Let''s leave.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Worry gnawed at Medusa. What if they were missing something? What if Athena¡ª

    Clotho tutted. ¡°I took care of every loophole in their minds. Can¡¯t you take a hint from how your aunt reacted when she saw me? I may be weak now, but even this weakness is strong compared to numerous deities. Calm your mind.¡±

    Medusa eyed her aunt and Galene. ¡°At least let¡¯s move them.¡±

    ¡°You overwork me, child.¡± Clotho groaned. Shortly after, she had Phorcydes and Galene seated in the chairs across the iron bath.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Clotho asked after retrieving her staff.

    ¡°No,¡± Medusa said and meant it. The thought that Athena would send a spy stole her ability to relax, and Tartarus¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s too bad.¡±

    Before Medusa could react, Clotho grabbed her hand, flung the door open and drew her into the light.

 12. Bite to Kill

    Perseus awoke to the feeling of being in a bobbing vessel; there was also the occasional thud of footsteps on the deck above him. Though hard to believe at first, he concluded he was on a ship. The smell of the sea was unmistakable.

    A power kept his limbs frozen and his voice sealed. They had also covered his head with a sack and stripped him to nothing but his loincloth. At least he could move his head and his senses were complete. If he could speak, he would yell for something to eat. The ripping hunger in his belly was dizzying.

    How did they do it?

    Seriphos was under the firm control of his uncle; nothing mortal came or went without Dictys¡¯ permission. Yet, his kidnappers had managed to not only kill Antigoni but transport Perseus off the island. They were even powerful enough to dare sea travel.

    How would Dictys react to his kidnap? It was easy to imagine Lino''s reaction. Lots of tears.

    If you succumb to death, weak Linos will take your place in all areas. The memory of his uncle¡¯s words planted dread in his heart. He must find a way to escape if not¡­

    If not what? And what strength would you use to escape?

    A pair of haughty eyes¡ªeyes Perseus would never forget¡ªflashed in his mind.

    ¡°Do you not see that this is all you amount to?¡±

    Since Perseus could recall, whenever berating thoughts tortured his mind, it spoke with her voice.

    ¡°A carrier of Zeus¡¯ blood is now a captive. The weakness of your father¡¯s blood cannot be suppressed after all. Shame!¡±

    Perhaps the voice spoke the truth. The last known ancestor to awaken Zeus¡¯ blood was the Island¡¯s founder. His mother, on the other hand, came from a long line of Argosian royalty. Blood carriers sprung from their family like weeds. Maybe¡ª

    Perseus gave his head a sharp shake, desperate to dispel her words. Be quiet, he commanded within the walls of his mind. I am not weak.

    Even though Perseus was clueless on how he would achieve it, he swore within himself to escape.

    ¡°Open your eyes,¡± a voice whispered in his left ear.

    Perseus whipped his head in the direction as gooseflesh raced across his skin.

    ¡°OPEN YOUR EYES, PERSEUS.¡±

    Perseus winced at the sudden loudness of the command. There was venom in their tone¡ªas if they were in a black rage but chose to whisper instead of screech.

    Blinking hard, Perseus opened his eyes to a great shock.

    Around him was a vast expanse of placid black water. The sky was a deep blue stretch that dipped to a darker hue in the distant horizon, and when he looked ahead, a heavy pressure fell upon him.

    Groaning under the crushing weight, Perseus fell to his knees and blinked at the hill of bones.

    Black skulls, femurs, and ribs burned like coal, and wafting from the pile was a dark aura. What was even more oppressing¡ªa sight that hurt his eyes to the point of stinging¡ªwas the being standing at the crest.

    Despite being eaten by terror, Perseus was mesmerised¡ªutterly incapable of tearing his eyes away.

    Their body, save for one feminine leg, was hidden in a flowing dark robe. Beneath the shadow of her hood were two glowing blue eyes fixed on Perseus.

    Perseus gritted his teeth, struggling against a sharp pain spreading from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck.

    She began her descent. Bones clattered, snapped and rolled down the hill as she moved.

    Blood dripped down Perseus¡¯ nose and splashed into the water, disturbing its still surface. He blinked at his reflection, surprised at his appearance. Blood streaked down his cheeks like tears, his skin had taken an ashen tone and his eyes were bloodshot and sunken.

    A pair of feet stopped within his line of vision, erasing his reflection. Her feet were bare, and thorny black anklets dug into her slim ankles.

    For a long moment, she stood over Perseus in silence. And he simply knelt there, possessing neither the physical nor mental strength to lift his head.

    ¡°Because of the Monolith, I came upon a knowing when I awoke.¡± Her voice was hoarse and halting, as if she tasted each word before she spoke it.

    Perseus lifted his eyes, only managing to stop his gaze at her midsection.

    ¡°I saw you and another. My little catalysts.¡± She cradled his face, the gentle action at war with that enraged undertone her voice now possessed. ¡°What do you think of Athena?¡±

    Mind blank with pain and terror, no sensible response came to Perseus. He had since accepted that this being was a high goddess, but he remained clueless on how to act. He only knew deities by their names and rumoured appearances, but relying on that knowledge was useless. Deities enjoyed disguising themselves and mingling with humans. Was this Athena?

    She gripped his jaw and forced him to meet her eyes.

    Death.

    This must be what it felt like to look death in the face. The blue glow that once filled her eyes was gone, replaced by a depthless darkness¡ªthe yawning maw of final slumber.

    I should shut my eyes. Yes, to sleep forever and ever¡ª

    ¡°Tell me what you think of Athena, boy.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Drowsy, Perseus mumbled the first answers his foggy mind recalled. A mantra every educated child had to learn when memorising the names of deities. ¡°Athena the wise. Benevolent high goddess of Olympus. Daughter of Zeus. Queen of war.¡±

    ¡°You poor, poor fool.¡± Her hand dropped to Perseus¡¯ shoulder. Hot pain spiked from the spot and jolted him from his slumberous state.

    ¡°She¡¯s cunning, that child. A master of deceit.¡± Bones gathered behind her and formed a tall chair. Settling in, she gazed down at him. ¡°You¡¯re going through the inferno.¡±

    Perseus blinked at her, beyond confused.

    ¡°You are a tool¡ªa stud to be trained for premium Olympian entertainment. That mormo and lamias attack.¡± The corner of her lips dipped as she regarded him. ¡°Athena''s sudden interest in your insignificant island. Your current kidnap. And the trials you are about to face in your future. None is a coincidence.¡±

    Denial rose like an iron wall. Lies. Perhaps, he was caught up in a feud among deities. Was she the one who planned his kidnap?

    ¡°The only significance you hold in the eyes of Athena and Zeus is the blood you carry. Ah, but I am no different. I intend to use you.¡±

    She peered at Perseus with those glowing eyes.

    ¡°Though your blood does help, there is another fire I see in you¡­¡± She leaned forward and observed him further with that probing gaze. ¡°Hate so deep and pure.¡±

    She smiled for the first time and it was horrifying, not so much in appearance but in the sinking feeling the sight triggered in Perseus. Shuddering, he looked away.

    ¡°I see you, Perseus. I see all there is to you. I know your desires¡ªthat assurance of greatness you can''t shake off. You feel like you''re the one. The chosen.¡±

    Perseus stared at his reflection in the water. She was correct. From the instant he learned he possessed Zeus¡¯ blood, the feeling of being¡­ more clung to him.

    ¡°I bring you two choices, mortal.¡± Her hoarse voice pressed around Perseus like a physical presence. ¡°Follow the path Athena the wise so lovingly laid out for you, or take my hand and I will show you the truth of this world.¡±

    <hr>

    On silent snow-white wings, Lela swooped down and perched on a sycamore branch. The warm sunlight, gentle early morning breeze and harmonious sound of children singing Athena¡¯s praises should calm her anxiety, but they didn¡¯t. Fear was a wiggling worm in her festering heart.

    When Lela released a soundless call, the response was immediate¡ªlike a tug from a string tied around her neck. With a thought in Theos tongue, she shifted to her human form and hopped down the branch.

    As Lela waited, she took calming breaths and gazed at the imposing structure of Athena¡¯s temple in the foreground. It was a magnificent edifice with towering white marble pillars, sprawling lawns, and the ever-burning basin of fire in the eastern garden. In the rain or winter, the flames remained blue, burning bright and furious.

    Even after many years of being a watcher, Lela didn''t know which was worse¡ªbeing a priestess within those suffocating walls or becoming a ¡®free¡¯ Owl.

    She should be grateful. Priestesses were exposed to more dangers when sent on missions and beast subjugations. Things only got dangerous for Owls if they were discovered. Even if the deity showed uncharacteristic pardon and let them escape with their life, returning to Athena spelt instant death.

    The goddess never took kindly to the incompetent, and there was no record of a rogue Owl ever escaping her grasp. All who chose to flee were found and suffered ugly deaths.

    Perhaps Phorcys showed mercy by killing Gioti on the spot.

    Just last month, they had met at the Ilion temple and Lela had joked about how fortunate Gioti was to be assigned to Phorcys.

    ¡°He¡¯s so broody and gentle,¡± Lela gushed. ¡°And you get to see that breathtaking face every day. Nothing suspicious happens around that god.¡±

    Gioti had huffed and gulped wine from her cup. ¡°Handsome face aside, he is the most boring deity. Watching his wife dote on him as he filled scroll after scroll with meaningless words quickly cured me of my infatuation. And his daughter. Blood! The dull thing is obsessed with the goddess,¡± Gioti said in a spiteful low voice. ¡°Pitifully ignorant.¡± She released a dead laugh before her eyes dimmed with sadness. ¡°I loathe being an owl.¡±

    That so-called boring deity killed you, Gioti. Yes, it was mercy, and now you are free.

    More memories pressed in as Lela waited for Athena¡¯s summon.

    ¡°It is an honour to be an Owl, my daughter. I dare say even more honourable than being a mere blood carrier.¡±

    Lela desired neither, but she lacked the boldness to tell her parents. Such reasoning was best wrapped tightly and buried in the darkest, most forgotten corner.

    Come.

    Exhaling through her mouth, Lela released her clenched fists and approached the small odeum to her right.

    Six girls and four boys between five and twelve years old gawked in her direction. Some stopped singing while the rest continued but still openly stared. Lela could hardly blame them. The slender tall frame, dark grey skin and pin-straight white hair of the Opsianos people never failed to draw attention. Perhaps that was one of the few things she appreciated about being in her owl form¡ªgoing mostly unnoticed.

    A small woman in a white peplos gently touched one of the boys. ¡°You can practise among yourselves while I talk to my visitor,¡± she said softly. ¡°Zachariadis is in charge.¡±

    Her kind smile lingered as she turned from the children and strolled in Lela''s direction. But the closer she got, the faster her smile vanished until nothing but a displeased frown remained.

    Lela could hardly blame the goddess for her rage. One of her tools had been killed by a deity under her house.

    Gulping down her trepidation, Lela offered a discreet bow. Whenever Athena was in disguise, Owls were to be subtle in their show of respect.

    ¡°Walk with me.¡± When Athena strolled past Lela to one of the secluded gardens in the temple grounds, a faint scent of juniper tickled her nose. Nausea twisted her gut.

    In an attempt to tamper any spike in her emotions, Lela steered her thoughts to the woman whose life the goddess had supplanted. It was hardly a surprise. Whenever Athena got bored, she played human. Her latest victim was a simple-faced woman who had been a didaskalos in the temple.

    The goddess supplanted the woman last year in the month of the Eagle, taking over her position as a teacher and freely relating with her family. The poor family would never know their real daughter had since been reduced to a pile of ashes.

    When Athena settled on a stone bench, she summoned a sound seal. ¡°Tell me everything,¡± she said in a low voice.

    ¡°He got to Phorcys before I could learn anything significant.¡±

    A bright smile lit Athena''s face, her otherwise dull eyes sparkling with delight. ¡°Is that so?¡± She tapped a finger on the stone bench as her eyes danced. ¡°To directly interfere, he must be more bored than I thought. And their mortal child?¡±

    ¡°Phorcys sent her to his sister before the¡­ the cleansing.¡± The word was vinegar on her tongue.

    Athena¡¯s smile vanished. A sudden harshness in the air made the back of Lela¡¯s nose sting.

    This was the tricky part. Self-preservation would not let Lela confess she had lost the child¡¯s trail for a full day before she suddenly picked up her location at the Hesperides bogs. Even though the odd phenomenon was no fault of hers, Athena would find a reason to make her suffer for it.

    ¡°Is there something else I should know?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Lela answered with a meek bow.

    Athena cocked her head and pierced her with a probing gaze.

    Lela¡¯s mark of allegiance sizzled painfully at the nape of her neck. What felt like needles, pricked at her mind, searching for lies and secrets. As she had managed a few times before, she held that line of steel emotion she had perfected and allowed it to wobble a little. After all, it would be odd if her emotion remained flat under the observation of the high goddess.

    Athena blinked and turned away with a displeased chuff. ¡°Phorcys. That fool. But this changes nothing.¡± She stood and began making her way back to the odeum. ¡°You shall take on Gioti''s role and observe the child.¡±

    It was as simple as that for Athena. No show of sorrow that one of her owls was killed. Nothing but calm replacement.

    Athena paused but did not turn. ¡°It should be a given that you avoid Phorcydes. She may look and act like a hapless crone, but when she bites, she bites to kill.¡±

 13. Gates with Eyes

    They had used at least six portal doors so far. Between the doors, they travelled by foot, and even though the people in the small towns and villages they passed paid them no mind, the feeling of being exposed wouldn¡¯t leave Medusa.

    Now they made their way to a lone temple atop a foggy uninhabited hill. From what Clotho explained, this was the northern border of the Grecian continent where one of the four doors that led to Tartarus was located.

    Sighing, Medusa stuck her hand in her satchel and scratched Rico at the back of his ear. He purred and shifted in his sleep.

    Sweat trickled down her back as she huffed up the stone steps. They were more than halfway there. Each step was a step closer to Tartarus, and it worsened her terror.

    But she must do this. Last night, her sleep was tormented with nightmares of Antonii¡¯s death, and following the torment was the day of her death in her first life. Perseus had managed to murder her twice. Such persistent hate was almost commendable. Even now she could feel the cold steel of his sword against her neck.

    Has Athena gifted Perseus that accursed sword? Where was he now? Perhaps, somewhere wetting his weapon with the blood of beasts as the goddess throws multiple happenstance benefits his way.

    Too slow. I¡¯m too slow and weak. My hate is not strong enough. I am forgetting my rage. If I could¡ª

    ¡°Beyond that door are the gates to Tartarus.¡± Clotho¡¯s staff tapped against the stone path in time with her measured steps. ¡°Our journey is almost at its end.¡±

    Medusa gulped as she blinked at the swirling gold embroidery lining the hem of Clotho¡¯s robe. The goddess was an odd one. Unlike other deities, she barely showed awe-inspiring abilities. No element manipulation. No teleportation. No mumbled words in Theos tongue to banish Medusa¡¯s burning fatigue.

    But even though Medusa burned with curiosity about why Clotho was the way she was, she checked herself.

    It was strange enough that when Medusa woke in the middle of the night before, the goddess was wide awake. She was seated in a meditative position, eyes blazing with light and tears tracking down her face. Medusa had quietly turned away, hugged Rico and forced herself back to sleep.

    Finally, they reached the temple. It was even more rundown than it appeared from afar. There were toppled stone pillars about, and climbing vines clung to the temple¡¯s crumbling stone walls. The only thing that stood out with a polished shine was the handle on the ancient wooden door.

    ¡°I wouldn''t ask if you are ready,¡± Clotho said. There was a glint of enjoyment in her downturned eyes.

    Heart thumping, Medusa clenched her clammy fingers as she waited. The transfer happened the instant the goddess twisted the door¡¯s handle.

    When Medusa regained her sight, she found herself standing in a vast arid plain and ahead stood the tallest gates she had ever seen. They had to be at least a hundred feet tall and appeared to be made of brass. The second thing that snagged her attention was the twin depictions of cyclops on their surface. The intricacy of the carving made it seem like their eye was alive and staring straight at her.

    She shivered despite the harsh heat of the sun and took a step back only to bump into Clotho.

    ¡°Be calm.¡± The goddess rested a hand on Medusa¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It wouldn''t harm you.¡±

    Exhaling a long breath, Medusa glanced around. She frowned when she noticed they weren¡¯t the only ones present. There were three men and Medusa sensed one was an ant deity. Judging from the simple chiton the mortals wore, they appeared to be attendants manning the carriages laden with crates.

    ¡°How long do I have to wait?¡± the deity asked in a loud irritable voice. He was a wispy small man with sharp black eyes and a harsh aura about him. ¡°I¡¯ve been here since five horai,¡± he shouted at the gate. ¡°Lost four slaves.¡± He whirled to face the two attendants and jabbed a finger at the gate with a fierce scowl. ¡°Go knock. Since you have my blood, you may survive.¡±

    Medusa looked at the gate once more and noticed the piles of ashes. A wave of horror washed over her as understanding dawned. ¡°He used the humans to¡­¡±

    The colour leeched off the faces of the attendants at the deity¡¯s command. ¡°Master,¡± one of the attendants dared to speak up, ¡°if we could just¡ª¡±

    An invisible force struck the attendant across the jaw. He staggered and caught himself from falling.

    ¡°Do as you are told or I shall strike you dead!¡± The deity¡¯s face turned red with fury as bulging veins appeared at his temple. ¡°Have you no confidence in my blood?¡±

    ¡°Then shouldn¡¯t you knock?¡± Clotho stepped forward. If she was angry, it didn¡¯t show in her face. ¡°Have you no confidence in your blood?¡±

    Desperate to flee the unfolding confrontation, Medusa glanced around. The land was a barren stretch of sunbaked earth and a few dead trees in the distance.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± A sneer twisted the deity¡¯s face.

    ¡°I have no obligation to tell,¡± Clotho replied, a picture of perfect calm.

    He took a threatening step forward. ¡°I¡¯m a deity of the high house of Plutus. I demand you introduce yourself,¡± he shouted in her face. ¡°What house do you belong to that makes you so bold?¡±

    Plutus was one of the wealthiest gods, second only to Athena. Most deities under his house were merchants and a good number managed the Bank of Athena. Medusa had met some of them when she served as a priestess in her first life. Arrogance and disdain for mortals were notable traits they all shared.

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    Clotho gave no reaction at the mention of Plutus, her bored gaze remained as she blinked down at the seething deity. Medusa had witnessed Clotho exude her aura before, and it was far greater than the joke the ant deity was radiating.

    ¡°I-It would seem you have no fear.¡± Though still scowling, his fury lessened. ¡°I was the first who knocked. But the gate¡ª¡±

    Turning away, Clotho strolled to the gate and rapped against it with her staff.

    First, there was a loud click followed by a tremor. Medusa tensed up and braced for an earthquake that never came.

    The eye of the cyclops slid shut before the gates opened and exposed a yawning blackness.

    Clotho shot the ant deity a small smug smile. ¡°What were you saying?¡±

    His attitude transformation was instant. All smiles, he rushed forward and offered a deep bow. ¡°I was foolish not to recognise the presence of a high deity. I am Tzavaras. Perhaps, you may have heard of me.¡±

    Clotho stared at his bowed head like a queen bemused at a foolish subject. ¡°Of course, I¡¯ve heard of you. You are part of the Dachtyl¨ªdi merchants, are you not?¡±

    Tzavaras straightened, wonder brightening his eyes and grin stretching his lupine face to full capacity. ¡°Yes! How did you¡ªwhat am I asking? It would be remiss of me to ask which of the high gods you are seeing you''re in disguise.¡±

    Clotho waved a hand. ¡°Do not concern yourself with me.¡± Her attention drifted to the attendants. ¡°Treat your blood-carriers with more dignity, yes?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Of course,¡± Tzavaras said, all teeth and repeated bows.

    ¡°Oh, look.¡± Clotho gestured at the gates. ¡°The keeper is here.¡±

    A shapely blindfolded woman materialised from the darkness. For clothes, she wore a flowing black toga cinched at the waist, and in her grip was a balance scale. Medusa sensed no aura from her.

    ¡°Since you were here before us, approach first,¡± Clotho said before walking over.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Tzavaras croaked, face still bright with wonder and curiosity as he stared after her. ¡°You are most gracious.¡±

    Ignoring him, Clotho grinned at Medusa. ¡°So, what do you think? Is this a good distraction?¡±

    Medusa understood Clotho¡¯s meaning even without her speaking it out loud. ¡°So far, yes.¡± Her fear of going to Tartarus was quickly being replaced with curiosity.

    ¡°Who wishes to pass?¡± The blindfolded woman¡¯s voice was flat, and if one were not looking at her, it would be impossible to tell if it was a male or female speaking.

    The merchant stepped forward. ¡°Tzavaras of the house of Plutus.¡±

    ¡°And what do you offer?¡±

    ¡°Thirty high-grade aether stones.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Medusa breathed as her head grew woozy at the ridiculous amount. Aether stones were the main forms of monetary exchange among deities. She was still confused about how they used it; something about harvesting.

    Clotho chuckled. ¡°I bet it wouldn¡¯t be enough.¡±

    Medusa gawked up at Clotho. ¡°How?¡± All through her first life, she had seen high-grade aether stone exchange only once and the essence that poured from the stones had been overwhelming for her mortal body. The highest exchange she had witnessed was ten stones.

    ¡°Where do we get that insane amount from?¡±

    ¡°You worry too much.¡± Clotho chuckled as she patted Medusa¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Watch and be entertained instead.¡±

    Tzavaras motioned to one of his attendants who hurried over with a sack. Even from a little distance, Medusa could sense the muted energy of the stones.

    The blindfolded woman dropped the scale. One moment it was miniature and the next it grew five feet tall.

    ¡°Duration of pass needed?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Five years Merchant Pass for me and my two attendants,¡± Tzavaras said with a toothy grin.

    A black feather and two greys appeared and settled on the right plate of the scale. ¡°You may offer your payment.¡±

    Tzavaras proudly marched forward and placed his payment on the scale. Instead of evening out, the scale tilted halfway.

    Tzavaras deflated. ¡°What is¡ª Perhaps, h-has the fare increased since I¡ª¡±

    ¡°You may offer your payment,¡± the woman repeated in that bland voice.

    Sighing, Tzavara motioned at his attendant. Another sack was presented.

    ¡°What happens if we don¡¯t have the gate fee?¡± Medusa asked.

    ¡°We would be forced to turn back and journey through the merciless Tartarus plains rumoured to be harsh enough to kill blood carriers,¡± Clotho said. ¡°Oh, and this is a separate continent from Greece.¡±

    ¡°What!¡±

    Clotho laughed and patted Medusa¡¯s head.

    Medusa was too worried to bother batting Clotho¡¯s hand away. Another continent? In her previous life, travelling from one continent to another was a thing of ease thanks to the convenience of science. The case was different in Cosmolith.

    There were tales of deadly barriers across the seas and oceans, tides that would rip sea vessels apart if they attempted to explore neighbouring continents. Only gods and a few favoured blood-carriers could freely move from continent to continent. And there were the other fables of great beasts that were impossible to describe and habited the continents bereft of gods¡¯ blessings.

    When the second sack was added to the first, the scale evened out and the stones vanished. Tzavaras released a sigh.

    ¡°The gates are open to you,¡± the woman said with a graceful wave.

    Mumbling in discontentment, Tzavaras turned and yelled at his attendants to move the goods. Since there were no beasts of burden, the blood carriers must be telekinesis users. And to prove Medusa¡¯s suspicion, the wagons began rolling forward.

    Clotho waited for Tzavaras and his attendants to pass before she approached the keeper. Try as hard as Medusa may to relax, her heart wouldn¡¯t stop thumping heavily.

    The keeper turned in their direction. Though blindfolded, Medusa still felt thoroughly seen. ¡°Who wishes to pass?¡±

    ¡°Irene of the house of Demeter.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s jaw dropped at the blatant lie, but Clotho¡¯s expression remained the same¡ªdreadfully bored and at ease with her deception.

    ¡°And what do you offer?¡± the gatekeeper asked, seeming not to notice Clotho¡¯s deceit.

    ¡°One oboli.¡±

    Medusa refused to believe what she heard. An oboli was the lowest denomination of mortal currency.

    The goddess flicked her wrist, and the copper coin she pilfered off the shelf at Phorcydes¡¯ materialised between her fingers.

    ¡°What is the duration of the pass you need?¡± the keeper asked, sounding unmoved by Clotho¡¯s shocking payment offer.

    ¡°Ten years Full Pass for me and my mortal companion.¡±

    One black feather and one white appeared. When they settled on the scale, it lowered like it did in the case of Tzavaras. ¡°You may offer your payment.¡±

    Clotho flipped the coin and Medusa watched it sail through the air and neatly fall on the scale plate with a clink.

    It balanced perfectly.

    ¡°How?¡± Medusa muttered with a shocked exhale.

    ¡°The gates have been opened to you,¡± the keeper said with a graceful wave.

    ¡°Come,¡± Clotho beckoned.

    Medusa walked over in a daze and let Clotho take her hand.

    ¡°Clench your teeth. Tartarus awaits,¡± the goddess said before pulling her in.

 14. Stone Titans

    Medusa stretched her hand before her face and widened her eyes, yet she could see nothing. But she pressed on, grip tight around Clotho''s hand and heart hammering.

    Her vision suddenly returned after what felt like a full minute of wading through the fathomless darkness. Shielding her eyes from the assault of daylight, Medusa glanced behind in time to see Clotho emerge from a stone wall¡ªwhich was weird because she distinctly remembered the goddess went in before her and she was holding her hand.

    ¡°The Western door. Convenient.¡± Clotho mused as she glanced around. They were in a narrow alley that stretched to a bustling street ahead.

    Noises began to register. Clopping hooves, spinning carriage wheels, occasional lowing of beasts, and loud voices.

    Medusa sensed it without taking another step forward. There was an otherworldliness about the air of this place. Gods and goddesses¡­ lots of deities were here.

    Apprehension surged as a suppressed terror pushed for the surface and rooted Medusa to the spot. A fierce desire to remain hidden in the shadowed alley gripped her. She could think of nothing else.

    I am safe here. Out there¡­ out there¡­ deities in disguise. They would find me. Eyes everywhere, watching. They see everything. They know.

    Cold sweat misted Medusa¡¯s brow. Breathing became painful.

    ¡°Child.¡±

    Medusa blinked hard. Again and again. This tightness in her chest would not relent. She massaged the spot. Black bled into her vision.

    Run. I must run.

    Apart from the deities, there was another worry. Humans.

    They view me with terrified eyes. They die at a glance.

    Shivering, Medusa hugged herself. Her fingers dug into the flesh of her arms as she muttered through trembling lips, ¡°Please, don¡¯t remember.¡±

    From the cell holding the worst of her memories, a hand emerged and snatched her by the neck¡ªforcing her to recall. And she let it happen. Memories rushed past in horrifying glimpses.

    The fleeing crowd. How they screamed. An unfamiliar serpentine trunk instead of feet. Each movement was destruction. Shutting her eyes was impossible. Stone people mid-flight. Stone people everywhere. Some toppled and crumbled. A child forever frozen in a wail of terror. A weeping mother dead on her knees. That grating screech that came when Medusa sought to speak words¡ªto explain and beg.

    So much blood on my hands. I¡¯m a beast. Evil. Perseus was right.

    ¡°MEDUSA.¡±

    Medusa blinked as her vision focused on Clotho. The goddess was so close. She could see lines of gold in her brown eyes¡ªthose normally bored eyes were now wide with worry.

    ¡°I saw it, too.¡± Clotho pulled her into a tight embrace.

    Medusa slowly blinked. She could feel the goddess¡¯ racing heartbeat against her chest. How was that possible? Some form of advanced human imitative behaviour?

    ¡°I saw it, but it will not happen,¡± Clotho said, voice fierce and hug even fiercer. ¡°I promise; it will not happen this time.¡±

    ¡°I am terrified.¡± Medusa bleakly stared over Clotho''s shoulder. ¡°I feel their presence.¡± Her voice sounded dead in her ears. The memories had sucked all that remained of her strength. ¡°I cannot see them but they¡¯re here. They wear mortal faces to deceive.¡±

    Clotho pulled away. ¡°Look at me.¡±

    Medusa complied. How could Clotho look and feel so¡­human? How could her eyes reflect such warmth? It was messing with her mind.

    ¡°This may be hard to accept but not all deities revel in human suffering.¡± Clotho¡¯s gaze turned imploring. ¡°Think about your parents, your aunt, your sisters. Surely, there must be deities you¡¯ve encountered that did not seek to cause you suffering.¡±

    That was not the point. ¡°It¡¯s the helplessness. This feeling of being exposed.¡± Medusa hugged herself again. The apprehension wouldn¡¯t leave.

    ¡°I assured you didn¡¯t I?¡± Clotho sighed. ¡°Without some level of trust between us, how can I help you?¡±

    Medusa understood but her sense of self-preservation wouldn¡¯t let her relax. And there was that other concern as well. She searched Clotho¡¯s gaze. ¡°You haven''t told me.¡±

    ¡°Told you what?¡±

    ¡°What do you want from me? Why is a high deity helping a powerless mortal?¡±

    A sad smile touched Clotho¡¯s lips. Grip tightening around her staff, she heaved a breath as she stood. ¡°I have a sister I wish to¡­ rescue.¡±

    ¡°And you need a mortal to help you save a high deity?¡± Medusa would have laughed at the ridiculous notion but she wasn''t in the mood. Everything felt so¡­ depressingly clear¡ªlike her mask was suddenly ripped off and the true face of the monster was revealed.

    The number of people she had killed in her first life flashed in her mind. It had taken her three lives to convince herself she was human and not a beast, but a single exposure of aether-rich air and she was back to square one.

    Clotho slapped her forehead and groaned. ¡°By the earth and sky, those distrusting eyes.¡±

    Instead of giving a reply, Medusa mutely shrugged.

    ¡°You are on this path because of your grief¡ªbecause of your lost family, yes? Me too. But the burden I carry, the crushing weight of that responsibility takes its toll here.¡± Clotho tapped her temple. ¡°There is a limit to what I can do. When I saw you on that cliff, I saw a way. Yes, you can help me rescue my sister. Do you wish that I swear another oath in my name? What are your terms?¡±

    Medusa shook her head. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be necessary.¡± Clotho was a high deity; some loophole an ignorant mortal may never know could exist in the oath. ¡°How can I help? You said there is a way I can kill deities. Do I have to kill deities to rescue your sister?¡±

    Even as Medusa asked, she couldn¡¯t get past the ridiculousness of the question. Kill gods? Ha! The outlandish claim was yet to fully settle in her, but she was willing to take any risk. If anything, the memory she just suffered through was a whip across the back, shaking her awake. That would be her future if she fails. And she could sense it, there was nowhere on Cosmolith she could run that a determined high deity wouldn¡¯t locate her.

    ¡°Have you heard of the Fate of Heroes?¡±

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    ¡°Some game blood carriers participate in.¡± Occasionally, profoundly foolish mortals joined in, daring to gamble for a deity¡¯s attention.

    ¡°There are two ways you can awaken your ability to kill gods.¡± Clotho displayed two fingers. ¡°You can become strong enough to win the games and demand Zeus¡¯ Vow.¡±

    A puzzled frown touched Medusa¡¯s brow. She had never heard of such a term. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Every hundredth game of the Fate of Heroes, the winner gets to ask Zeus for anything.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s head swam. Why wasn¡¯t this common knowledge? Zeus was the creator, the peak of power and wisdom. To meet such a being and ask for¡­ ¡°Anything?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Anything. If you wish to become a high god, if you wish for endless riches, or if you wish to become a ruling king or queen. Anything.¡±

    ¡°If I wish to kill gods?¡±

    Clotho clicked her tongue. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°So, how does this benefit me? Why am I doing this if I cannot win and ask for the head of Athena or Poseidon?¡±

    ¡°Winning is a step closer to properly awakening something even stronger than the eye of petrification.¡±

    ¡°Does it have to do with that shout?¡± Medusa touched her chin and furrowed her brow. That was the only supernatural ability she had ever displayed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t strong enough to kill an ekhidna. It¡¯s weak.¡±

    ¡°Not that. The other one you used to kill Perseus?¡±

    Medusa¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°You are mistaken. Perseus killed me and not the other way round.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Clotho muttered, ¡°she can¡¯t remember.¡±

    ¡°Remember what?¡± Medusa was beyond confused now. She had no recollection of killing Perseus. If such a satisfying incident occurred, she would remember it in great detail because she suffered from the scourge of perfect memory.

    ¡°I may have mixed things up in my mind.¡± Clotho made a face as if suddenly confused then turned away. ¡°If you win, ask for my sister¡¯s location. With her free, you will be closer to unleashing the power that can slay gods.¡±

    Medusa considered Clotho¡¯s words. The feeling of unease was absent, but she couldn¡¯t tell if it was her naivety, the goddess¡¯ manipulation or a sign that she was speaking the truth.

    Seems like a gamble I must take.

    ¡°As you think about it, we should start moving.¡±

    Medusa followed after Clotho but a wiggling in her satchel drew her attention. Rico. She had forgotten his existence from the moment she stepped into the gate. Taking him out of the bag, she rubbed his cold nose against her own, her heart squeezing as he yawned.

    ¡°Hey, Rico.¡±

    ¡°Allow him to sleep,¡± Clotho said as she walked on. ¡°He would be drowsy for several horai because of the gate.¡±

    Medusa carefully placed sleepy Rico back in the satchel. As they drew closer to the mouth of the alley, she performed breathing exercises.

    I''m not a monster. I''m human. My gaze doesn''t turn people to stone¡­ yet.

    ¡°I can sense your anxiety,¡± Clotho said with a tut. ¡°You wear a disguise, remember?¡±

    Medusa had yet to check her appearance in a mirror, but she felt taller and her current body was athletic and gangly, the complete opposite of her original appearance. At least Rico still recognised her.

    ¡°I gave you the blandest of looks,¡± Clotho said. ¡°It may be hard but do not worry about gods recognising you. That¡¯s never going to happen.¡±

    Her assurance was hard to swallow, but it wasn¡¯t as if Medusa had a choice.

    The alley opened to a market square and for the first time in Medusa¡¯s life, she wished she had more than two eyes. There was simply too much to see. The smells in the air, the subtle hum against her skin, the many moving things and the sounds.

    Despite her heart beating with anxiety, excitement was rising.

    The food stalls held arrays of fruits she had never seen before. The sizzling sound of meat roasting over naked fire, and that smell. Medusa drew in a long breath and her mouth watered in response. She had not had a proper meal in days.

    And the people milling about all seemed normal; the only thing making them appear strange in Medusa¡¯s eyes was how some were dressed. The regular himation, peplos and chiton, could be spotted, but there were also attires she had never spotted in her first life¡­ not that she had been that exposed to the outside world then. Loose pants and tunics with colours other than the regular white or cream. Headbands. Robes.

    ¡°Look over there.¡± Clotho steered her towards a street to their right and pointed up.

    Medusa gawked at the towering statue in the distance. Though the surrounding structures partially obstructed her view, she spotted two more far ahead. Each warrior was frozen in a point of movement; one even held what resembled a spear.

    ¡°What are those?¡± Medusa asked, still gawking even as Clotho herded her down a less busy market street towards one of the statues.

    ¡°Dead Titans. There are a total of twelve in Tartarus.¡±

    ¡°But legend describes them as ordinary warriors.¡± Medusa craned her neck to get a better view and noticed something peculiar. The inhabitants had constructed what looked like structures around the statue''s limbs, some even reaching the midsection and chest.

    ¡°Are those¡­¡± Medusa narrowed her gaze as she tried to be certain of what she was seeing. ¡°Are those buildings? And how did the high deities defeat the Titans? The legends said nothing about them being giants.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because whatever you know about legends were carefully crafted lies mixed with a sprinkling of truth,¡± Clotho said in a solemn voice.

    Medusa was not surprised at the revelation. If someone had told her this in her early years as a priestess, she would have spat in their faces for blaspheming the gods, but now she doubted everything.

    Clotho nodded at the statue. ¡°The statues are aether conduits. Do you feel a hum in the air?¡±

    Medusa nodded. ¡°Since I got here.¡± It was a milder but similar reaction to what she experienced whenever she was around aether stones

    ¡°That''s aether. And they used it to keep the buildings attached to the statues like two opposite magnetites meeting.¡±

    Medusa shook her head in wonder. ¡°That¡¯s brilliant¡­ and risky.¡±

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t worry. Those have been attached for years and years and years. Matter of fact, we are heading to one of those buildings.¡±

    Medusa gulped.

    They finally left the market behind and continued through winding streets. Clotho had apologised for making them walk all the way, joking about how she had no money¡ªnot even an oboli to her name.

    ¡°...Yet. I have no oboli yet.¡± There was a conniving glint in her sleepy eyes as she said the words. ¡°But I promise that before the day ends, I¡¯ll be one of the richest beings in Tartarus.¡±

    Medusa had only hummed in answer. She had been too busy staring at the massive sandaled feet of the statue. They were much closer now after nearly¡­ Medusa wished for a watch. Being able to conveniently tell the time in her fifth life had been a privilege she never trivialised. Since Clotho claimed to be dirt poor, Medusa doubted the goddess had a water clock on her.

    The structures closer to the statue were more sturdily built, many seeming luxurious. Medusa spotted opulent inns, merchant guilds, a large sports arena with shirtless loud athletes heading in and out, and what looked like a school, which struck Medusa as odd. A place of learning in Tartarus? She suddenly wished to share her thoughts with someone; usually Antonii always listened. A bitter pang pierced her heart.

    At least, she hadn¡¯t spotted any temple yet. Which was a relief. What Clotho shared about Tartarus seemed to be true. Here, even though she could sense the presence of gods, there was no outward show of their presence.

    ¡°Ah, she is here already,¡± Clotho said as she waved.

    Ahead was a woman with a small stature wearing a flowing black stola with full sleeves that sharply contrasted the paleness of her skin.

    When they reached her, she held Clotho¡¯s hand reverently and mumbled words in Theos tongue. Now that Medusa was closer, she observed her. She possessed a doll-like beauty with small scarlet red lips, red-rimmed eyes with thick lashes and short black hair¡­ which was odd. Women in the Grecian continent kept their hair long. Well, this wasn¡¯t Greece.

    Clotho smiled and responded in Theos tongue. Their greeting made them seem like two politicians¡ªClotho the friendly diplomatic one and the doll, reserved but deeply respectful.

    I will introduce you by another name.

    Medusa frowned as Clotho suddenly spoke to her through their mind link.

    Alright, Medusa warily responded.

    I trust her, but for the plan to go smoothly, it¡¯s better if no one knows Phorcys¡¯ daughter is in Tartarus.

    Just then, Clotho turned and gestured to Medusa with a smile.

    ¡°I would like you to meet May, daughter of Venetis. May, this is Demeter. Pay your respect.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s eyes widened. She could not tell which was more shocking. The fact that she was standing before one of the topmost goddesses of Cosmolith, Demeter the high goddess of harvest, or Clotho calling Medusa by the name she possessed in her former life.

    ¡°This mortal greets the high deity.¡± Medusa bowed.

    It was not until they boarded a horse-drawn cushioned carriage that Medusa recalled that Clotho never told her the second way she could awaken the ability to kill gods.

 15. Burning Coal Hearts

    Ares'' grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. The effect of the thnitos elixir was beginning to wear off, and with the knowledge came a sense of urgency.

    Despite the glow of the moonlight, a swathe of inky shadow blanketed the still army¡ªan entire forest of them staring through the darkness with glowing green eyes. They formed a circle around Ares, the tide of their raging killing intent rising and hovering over him like boiling storm clouds.

    But Ares¡¯ sword vibrated with barely contained eagerness. ¡°Come,¡± he muttered through gritted teeth. ¡°I move when you move.¡±

    Five towering dryad generals shot out of the army formation and formed an even tighter circle around him. Their sturdy tree-like bodies stood several heads above him, and their feet were fused to the ground, forming roots.

    This was their fiftieth barrage, and Ares was ready even though his body was in tatters. Sweat trickled down his naked back and stung his healing wounds, and his breathing remained laboured from facing an unending slew of dryads for the past four horai. But this was living. This was medicine.

    Releasing a long breath, Ares awaited their repeat attack.

    All five of them surged as one, the hardened twigs that formed their arms twisting into lethal lances. Roots tore from the earth, spilling loose soil and creaking as the generals moved.

    Ares leapt away at the last moment, and from his position above, he swung his sword. A translucent red arch travelled from his swing and sliced the earth. His attack had gotten two generals, cleanly cutting them in one stroke before shattering their burning coal hearts on its way out. They crumbled to ash.

    The remaining generals screeched in response as hardened sharp vines shot from their torsos and rushed at Ares¡¯ descending form. With another slash, he severed the vines and landed with a force that sent cracks across the ground.

    Sharpened roots burst through the earth and whipped after Ares as he raced for the remaining army. One sliced him across his calf. Another across his back. Ignoring the pain, he willed a second sword into his left hand and sent two slashes ahead. The strikes ripped through the army, forming a wider ash-paved path.

    Severed wooden arms, bursting coal hearts and the shrieks of his dying foes heralded Ares¡¯ blaze through their lines. He was a jagged red line darting through the darkness. Amid his relentless destruction, counterattacks pierced and slashed at him. Refusing to succumb to his wounds, he gritted forward.

    In his wild slaughter, Ares saw it¡ªa burst of white light descending from above and levelling more than half of the remaining army.

    ¡°Curses!¡± Flinging his weapons to nothingness, Ares snatched off his blindfold as his battle euphoria evaporated. His heavy footfalls echoed within the battered training hall as he marched to the stone basin to the left. One of these days, he would get his men to repair the deep cracks across the marble floor.

    ¡°Greetings.¡±

    Ares clenched his fists in the cool water as a thick wave of her scent reached him. Jasmine was a scent he once loved but now loathed after she shamelessly stole and tainted it. It had to be on purpose. Everything Athena did was deliberate; even something as basic as aura became a weapon in her hands.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± He unwound the thin leather band around his wrist and used it to tie up his hair.

    ¡°I''ll wait until your mood is a bit¡­¡± She paused. ¡°I¡¯ll wait until you¡¯ve settled.¡±

    Snatching the folded towel next to the basin, Ares dipped it in the water before wiping at his face, neck and torso. Though his wounds stung, the feeling paled in comparison to the sensation of her eyes on him.

    ¡°State your business and leave.¡±

    She said nothing; instead, he felt her gaze slide over him like a giant slug. That tainted scent grew heavier in the air and pressed around him, trying to force him to remember.

    ¡°Why do you do this?¡± she asked at last.

    Discarding the towel, Ares gripped the rim of the basin as he shifted his gaze to the stand that held the elixir. He caught a glimpse of her. She was leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest.

    ¡°I will train however I please.¡±

    Athena casually retrieved the half-empty vial and glared at it with a venom that did wonderful things to her supposed beautiful face. At least she spared him the sight of that distasteful glow she loved to flare in the presence of other gods.

    ¡°This.¡± Her focus drifted in his direction. ¡°This is not about training. It¡¯s something else.¡± There was a faint sound of a crack as her grip tightened around the vial. ¡°Are you one of them now?¡± Her brown eyes flashed golden as the air around her grew sharp. ¡°Have you switched allegiance?¡±

    ¡°Use that revered wisdom of yours to get your answer.¡± Ares was in no mood for this. That had been an excellent battle training she had interrupted. His irritation was beginning to morph into rage.

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    ¡°Tell me why you use this vile thing!¡± She flung the vial. The bottle whizzed past Ares¡¯ left ear and shattered against the wall.

    Rage replaced irritation in a snap. That sickness Ares fought to suppress whipped awake, feral eyes twitching about in search of what to lash at. His voice turned to ice. ¡°Do not touch my things, you pretend despot.¡±

    She bristled, fists clenching at her sides as she took a threatening step in his direction. ¡°How dare¡ª¡±

    Seeming to recover from whatever seized her, she sent a sultry smile his way. Her aura flared with light as her scent thickened like poisonous gas around Ares.

    Cocking her head to the side, her swinging earring caught the sunlight. ¡°Oh, brother, I seem to have angered you.¡±

    ¡°You are no blood of mine,¡± Ares said with a tired sigh and straightened. By the earth and sky, he was sick of this.

    In a blink, she was inches from his face. Even though she was tall for a female, the top of her head barely grazed his chin. Ignoring his obvious irritation, she rested her palm on his chest and tutted.

    ¡°These wounds¡­¡± Athena''s eyes hardened as they roamed over his bare arms and torso. ¡°I hate them. Do you do this because of her? Is she the reason you punish yourself?¡±

    When a wave of healing essence washed over Ares, he snatched Athena¡¯s wrist, breaking her contact with his skin. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± She wore a sad smile. ¡°Little brother dislikes my touch.¡±

    ¡°You are mad, Athena. Your delusions have overtaken you.¡± Maybe one day his words would break through the granite walls of the lies she had internalised over the years. What sickened him the most was her absolute belief that they were siblings and still desiring him all the same.

    Ripping her hand from his grip with ten times the needed force, Athena struck Ares across the face. And again with an even harsher strike. Pain blossomed across his cheek as the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

    Kill this wench. A guttural wheezy voice hissed within Ares. Slit her throat. Ares swept away the enraged plea like one would shoo an insufferable puppy. No longer would he succumb to the whims of a tired curse.

    ¡°Since you long for the weakness of mortality, let me show you strength.¡± Athena aimed another blow at his face, but Ares stepped away at the last moment.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Ares said with a hollow disinterested voice.

    ¡°Do not tell me you still cling to that idiotic rule of yours.¡± Athena''s features twisted as she rushed at him. Her sword materialised in her grip and with it she slashed upward, catching Ares across the chest.

    Ares hissed. The burning pain of her strike was a hundred times more agonising than those of the dryad army. Maybe it was foolish to take the elixir before training. If he had known Athena would pay a visit after more than five decades, he would have been better prepared.

    ¡°Is that a hiss I hear?¡± Disgust tinged her voice as she assailed Ares with more brutal swings from her sword. ¡°What have you been up to these years?¡± Another cut, this time across the arm. Blood dripped to the cracked stone ground. She seemed to grow more enraged at the sight of his blood.

    Her shield manifested, and she slammed it against the side of his face. Ares stumbled from the force of the hit, his vision swaying and dotting with stars. ¡°I AM ZEUS¡¯ GENERAL, DAMN IT! FIGHT ME LIKE AN EQUAL.¡±

    Ares¡¯ curse wailed within him. In times like this, he loved to imagine the curse as an emaciated hound with patchy red fur and feral amber eyes. Now it begged as it shook with bloodthirsty longing. Are you not the god of war? Have you no shame? Just a moment, it whimpered. All I need is a single moment. Please, let me kill her.

    We¡¯re immortal, you idiot.

    Tired of the confrontation, Ares caught Athena¡¯s shield before it hit his face the second time. ¡°Why have you sought me out?¡± he asked with a bored sigh. ¡°Seeing your face has ruined an otherwise pleasant morning.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to ruin it more,¡± When Athena slashed down, Ares drew from his essence and slapped the sword aside. The weapon flew across the hall and pierced the opposite wall with an explosive force.

    ¡°Stop.¡± Ares¡¯ face hardened.

    Athena glowered in response before suddenly smiling flirtatiously. ¡°My handsome brother has made it boring.¡±

    As Ares turned to the basin, he caught sight of what remained of the shattered vial. Did she know how difficult it was to get one of those? Rage rekindled but he stumped out its flames with another sigh. Visiting Tartarus would be a pain.

    ¡°Father commands you to add a contender to the Fate of Heroes.¡±

    Ares stiffened. Of all the news he expected, this was the least of his guesses. ¡°And why invite me to the party now?¡± Zeus knew his blood was cursed. What was he up to? ¡°I have no temple to my name.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no longer about temples, and you know it.¡±

    ¡°Do I?¡± Ares looped the damp towel over his neck and strolled to the door. He was dying to get out of here.

    ¡°Do not think too highly of yourself, Ares.¡± Cold warning laced her voice.

    Ares paused and gazed up at the frescoed ceiling. It depicted him. Fiercely glorious in a raging battle. Hair like blood. Eyes like death. Bringer of sorrows. Maker of orphans.

    Think of hares. They''re like hares, son.

    Ah, this doglike existence. Ares shut his eyes. Nothing he''d do would ever be enough. No price could ever cover this debt of death.

    ¡°When Father gives a command, you obey like the good mutt you are. Pick at least one contender before the next Fate of Heroes,¡± she said before marching past him in a huff and winking out of sight.

    Tension poured off Ares in a relieving rush as he pushed the tall double doors open and drew in a lungful of Athena-free air. By Nyx, it was suffocating in there.

    For the longest time, he stared at the landscape before him. Nothing but lush rolling hills and valleys as far as the eyes could see. Yet, peace of mind remained elusive.

    Mingling with other gods and catching up on the latest happenings in the land of mortals was not a pastime Ares enjoyed. But it was foolish to stay away for this long. Now he was clueless about Zeus¡¯ plans. Being clueless always resulted in becoming a witless pawn.

    Ares groaned in exhaustion. If his calculations were correct, he had to pick a lamb willing to take this cursed blood. Choosing one of his men was out of it. The other option left was getting one from the mortal lands or Tartarus. It took little to decide.

    ¡°Tartarus it is,¡± Ares mumbled as he made his way to the barracks.

 16. The Red God

    Ares sensed it the instant he stepped out of the box. The buzz at the nape of his neck, though faint, was unmistakable.

    There was a cursed being in the vicinity.

    Quite odd. Ares knew the identity of every cursed immortal in Cosmolith, so whoever this was must have sprung up within the fifty years he was away from Tartarus.

    Eyes reduced to slits, his gaze roamed the busy lobby of the auction house. An obscene amount of luminescent orbs illuminated every nook and exposed Plutus¡¯ ridiculous obsession with gold. It was almost blinding at this point.

    There were more gods present than mortals, but no matter how hard he strained his senses, he couldn¡¯t pinpoint the location of the one bearing the curse. Strange occurrences like this reinforced Ares¡¯ loathing for Tartarus. Olympus was odd but this place was a thousand times more so behind its facade of normalcy.

    Shaking off his curiosity, Ares strolled past the lobby and ignored the all-teeth-and-eager-to-help attendants who approached him. He took the walkway to his left and made his way deeper into the establishment.

    He planned to be quick with this business. Purchase the thnitos elixir and find a probably unhinged mortal willing to bear the risk of taking his blood. That part should be easy.

    A bitter laugh escaped as Ares massaged the bridge of his nose. ¡°By Nyx, I¡¯m running on the bloody palm of his hand.¡±

    At the end of a secluded corridor, Ares halted before an iron door. Intricate runic patterns adorned the frame above it, emitting a faint amber glow.

    Chuffing, Ares pushed the door open and strolled into the cluttered room. He wrinkled his nose at the abhorrent smell of old parchments mixed with dyed sealing wax.

    ¡°At least open the windows,¡± Ares said with a displeased huff.

    The room''s only occupant, a portly man with a wispy beard and large nose, looked up from what resembled an observation orb and narrowed his eyes. ¡°Greetings?¡±

    There was caution in his voice, probably because of the hooded robe Ares wore and how easily he rendered the high-grade lock on the door useless.

    Grabbing one of the chairs by the wall, Ares dragged it over and straddled it. The colour drained from the low-deity¡¯s face when he pushed his hood away.

    ¡°Gallam.¡± Ares flashed a smile. ¡°It¡¯s been what? Five? Six decades since we last met. I see you¡¯ve done quite well for yourself.¡± He made a show of looking around. Though the room was a treasure trove, nothing snagged Ares¡¯ interest.

    Gallam surged to his feet, his large belly heaving with the hurried movement. ¡°This servant greets the red god.¡±

    Ares glared at Gallam''s bowed head. ¡°It¡¯s Ares. Say it. Your lips will not burn.¡± It¡¯s been centuries and he still longed for a meeting with the clod who started the tasteless rumour about his name bearing a curse.

    ¡°H-how can I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Say. It.¡± Ares allowed a minute fraction of his essence to leak out. Items toppled off a shelf and clattered to the floor.

    Gallam squeaked and bowed again, his forehead nearly touching the table. ¡°A-Ares.¡±

    ¡°Quite easy, yes?¡± Ares extinguished his essence and went straight to business. ¡°I need information on all training schools in Tartarus.¡±

    Straightening, Gallam wiped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his robe. ¡°All the schools?¡±

    Ares cocked his head and glared at the merchant. ¡°Are you hard of hearing?¡±

    ¡°All the schools.¡± Gallam nodded hard enough to make his jowls vibrate. ¡°Of course. Of course.¡± He hurried to the shelf to his right and began retrieving scroll canisters. Ares counted about five. There were five schools now? Fifty decades ago there were only three¡ªanother unsettling change.

    I should have come out more often.

    ¡°These were last updated two days ago,¡± Gallam said as he set the canisters before Ares.

    Ares retrieved the first. Drys Valon was inscribed on the bronze container. It was run by¡ª ¡°Demeter?¡± His brow climbed up. ¡°And some now call her the Wicked Woman?¡±

    Ares would have laughed if it was funny. What Poseidon did to Demeter was reason enough to go mad; perhaps this was the direct result.

    Rolling the scroll and sliding it back into its canister, Ares waved at the rest. ¡°I¡¯ll take them all. What¡¯s the cost?¡±

    Greed sparkled in Gallam¡¯s eyes as he offered Ares a tentative but ingratiating smile. ¡°A small fee of fifteen high-grade stones.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Ares looked around again and eyed a shelf holding numerous vials. ¡°I¡¯m also in need of your finest thnitos elixir. Three vials.¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± Gallam beamed. ¡°You are in great luck, red go¡ª¡± He interrupted his words with a cough, but the delighted look remained in his eyes. ¡°I mean, I just came into possession of the best thnitos elixir. The very best, I tell you.¡±

    Ares scowled. ¡°Cease your buttering and provide what I asked for.¡±

    ¡°Ahem. Apologies.¡± Gallam offered another bow as he settled into his seat. ¡°I really mean it; this is the very best. Recall the elixir even Z¡ª¡± He glanced around and whispered, ¡°The very one Zeus is rumoured to loathe.¡±

    ¡°Blue Tears?¡± Ares¡¯ frown deepened in disbelief.

    Gallam nodded with a fat grin.

    The last time Ares used Blue Tears was two hundred years ago. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s a fake. Show me.¡±

    ¡°I swear it''s authentic.¡± The merchant hurriedly retrieved a small chest from the sea of rubbish on his desk.

    The chest bore an impressive network of concealing runes etched across its surface and would likely take Ares at least a day or two to crack. Was Gallam that confident of his find?

    After biting his thumb, Gallam smeared his blood where a lock should be. Click.

    Ares sensed its authenticity before Gallam carefully retrieved the vail. A different essence from aether wafted off the chest and drifted his way.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s real.¡± Ares muttered in disbelief as he stared at the swirling silver within the blue liquid. ¡°How did you get it? Who sold it to you?¡±

    ¡°I also couldn¡¯t believe it when they brought it. Hoho!¡± Gallam¡¯s reddened cheeks shook as he laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it for one premium aether stone.¡± An astronomical amount but Ares hardly cared.

    Gallam spluttered, eyes widening as he gawked at Ares. ¡°Of¡­ of course. Should I package¡ª¡±

    A thin red mist shot from Ares¡¯ index finger and encircled the vial. It vanished. The same happened with the scroll canisters. ¡°I¡¯ll send one of my men with your payment tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I am most grateful to do business with you.¡± A worshipping grin split Gallam¡¯s face as he clasped his puffy fingers in thanks. ¡°Most grateful indeed.¡±

    ¡°Who sold you the elixir?¡±

    Gallam averted his gaze and twiddled his thumbs. ¡°I-it is against the ethics of our auction house to share the seller''s details.¡±

    ¡°It''s also against your ethics to sell such a product outside the auction floor. Yet, here you are,¡± Ares said with a bite. And he was certain Gallam would keep no record of the sale and purchase of the Blue Tears.

    Gulping, Gallam clasped his trembling fingers tighter. He seemed scared. ¡°All I can say is that I am certain they are mortal. Please, do not force me to say more. You know I am under Plutus¡¯ house. He gets¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Ares stood and walked to the door. Chasing the elixir¡¯s origin may draw attention he did not need. He paused. ¡°I shall add five more high-grade stones to your payment. Update the scrolls and make sure to inform me if the supplier of the Blue Tears wishes to sell again.¡±

    Without waiting for a reply, Ares left the room. But he had barely taken two steps when he felt it again¡ªthat annoying buzz at the back of his neck.

    The cursed being was close and this time Ares was certain he could track them.

    <hr>

    Everyone appeared normal; from the beautiful maidens plucking at the strings of golden harps to the band of athletes laughing and drinking as they shared a conversation. The dish in front of Medusa, slices of roast duck sitting on a bed of braised vegetables, appeared normal too. But the meal wouldn¡¯t go down well despite her earlier raging hunger.

    This restaurant¡ªthe entire complex in fact¡ªwas extremely luxurious to the point of ridiculousness. The silk curtains swept aside with intricately carved golden holders, numerous majestic white marble statues, polished stone ground, and stunning servers and attendants. It was too much yet normal in an odd sense. Nothing supernatural had occurred since she entered Tartarus and she was on edge because of this.

    Medusa took a final bite from her meal at the sobering thought.

    When they stepped out of the box and into the lobby, Clotho had left her in Demeter¡¯s company and went off to ¡®get rich¡¯.

    Medusa had quietly followed the goddess¡¯ lead, and they now sat in a restaurant high up in one of the buildings attached to the stone titan''s left leg. They had reached it using something Clotho called a box¡ªan elevator-like device that moved not only up and down but also sideways.

    At a point, to distract herself from feeling too overwhelmed by her environment, Medusa had fed Rico with chewed-up pieces of meat. Even though he was still drowsy, he ate so well that her heart squeezed.

    Demeter¡¯s otherwise flat gaze had momentarily lit with interest at the sight of Rico. Her gaze had lingered before she asked for his name.

    ¡°Rico,¡± Medusa had answered.

    A low ¡®interesting¡¯ was all the goddess muttered in response. She remained silent since then, choosing to eat nothing and simply stare ahead as they waited for Clotho.

    Medusa had just moved to grab the cup of water next to her empty plate when she felt it.

    A palpable shift in the air.

    She turned in time to see a hooded broad-shouldered man saunter into the restaurant.

    Unlike what Clotho said about gods concealing their divine presence while in Tartarus, this deity paid no mind to that, and everyone in the restaurant seemed to notice too.

    The hum of conversation faded into absolute silence as the deity approached. Despite the casualness of his stride, there was an undeniable air of menace in his movements.

    Medusa clenched her fist as her heart rate quickened. There was an odd buzzing sensation at the back of her neck and along with the sensation came a desire to flee.

    I shouldn¡¯t panic. Clotho assured me. She assured me that they would not recognise¡ª

    He suddenly paused and swept his gaze across the room.

    Medusa¡¯s panic doubled when his focus stopped on her. Then, he began making his way in her direction.

    Terror squeezed Medusa¡¯s lungs.

    Stand up and flee. Move!

    Her body would not obey.

    Two more tables and he would be in front of her.

    Medusa flinched when a hand rested on her shoulder.

    ¡°You are too skittish,¡± Demeter said in that low, even voice. ¡°That would be a disadvantage at the school.¡±

    When Demeter looked at the approaching deity, he stopped on his track. They stared at each other for a moment, seeming to communicate silently, and then, with a nod, he turned and walked away.

    Medusa sagged into her seat as her heart raced heavily in her throat.

    ¡°Who was that?¡±

    ¡°Do not concern yourself with him,¡± Demeter answered and remained mute until Clotho returned moments later.

    ¡°I sold it for four thousand pure-grade stones.¡± There was a cheery smile on Clotho¡¯s lips as she settled next to Medusa and gently patted sleeping Rico. ¡°Was expecting more though.¡±

    ¡°With every respect, you should have let me come with you,¡± Demeter said with a small bow. ¡°I would have struck a better deal.¡±

    Clotho waved away her words. ¡°Too risky. You may have been recognised.¡± Her brow bunched when she looked at Medusa. ¡°You¡­ you appear drained of colour. What happened?¡±

    She cradled Medusa''s face and observed her more closely. ¡°There''s terror in your eyes.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Demeter replied before Medusa could.

    That was another problem. Only Clotho knew Medusa wasn¡¯t a child, so she would have to bear it whenever the goddess treated her with such casual dismissal.

    ¡°I am ready to take her.¡± Demeter stood and looked at Medusa expectantly.

    Confused, Medusa looked from Clotho to Demeter. Take me where? What was going on?

    A frown marred Demeter¡¯s smooth brow. ¡°It seems the child is ignorant. May I explain?¡±

    Clotho shook her head. ¡°Leave it to me.¡±

    Clotho faced Medusa. ¡°Do you remember what I told you? About needing to grow stronger and the games? You have to go to a place of learning.¡±

    You will learn in Drys Valon; the methods in the school may be harsh but Demeter is the only one I can entrust you to, Clotho said through the mind link. Your father¡ªVenetis¡ªis a small-scale merchant in Athens. They will assume you are an unawaken blood carrier. Never answer when they ask which god¡¯s blood you carry.

    Medusa nodded ¡°Will I be seeing you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Clotho said loud enough for Demeter to hear.

    You will still see me, but in a¡­ different way. I¡¯ll need to maintain your disguise at the start of each new month, and there are things I plan to teach you as well.

    ¡°But I trust this wicked woman to bring out the best in you,¡± Clotho said with a soft laugh as she looked in Demeter¡¯s direction.

    Demeter merely blinked in response.

    I have no markings. They will know I¡¯m not a blood carrier.

    Child, you underestimate my abilities. You have a marking on your back.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Medusa said aloud. Trust was all she was running on now; she had seen enough of Clotho¡¯s ability not to doubt her words.

    You believe I can get stronger.

    I know. It is a fact.

    So far, the only supernatural ability Medusa had manifested was her shout, which had no effect on the ekhidna. Clotho had said that to run, she first needed to crawl.

    She offered a deep bow. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Clotho¡¯s droopy eyes softened as she smiled at Medusa. The only way you can thank me is by doing your best.

    I will.

    And Medusa meant it from the depth of her soul. But after she followed Demeter down the box and made her way to a waiting carriage, she felt it again¡ªthe buzz at the back of her neck. Someone was watching her.

 17. Burning Blood

    ¡°We plead that you attempt to escape.¡±

    The speaker possessed an accent Perseus couldn¡¯t place, and it felt like he was speaking inside his head.

    ¡°We also plead that you cling to the delusion of returning to your former lives,¡± the man continued.

    Former lives.

    Perseus wiggled his toes in the mud. The rain wouldn¡¯t relent. They had led him off the ship several horai ago with his hands and feet manacled, head covered with a sack, and speech still impossible.

    ¡°Make this interesting for us.¡± There was a sneer in those words. ¡°Try to resist your new station, revered blood carriers.¡±

    They transported him and other captives from the shore in a horse-drawn wagon, one that bumped and bounced from how madly they drove the animals. All through the jostling ride, Perseus could think of nothing but that terrifying encounter. The things the mysterious goddess had suggested about his life and her offer which he promptly refused.

    ¡°A bold but ignorant choice. I shall await your pitiable return.¡±

    The sack covering Perseus¡¯ head was snatched away. Light flooded his vision as rain pelted his now-exposed face. He dragged in a lungful of cool air, catching nothing but the smell of rain and damp earth.

    They were in the arena of a colosseum. Tall poles lined its high round edge, and the attached flags hung limply, their colour muted by the rain.

    When Perseus shivered, it wasn¡¯t from the biting cold. Another colosseum came to mind, this one much larger. The excited roar of wild spectators. The scent of blood in the air, how the hot sand turned red, and the clicking sounds the beasts made as they rushed at his father.

    Blinking away the memory, Perseus'' gaze roved over the gathering. The females were significantly fewer than the boys and all were young and stone-faced. The absolute silence of the spectators was somewhat unnerving. That air of wild merriment one would expect in a colosseum was missing. Instead, there was a tension in the air and for some reason, Perseus felt like cattle. The watchers were the butchers.

    A glance to his left and right and Perseus confirmed he wasn¡¯t the only one who received a beating upon his capture.

    The large boy at Perseus¡¯ side stared blankly ahead, his face a map of bruises and cuts. And to Perseus¡¯ right was a girl with a body more fitting for a brothel than a fighting arena. Her face had also not escaped a beating, and her clothes¡ªwhatever remained of it¡ªwere stained with blood and dirt. Another quick glance around and he found there were at least twelve others. And if he was to go by what the man had said earlier, they must be blood carriers as well.

    ¡°You shall give a performance,¡± the voice carried on. ¡°A fight for your station according to your abilities.¡±

    Perseus sought out the speaker.

    Ahead, a tall slender man stood with hands held at his back, and next to him was an occupied canopied dais. Perseus counted eight of them. Servants carrying jugs and large trays bearing delicacies attended to the guests with fluid efficiency and reverence. The guests¡¯ fine clothes and stiff posture showed some noble background.

    Mood souring, Perseus immediately marked them as the enemy. Crushing the rise of bitter emotions, he returned his attention to the speaker.

    Judging from how the rain formed an outline around his body instead of wetting him, it was either he was a topmost blood carrier or a low deity.

    As for Perseus¡¯ kidnap, he came to a conclusion. News of him carrying Zeus¡¯ blood must have reached the ears of some royal or wealthy family. His kidnapping may have been years in the making.

    The dark goddess'' words returned, reminding Perseus of a possibility he was unwilling to confront or accept.

    ¡°You are a tool to the gods. Your kidnap and the trials in your future. None is a coincidence.¡±

    A hand suddenly grabbed Perseus by the back of the neck and squeezed.

    Kneel. The command was a blast in his head.

    His body obeyed, knees bending and sinking to the wet ground as a small hunched figure hobbled forward.

    Useless rage and shame formed a twisted mass in Perseus. He would make them pay. Whoever these people were, he would learn everything about his power and go beyond that. None of them¡ªnone will escape destruction by his hand.

    The hunched girl stopped before Perseus and he glimpsed her face. Ordinary brown eyes¡ªeyes that appeared terrified for some reason¡ªand stringy black hair that hung over thin shoulders.

    Open.

    Perseus¡¯ mouth fell open without any direction on his part.

    The girl lifted a vial with a shaky hand, a look of conflicted suffering on her face. Was she also forced to do this?

    In the vial was a purplish liquid that tasted like nothing at first, and then Perseus¡¯ throat was on fire.

    Suddenly freed from the force that held him still, Perseus collapsed to his side as scalding pain spread from his midsection to the rest of his body in slow, burning pulses. It converged at the spot on his back where he bore his marking before spreading again to his navel. His insides were boiling.

    As the burning sensation worsened, Perseus found himself screaming until his throat grew raw and he tasted blood. Curling into himself, he twitched as steam poured from his eyes, nose and mouth. Soon a violent shaking began, and he vaguely registered similar shouts of agony around him.

    I will survive this and slaughter you all even if it''s the last thing I do¡ªeven if I must reach the end of the world to find you. I will slaughter you all.

    ¡°Today,¡± the speaker said with cheer, ¡°you shall defend the blood you carry.¡±

    Stand.

    The pain ebbed away as Perseus¡¯ limbs obeyed, pushing him off the muddy earth and forcing him to his feet.

    A burly bearded man with a rank smell lumbered forward and unlocked Perseus¡¯ manacles.

    Sweat mixed with the rain slid down Perseus¡¯ brow. Though the pain vanished, the memory remained like a phantom presence, pulsing around his frame.

    Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.

    There was a subtle tingling sensation at the base of Perseus¡¯ spine.

    ¡°If you look behind you, you will see your contender.¡±

    Perseus turned to look.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A short distance ahead was a curved line of shrivelled miniature trees with gnarled branches. Red cords held each branch, tethering them to the earth as black sap leaked from a line of rune markings down their grey trunk.

    Those are restrained dryads, Perseus realised with a start.

    A mormo nearly killed him and now he was expected to face a dryad?

    ¡°Weapons have been provided.¡±

    The same burly man dumped a sword on the muddy ground at Perseus¡¯ feet.

    ¡°Use your weapon however you please. What? You may even attempt to free yourselves from your chains.¡±

    Perseus retrieved the sword, noting with satisfaction that his hand did not tremble.

    Lightning struck again. The tingling sensation in his spine returned, this time uncomfortable enough to make him shift on his feet.

    And there was an odd hum in the air. A gut feeling told Perseus that it was coming from the dryads. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he turned to glare at the speaker.

    Just then, the speaker raised a hand in a graceful arch. ¡°Release them.¡±

    The dryads flashed larger as the red cords burned away with a hiss.

    Cool mud splattered across Perseus¡¯ face and chest as a cacophony of enraged shrieks pierced his ears. And the dryads¡­ their branches madly whipped about but did not attack, which was odd.

    ¡°Your task is simple,¡± the speaker said. ¡°Kill the dryad marked as your opponent.¡±

    Eyes wide, Perseus craned his neck as he took in the beast before him. The towering dryad had a head shaped like a mantis¡¯, its eyes were shut and it stood still save for the twitching rooted limbs, restless arms and whipping branches for hair.

    They expected him to kill that? Surely, this was a joke?

    It was common knowledge that the only way to slash a dryad was to enhance one¡¯s weapon with aether, something Perseus had never learned to do.

    ¡°One horai. Ten horai. A day. A week.¡± There was laughter in the voice. ¡°You will get no meal or sleep if your dryad remains alive.¡±

    Astonished, Perseus looked around and noticed a sobering detail. His dryad was the tallest and fiercest looking. It had to be at least three times his height.

    How? Just how was he expected to kill that?

    ¡°Give a great performance. Make your struggle interesting.¡±

    Another look around and Perseus spotted the smallest dryad, but the beast still towered over the blood carrier who appeared no older than ten. The boy held his too large sword with both hands, the weapon shaking as hard as his knees.

    One blink and Perseus pictured Linos in his place, face wet with tears and sword trembling. Never. That would never be Linos.

    Begin.

    This time Perseus was not forced to act, instead the command worked on the dryads.

    The beast shot at him so quickly that Perseus had no room to save himself. Two branches stabbed through his right arm, and a third punctured his lower thigh. He barely had the presence of mind to hold on to his weapon before he was flipped through the air and slammed down.

    Stars dotted Perseus¡¯ vision as his teeth ripped through the skin of his inner lip. ¡°Ugh¡­¡± His eyes watered as his grip tightened around his weapon.

    I must survive. I cannot die here. Teeth gritted, he pushed to his arms and knees.

    A flash of lightning, and this time it felt unnaturally closer. Perseus blinked, his spine tingling as his focus shifted to the wound on his thigh. The blood appeared redder than red. More tingling in his spine.

    Those words whispered in Perseus¡¯ ears.

    No waste.

    It felt like a part of Perseus he could not control had to do something about the blood. And around him too. The other blood carriers were getting wounded, though some more than most. A solution teased his mind.

    The word in Theos tongue had just registered and Perseus was about to speak it when he was snatched by the ankle and dragged. More sharpened branches came for his arms and torso. Perseus swung his weapon, and for the first time, he noticed his wounds were healing. The cuts in his mouth no longer stung.

    How?

    A stab through his lower belly forced Perseus¡¯s attention to the present. Hissing, he swung his weapon again and managed to hit a branch, but the strike bounced off.

    Perseus released a frustrated cry.

    It was one thing to know a fact and another for it to stare you in the face and mock you. Without aether, this fight was useless.

    What should I do?

    Fist clutching the earth as he was dragged once more, Perseus pressured his mind, thinking and pleading for it to come up with a solution. Nothing. But he could almost swear a solution had¡ª

    More stabs. Through his torso and into the ground. Ripping flesh on their way out. Burning pain. The smell of his blood.

    How do I access aether?

    Perseus was clueless. What he gleaned from the book had been like learning the basics of a language¡¯s alphabet. Even the book¡ªhis only connection to how to teach himself¡ªwas gone.

    Pathetic. Useless. Weak.

    A branch curled around Perseus¡¯ torso and began squeezing. Wheezing, he hacked at it. Once. Twice. At the third strike, its grip loosened. Drawing in a ragged breath, he turned to his belly and attempted to crawl away.

    From what Perseus could see of the fight around him, the large boy was absent. What remained of his dryad was a lifeless smoking stump. The harlot girl was in top form, her blade cleanly slicing through branches.

    Pathetic. Useless. Weak.

    Again the branches came for Perseus, this time snatching him by the calf, whipping him through the air and slamming him to the earth once more. Groaning, he spat out blood and mud as he rolled to his chest.

    In a world of agony, Perseus blinked rainwater from his eyes and looked to his right. The boy with the smallest dryad was also lying on his chest. His eyes, though open, appeared dead. The branches stabbed away, the only signs of life displayed were slow blinks and occasional twitching of his fingers.

    For a brief moment, Perseus imagined the training to represent Athena in the games. What if it was as brutal as this? If he dies, that would be Linos in the mud, lying in a pool of blood, weak and at the mercy of beasts. What if Linos was forced to take his place because Perseus was missing? It would be better if Linos had died. Yes, the mormo should have killed Linos instead.

    Bitter tears stung Perseus¡¯ eyes as he clutched the muddy earth.

    I must¡­I must do something. I must gain power and escape this place.

    No sooner had Perseus formed the thought when he sensed it. Lightning was about to strike. This time the tingling sensation came first. A sharp instinct followed after and he seized the thought before it eluded him.

    Drawing from what remained of his strength, Perseus sprung to his feet and stabbed the sky with his sword.

    Lightning answered. Zig-zagging through the sky in a downward journey, white light blinded his vision before power rushed into his weapon and ripped through his body. It burned so terribly at the spot on his back that Perseus fell to a knee.

    But this power¡­

    The word in Theos tongue returned to Perseus. Holding the hilt of his sword with both hands, he pierced the earth.

    ¡°Drain.¡±

    Perseus sensed the earth drink the blood spilt across the arena before it sped for his weapon.

    When he unsheathed his sword from the earth, everything slowed down.

    I am untethered to time.

    Following the thought was a heady feeling of invincibility. Strength, more than Perseus had felt in his life, coursed through his body, and it was with that strength that he shot for the dryad.

    The wild branches, now slow in Perseus¡¯ sight, were sliced out of the way. A thrill spread through his system with each slash of his sword.

    So this was aether? This sudden enabling that boosted his body, slowed time and sharpened his blade. The corner of Perseus¡¯ lips kicked up. This power¡­ he would see the end of it.

    My captors, please wait for me.

    Smile slipping and jaw clenching, Perseus aimed for the beast¡¯s core where its wooden heart beat. Leaping through the air, thin lines of lightning arched from Perseus¡¯ sword and propelled him even higher.

    ¡°DIE.¡± With a roar, he gave a downward swing.

    A thin blue line formed from the right shoulder, across the dryad¡¯s heart, down its torso and out its waist. Its shriek died on its lips.

    Slide.

    Drop.

    Perseus stared at the dead eyes of his kill. Elation, pride and a rising feeling of invincibility flooded his senses.

    He flexed his fingers before his face and murmured, ¡°So, this is power?¡±

    Scornful laughter. I see why they want you.

    That voice. Scowling, he looked around. It was impossible to forget that tone of bleeding rage and the scratchy note in her voice. The strange goddess was about.

    I should let you be. Some lessons must be learned through suffering.

    ¡°Get out of my head,¡± Perseus gritted out before spitting on the dryad and strolling to join the victors.

 18. Vile Soulless Beings

    I have never encountered a more air-brained child in all my life.

    Lela tucked her hair behind her ear as she considered what she wrote. She shook her head. It would be foolish to use biased words in her report to Athena. She swiped her thumb over the small stone slab, erasing what she had written with aether.

    Lela took another wary glance around the dense mangrove. The morning breeze, rustling leaves, call of birds and chirps of insects¡ªnothing amiss. Using blend had merged her with her surroundings, but she had done well to first fly deep into the bogs before transforming to her human form.

    ¡°¡­avoid Phorcydes as best as you can. She may look and act like a hapless crone, but when she bites, she bites to kill.¡±

    Shivering at the memory of Athena¡¯s warning, Lela brought the needle to stone and tried again.

    The eighteenth day of the month of the Peacock.

    Medusa still does nothing out of the ordinary. Most days are spent at the pond where she catches dragonflies and frogs. Every evening, she prays at a makeshift shrine. There are no signs of the child manipulating aether yet.

    Pausing again, Lela swung a long leg over the buttonwood branch she sat on and wondered if she should add what she overheard Phorcydes say some days back.

    Something is not right, Galene. The thousand-year-old ekhidna in the southern bogs disappeared. Are you certain you did not encounter her?

    Lela shook her head. Adding details she couldn¡¯t explain may gain nothing but a summon and grilling. Such grilling may, in turn, expose her subtle resistance to the goddess.

    ¡°Freedom,¡± Lela muttered as she drew in a lungful of thick loamy air and shut her eyes. What would it feel like to be free from the suffocating presence of deities? It was a strange thought, like thinking of the sky without the sky, yet she longed for it.

    Like priestesses, owls do not marry, but they are luckier because the goddess does not demand that they remain eternal virgins. Brow twisting, Lela touched her belly as she recalled the ritual she partook in at only eleven. Such an ignorant fool. There was always a price with benevolent Athena.

    The mark at the back of Lela¡¯s neck itched like a warning, reminding her to shun such rebellious thoughts. Sighing, she was about to continue her report when a terrifying awareness arrested her senses.

    I''ve been spotted.

    Heart sinking to the floor of her belly, Lela dared to glance down.

    Phorcydes stared up at her. Like a weathered ghost hunched beneath the folds of her green robe, she stood on the swampy still water, watching and waiting.

    Surely, this isn''t how I die. Please, no.

    Phorcydes¡¯ offered a genial wave and beckoned to her.

    When Lela hesitated, the goddess¡¯ shadow warped into a clawed hand, slithered up the tree and snatched her.

    A woozy moment later, Lela slammed against grassy ground. Groaning, she remained locked in position as the grip of the large shadow hand firmly held her in place.

    Through the curtain of her white hair, Lela observed she was in the back garden of the deity¡¯s home. How did she get here so fast?

    ¡°Like a gift falling from the sky,¡± Phorcydes said with a delighted grin before her focus shifted to what lay at Lela¡¯s feet.

    Her joints popped as she bent and retrieved the stone slab with an agility that didn¡¯t match her aged appearance. ¡°You Owls and horrendous writing,¡± she tutted as she squinted at its content.

    She would surely kill me if she reads it.

    And Lela could only watch in helpless panic.

    As Phorcydes'' read the slate, her expression shifted from passive to thunderous. ¡°You¡­ you dare spy on my niece?¡± She closed her fist over the slate and crushed it to dust.

    Lela struggled, gasping for the faintest trace of aether to push her plea past her lips.

    Phorcydes creaked upright and smacked her cane against her palm like a baton. ¡°Today, you shall learn.¡±

    By some miracle, Lela managed to draw a line of aether and wheeze past frozen lips, ¡°I beg for your forgiveness. I¡¯ll do anything.¡± Tears drained into the grass. ¡°Spare my life. Please.¡±

    ¡°Eesh!¡± The goddess¡¯ fierce glower vanished as she lowered her staff. ¡°Now you¡¯ve become pitiful. Sit up.¡± She gestured with a note of annoyance.

    The hand moved Lela to her knees.

    Phorcydes observed her with a searching gaze. Though the goddess¡¯ sharp green eyes seemed to cut into Lela¡¯s soul, it did not trigger the same terror she felt when Athena glanced her way.

    Maybe Athena realised Lela''s rebellious thoughts and sent her to her death with this assignment. Yes, this could all be the goddess¡¯ plan from the start. She must have known Phorcydes would discover and kill her.

    She sees it all. I am nothing. Dead. Finished. Just like Goiti.

    Freed from her locked position, Lela''s body sagged.

    ¡°I deeply, deeply apologise for spying on you,¡± Her voice trembled. ¡°If I was better informed, I would have¡ª¡±

    ¡°You would have what?¡± Phorcydes asked with a raised grey brow. ¡°Disobeyed Athena? Go on. Speak openly. I appreciate honesty.¡±

    Squeezing her fists on her lap, Lela shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m helpless and have nothing to say.¡±

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    ¡°Of course, you are helpless and have nothing to say.¡± The goddess no longer glared, instead, she looked pained. ¡°What happened to Phorcys? He cares too much for his daughter to send her to the bogs. I received a letter from him this morning. It made little sense. Tell me all you know.¡±

    Lela perked up. This she could do. The words poured out with a rush. ¡°Phorcys killed the Owl watching him. When I arrived at the scene, he had already paid a visit. Athena sent me to watch your niece.¡±

    Phorcydes¡¯ face fell as if she were about to weep, but she collected herself almost immediately. ¡°So that is how it is.¡± She released a bleak laugh and turned away. ¡°Ahhh¡­ always one step ahead.¡±

    Could Lela hope? Phorcydes may spare her life. But even if she did, Athena would never take a failure back. Or Lela could pretend Phorcydes never discovered her. Yes, she could do that.

    Lela¡¯s shoulders drooped. It was impossible to hide such a big lie from the goddess. Athena may have sent another Owl. Sweat misted her brow as she glanced about. The surrounding trees appeared ominous. Perhaps another Owl was watching. Was this what it felt like to be watched? What a hypocrite. I hate my life, but I don¡¯t want to die.

    ¡°I will not kill you.¡±

    Sobbing in relief, Lela clasped her hands. ¡°Thank you. Thank you so much. I will not¡ª¡±

    ¡°Before you flood my garden with your easy tears, listen.¡± The crone peered at Lela with eyes that suddenly appeared a touch senile. ¡°You must earn.¡±

    Earn? Misgiving dampened Lela¡¯s relief.

    ¡°It so happens that I¡¯m in need of a contender.¡± The goddess smiled, exposing ancient dentition. ¡°Say, have you heard of the Fate of Heroes?¡±

    ***

    ¡°No!¡± Medusa backed away from the hulking boy. Her panic spiked when she slammed into one of the many trees in the massive conservatory.

    Instead of glass, a domed semi-transparent rippling shield formed a high roof over the bursting garden, and at its centre was a large tree. Demeter stood before it, a silver scrapper in one hand and a ceramic bowl in the other.

    ¡°I cannot do what you ask.¡± Sensing her distressed state, Rico growled in her arms, his fur bristling as he bared small teeth at the boy.

    He looked about sixteen or seventeen, and Medusa couldn¡¯t tell if he was a blood-carrier or an ant deity. He remained still, dry gaze fixed on her as he waited. And he would wait forever because she¡¯d never hand over Rico.

    Ahead, a serene Demeter continued scraping thin lines of tree bark into the bowl. To her left was a wide table holding a spread of dried leaves and roots.

    ¡°Give me the beast,¡± the boy repeated. He spoke quietly as if he did not wish to disrupt Demeter¡¯s concentration.

    ¡°Please,¡± Medusa begged. ¡°Please, let me keep him.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what awaits you beyond those doors?¡± Demeter finally spoke as she placed the bowl on the table.

    When Medusa remained quiet, the goddess stared at her briefly before approaching. The only sign showing her displeasure was the way she pressed her lips in a hard line, otherwise, her gaze remained indifferent.

    Demeter had been mostly silent since they departed the auction house. While they journeyed through three teleportation doors, the last of which led to her domain, she said nothing. The boy had been waiting when they arrived and after speaking to Demeter in a hushed voice, he asked to collect Rico.

    ¡°All the¡­¡± Demeter paused, her eyes shifting to the side before her focus slid back to Medusa. ¡°All the blood carriers under my training are permitted to keep only what they earn. But because the Moirai asked me to, I permitted the thing around your neck.¡± She gave Medusa¡¯s necklace a pointed look.

    Medusa resisted the urge to clutch the jewellery. Both Rico and her necklace were gifts from Phorcys. Losing either would be¡­ no.

    ¡°Appreciate my magnanimity,¡± Demeter said in an even dismissive voice. ¡°Be compliant.¡±

    When Medusa stubbornly held on to Rico, Demeter sighed. The full sleeves of her black garment swished as she sharply waved a hand.

    Roots burst through the ground, and before Medusa could react, they coiled around her arms and jerked them apart while a third one snatched Rico and pulled him into the earth.

    It happened so fast that Medusa could only blink at the spot in disbelief.

    ¡°WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?¡± Medusa yelled in English. The air around her pulsed against her ears as her vision darkened at the corners. The horror of suddenly losing Rico blazed through her senses and razed rational reasoning to ashes.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± She jerked her arms, ignoring her ripping flesh. ¡°Bring him back. Bring him back NOW.¡± Her head grew hot with uncontrolled fury, each word coming out in a mixture of languages she had learned over her many lives.

    She distinctly heard rather than felt the bones of her arm breaking as she pulled against the iron grip of the roots. ¡°Bring him out! You psychopath. Evil, the lot of you. Vile soulless beings.¡± Her tears felt like magma; they burned as they slid down her cheeks.

    Demeter observed her like she was some strange rampaging animal in a zoo. Then in a blink, she was before Medusa¡¯s face, red-rimmed eyes reduced to slits. ¡°What is this language you speak?¡±

    ¡°I will kill you,¡± Medusa spat in Greek as her eyes burned with more tears. ¡°If Rico dies, I will kill you. I swear on my life.¡±

    ¡°Kill me? Nestor, did you hear that?¡± Demeter simpered dryly.

    Nestor acknowledged her question with a nod.

    Now that Demeter was this close, Medusa noticed how dead the goddess¡¯ eyes appeared. No life, just a pair of eyes.

    ¡°I was wondering why the Moirai brought you to me. Despite your hubris, you seem to have some promise. Look how badly you damaged your body,¡± she said in a monotone.

    ¡°Bring him out,¡± Medusa whispered. Maybe Rico had already suffocated. Maybe he was dead¡ªNO. She stumped the thought. ¡°Please¡­ I beg you.¡± Rage and pride seeped out; only desperation remained. ¡°Please, Don¡¯t let him die.¡±

    Memories of her dog returned¡ªhow she had also been helpless, unable to protect what was hers. Even Antonii. Always powerless.

    The pain from her injuries registered all at once. Groaning, Medusa grew faint; the only things keeping her upright were the roots. Her arms were on fire, and blood dripped down her fingers from the tear her bone stuck through.

    Now sober, Medusa chided herself. I have only one body; look what I''ve done to it. This would take months to heal. I was foolish. But Rico. Her eyes stung.

    ¡°Your water cat will likely die in a month¡¯s time,¡± Demeter said with grating nonchalance. A vial appeared in her hand.

    ¡°I respect the Moirai too much to leave you in this state.¡± Grabbing Medusa¡¯s jaw, she forced her mouth open.

    Though it tasted awfully like blended spinach and salt, the relief Medusa felt was instant.

    Straightening, the goddess turned.  ¡°Take her away, Nestor. I need to focus.¡±

    When the roots fell away, Medusa straightened and blinked in awe as the bruises, flayed flesh and broken bones repaired itself. Then her focus shifted to the spot Rico had vanished.

    One month.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    The goddess paused. ¡°Do you know what this place is?¡±

    ¡°I know this is Tartarus.¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡± The air around the goddess sharpened as she turned around. Though her expression remained placid, Medusa sensed rather than saw her rising rage. ¡°Or were you fooled by the lie of Plutus?¡±

    As Demeter¡¯s voice rose, so did the plants around her. Tree branches lengthened, and roots creaked as they pushed through the earth. There was also the subtle smell of cut grass. ¡°Do well to suppress your irritating boldness, mortal; I no longer find it amusing.¡±

    It took every ounce of mental will to hold the goddess¡¯ stare. The pressure in the air was so heavy that breathing was a painful struggle.  But she had to say it. ¡°I¡­ I will not let Rico die.¡±

    Demeter flashed a smile that surprisingly added a touch of life to her dead eyes. ¡°By all means, try.¡± Shifting her focus to Nestor, her voice returned to its monotone. ¡°After her entry trial¡ªno matter the score¡ªdraft the brat to the Dog House.¡±

 19. The Trial [1]

    Medusa followed Nestor down an orb-lit passage with tightly interwoven vines that formed its roof and high walls. They had left the conservatory some minutes ago and since then it''s been a maze.

    Recently dying must have shot her audacity to new heights. Medusa groaned internally. Granted, she had been overtaken by emotions, but the nerve to threaten a high goddess. A less patient deity would have incinerated her on the spot.

    And Demeter was powerful, at least she had to be considering her notoriety as one of Zeus¡¯ generals.

    Just how am I to face such a being and get Rico back?

    The horrifying picture of Rico sinking into the earth was still fresh in her mind. Again, in the span of days, something precious was taken from her because she was weak. It was as simple as that.

    ¡°How do I get him back?¡±

    If Nestor heard her question, he did a fantastic job at pretending not to. He took another turn; the vines parted and led them to an identical passage.

    ¡°How do I get him back?¡± Medusa repeated.

    She stumbled to a stop when Nestor halted. Despite his boyish face, he possessed a large muscular physique some may find intimidating but Medusa was past caring.

    He turned, his profile twisting with a subtle frown. ¡°The goddess collects beasts. Be glad. Yours may survive.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s legs nearly gave out from relief. May. She could cling to that one word.

    ¡°Tell me how to get him back.¡±

    ¡°You are mortal.¡± He scanned Medusa with an unimpressed sweep. ¡°Perhaps, if your blood is awakened...¡± He shook his head.

    ¡°Tell me how already,¡± Medusa said, beyond frustrated, then she clamped her jaws in surprise when she realised she spoke English. Something wasn¡¯t right. It felt like the connection her tongue had with her brain was unravelling in some way. Earlier, in her rage, the languages had mixed without any control on her part.

    Nestor¡¯s frown deepened as his gaze turned sharp. ¡°Do you not hail from the Grecian continent? What is this language you speak?¡±

    Medusa maintained a placid expression. ¡°I''m from the Grecian continent.¡±

    When she gave no further answer, the spark of interest vanished from his eyes. He turned and resumed his trek. ¡°Impress the goddess and you may get your pet back. If she is in a good mood, she may grant you a task. But as I pointed out, your blood is unawakened. Your chance of impressing the goddess is abysmal.¡±

    ¡°I deeply appreciate the vote of confidence,¡± Medusa muttered dryly.

    ¡°Water cats are beyond rare,¡± he continued as if he didn''t hear her speak. ¡°How did one come to your possession?¡±

    ¡°My father.¡± Medusa massaged the spot where Phorcys forehead touched hers; he looked so haggard that day. Please, be fine. ¡°My father gave it to me.¡±

    ¡°Indeed you are spoiled.¡± Nestor clicked his tongue as if disappointed. ¡°It is no surprise the goddess assigned you to Dog House.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a Dog House?¡± Medusa did not want to believe it was a literal dog house. Please, no.

    ¡°Slow learners. Runts. Spoiled to an insufferable degree. The worst house of the four.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± How apt of the goddess. If Medusa was going by her first life, Dog House fits her to a tee. She was a runt, spoiled by her parents and painfully naive.

    ¡°What¡¯s the entry trial?¡±

    ¡°You will soon find out.¡± Nestor stopped before a simple wooden door to their right. ¡°Head in. Change. I will be waiting.¡±

    It was a small room with a table holding a loincloth, thigh-length undyed tunic, belt with a sword clip¡ªno sword in sight¡ªand knee-high gladiator sandals. There was also a roll of white strophion to bind what? Despite the appearance of a fourteen-year-old, she barely sported any breasts. So, she used the strip of cloth to bind her forearms.

    Would there be beasts in the trial? Unbidden, an image of the ekhidna looming over her frozen pain-racked body attacked her mind. Her fingers trembled as she buckled on her sandals and belt. They would give me weapons, right? They had to.

    Maybe the trial was combat-based. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Her last two lives were the softest. Whatever combat skill she possessed was from her first and third life. Displaying the combat she learned as a priestess was a bad idea; that left her rusty skill from her third life.

    I¡¯m so doomed.

    When Medusa made it out, she spotted another door across the passage. This one was grander with intricate vine carvings and a polished brass knob.

    Nestor offered her a beaded wristband. ¡°The test would be lethal without this.¡±

    The black stone beads felt cool against her skin. Other than that, she felt no extra sensation.

    ¡°Beyond this door are spectators. Do not¡­¡± Nestor paused. ¡°Your eyes burn. My encouragement is needless.¡±

    With those words, he pushed the door open and Medusa squinted under the assault of sudden daylight.

    They stepped into a shaded podium, and directly ahead was an arena half the size of a football field with about¡­ her eyes scanned the crowd of boys and girls. About two hundred of them with attention fixed on a pillar holding an unlit torch at its crest.

    What Medusa found more curious wasn¡¯t the pillar¡¯s insane girth and height but the climbers¡ªat least forty of them¡ªcrawling like lizards with thin, lit torches held between their teeth.

    Medusa marvelled at how they moved, not gripping but placing their hands on the pillar and pulling up.

    ¡°How are they doing that?¡±

    ¡°Aether flashes at random across the pillar,¡± Nestor said in a bored voice. ¡°They draw it in to move.¡±

    How do they know when aether ¡®flashes¡¯? She could see nothing from this distance. Was it something that could be learned? ¡°Is this the trial?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Nestor said with a dry chuckle. ¡°The contestants are from advanced classes.¡±

    ¡°Over there.¡± Nestor canted his head to their right and Medusa looked. Six people sat on the podium with their attention rapt on the contest. Or seven people? Medusa did a double-take and frowned. She could have sworn she saw Clotho in their midst. Strange.

    ¡°Some instructors offer special classes. Win their trial to be accepted. Today, they contest for Vaso, the deity with the shaved head.¡±

    The god in question wore an unhinged grin as he watched the contestants. Low-cropped hair aside, he possessed a thin frame with a face so sunken it appeared skeletal. But what he lacked in vitality, he made up for in excessive jade and gold jewellery. Each finger flashed identical gold rings holding polished green stones, and from his neck and ears hung more ornaments.

    None of the instructors noticed Medusa¡¯s presence, and even if they did, they showed no interest in her.

    ¡°Such speed!¡± A voice boomed, drawing Medusa¡¯s attention back to the contest. ¡°Irena of Hydra House is closest to the middle.¡±

    At the announcement, wild cheers erupted from a section of the spectators. From the distance, Medusa spotted a girl crawling up the pillar at a twitchy speed. It seemed like they waited for something to appear before placing their hands and moving up.

    ¡°When their test ends, your presence will be announced,¡± Nestor said.

    Medusa¡¯s belly twisted. The thought of this many eyes on her made her throat dry and her heart sink, but it must be done.

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    I¡¯ve died five times. This is nothing. This isn¡¯t even my real face. I can be whatever I want.

    She recalled a conversation she had with Clotho on their journey to Tartarus.

    ¡°Deities change their appearance for amusement, but your reason has my blessings. What would you create without the shackle of being Phorcys¡¯ daughter?¡±

    ¡°You go to the middle of the arena,¡± Nestor said. ¡°A basin rises from the ground and you pierce your index finger with the needle within. A drop of your blood in the water.¡±

    That¡¯s it? ¡°Is that all?¡±

    ¡°From that point, your trial begins.¡±

    Just then, one of the climbers slipped and dangled precariously from one hand.

    ¡°Arcas of the Manticores has lost three holds.¡± The herald crowed the words like this was splendid news.

    Another contestant snatched Arcas by the ankle and viciously tugged. A section of the crowd booed.

    Tense, Medusa estimated the drop height. At least fifty feet. Even though he has awakened blood, a fall from that height would be excruciating.

    ¡°Hoxha of Hydra has chosen to reduce the numbers.¡± The herald laughed, a cackling high sound that Medusa instantly found annoying.

    The bejewelled skeleton joined in the laughter. ¡°They thought it would be easy. Haha!¡±

    The girl tugging at the dangling boy''s foot let go, crawled around the pillar like a spider, emerged above him and began stumping his face with fierce kicks. But despite the relentless kicks, Arcas¡¯ torch remained lit and unbroken which was strange. Such forceful hits should have snapped it in half at least.

    Medusa winced as each stump grew more vicious. ¡°What''s the point of this test?¡±

    ¡°You''re more open to attacks if your climb is broken,¡± Nestor answered. ¡°You win by kicking down at least half the contenders or reaching the torch first.¡±

    Medusa noticed the same madness play out while the herald continued cackling about it. Some focused on crawling without slipping while others kicked and pulled as they went.

    Just then, the dangling boy did something unexpected. When Hoxha went for another kick, he grabbed her leg at the same time he lost his last grip. She attempted to shake him off but he used her as a propeller. Arching through the air in a smooth flip, he landed on the pillar in a horizontal stand that mocked the laws of physics and began running.

    When he slipped, his hand caught his fall and he executed another flip. It seemed as he reached higher, the aether pattern appeared more randomly; he needed to change his movement faster. He would leap from spot to spot and flip when he had to use his hands. When one person lost their hold and was open, he snatched them by the neck of their tunic, flipped while still holding on and hurled them down.

    ¡°How brutal!¡± The herald cried in a delighted voice. ¡°As expected from Manticore House.¡±

    Medusa winced with each thud. Of course, awakened blood carriers falling from that height would not die but the pain must be extreme. As the game progressed and grew complex, more fell and limped out of the arena.

    Soon a section of the crowd started chanting. ¡°Arcas! Arcas! Arcas!¡±

    He continued up in measured movement. Even when kicking fellow contestants to their fall, he was efficient. If it seemed like hurling a person would take too much effort, he raced past.

    The one they called Irena was still ahead. She had no interest in dislodging contenders. Those who lost their grip were ignored and she continued that twitchy creeping movement. Soon her movement morphed to leaps, as if she was certain of the spots that would give her purchase.

    Now the race was between Arcas and Irena. It was clear that Irena was closer to the endpoint, but in an unexpected move, Arcas took the torch from between his teeth, leapt forward and flung it at the crest of the pillar.

    Silence fell as the torch arched through the air and smoothly hit its mark. A large blue flame erupted.

    "WHOOOOOA!" A section of the crowd roared. ¡°ARCAS! MANTICORES! ARCAS! MANTICORES!¡±

    No one seemed to notice Irena who reached the torch less than a second later. The pillar soon sank into the ground as the remaining contestants leapt off.

    ¡°Arcas of Manticore House takes first place,¡± said the herald Medusa was yet to see.

    At the announcement, Arcas lifted a fist before turning to where the instructors sat and offered a bow.

    ¡°In second place, Irena of Hydra House.¡± The girl offered a sharp bow and walked off the arena.

    ¡°And in third place¡­¡±

    Medusa stopped listening. Soon they would call her up and¡ªphew! She released a long breath as her heart thumped heavily. Why was the crowd so damn large? Her only unique ability was the shout, and she couldn¡¯t even summon it at will.

    This should be fun. So much fun. Ah, blazes. Medusa blinked at the sky and pictured Antonii. What would he say if he were here with her?

    Don¡¯t overthink. Headbutt it. He¡¯d probably say it with that playful grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

    Heart squeezing painfully, Medusa clenched her fist.

    Alright. Headbutt it. I''ve got this.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t your trial supposed to be tough,¡± asked a mocking voice.

    Vaso glared at one of the instructors. She was a chubby woman with a round happy face and twin braids that fell to her ankles.

    ¡°Oh Vaso, do not look so sour. It¡¯s not hidden that Arcas is one of the best.¡±

    ¡°Keep your insight, you mouthy sow.¡±

    The plump woman laughed in response, the cheery sound unrestrained and soft. When she stopped laughing, she wiped the corner of her eyes and sent him a flirty grin. ¡°Sow? If you want some fat, politely ask.¡±

    Colour blossomed across Vaso¡¯s sunken cheeks. He blinked at her for a stupefied moment before snapping his attention to the arena all the while mumbling beneath his breath.

    ¡°Why do you look away, Vaso?¡± She said his name with a roll of the tongue. ¡°I offer the softest hugs. You seem to need one.¡±

    ¡°Stop it, Atalanta,¡± one of the instructors said with a drawn-out sigh.

    ¡°What?¡± Atalanta simpered and shrugged. ¡°He was begging for it, and I¡ª¡± She paused and looked straight at Medusa. ¡°How did I not notice your presence?¡±

    Was that supposed to be a burn? Medusa maintained her schooled expression as the other instructors looked in her direction.

    ¡°Give your greeting to the instructors,¡± Nestor urged.

    ¡°I am May, daughter of Venetis,¡± Medusa said with a bow.

    ¡°Venetis, hmm.¡± Atalanta touched her chin. ¡°I know a few Venetis in the Grecian empire. Could it be the¡ª¡±

    The herald¡¯s voice cut in. ¡°How unexpected. Today is indeed full of delights. A new child has joined Drys Valon!¡±

    A hush first fell followed by the low hum of conversation. Soon, Medusa felt eyes on her. So many eyes.

    Headbutt it. Headbutt it. She repeated the phrase like a prayer in her head.

    ¡°As you all did, she will face the trial.¡±

    The cloth strips between her fingers tightened as she clenched her fists in preparation.

    ¡°May, daughter of Venetis, step forward!¡±

    As Medusa made her way to the centre of the arena, she did not look around. The worst that could happen was death. Physical injury? She could face that. Mental trial? She had locked the worst of her memories. Hopefully, they wouldn''t escape.

    Like Nestor said, when she reached the centre of the arena a stone basin pushed out and within the water was a needle.

    She pricked her finger with the needle and pressed a drop of blood into the water. Other than the basin returning to the stone ground, nothing spectacular happened.

    ¡°What would the daughter of Venetis¡¯ challenge be? A dryard? A sphinx? Perhaps, a mouse. We saw that one five months ago.¡± He laughed and the crowd joined in.

    Still no weapon. It seemed she would face a beast with her bare hands. Splendid.

    ¡°Daughter of Venetis, if you fail to conquer your beast in a horai, you shall be assigned to Dog House and made to retake the trial in a month.¡±

    Medusa chuffed. Hate to break it to you, but that¡¯s my house already.

    She tensed up when a large black hole appeared.

    Croak.

    A frog? Medusa took a quick step back when a black feathery head emerged from the hole. As more of the creature appeared, she frowned in confusion. This¡­

    ¡°A black heron?¡± There was shock in the Herald¡¯s voice and Medusa could guess why.

    It looked like one of the herons she saw at the bogs. Shiny black feathers, sharp long beak and yellow unblinking eyes. What was odd was the size of the thing.

    Medusa swallowed against a dry throat as she craned her neck to take in its size. Just how¡­

    Even I am shocked. A heron that size.

    Medusa stiffened at the sound of Clotho¡¯s voice in her head. You''re here?

    In a way.

    The black hole the bird emerged from vanished as it stood stock still waiting for what?

    Your lesson will be practical today.

    Lesson?

    Yes, lesson. Prodding your mind and body to remember.

    Remember what? And how was she to face the giant bird without a weapon? I don¡¯t have a weapon.

    I see that.

    Is that all you have to say? Panic crashed in.

    Though this is my first time teaching a mortal how to deity, I aim for excellence.

    Medusa frowned at the unexpected note of seriousness in Clotho¡¯s voice.

    With that in mind, you will break the record.

    What record?

    You will be the first unawakened mortal to defeat a beast under half a horai in Drys Valon.

    ¡°What?¡± Medusa asked out loud. Disbelief was an understatement. Defeat that in under an hour without a weapon? Was Clotho kidding?

    Though it seemed like the only odd thing about the bird was its impossible size, she sensed something deadly beneath the surface. And since it appeared, her instinct to flee had not stopped blaring in the background.

    Tell me you''re kidding.

    I''m not.

    The heron turned its head to the side, its yellow eye rolling as it stared at Medusa and stepped forward. Heart leaping to her throat, she took three steps back.

    Are you ready?

    The bird took another step forward.

    No. I¡¯m not ready. Medusa vigorously shook her head as she stumbled away. Hey! Are you listening? I¡¯m not¡ª

    Too bad.

    The bird looked up and unhinged his beak as its long neck rippled. Soon a cloud of deep green smoke rose from its mouth.

    What¡¯s it doing? Raw panic was taking over, and Medusa was finding it difficult to form a plan.

    The heron snapped its focus back to Medusa and before she could react, it spat sizzling green sludge at her.

 20. The Trial [2]

    Splat!

    Tsss¡­

    A harsh sulphuric odour rose from the melting spot on the stone ground and stung Medusa¡¯s nose. If she hadn¡¯t moved when she did, that would have been her¡ªa sizzling smoking goop of dead flesh.

    The bird having the same acid breath as an ekhidna made no sense. Nowhere had she read of such a creature existing.

    Stop gawking and move to your left.

    When Medusa obeyed Clotho¡¯s terse instruction, another splat hit the spot she had just escaped.

    That will be the last time I give you a warning. Focus.

    ¡°An acid-spitting heron? How unexpected.¡± There was a note of deranged glee in the herald''s voice. ¡°And for those who cannot tell due to the distance, May, daughter of Venetis, is unawakened. We are in for fantastic entertainment, Valonites!¡±

    These animals wanted to see her suffer! Medusa gritted her teeth as annoyance surged. And that annoyance pushed away her panic and made way for fierce determination.

    They expect me to fail. Their stare of crushing expectation pressed down on her. But I''ll disappoint you. I will disappoint you all.

    Clotho had said something about a lesson. If she could¡ª

    The heron pierced forward, beak moving like a rapier but Medusa leapt away again. A step of the bird covered three of hers. And it moved again and again, its sharp yellow gaze trained on her.

    Do you feel it?

    Feel what? Medusa asked as she fled from the bird, all her combat knowledge abandoned. Punches and kicks would not do. She had always been insanely fit in all her lives, so running shouldn¡¯t be a problem. That¡¯s if the heron didn¡¯t have some unfair advantage like superspeed or worse, taking to the sky.

    Your leaps, the speed of your run. Do you notice anything different?

    Medusa frowned, and then her eyes widened. Her speed had doubled, and there was something else... To test her suspicion, she leapt to the left and to her surprise, something gave her an extra lift before cushioning her landing.

    How? Medusa asked in shocked excitement. This went beyond the norm. It felt like there were literal springs in her steps. This is amazing!

    No time to sing about it. There was a stern note of urgency in Clotho¡¯s voice. In the air around you¡ªeven in the Grecian continent¡ªthere is aether. But in Tartarus, the air is thicker with it. You must learn to manipulate it.

    How do¡ª

    With unexpected speed, the bird shot forward.

    Medusa¡¯s heart sank as two horrifying realisations registered. The heron had superspeed, and she wasn''t fast enough to escape the bird¡¯s coming attack.

    She could only manage a slight shift to the left, turning at the last moment to shield her heart from direct impact. The heron¡¯s head slammed into her side.

    A raw cry of agony ripped through her throat as the forceful collision sent her soaring through the air. Her lower ribs¡­ the sawing pain made breathing impossible.

    Collect yourself! You will crack your skull if you hit the ground without leaning into aether.

    Clotho¡¯s warning came too late.

    Crack.

    Medusa¡¯s neck twisted as her temple struck the earth. The blinding pain. Nausea churned in her belly and travelled up. Her body would not move. Each breath was a blood-laced choked wheeze.

    I¡¯m dying. Medusa was too familiar with the feeling to not recognise it.

    Half a horai, remember? Clotho¡¯s voice maintained its cool detachment.

    I¡¯m dying, Clotho. Medusa twitched, her fingers and legs spasming. Black bled into her vision. This last struggle¡­ so familiar.

    She vaguely registered the earth thudding rhythmically beneath her ear. The bird was approaching.

    I have to move, but this irresistible slumberous feeling. Her body smothered her will to cling to life. I¡­ I think I have to sleep. I couldn¡¯t headbutt it, Antonii. If I let go, I may meet you. We¡¯ll be together. Maybe¡­

    So, this is the face of my liberator.

    Medusa blinked her eyes open and came upon an unexpected sight. She was lying on her side in a spread of still black waters. The sky possessed the dim blue of dusk and her nose picked no smell.

    But you are like him. How?

    The speaker had an angry feminine voice, and she was out of sight.

    Like who? Medusa frowned. Her voice box would not move and this¡­ she blinked again as her frown deepened. This was not like the other deaths she had experienced. For some reason it evoked fear.

    Medusa attempted to speak again. ¡°Where am I?¡± This time she felt her lips move but did not hear the words.

    STAB.

    She flinched as a large silver thread snipper pierced the water inches from her face. Too close. The water rippled when a hooded figure appeared next to the snipper and casually leaned against it.

    Your eyes do not tremble with terror. I see why she chose you. The hooded being hunkered down and rested her arms on her knees. Her nails were sharp and painted black, and beyond the shadow of her hood were glowing blue eyes.

    ¡°You are dangerous,¡± Medusa said. Something about this entity reminded her of Clotho but if Clotho¡¯s warmth was replaced with a chilling malevolent air.

    You have correctly spoken. Like I said, you are like him. She extended her index finger.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡± Medusa''s instinct screamed for her to get as far as she could from this being but her body was frozen.

    Oho. Wary as well. You truly remind me of that man from long ago. I¡ª She suddenly canted her head to the right as if listening for something, then Medusa felt the prod of her intrusive gaze like physical fingers stabbing her brain.

    I see, you¡¯ve even met him. Though she spoke the words quietly, they were laced with venom. The air charged up as she surged to her feet. If she was enraged before, now her fury was a burning physical force that cooked Medusa where she lay.

    Is that why she chose you? Her hood fell away as she retrieved her large snipper with a forceful hand. Her long damp hair swished with her movement as her glowing eyes reduced to furious slits.

    Medusa gawked. How was it possible to look ancient and young at the same time? Runes marked a line down her forehead, she spotted obsidian piercings along the shell of her ears and thin silver chains hung from her nose rings to each ear. Despite her fierce scowl, she was still stunningly beautiful.

    I am grateful for your initial unintentional help, but what must be done must be done.

    Why are you angry? Medusa longed to ask the question, but her lips couldn¡¯t form the words as she was further pressed under the storm of the being¡¯s fury.

    The goddess lifted her snipper, the twin silver blades shining ominously. After I kill you, I will find that sneaky rat and kill him too.

    Oh, well. I guess this is¡ª A sudden warmth pulsed around Medusa¡¯s wrist, shot to her heart and wracked her body with a great pulse of electricity.

    One blink, and she was back at the arena.

    Quick. Get up. That bird is looking at you like it''s next meal.

    Medusa¡¯s neck snapped back in place as her airway cleared up. The pain faded to a dull throb. She sat upright.

    Frowning, Medusa looked at her wrist. She would have died for real if the beaded band hadn¡¯t helped at the last moment. And that being she met. Was she Clotho¡¯s sister? Who was the other person she longed to kill?

    Clotho, I¡ª

    Focus! If you die here, all this will be for nothing.

    Fine. I¡¯ll tell you later.

    Like Clotho said, the bird was making its way in her direction. It moved in a halting manner; one thin leg up, head turned to the side, yellow eyes rolling as it observed her.

    Step. Pause. Stare. Repeat.

    At the feel of something sliding down her temple, she wiped at the spot and the strip of cloth around her arm came back bloody.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Tell me how to defeat it. Medusa staggered to her feet, retreating a few steps as she observed the bird.

    Use the aether around you as a path to control air.

    Huh? Medusa frowned, beyond confused. She had never heard of the possibility of manipulating air like aether. And why was Clotho speaking like it was something Medusa could simply figure out?

    The heron spread its wings, appearing even larger than it already did. Now it no longer took halting steps as it approached Medusa.

    How do I do that? When Medusa backtracked, the bird maintained her speed.

    Push against that feeling of aether around you. When you entered Tartarus, recall you said you felt a buzz against your skin.

    Yes, but I¡¯m already pushing against aether. The leap and landing, isn¡¯t that it?

    Oh¡­ you are right. Then do as I instructed.

    Medusa groaned in frustration. I don''t understand.

    The heron increased its walk to a trot. Medusa kicked up her speed and as she did, she tried it again. She leaned to the side as if about to fall but there was a recoil as expected.

    What next¡ªshe yelped and leapt away when the heron nipped at her with a loud snap. How was it so fast?

    She pressed into her run some more and, to her surprise, her speed increased in answer. This feeling¡­ It was almost like the sensation she got whenever she speed-swam.

    That¡¯s it. Be more intentional about leaning into aether in all your movements.

    The heron stopped, released a drawn-out croak and ejected a line of thick acidic sludge her way. To Medusa¡¯s horror, it did not stop in a single spew. Another followed after her.

    Splat. Splat.

    A few drops got her across the back and the spots burned like fire. She staggered from the sudden pain but managed to right her steps with her arms wildly flailing. The flailing helped too¡ªmade it seem like she was wading through water.

    ¡°Such speed!¡± The herald cried. ¡°But it seems running is the only feat she''s capable of.¡±

    Now you feel it, yes? You are even faster.

    I do. But that damn bird was still catching up. And the run was ridiculous. She felt like a child fleeing a territorial cockerel, only this cockerel was at least seven feet tall.

    Next lesson. Air is weaker than aether but more abundant.

    At her faster pace, the heron flapped its wings as its yellow eyes dyed to a deep orange tinge.

    The bird¡­ something seems¡ª

    What can you use as a weapon?

    They didn¡¯t give me any!

    Standing still in the centre of the arena, the bird tracked her movement with now orange eyes.

    Think, Medusa. Even now, I can see a way.

    Medusa hissed in frustration when the heron lowered its body and flapped its wings.

    I think it¡¯s about to fly.

    If that happens, it will take more than half a horai to kill it. What can you use as a weapon?

    What can I use? Think.

    I could shout?

    That would not work. You suffered internal injuries from your last use. Did your aunt not tell you?

    Oh. Now that she thought of it, she had nearly died the last time she used it. Then what else could she¡­ Medusa''s gaze dropped to the strip of cloth around her arms. Maybe.

    Halting her run, she brought her palm to her mouth and tugged at the knot with her teeth.

    Look. She waved at the bird. I''m not running anymore. Chase me. Just, don¡¯t fly, please.

    The strip of cloth was fairly long and quite tough. If she could find a way to loop it around the bird¡¯s thin legs.

    Because air is weaker than aether, it works best on objects. You¡¯ve been leaning into aether; now it''s time for air. What you¡¯re holding is inanimate¡­ Do you understand what I''m hinting at?

    It took an instant for understanding to strike.

    ¡°YES!¡± Medusa shouted with a relieved laugh. Strangely, it felt like knowledge she possessed for the longest time but forgot for some reason.

    ¡°May laughs at her foe,¡± said the herald. ¡°A brave one. Perhaps, she¡¯s fitting for the Manticores.¡±

    A section of the crowd cheered in answer. As if enraged by the crowd¡¯s reaction, the heron rushed forward with its wings spread and body low.

    Try it now.

    Medusa shut her eyes and sharpened her senses.

    If aether felt like a soft force around her body, air was sharper. And it was with that in mind she shot for the approaching bird with the strip of cloth trailing behind.

    At the moment its beak would have stabbed her head, Medusa dropped to her knees and propelled her slide between the bird¡¯s legs with the pull of aether.

    One twist of her wrist and the cloth stiffened, sharpened and moved at an arch.

    Slice.

    A pained croak.

    Not giving the bird a moment to collect itself, Medusa sprung to her feet and ran around it.

    The cloth had cut its left leg to the bone. Soot rose from the wound as the bird released an enraged croak in her direction. Medusa winced at the deafening sound but pumped power to her feet. If she could find a way to use the cloth as a lasso to tie the heron''s feet.

    Seeming to figure out her plan, the bird twisted around and raced in her direction¡ªthat and the fact that its eyes were now blood red.

    Not good. Not good at all.

    The heron suddenly paused, but its red gaze remained locked on her. Its throat expanded like a frog¡¯s coupled with gurgling sounds and rippling.

    ¡°This¡­¡± Medusa gritted her teeth. What was this bird? Did it have an endless reservoir of acid in its gut or what? And she was beginning to feel fatigued. Her muscles were screaming and her tunic stuck to her body from sweat.

    It''s time for the final lesson.

    The bird went low, feathery bulbous sac swaying as it twisted its neck this way and that. One red feral eye remained pinned on Medusa.

    It¡¯s planning something. I must run now.

    The deluge came.

    Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.

    Wheezing, Medusa pressed forward with all her might barely noticing the line of blood sliding down her nostril. The heat of the bird¡¯s acid stung her heel as she struggled to run even faster.

    Clotho, the final lesson!

    Repeat this word: ???

    What?

    Hmm. I assumed if I spoke it into your mind you would understand, but that seems not to be the case.

    When her senses flared in warning, Medusa leapt forward, tripped and fell into a fast roll. She looked back in time to see green sludge spread even wider. The ground was fast becoming a minefield of boiling potholes.

    Shooting back to her feet, Medusa resumed her run. Now her breaths were harsh pants. At first, leaning into aether had been exhilarating but what was this agonising fatigue?

    Clotho, please!

    And she couldn''t afford to slow down. The air stung from the steam the acid produced. Breathing was painful.

    I''m dying of exhaustion.

    How do you say it? Umm¡­ Breathing?

    ¡°Breathing,¡± Medusa repeated as she ran.

    Not in Greek. You say it with authority. Grab the word by its root. That is the real Theos tongue. The language of creation.

    But I can''t understand it to even repeat it.

    Say ??? Grab the word.

    I''m telling you I can''t understand the word you¡¯re speaking. Inhaling was painful; it was like the walls of her throat were scraped raw and bleeding.

    If you cannot, then there¡¯s nothing I can do. There was a note of resignation in Clotho''s voice.

    Are you joking? Medusa skidded to a halt. And the heron took that chance. It flapped its wings and shot for her at the speed of a blink.

    Acting on instinct, Medusa grabbed its open beak.

    Mistake. Big mistake. The heron''s strength was monstrous. Its open mouth was dark red and below its tongue was a hole the size of a large fist.

    The bird pushed, causing her back to slam to the earth and slide across the ground. If Medusa recalled correctly, there should be potholes of boiling acid ahead. Did it intend to push her in?

    ¡°Breathing,¡± Medusa yelled in panicked desperation.

    Your body is too exhausted. Feel the aether around you and try again. This is important.

    How can I do that when I can¡¯t even comprehend the word you spoke? Mortals can''t speak Theos tongue!

    How confounding, Clotho mused. I did not expect teaching to be difficult.

    The back of Medusa¡¯s tunic frayed as the bird continued pushing her across the ground. Her back and arm muscles were on fire. And as its hot breath fanned her face, her eyes stung.

    Clotho, say something.

    I¡¯m trying to think but my extensive knowledge shows no immediate way you can learn the phrase.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± Medusa muttered bitterly in English.

    This demon bird would overpower me and pierce my head in front of an audience. Her eyes stung for another reason. And¡­ and I''m exhausted, damn it.

    Medusa¡¯s eyes widened when the bird¡¯s throat began vibrating.

    No. No. No. Not again.

    Clotho, I really do not want to die like this.

    Try harder. You¡¯re the child of two deities. Theos tongue should come naturally to you.

    ¡°Breathing!¡± Medusa yelled.

    Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

    Medusa shut her eyes and resisted the urge to sob. Violent deaths were the worst. ¡°Please, breathing.¡±

    Keep trying. ???

    Absolute gibberish. Nothing registered in Medusa¡¯s mind.

    Maybe I''m adopted.

    When she opened her eyes, her heart sank. Wisps of green smoke coiled out of the hole beneath the bird''s tongue. And that harsh rotten smell of sulphur.

    This thing¡­ this thing is going to melt my head. Along with the terrifying realisation came a wild desperation. There had to be a way of escape.

    Everything. She''d pour everything into her next move. Medusa exhaled in preparation. Drawing in a short breath, she shouted and stumped her left foot with great force. The aether around gave her an extra boost as she arched her back and willed her legs to move fast using the momentum of the bird.

    And it worked. It worked!

    Medusa was back on her feet, beak still firmly in her grip.

    But it was too late.

    Since she was close, she saw how it worked. From the hole beneath the bird¡¯s tongue, the sizzling sludge bubbled forth as green smoke spread.

    Medusa, try again. ???

    At Clotho¡¯s repeated word, something loosened in Medusa¡¯s mind and comprehension rushed in. And this root word Clotho spoke of could be improved. Without thinking much about it, she tweaked it based on other languages she had learned in her past lives.

    ¡°Breathing.¡±

    Aether answered. It rushed through her nostrils, pulverised fatigue and strengthened every muscle. An abundance of air hummed around her, begging to be used. And everything slowed down.

    Medusa blinked at the bubbling venom beneath the bird''s tongue.

    So simple. All she had to do was close its beak.

    Her arms moved in afterimages as she grabbed its beak and slammed it shut. The strips of cloth around her arm moved at her guidance and tightly held it close.

    Time was restored the instant she leapt away.

    A muffled explosion.

    Green sludge sprayed as the bird¡¯s head and throat ruptured in a mess of charred flesh and bones. Its remains plopped forward, thin feet kicking in its last struggle before crumbling to ash.

    Medusa collapsed to her knees in stunned disbelief. First, there was silence, then a thunderous cheer erupted in the background but she didn''t care.

    You. Clotho laughed. You did it. I knew it the moment I saw you, you bright child. Brilliant. Brilliant, indeed.

    I did it. I really did it. She flexed her fingers before her face as a bewildered chuckle escaped her lips. I can defend myself.

    ¡°Thank you, Clotho,¡± Medusa whispered, meaning the words from her soul. Thank you.

    It''s my joy to help, mortal. And this is only the beginning.

 21. Blue Tears

    That was more effective than the root word I gave you. Clotho laughed. She was still caught up in the excitement of Medusa¡¯s win. You used your knowledge of alien languages to modify it. Am I correct?

    Yes. From what Medusa could see from the distance, the instructors were having a heated debate. No one gave instructions on what to do next, so she simply stood at the centre of the arena with the fast-dispersing ash of the heron to her left. Clotho, I¡ª

    Another unexpected variable. Clotho¡¯s voice turned contemplative. How interesting. Hmm¡­

    Medusa needed to tell Clotho about the strange being she met but the goddess was distracted. It seemed modifying breathing had shocked her. Now she mumbled in Theos tongue, almost as if she had forgotten their mind link was still open.

    Clotho, when I nearly died, I met a¡ª

    ¡°For the first time in Drys Valon¡¯s history, a contender completed the challenge in less than half a horai!¡±

    The crowd cheered. Even more eyes on her. Medusa resisted the urge to shift on her feet or cross her arms; showing a bold front was important in this kind of environment.

    But what was this strange feeling? She had gotten the same sensation when she left the auction house¡ªa sense of being watched, though this time it felt heavier and more oppressive.

    Ignore the outsiders, Clotho said as if she could read Medusa¡¯s mind. There¡¯s a reason Demeter is called the Wicked Woman; every child in Drys Valon is under her protection. You should be more concerned about the students. I sense their wariness and envy¡­ even ill intent.

    Not again. Medusa groaned internally. She could deal with a few envious teens, but the mean-spirited calculating ones were the worst. In all her lives, such clashes were recurrent with one ending in her death.

    Death. Medusa stopped herself from touching her neck. She was certain that the angry goddess would have severed her head if she hadn¡¯t regained consciousness at the last moment.

    I must be careful. Near-death experiences were a no-no from now on.

    Medusa sighed as her mental exhaustion doubled. When last did she get proper sleep? And what next? She was sick of standing and getting speared with stares.

    Someone stepped into the Arena. At first, Medusa thought he was a child, but she quickly dismissed the idea when he stopped in front of her. His sharp, worldly eyes and dignified gait and posture suggested otherwise. A midget probably.

    He looked up and offered a quick smile. ¡°I am Thersandros.¡±

    Medusa frowned. This voice¡­ he was the herald. Quite surprising. She had expected some mouthy loony, not a midget with a commanding aura.

    ¡°Thank you for the performance,¡± he said in a low, measured voice. ¡°That was beyond commendable for an unawakened mortal.¡±

    Unsure of how to respond, Medusa said her thanks with a straight face.

    ¡°As a gift for your entertaining performance, you may ask me any three questions in the future.¡± A haughty smile touched his lips as he tapped his temple. ¡°I know many useful things within and outside the shores of Tartarus.¡±

    Before she could respond, he turned to the crowd. ¡°You have all been waiting for this moment!¡±

    Medusa''s brow shot up. How did he make his voice so loud without hurting her ears? Was it aether manipulation? If she used the principles of aether Clotho taught her, could she achieve that too?

    Clotho said aether was more abundant in Tartarus. What if she combined her recent knowledge of aether, applied breathing and shouted? How much damage would that cause? Goose pimples raced across her arms at the catastrophic possibility.

    No. Medusa stomped out the thought. She suspected that shouting with enhanced aether, even unintentionally, would be extremely dangerous¡ªnot just for her target but for herself as well.

    ¡°Which house gets May, daughter of Venetis? The Manticores, Hydras, Chimeras, or Dogs?¡± Thersandros pointed to each section of the spectators as he called their names, eliciting cheers from all but the Dogs, who met him with stony silence.

    ¡°I have the verdict here!¡± He raised a small stone slab before bringing it to his face to read its contents. The corner of his lips kicked up. ¡°As many would expect, May will be joining the Manti¡ª¡±

    He stopped talking and inclined his head to the left. ¡°I see¡­¡± He glanced Medusa¡¯s way with a look of confusion before shifting his gaze back to the stone slab. ¡°Yes. Yes. As many would expect, May will be joining the Dogs.¡±

    A collective gasp. Even Clotho gasped before bursting into laughter. So many variables with this one. How refreshing.

    Medusa would have laughed as well but her mood was fast tanking. I need to sleep. Despite breathing getting rid of her fatigue, there was another weariness she was feeling, almost like she had exceeded her brain¡¯s capacity. Her mental exhaustion was worsening.

    I will be back.

    Wait¡ª

    Before Medusa could finish speaking, Clotho¡¯s presence vanished.

    Medusa looked at the section where the dogs sat. If they were happy to have her in their team, it did not show. Their silence remained, some even standing to leave.

    ¡°What did you do to anger the goddess?¡±

    Medusa blinked down at Thersandros. Though his stoic expression remained, she sensed a pressure on her mind to satisfy his curiosity.

    ¡°Are you a member of a spying guild?¡±

    Surprise flashed in his eyes. ¡°How did you¡­?¡± Wariness soon replaced surprise. He frowned and observed her more carefully. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Should she have simply answered his question? Having the attention of a spy before she had settled in was beyond burdensome. ¡°I¡¯ve been told I¡¯m strange for a mortal.¡± Which was true. ¡°I sensed something odd about your question, and my question slipped before I could stop it.¡± Another truth.

    From the corner of her eyes, Medusa saw more spectators were beginning to leave.

    ¡°I see.¡± He touched his chin, still frowning with suspicion. ¡°How old are you?¡±

    ¡°May.¡± It was Nestor who called. She turned in time to see him step into the arena and nod at Thersandros. The herald offered a sharp bow and took his leave, but not before promising to see her around. Whatever that meant.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Like I said, you did not need my encouragement,¡± Nestor said.

    Medusa could almost swear she saw a subtle but proud smile.

    ¡°Follow me. Your reward awaits.¡±

    ***

    In the wooden box were three mid-grade aether stones, two scroll canisters, a uniform¡ªdyed brown mid-thigh tunic with leather trimmings¡ªand an armband with a hound¡¯s head engraving. She could also keep the beaded band until she awakened.

    ¡°The stones are a reward for all who finish their trial on the first try,¡± Nestor said as he led her down a pristine passageway. According to Nestor, this was the administrative wing that housed instructors¡¯ offices and collection posts.

    ¡°Usually, winners receive two mid-grade stones but an extra was added because you broke a record.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Even though she was clueless on how to use aether stones.

    ¡°You should thank the goddess. It is her we are going to meet.¡±

    Face Demeter again? Medusa held the box tighter as she recalled the goddess¡¯s earlier rage. ¡°Is she still angry?¡±

    ¡°She watched your performance and wished to see you.¡± They turned left and came upon a corridor that opened to a fanciful courtyard paved with polished onyx tiles and a bubbling fountain at its centre.

    ¡°Perhaps this is good for you,¡± Nestor mused as they continued across the courtyard. ¡°You may have impressed her.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Soon they stopped before a plain wooden door. After knocking once, it opened without a sound.

    Demeter was waiting in a sitting area overlooking a small vibrant garden. Her posture was stiff with her small hands primly resting on her thighs and the hem of her dress pooled around her feet.

    At least the angry tension had lifted. Medusa exhaled in relief. Perhaps if she asked for Rico again, she might show mercy.

    Nestor gestured for Medusa to settle across the goddess. A decanter holding what resembled wine and a polished goblet sat on the low table between them. It reminded her of her first meeting with Clotho but a thousand times less grand.

    ¡°You surprised me,¡± Demeter finally said after a stretch of silence.

    Medusa scanned the small garden. No sign of Rico. Her focus returned to the goddess. Turning her expression imploring, she clasped her hands and bowed. ¡°I beg you to show this mortal benevolence and return my pet. He''s a precious gift from my father.¡±

    ¡°Oh. You should have said so earlier,¡± she said dryly before reaching for the decanter and pouring the red liquid into the goblet. ¡°First, tell me how you did it?¡±

    ¡°Did what?¡±

    ¡°How could you move with such speed despite being a mortal?¡± She tilted her head and pierced Medusa with a probing stare. ¡°You are an unawakened blood carrier; moving like that should be impossible. Tell me how you did it.¡±

    If Clotho didn¡¯t trust Demeter with that detail, neither would Medusa. ¡°I was simply desperate to survive.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm. Desperate to survive.¡± Demeter¡¯s brow bunched, the action shattering the serenity of her doll-like face. ¡°That is a feeling I cannot¡­¡± Her gaze slid back to Medusa. ¡°And the language you spoke before you killed the bird? It sounded like Theos tongue but not.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m certain I spoke Greek,¡± Medusa answered. She made sure to keep her tone earnest and her gaze unwavering.

    ¡°Are you saying I am mistaken? Nestor,¡± She inclined her head in his direction, ¡°you also heard her speak in a strange tongue, yes?¡±

    ¡°You are correct,¡± he answered with a subtle bow.

    Her flat gaze returned to Medusa. ¡°See?¡±

    ¡°I was speaking Greek,¡± Medusa repeated. And she was getting tired of this conversation. She longed for a bed¡­ and Rico.

    ¡°Do you know what it means for a deity to feel curiosity?¡± Light sparked in the goddess¡¯s eyes before vanishing almost as fast. ¡°You make me curious, mortal girl.¡±

    ¡°I do not know if I should be flattered or terrified,¡± Medusa replied flatly. The more her exhaustion grew, the more she didn¡¯t give a damn if she was speaking to a deity or some random rock. ¡°Can you tell me what I must do to get my pet?¡±

    The goddess released a sound between a huff and a dry chuckle. ¡°She doesn¡¯t even sound like a child.¡±

    A vial containing blue liquid appeared in Demeter¡¯s hand. She raised it to a shaft of sunlight and peered at its content. ¡°You do not know what your days in Drys Valon would be like.¡± She took her time uncocking the vial. ¡°Yet, you wish to drag a poor kitten along.¡± She tipped the vial. One blue drop fell into her cup. A wisp of purple smoke curled out before dispersing. ¡°One moment you act like a brat and the next you speak like a worn cynical soul. You make me curious.¡±

    Demeter emptied the goblet in one gulp.

    The change was instant. Her stiff posture loosened as she sank into her seat with a drawn-out sigh. Though her eyes were shut, they moved behind her lids as she clutched the arms of her chair in a death grip.

    Medusa eyed the vial with suspicion. Was that some kind of cocaine for deities? Nestor also appeared surprised.

    ¡°Do not look so wary.¡± Even the goddess¡¯ voice changed to a breezy cadence. She opened her eyes. The earlier flatness was gone, replaced by a relaxed but clear shine. ¡°It helps me remember¡­¡± her voice faded with a note of sadness. ¡°Yes, even the bad memories, all are precious,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Medusa looked from puzzled Nestor to the goddess. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°You said you want your pet back.¡± Demeter waved. Like an illusion falling away, a cage appeared at her feet.

    ¡°Rico!¡± Medusa attempted to rise but found she couldn¡¯t. The goddess had gotten her vines on her without her notice. They curled around her torso, fastening her to her seat.

    ¡°No matter how I look at it, the name Rico doesn¡¯t suit him.¡± The goddess fixed adoring eyes on Rico and to Medusa¡¯s delight he bore his little fangs and hissed at her.

    ¡°Cute.¡± With her focus still on Rico, she said, ¡°Perhaps, Menis or Orge. Fierce names.¡±

    ¡°His name is Rico,¡± Medusa spat.

    The goddess blinked at her. ¡°What a strange girl.¡± Sighing, she straightened. ¡°Fine. I give you five months.¡±

    ¡°To do what?¡±

    ¡°I had a water cat when I was nine. Her name was Ari,¡± Demeter said with a soft wistful smile.

    Medusa gawked. ¡°You¡­ you were once nine?¡± Even Nestor appeared shocked. How? Didn¡¯t high deities manifest like stars fully formed?

    At their reaction, Demeter cackled¡ªfull-bellied laughter with her head thrown back and shoulders shaking. ¡°Oh Nestor, do not widen your eyes in such a manner. You look like a fish owl.¡±

    Catching her breath, she wiped tears off the corner of her eyes. ¡°I haven¡¯t laughed this hard in ages. Even my face hurts but I love it.¡± She cradled her cheeks and shook her head, eyes sparkling with delight. ¡°By Nyx, I love Blue Tears.¡±

    ¡°Demeter,¡± Nestor appeared genuinely concerned as he took a tentative step in her direction, ¡°What has happened to you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m alive, can¡¯t you see? You wouldn¡¯t understand. You¡¯re still a baby after all.¡± She turned to Medusa. ¡°Make something out of them and you will have your pet back.¡±

    ¡°Out of who?¡±

    ¡°The Dog House.¡±

    Medusa looked at Nestor for clarity but his expression remained troubled as he continued observing the goddess.

    ¡°I do not understand.¡±

    ¡°The longest time it took me to tame a beast was one month,¡± Demeter said and returned her focus to the cage. Rico pressed against the corner but the goddess didn¡¯t seem to mind his aversion for her. ¡°With a water cat, it should be far less. Five months is a merciful consideration. Do you understand?¡± She slid her gaze to Medusa.

    Medusa bit the inside of her lower lip as understanding dawned. What a shameless thing to do. ¡°Thank you for your generous consideration,¡± she said past gritted teeth. ¡°By making something of them, what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Most of those in Dog House come from wealthy and powerful houses. Their sponsors paid a hefty fee, and some students came through recommendations from high deities I couldn¡¯t refuse. I wish to show results.¡±

    ¡°So, you need a mortal girl to make them show results?¡± She had never heard something more ridiculous.

    ¡°Correct!¡± Demeter said with a bright smile. If the goddess was pretty before, her unrestrained smile shot her looks to the stratosphere.

    Medusa scowled. ¡°Did you forget how old I am?¡±

    ¡°Fourteen,¡± Demeter answered as she made cute faces at Rico. He hissed in response.

    ¡°You gave me an impossible task to justify taking Rico from me,¡± Medusa muttered bitterly.

    ¡°I¡¯m a high goddess and, in case you¡¯ve forgotten, also the owner of this establishment.¡± Demeter waved and Rico winked out of sight. ¡°If I want your pet, I can simply take it.¡±

    The vines holding Medusa fell away and slithered out of sight. ¡°So, why not simply take him?¡±

    ¡°Would you believe me if I said I see potential in you?¡± The goddess rested her chin on her fist and lazily smiled at Medusa. ¡°But you don¡¯t look like you believe me.¡±

    When Medusa said nothing, Demeter stood and stretched with a graceful arch. There was a look of thorough relaxation on her face.

    ¡°Nestor, you may take her to the dogs.¡± The vial of Blue Tears vanished as she retrieved her decanter and goblet. ¡°Now that I remember what¡¯s important, I should go on a trip. Nestor, you are in charge.¡±

    Raising her goblet in a playful salute, she winked out of sight.

 22. The Dog House

    ¡°This is the head of Dog House.¡± The escort Nestor assigned to Medusa nodded at a slouching boy of about seventeen. ¡°He will guide you.¡± Before Medusa could give a reply, she turned and left.

    Medusa stared after the escort until she took a bend. This almost felt like her first day as a priestess, only she had her sisters then and there were no trials. Oh, and she wasn''t required to stay in a dorm that clearly lacked structural integrity.

    Unlike the grand structures she passed on her way here, the Dog House''s dorm had large cracks spanning its walls and towering pillars. Thick vines from the surrounding bushes spread over the crumbling surface and burrowed into the cracks.

    Demeter must really love the dogs.

    ¡°I¡¯m May,¡± Medusa said as she returned her attention to the boy.

    ¡°Vyron,¡± he replied with a nod, then a puzzled frown wrinkled his brow. ¡°Still hard to believe they gave you to us.¡±

    Medusa shrugged and looked around some more. Turfs of grass across the stone ground, and at the centre of the expansive frontage was a dead fountain holding a dilapidated sculpture of a cerberus.

    ¡°It¡¯s true what they said. You¡¯re unawakened.¡± There was awe in Vyron¡¯s voice.

    Medusa¡¯s gaze slid back to him. Now that she observed him closely, she saw he had the haggard appearance of a person shackled with burdensome responsibility. Were the dogs that hard to manage? Or his tired look could be a front¡ªappear unassuming and strike when her guard was down. Now that Medusa thought of it, there may be deities playing mortal in Drys Valon, too. Chilling unease crept up her spine.

    ¡°You seem like a quiet one.¡±

    Medusa blinked at him and shrugged again. ¡°If¡­ if you think so.¡±

    The beginning of a headache throbbed behind her eyes. ¡°Can we go in now?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± He made his way to the low steps leading to the tall weather-beaten dorm door. ¡°Fair warning, the dogs may not be as powerful as those from other houses, but they are twice as mean and opportunistic. Instructor Nestor may have told you.¡±

    ¡°Instructor?¡±

    ¡°You too? I also couldn¡¯t tell at first. Face too young.¡± Vyron motioned at his own face. ¡°He¡¯s the head gymnasiarch and a low deity. You¡¯ll see him often¡­ and loathe his training,¡± he added with a wince.

    ¡°Noted.¡± I really need to sleep. Medusa blinked hard to shake off her rising drowsiness.

    Vyron¡¯s gaze dropped to the box she held. ¡°You may have to ask someone to keep that in their pocket.¡±

    ¡°Pocket?¡±

    Vyron paused midstep, expression shifting from exhausted to mild surprise. ¡°You do not know what a pocket is?¡±

    Medusa shook her head.

    He stretched an arm and flicked his wrist. A wooden practice sword appeared in his grip. ¡°We are not allowed to keep real weapons in it. More talented students have larger pockets.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± So that¡¯s what it¡¯s called. She made a mental note to ask Clotho how to create one.

    Vyron paused as if waiting for her to say more. When she said nothing, he continued speaking. ¡°I¡¯ll recommend some trustworthy people.¡± He stopped at the base of the steps. ¡°Aether stones are beyond precious here. Having those puts a target on your back.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Medusa winced as the pain of her headache doubled.

    So, aside from settling in, she had to trust a stranger to keep her property safe. She took a closer look at the stones. They resembled red opals the size of a chicken¡¯s egg, but in their core, a dim yellow mass swirled. Another odd thing was that she wasn¡¯t feeling any sensitivity to the stones like she did in the past.

    Vyron''s expression turned serious. ¡°When we get in, you will be offered four plaques. Black, white, green and red. I advise that you choose black. The watchers always protect their own.¡±

    ¡°And I need protection because?¡± Medusa stifled a yawn and rubbed her eyes. Just let me sleep.

    ¡°Look.¡± Though the serious look remained in his eyes, concern joined in. ¡°I know for an unawakened you did marvellously at the arena, but what you displayed is nothing¡ªnothing compared to what an average dog can do. They will tear you apart and loot your belongings.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Medusa mumbled solemnly. She massaged her temple as her headache worsened. ¡°Say, what do the other colours stand for?¡±

    Though it seemed like Vyron was looking out for her, she couldn¡¯t shake off her unease. For all she knew, black could be the worst of the four. Blind trust gets you killed.

    Vyron released a tired sigh and started up the steps. ¡°Greens are the cooks. They¡¯re the weakest and get picked on. Whites maintain the dorm.¡± He gave their environment a pointed look. ¡°They are the laziest. The reds are gatherers.¡±

    ¡°What do they gather?¡±

    Vyron casually pointed at the left where the bushes grew more untamed and blended into a ticket. ¡°Take that path west and you''ll enter Agria¡¯s Nest¡ªa deadly forest. Because the dogs receive rations only twice in six days, the reds go there to gather more¡­ supplies.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Medusa did not see, but she was able to make some deductions. Common sense said red would be the worst option, but for some reason, it attracted her the most. Probably because of her second life. After the sea, the forest was her next best place.

    ¡°But if you join the blacks, you¡¯ll be a night watcher. They¡¯re closely knit and hold a strong ethic on protecting their own.¡±

    Medusa cocked her head. Why was he hard-selling these watchers?

    ¡°Why?¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    He lifted a nicked brow. ¡°Why what?¡±

    ¡°Why would any sane person pick anything but white?¡±

    ¡°Because those who newly join Dog House do not know what the colours represent.¡±

    ¡°And you kindly told me what they represent because?¡±

    Judging from how he frowned, her question must have taken him aback. What? Only an idiot would take such a selfless gesture at face value.

    His expression grew flat. ¡°As the head of Dog House, I was looking out for an unawakened. You cannot survive without protection. Even that wouldn¡¯t do.¡± He gave the beaded band around her wrist a pointed look before walking to the double door and pushing it open.

    The grating creak from rusty hinges loudly announced their arrival.

    As Medusa and Vyron walked in, boys and girls filtered into the expansive quadrangle ahead. On the two upper floors, more appeared, some leaning on the railing as they peered at her. Talk about crushing stares.

    The dorm¡¯s interior resembled its crumbling exterior¡ªmore vines in cracks. Ahead, a large tattered flag with a crest of a fire-breathing hound hung from the roof. The filthy thing looked like it had been hanging there for ages.

    Murmurs increased as Vyron led Medusa to the elevated platform across the quadrangle. She felt it then, the predatory way some looked at the box she held. Vyron was correct; they would tear her apart to get the stones.

    Medusa sighed internally. This was too much for her exhausted mind to manage. And her sawing headache was quickly souring her mood.

    ¡°Dogs!¡± Vyron''s voice did that amplifying thing but not as loud or refined as the herald¡¯s. ¡°This is May, daughter of Venetis and the newest member of our house.¡±

    ¡°We know that already,¡± someone shouted. Laughter erupted from the gathering.

    So, Vyron wasn¡¯t respected. Medusa tucked away the discovery for later consideration.

    If Vyron was upset by their laughter, it did not show. ¡°According to tradition, May will select a post. Bring the plaques.¡±

    A knobby-kneed girl rushed forward. In her hand was a slab holding four small plaques with varying colours.

    ¡°M-make your choice,¡± she said with eyes downcast. Medusa spied a green plaque tied to her belt. Another quick glance around and she saw everyone except Vyron had plaques tied to their belts.

    Medusa stretched her hand towards black.

    ¡°Stop!¡±

    A boy leapt from the second floor and landed with a force that caused a small tremor. Medusa frowned, finding herself more worried about the durability of the crumbling dorm than the approaching huffing boy. And why did he look like an English bull terrier? She cocked her head to get a better view. Small, far-apart eyes and oblong face. Definitely a terrier. And the plaque swinging from his belt was white. Interesting.

    ¡°What is it, Eristes?¡± Vyron asked in an exasperated voice.

    ¡°I have a demand regarding her.¡± Eristes stabbed a finger in Medusa¡¯s direction. ¡°A demand I am sure most would agree with.¡±

    What now? Medusa gritted her teeth when the pulsing pain in her head doubled. Glancing around, her frustration mounted. Even if she were to find a bed this instant, could she safely sleep in this place?

    ¡°Such a shining talented individual should be assigned to an appropriate post,¡± Eristes said with a sneer. The hum of conversion rose, with a few nodding.

    Vyron made a face, appearing annoyed for the first time. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±

    ¡°Why am I doing this?¡± Eristes shifted his focus to Medusa and offered a mocking smile. ¡°Because we have a true gem in our midst, one who nearly joined the Manticores but was thrown to us at the last moment.¡± The hum of conversation grew even louder and so did Medusa¡¯s irritation.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we¡ª¡±

    ¡°I really need to sleep.¡±

    A sudden hush fell.

    It happened. Medusa had reached her breaking point. The exhaustion was so bad that her joints ached, coupled with the relentless headache.

    ¡°What was that you said?¡± The terrier¡¯s face, first aghast, soon twisted with an unsightly scowl.

    Medusa walked over to the girl holding the slab and made a show of pondering her options. She suspected Eristes intended to incite the crowd to make her choose red.

    Before you choose for me, I''ll choose for myself.

    She retrieved the red plaque and dumped it in her box. ¡°What next?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Vyron asked, clearly astonished. ¡°You should have¡ª¡±

    ¡°How dare you?¡± Eristes¡¯ already tiny eyes reduced to mean little slits. ¡°How dare you interrupt when I''m speaking?¡±

    A pity Medusa was past caring. Ignoring him, she retrieved one of her stones and observed it. It was pleasantly warm and pulsed against her palm. There was a code regarding aether stone exchange, if she could¡­

    ¡°How about an exchange? Protection for this.¡± Medusa lifted the stone.

    Vyron gawked at her. ¡°How¡­ why? What are you doing?¡±

    The gathering was abuzz.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    ¡°It''s a mid-grade stone!¡±

    ¡°She seems like trouble. Did you hear how she spoke to Eristes?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± A fiercely muscular boy stepped forward. ¡°Did I hear you correctly?¡±

    ¡°And if you did?¡± Medusa blinked hard. Her lids were beginning to feel heavy.

    ¡°I can protect you if¡ª¡±

    A girl with a buzz cut shoved him aside and flashed sharp teeth at Medusa. ¡°See how I easily handled him? I¡¯ll offer a full year¡¯s protection for one aether stone. What do you¡ª¡±

    More pushed forward, each appearing stronger than the last as they shouted their offer.

    ¡°Smart.¡±

    Medusa froze at the sudden feel of an arm resting over her shoulders. This¡­ this person. She had not sensed their approach. Tense alertness pulverised her drowsiness.

    ¡°I was wondering how you¡¯d manage the situation, and you didn¡¯t disappoint.¡± His chuckle was deep and carefree. ¡°I¡¯m Akrivi, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Get your hand off me,¡± Medusa said through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± He released her and raised both hands. ¡°Why so testy?¡± He was about two heads taller than her and possessed an unfairly handsome face and great hair.

    Medusa made a face as wariness crept in. Who was this person? So far, he was the only other student who wore jewellery¡ªa single sapphire earring swung from his left earlobe. Demeter said her students only get to keep what they earn. Maybe¡­

    ¡°Are you strong?¡±

    A charming smile curved the corner of his lips as his gaze danced over her face. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Do you want the aether stone too?¡±

    ¡°Only a fool wouldn¡¯t,¡± he said with a casual shrug.

    Medusa noticed the gathering had grown quiet. None attempted to cut into their conversation. So, he was strong. And a gatherer judging from the colour of his plaque.

    ¡°Will you protect me?¡±

    ¡°One month.¡±

    Medusa raised a brow in question.

    ¡°One month of protection for one aether stone.¡±

    ¡°Also protect my property and we have a deal.¡±

    ¡°You drive a hard bargain, May the unawakened¡± his dark eyes twinkled as his small smile grew to a bright grin, ¡°but I like you. Akrivi at your service.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it!¡± Vyron reached for Medusa, a look of panic on his face. He had barely touched her arm when Akrivi flashed over, looming behind him like a shadow of death. Even the look on his face had shifted from playful to chilling ferocious menace.

    ¡°Hands off, leader.¡± He touched Vyron¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Please.¡±

    Colour leached off Vyron¡¯s face as he gulped and nodded. ¡°Fine.¡± He dropped his hand. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    Akrivi returned to her side in a blink, all easy smile and sunshine charm. ¡°I¡¯ll have this. Thank you.¡± He took the stone Medusa offered and looped an arm over her shoulder like they were long-lost friends. ¡°You seem tired, esteemed customer. Let me lead you to your room.¡±

 23. Whats My Name?

    Philon, a sophist in the small coastal town of Aitos, leisurely paced as he explained the nuances of the old religion. Occasionally, he would adjust the sleeve of his flowing pallium while maintaining a perfectly pitched voice. Each word was carefully selected, no hair was out of place and no eye contact was wasted.

    Eloquence aside, Philon had since accepted that his looks had done half the job in tripling the number of followers in just four months. Elder Theologos would be pleased when he returns.

    ¡°Questions?¡± Philon asked. A few hands flew up. His gaze settled on one of his many admirers, the only daughter of the town head. ¡°Speak, Sali.¡±

    Colour blossomed across her cheek as her eyes widened. ¡°You¡­ you know my name?¡±

    ¡°Of course, I do. I know the name of all who listen to my teachings.¡± Philon offered what he hoped was a neutral smile. ¡°This is your second attendance. Is it not?¡±

    The thick ringlets of her wild curls bounced as she nodded eagerly. ¡°Yes, it is.¡±

    Philon offered an encouraging nod. ¡°Ask your question.¡±

    ¡°You say the high gods did not manifest fully formed as stars.¡± A frown wrinkled her brow. ¡°If¡­ if that is so, then how did the land and sea come to be? Who made them?¡±

    Murmurs rustled across the gathering with more than half scowling at her.

    ¡°Do not murmur. No question is foolish,¡± Philon said before returning his focus to Sali. ¡°Before the stars, Nyx was. Nyx made the land and sea.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She nodded as if coming to a sudden understanding. From her dry response, it was clear she asked the question merely to get his attention and not because she genuinely believed. But that was fine. Soon, all things would align.

    ¡°Yes, the gods stole power from Nyx,¡± Philon explained further as he met a few gazes. ¡°They pretend to be deities and deceive us to worship and revere them.¡±

    More grumbling rose mostly from the first-time attendees. It was always like this at the beginning. He could understand their worry, but soon all things would align and this town would¡ª

    ¡°Teacher!¡±

    A bright-eyed servant rushed in and eagerly whispered. ¡°Elder Theologos wishes to see you.¡±

    Philon frowned. ¡°He has returned?¡±

    The boy nodded. ¡°And he brought with him a finding of great importance. I do not know what it is.¡±

    Philon offered his practised warm smile at the gathering. ¡°Today¡¯s meeting ends here. Bring a friend tomorrow.¡±

    Some briefly shared their thoughts before leaving, but Sali lingered behind, only approaching when others left.

    ¡°Teacher,¡± she reached out and coyly touched his arm while gazing at his face with adoring green eyes. Philon resisted the urge to pull away. This type of obvious lustful interest sparked irritation in him without fail.

    I am patient. I treat these lambs with kindness and gentleness.

    ¡°Do you have another question?¡±

    At Philon¡¯s flat question, she shook her head and dropped her gaze. ¡°I want to thank you for coming to our town and sharing your knowledge. It has been a year. Perhaps, do you¡­¡± her voice faded as more colour stained her cheeks.

    The line of Philon¡¯s patience threatened to snap as he looked from the spot she touched to her face. She was pretty. Sixteen or seventeen. Very naive from what he could tell, and it was clear she didn¡¯t believe a word of his message; it was impossible not to recognise an Athena devotee.

    He gently pulled his arm from her touch while offering another smile. ¡°I need to see Elder Theologos. He just returned from a long journey. Can you hold your question for tomorrow''s symposium?¡±

    ¡°T¡­ thank you, teacher,¡± she mumbled. Then she stood on her toes, pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and fled.

    "Ha. The bold thing." Philon coldly blinked after her as he suppressed his rising indignation. No need to waste emotions. Readjusting the folds of his garment, he headed for Theologos'' study. Though it was merely a year since he came to Aitos, he was already restless to act. Anything would be an acceptable excuse at this point.

    Finally, he made it to the study. It was a chaotic mix of battered tomes, scrolls, tablets, and useless relics scattered about; at the centre was a frazzled mid-forties man hunched over his desk and mumbling as he peered at a stone slab through an observation glass.

    ¡°Welcome back, elder.¡± Philon offered a flawless bow before settling in the empty seat across his desk.

    Theologos looked up, exposing a bushy happy face and bright excited eyes. ¡°Philon! I came upon a magnificent find.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you have gone home first?¡± Philon¡¯s brow bunched in concern. ¡°It¡¯s been four months, elder. Your wife and son¡ª¡±

    ¡°Never mind it.¡± He waved dismissively. ¡°You see¡­¡± His voice reduced to a whisper as he leaned closer and cautiously glanced around. ¡°Nyx is a lie.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Philon drew back and warily observed the elder. ¡°How can you speak such words?¡±

    Theologos guffawed, his unkempt beard shaking with the action. ¡°I know. Shocking. But look at this.¡± He pushed the slab across the desk and passed Philon the observation glass. ¡°Look.¡±

    Philon brought the glass to the stone and read the lines in tiny Greek letters. ¡°Where did you find this?¡± he asked in a quiet voice.

    ¡°At a cave. Do you know there are smaller islands near Sapedon?¡±

    Philon¡¯s brow climbed up. Now, that was the true surprise. How had Theologos crossed the sea and neared Sapedon? The elder was wealthy but not wealthy enough to safely attempt that. Did a deity help?

    ¡°At first, I was in disbelief, but the more I read the lines, strange visions came to me in my sleep,¡± Theologos chatted on excitedly. ¡°It says here that Nyx is not the mother. Do you see?¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Philon carefully placed the magnifying glass beside the slab and flatly observed Theologos.

    ¡°It says something about a monolith,¡± Theologos eagerly continued. ¡°I think I saw the monolith in one of my dreams.¡±

    Philon¡¯s brow twitched.

    ¡°And I think¡ª¡± Theologos flinched. ¡°Your face¡­ why is your face like that?¡±

    ¡°My face? How is my face?¡± Philon touched his face, genuinely curious. ¡°Hmmm.¡± He must have slipped and let his true feelings show¡ªhis first mistake in one year. Irritation blasted through him and he loved it.

    Intense feelings are the best feelings.

    ¡°I was right to come to this town.¡± Relaxing into his seat, Philon released his mortal ruse with a drawn-out sigh and lazily blinked at the ceiling. ¡°Something about specks. Even with aether in the palm of my hand,¡± he stretched his hand as if reaching for something unseen, ¡°even with fine control of aether, a speck in the eye still causes discomfort.¡± He scowled. ¡°I hate discomfort.¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°W-who are you?¡±

    ¡°Who am I?¡± Philon tapped a finger against the arm of his chair as his hooded gaze slid to the trembling man. ¡°I am Philon, have you forgotten?¡±

    They held each other¡¯s gaze for a moment before Theologos sprung to his feet and dashed to the door. With a single swish of Philon¡¯s finger, it banged shut.

    ¡°Sit. Down. Mortal.¡±

    Theologos cried out as a shadow snatched and planted him in his seat. Philon increased the pressure of the grip, squeezing until the mortal''s eyes bulged.

    ¡°My instinct.¡± As Philon stood, the air around him shifted like a mirage. ¡°All through the centuries¡ªeven millenniums¡ªit has never failed me. A year of keeping my desires in check,¡± his real face flashed then vanished with a ripple, ¡°months of parroting your lies until my jaws hurt. Months of watching that supple wife of yours and forcing myself to remember patience. I was good to you, Theologos¡ªa loyal dog when you were away.¡±

    Philon looked at Theologos and was rewarded. That expression, the absolute bleeding horror on his face. The refreshing way his pupil shook within the white of his eyes as realisation sliced through disbelief.

    ¡°You¡­ you are one of them.¡±

    ¡°Am I?¡± Philon cocked his head. ¡°Who am I one of, you SPECK!¡±

    One of the luminescent orbs flew from the ceiling and shattered inches from Theologos¡¯ head. A piece nicked the whimpering fool across the cheek. Red seeped out.

    Philon stopped next to him and peered down. ¡°You¡¯re a marvellous teacher, Theologos. That trusting expressive face taught me a lot. I treasured you.¡±

    ¡°Stay¡­ stay away from me.¡±

    The way he trembled and that look of horrified disbelief on his face. The corner of Philon¡¯s lips kicked up; his first genuine smile in a year.

    ¡°That you found the courage to speak is admirable.¡± Philon held his hands at his back as he observed him. ¡°I have seen your shaven face. A decent appearance. Do you think your wife would know if I took your face? And your son? I never tire of sharing my blood.¡±

    Theologos sobbed. Philon could only blink at the display. Tears were the one thing he couldn¡¯t force, and they had never moved him.

    ¡°Now you shed tears? Where is that bold tongue that railed against deities, calling us usurpers? You said you saw visions. Your own words have damned you, teacher.¡± Philon tutted as he raised a hand in readiness to strike.

    Theologos squeezed his eyes shut, face pale and wet with even more tears. ¡°Please¡­ I plead for mercy.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Philon sighed and withdrew his hand. ¡°Your plea has moved me.¡±

    ¡°It has?¡± Theologos cracked his eyes open. There was hope there. Happy, passionate and prone to get carried away by curiosity. That was Theologos.

    Philon suppressed a chuckle at the sight of his imploring gaze. ¡°Teacher, bow and sincerely worship me. I promise to show mercy if my heart stirs.¡±

    Philon withdrew the aether shadow holding him in place. ¡°Go on,¡± he said gently. ¡°Show me your sincerity.¡±

    More trembling and sobbing as he collapsed to his knees and pressed his head to the ground. ¡°Forgive this foolish mortal.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of a monolith. Spreading lies. Abandoning your family to pursue more lies. Come on, Theologos, you can do better. Show me your sincerity.¡± Philon glared at his bowed head.

    ¡°I REPENT,¡± Theologos shouted as he raised clasped shaky hands. ¡°Please, show this mortal mercy. Please.¡±

    Philon blinked at the shivering mortal. ¡°Unfortunately, I am not moved. Let¡¯s play a game instead.¡±

    Theologos lifted horrified eyes and pressed both palms in supplication. ¡°I swear, with all the sincerity in my heart, I swear that I am sorry.¡±

    ¡°The game is simple,¡± Philon continued. ¡°If you correctly guess my name, I shall let you go.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± His face fell to a delightful mix of shock, disbelief and resignation.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go over the rules. If you guess wrong three times, I will seek out your wife. Do you know? It''s the ones that do not desire me I take.¡±

    The change on Theologos¡¯ face was an unexpected heady treat. Virulent rage. The fool even dared to glare at him.

    Philon grabbed him by the beard and gave him a fierce backhand. A tooth flew out. ¡°Control those insolent eyes before I pluck them out.¡±

    He groaned as he turned away.

    ¡°Now guess.¡± Philon released him and closed his fist over strands of the mortal¡¯s hair. ¡°What¡¯s my name?¡±

    Blood spilled past his lips. ¡°C-Chronos?¡±

    Philon threw back his head and laughed. ¡°Let me rupture that small mortal mind of yours. There is no god called Chronos, so you are woefully wrong.¡± he grabbed Theologos¡¯ ankle and touched the ground next to his foot. ¡°How about a hint?¡±

    ¡°Please¡ª¡±

    ¡°Split.¡± The earth opened like a hungry mouth. Philon shoved the foot in. ¡°Seal.¡± The ground returned to its former state, only this time, a bleeding stump remained where a foot should be.

    Philon blinked at the spreading blood before shifting his focus to Theologos¡¯s face. His howls of pain were a hum in the background, but his expression¡­ twisted with pain. In a euphoric daze, Philon reached for the mortal''s face, smearing it with blood.

    ¡°It¡¯s returning¡­ the thrill is returning.¡± Philon moved to the other foot. ¡°Try again, mortal. You can do this. Who am I? What¡¯s my name?¡±

    Theologos stared at his footless leg with disbelieving eyes. ¡°Have mercy.¡±

    ¡°Wrong answer. Split. Seal.¡±

    Philon drank in the mortal¡¯s reaction. The way Theologos¡¯ eyes grew unfocused and that drawn-out groan. All his vibrant expressions.

    More. I want more reactions.

    ¡°Remember what I said about your wife?¡± Philon straightened and leaned against the lip of the desk. ¡°Despite the force of nature this face is, she resisted my charms. But,¡± he raised a bloody finger, ¡°if you fail the next guess, I shall have your face and go to her. Do you understand what I am saying? How does that make you feel?¡±

    Theologos sobbed.

    Philon made a face at the disappointing reaction. Maybe if he told him what he intended to do to this town before the sun sets.

    ¡°Poseidon?¡±

    Poseidon groaned. That voice. He would recognise it anywhere. ¡°You''re interrupting.¡±

    ¡°Am I?¡± Athena chuckled as she looked from the weeping mortal to Poseidon. She did a double-take and flashed to his side.

    ¡°How beautiful.¡± She grabbed Poseidon¡¯s face and moved it from side to side. ¡°Where did you find him? He¡¯s gorgeous.¡±

    Poseidon laughed, his irritation at her interruption vanishing. ¡°He was some wandering priest of a dead religion.¡± His smile died when he recalled what she had interrupted. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    Sighing, Athena dropped her hands. ¡°You heard of Phorcys?¡±

    ¡°That fool?¡± Poseidon made a face then perked up with a smile. ¡°How¡¯s his wife?¡±

    Athena clicked her tongue and shook her head. ¡°You and your phases.¡± She strolled over to the desk. ¡°Phorcys broke his oath and suffered for it.¡±

    ¡°I heard.¡±

    ¡°Do you recall your duty?¡± She picked up the stone slab and observed it.

    Poseidon frowned. ¡°I have a functioning mind. Do not remind me of what I already know.¡±

    ¡°With you, I worry sometimes.¡± She gave the mortal a pointed look. ¡°Anyway, now that Phorcys is away, we have a rare chance to meet his child.¡±

    Poseidon¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°But wasn¡¯t the plan to visit your little temple and have the chit when she¡¯s of birthing age?¡±

    ¡°Something is not right; I can feel it.¡± A thoughtful look clouded Athena¡¯s face. ¡°Phorcys isn¡¯t an idiot. If he broke his oath, there must be a reason.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Poseidon shrugged. ¡°Simply do your part.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you curious?¡± Athena touched her chin as she shifted the slab this way and that. ¡°What the child looks like, how mouldable she is, the look on that hag¡¯s face when she sees how powerless she is against the flow of fate?¡±

    ¡°Hag? What does Phorcydes have to do with this?¡±

    ¡°My thoughts exactly. Right now, the child is in her custody.¡±

    Poseidon considered this new information. Phorcys and his sister have been a pain since the beginning. The child was supposed to be an Athena devotee; coming under the influence of Phorcydes could ruin the plan. The hag was tricky to deal with, and Athena, for all her revered wit, may find herself stumbling; stumbling meant attracting Zeus¡¯ reprimand.

    ¡°You¡¯re Poseidon?¡±

    Poseidon frowned down at Theologos, suddenly remembering his existence.

    ¡°That¡¯s cheating, teacher.¡± Poseidon glared at the mortal. ¡°And you¡¯ll die for that.¡±

    ¡°No! I didn¡¯t say that as an answer. I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Drain,¡± Poseidon said dismissively. The mortal crumbled to ash mid-scream.

    At the same moment, Poseidon''s face rippled and shifted to Theologos¡¯. The only difference was being a finger shorter; as for personality, he had observed the mortal long enough to safely emulate him.

    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± Poseidon asked as he disrobed and shrugged on Theologos¡¯ pallium.

    Athena continued observing the slab with a frown. ¡°Whose name?¡±

    Poseidon paused on his way to the door. ¡°Phorcys¡¯ brat.¡±

    ¡°Medusa,¡± Athena replied offhandedly.

    ¡°Medusa, huh?¡± Poseidon tasted the name and nodded. ¡°I quite like the sound. Fine, I¡¯ll come with you.¡±

    As Athena pocketed the slab, her expression turned serious. Its content must have caused concern, but that was her burden. Poseidon was never one to dance for Zeus¡¯ favour. The ancient fox was impossible to please, anyway.

    Poseidon pushed the door open with fanfare and allowed a big anticipatory grin. ¡°Say, before we leave, how about a quick stop?¡±

 24. A Monsters Attention

    ¡°Why are you cutting her neck?¡± Medusa asked.

    ¡°Hush, child.¡± Phorcydes wiggled bloody fingers. ¡°Pass the vial.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s body moved without thought, eagerly acting on her aunt''s bidding.

    Wait. Aunt? What was she doing in the bogs with Phorcydes? Medusa frowned or attempted to. Her face would not obey. It remained relaxed as she ¡®happily¡¯ passed a vial holding clear liquid to Phorcydes.

    Medusa looked at her hands; they were small. The sun was low in the sky and pleasantly warm against her skin. So, it was evening. She tested her sense of smell. Cut grass and river willow flowers. But her body didn''t obey when she attempted to pinch herself.

    This can¡¯t be real. I just took a nap. I was at Tartarus mere moments ago.

    ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯

    A different question passed through her lips. ¡°Does it hurt?¡±

    The girl receiving the nape incision was seated on the grass, legs folded and pin-straight white hair framing her face as she bowed forward. She had the dark grey complexion of the Opsianos people, but Medusa couldn¡¯t properly see her face.

    ¡°It does.¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Phorcydes chided. ¡°And brace yourself. This will hurt.¡± She scarcely gave the girl a moment before she poured the liquid into the cut.

    Her scream spooked a nearby flock of birds, the cacophony of their beating wings matching her harsh cries.

    ¡°Lela,¡± her duplicate extended a comforting hand towards the sobbing girl, ¡°don¡¯t cry.¡±

    An irritating desire to pray to Athena to ease Lela¡¯s suffering buzzed in her head, and the child obeyed the urge, already clasping her hands in readiness to mutter memorised prayers.

    The soft-hearted pathetic weakling. Rage was rising and Medusa could only watch her duplicate tearfully say useless prayers.

    What am I doing here?

    Clotho!

    There was no answer.

    A terrible possibility teased Medusa¡¯s mind but she rejected the thought. This was merely a dream¡ªa nightmare. There was no way her consciousness entered her duplicate.

    Hey, Clotho. If this is a joke, I''m not amused.

    Even more silence.

    ¡°You''re distressing my niece with your weeping.¡± Phorcydes lifted the duplicate and hugged her. ¡°Don¡¯t cry for Lela. Look, she¡¯s happy. Those are happy tears.¡±

    ¡°Happy tears?¡± The duplicate looked at Lela.

    True to Phorcydes¡¯ words, Lela was no longer writhing in pain. Now she massaged the back of her scarred neck with a look of awe on her face. ¡°I¡­ I truly cannot feel the link. I can¡¯t believe it.¡±

    ¡°Of course, the link is gone,¡± Phorcydes said with an exasperated huff. ¡°You''re now free to be my representative at the¡ª¡±

    Phorcydes stiffened at the same moment Medusa sensed a sharpness in the air.

    A plain-faced woman holding a smiling blond boy of about ten emerged from the border of trees ahead. Lela whimpered before scurrying behind Phorcydes.

    And to Medusa¡¯s horror, she recognised the woman.

    Athena. But the boy she held¡ª

    No, It can¡¯t be. Medusa willed her duplicate to wiggle free and flee, but her urging was useless. Instead, the child stared with open interest as both deities drew nearer.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± She asked in a low shy voice.

    ¡°They are none of your concern,¡± Aunt Phorcydes muttered bitterly.

    Breathing felt hard despite the duplicate¡¯s nostrils drawing air just fine. Perhaps Medusa¡¯s main body was choking.

    I shouldn¡¯t be here. Why am I witnessing this? Get me out of here. Someone, please.

    The boy beamed at the duplicate and in response she peeked at him, clearly curious.

    ¡®What are you doing? Don¡¯t grab the attention of that monster.¡¯ Against Medusa¡¯s will, her duplicate shyly returned Poseidon''s smile.

    What was this horror before her eyes? It¡¯s my fault. Deviating from how she acted in the past must have caused a ripple effect and now her enemies had found her.

    ¡°Phorcydes!¡± Athena offered a thoroughly insincere stiff bow. ¡°I greet the old one.¡± She grabbed Poseidon at the back of the head and forced him to bow. ¡°Give your greetings.¡±

    A smirk slowly curved his lips as he bowed too. ¡°I greet the old one.¡±

    ¡°Do not pretend respect for the child¡¯s sake.¡± Phorcydes openly glared at them. ¡°Why are you here? Try any tricks and I¡¯ll expose your loving nature to this child.¡±

    Athena straightened and returned Phorcydes¡¯ glare. ¡°Do not give empty threats. I plead with you to expose my loving nature, if you hate Phorcys.¡±

    ¡°You bitch.¡± The curse was said with such venom that her duplicate flinched.

    Athena covered Poseidon¡¯s ears. ¡°Now-now, hag. There are children here.¡±

    Poseidon chuckled but said nothing. His eyes¡­ the way they shone with dark enjoyment. He was living for Phorcydes¡¯ emotional reaction.

    ¡°And what is this I see?¡± Athena smiled at Lela. ¡°My Owl, what has happened to you?¡±

    ¡°Lela is not an owl,¡± her duplicate announced boldly.

    Medusa shivered at her effrontery. Her duplicate, the naive idiot child she was, continued, ¡°Lela is a person. It¡¯s not polite to call a person a bird.¡±

    Athena smiled warmly. I know that smile. If anything, the goddess was infuriated that a mere mortal dared challenge her words.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Athena asked.

    The duplicate nodded all the while still stealing glances at the boy. Her curiosity was understandable. Growing up, she was never exposed to children her age, but that boy was Poseidon. Medusa couldn¡¯t tell how she knew, she just did. Even now, despite wearing the face of a child she saw through his sham innocence.

    ¡°You are so pretty, Medusa,¡± Athena said in a voice so genuine it made the child blush and bury her face in Phorcydes¡¯ neck. ¡°And you look so much like your father.¡±

    Her duplicate perked up. ¡°I do?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Phorcys is¡ª¡±

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Phorcydes¡¯ wooden cane appeared in her grip as she spat the question. ¡°If you have nothing meaningful to say, get out of my bogs.¡±

    Ignoring Phorcydes, Poseidon stepped forward and waved. ¡°Greetings, Medusa. I''m Theologos, an orphan from Aitos.¡± Even though he smiled warmly, Medusa recognised the glint of lethal curiosity in his eyes. ¡°Can I come visit¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop!¡± Phorcydes held Medusa tighter. ¡°You must be mad to think I¡¯ll let you near this child.¡±

    Athena chuffed and rolled her eyes. ¡°Even her thinking is retrogressive.¡±

    ¡°Phorcys would have to come here before I let Medusa go.¡± Phorcydes¡¯ knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped her staff. ¡°That oath forced on my brother, I swear on the Monolith, by Nyx¡ª¡± her voice broke. ¡°I swear on everything that ever existed, I will break it.¡±

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    Something wet touched Medusa''s face. Was Aunt Phorcydes crying?

    ¡°Get out of my bogs while I am still civil.¡± Phorcydes swung her staff and the sharpness in the air cleared. ¡°And go tell your cronies that the only deity allowed on these grounds is my brother. Any other cretin becomes fair game.¡± With that, she whirled and headed to her house with Lela at her tail.

    Athena''s cold mocking laughter followed them. ¡°You have been weeping for centuries, and for centuries to come your tears will not cease. That child is mine,¡± she spat. ¡°Come four years, I will take her either in peace or bound in chains.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°... not normal.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s fingers twitched.

    ¡°She was gasping and trembling.¡±

    That voice. Medusa had heard it before. Akrivi?

    ¡°Her eyes are moving behind her lids. Perhaps a nightmare.¡±

    ¡°Asleep for almost ten horai? Not normal.¡±

    Now fully awake, Medusa remained still. She was only able to wake up after her duplicate was forced to go to bed. The child had chatted excitedly about the blond boy, even asking her aunt if they could invite him to worship Athena in the backyard. All Medusa could do was witness her aunt¡¯s broken expression as she watched her clueless niece. Just what was the oath they talked about?

    And in four years, whether Medusa liked it or not, she must go to Athena¡¯s temple. This was bad. She had grabbed her enemies¡¯ attention too early and was woefully unprepared.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s awake. Look, she¡¯s clenching her fist.¡±

    Slowly opening her eyes, Medusa stared at the ceiling. Wooden beams with potted plants swung from each row and there were at least three luminescent orbs. She wiggled her fingers to test her mobility before turning to her left.

    Akrivi cocked his head when their eyes met. ¡°Your sleep did not seem restful.¡±

    ¡°If you chew on saltpine tree bark, you will sleep soundly. No dreams. I¡¯m Lonian.¡± He was a large boy with a top knot and a happy face. ¡°I also use this room. That¡¯s Myrion and Chilion,¡± he nodded at two slender boys who looked in her direction in sync. Twins. But their faces were heavily bruised.

    ¡°They did that to themselves,¡± Akrivi quickly offered. ¡°And Chilion is a girl. Shocking, I know.¡± His attention returned to Medusa. ¡°Has anyone ever told you you have a peculiar appearance?¡±

    Medusa pushed herself to an upright position and looked around some more. It was a decent space, but it also didn¡¯t escape the vines.

    ¡°Ignore him. You¡¯re lucky not to have these.¡± Chilion cupped her hands in front of her chest as she strolled over. ¡°He¡¯s a shameless womaniser.¡±

    Akrivi snorted. ¡°You¡¯re just mad I¡¯ve never made a move on you.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡± She took a step in Akrivi¡¯s direction only to pause at the sound of her twin¡¯s chuckle. Soon they were at each other¡¯s throats, with Myrion laughing about Chilion having a stupid crush.

    Medusa looked away. ¡°I need¡­ I need to take a bath.¡± She stumbled out of bed and swayed on her feet.

    ¡°Woah!¡± Akrivi caught her arm, saving her from faceplanting just in time. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be refreshed after sleeping that long?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t that Medusa was feeling physical fatigue; this had more to do with the mental exhaustion that came from what she witnessed in her sleep.

    ¡°Hey, Chilion,¡± Akrivi called out, forcing the twins to stop their brawl. ¡°Take our latest recruit to the baths.¡±

    Turns out Akrivi was the best decision Medusa¡¯s fogged-out mind made. Not only was their spacious dorm housing only five as against ten in others, the beds weren''t bad either, and the door could be locked. She also learned from Chilion why there were so many vines.

    ¡°We call them the goddess¡¯ hands. Demeter is touchy about sexual violence.¡± Chilion lowered her voice. ¡°You heard of the great humiliation?¡±

    Who hasn¡¯t? ¡°Yes,¡± Medusa answered.

    ¡°Anyway, those things are very capable of painfully incapacitating unruly students, but they allow an extent of violence. Ironic, huh? Last month, one of the greens was beaten to death¡¯s door. The vines only interfered when he had¡­¡±

    Medusa tuned her out as she went about her bath. It was almost midnight from what she observed so that meant she slept for nearly ten hours. At most, her consciousness had spent two hours in the duplicate, and from what she noticed, the Greecian continent was a few hours behind.

    If I sleep, I wake up in the body of a naive idiot, and if I¡¯m near death, I face an enraged goddess. Such rotten luck.

    After her bath, Chilion escorted Medusa back to their dorm. And it seemed she wouldn¡¯t be needing the services of the midget because Chilion was very forthcoming with details about Dog House.

    The dogs had three princes, one of which was Eristes the terrier, five princesses, and children of wealthy merchants and powerful houses. Other houses also had such students but not as much as the dogs; and the dogs were known to shamelessly pull ranks.

    How do I tame this house of chaos?

    Akrivi, Lonian and Myrion were waiting when they returned. It seemed they had something to tell her judging from their serious expression.

    ¡°First, eat.¡±

    Medusa eyed the bowl of peaches Lonian offered.

    ¡°Even if we suddenly decided to poison you, that should neutralise it.¡± Akrivi nodded at her wristband.

    Medusa settled across them and retrieved a peach. She took a bite and frowned. ¡°This tastes too good.¡±

    ¡°It does, and we take insane risks to get them.¡± Akrivi¡¯s gaze remained serious. ¡°Knowing Vyron, he must have advised you to choose Black. Why did you choose Red?¡±

    Medusa removed the seed and took another bite. ¡°I like the forest.¡±

    First, there was silence then raucous laughter, even the quiet twin joined in.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Akrivi asked the rest as he wheezed with more laughter. ¡°She likes the forest.¡±

    Medusa reached for a second fruit. It felt like she could eat an entire basket of these.

    ¡°You would be a burden,¡± Akrivi said.

    ¡°And you think so because?¡± Vyron said Agria¡¯s Nest was a deadly forest. It would be foolish to take such a place lightly. Still¡­

    ¡°The forest is unpredictable. Taking an unawakened would be unwise.¡±

    ¡°Do we use weapons?¡± Damn, the peaches were refreshing.

    ¡°We take from the supply post then return them after each run,¡± Lonian answered.

    ¡°Good.¡± Medusa nodded. ¡°All I need is a bow and arrow and I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Akrivi facepalmed, muttering something about naive spoiled brats. ¡°Look, the bow and arrow are the worst weapons to use out there.¡±

    Medusa stopped mid-chew. ¡°Why?¡± It''s common knowledge that archers were the best at hunting.

    ¡°Just how many arrows can you take with you? How fast is your reaction time in chaos? That aside, applying aether to an object that has already left your touch is impossible. Mere arrows are useless against beasts of the Nest.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­I see.¡± What he said made sense. During the trial, she had been holding on to the strip of cloth when she manipulated the air. Clotho said nothing about the possibility of manipulating aether or air without direct contact.

    ¡°We¡¯ve agreed that until you¡¯re awakened, you¡¯ll remain in the green zone.¡±

    Medusa instantly hated the idea. ¡°And how will you protect me in this so-called green zone?¡±

    ¡°One of us will be with you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like¡ª¡±

    Medusa.

    Clotho! Medusa sprung to her feet, causing the rest to jolt in surprise.

    I had to attend to something important. Did you miss me? Clotho asked with a chuckle. Come to the front of your dorm. There¡¯s someone I need you to meet.

    Listen, I¡ª

    You wouldn¡¯t believe who it is. I made an honour oath with him so he can¡¯t¡ª

    I saw Athena and Poseidon through the duplicate you made!

    ¡°What''s wrong with her?¡± Myrion asked. ¡°She¡¯s clenching her fists and staring at nothing.¡±

    ¡°Very strange,¡± Akrivi said. ¡°You think she¡¯s one of those broken ones?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Chilion answered. ¡°Sad. She seemed so smart.¡±

    They were watching her as if she were crazy. Not that Medusa cared. When Clotho remained silent, she continued. And during the trial, I met an angry goddess when I collapsed. She tried to kill me with these¡­ these large snippers.

    Oh no.

    That bad?

    Clotho remained quiet for even longer before muttering. It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s¡­ with my help and his help and your help, we can¡­ we can find her.

    What are you saying?

    Meet the person I mentioned. I swear on my name that he cannot harm you, Clotho said in a subdued voice. Just¡­ wait for me. I need to think.

    Medusa turned to Akrivi when the link vanished. ¡°Escort me to the front of the dorm. There¡¯s someone I need to meet.¡±

    ¡°Someone to meet?¡± He raised a brow. ¡°You know it¡¯s almost midnight.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°You know there¡¯s a curfew?¡±

    ¡°I don''t care.¡±

    Akrivi laughed. ¡°A bad girl that¡¯s also crazy. I like.¡± He grinned as he rose to his feet. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll come with you.¡±

    The walk to the tall dorm door was quiet and Medusa appreciated it. She could sense Akrivi¡¯s questioning gaze, but he did well to keep his curiosity in check. A single nod from him was all it took for the doorkeeper to obediently open it.

    Even larger luminescent orbs balanced on poles lit the dorm¡¯s exterior. ¡®Keeps beasts away¡¯, was all Akrivi gave as an explanation.

    When they stopped beside the dead fountain, Akrivi wove his fingers behind his head and sighed at the night sky. ¡°Lovely night. So who are we meeting? A love interest? You seem too intense and crazy for that kind of¡­¡± his voice faded at the same time Medusa noticed a hooded figure ahead.

    Medusa flinched when Akrivi roughly pulled her behind him. ¡°That person is dangerous.¡±

    And Akrivi was correct. Even from a distance, there was an air of danger about him.

    ¡°Let''s go back.¡± Akrivi tugged at her arm.

    ¡°No, I¡ª¡±

    The hooded man appeared before Akrivi and grabbed his face. ¡°Sleep.¡±

    Akrivis crumbled in a dead faint. It happened so fast that Medusa could only stand and stare, unable to react.

    This person¡­ now that he was close, she recognised his presence. He was the same person who approached her at the auction house. When he pushed away his hood, she sucked in a breath. Red hair, glowing amber eyes. This appearance.

    Heart wildly thumping, Medusa was unaware she had fallen to her knees. ¡°P-please, spare me.¡±

    ¡°Your fear is needless, Medusa.¡± He offered a hand and she saw the mark¡ªa tiny rune in the shape of an inverted V with a dot at its zenith. ¡°The Moirai sent me. I''m Ares.¡±

 25. Zeus Executioner

    Medusa remained on her knees, the feel of her heartbeat throbbing in her ears and cold sweat misting her brow. Self-preservation yelled at her to flee but movement felt impossible. Ares was Zeus¡¯ top executioner¡ªa killer of millions. How does a person casually face such an existence?

    Ares looked from her face to his offered hand, which Medusa would never dare take. Oddly, she couldn¡¯t pick up the scent of his aura despite sensing it. Perhaps his aura smelled like blood. There were rumours that a single touch from the red god could pulverise an awakened mortal, and a swing of his sword could slay a thousand mortals at once. Just what was Clotho thinking when she joined hands with him?

    Seeing Medusa make no move to take his hand, Ares straightened. ¡°The Moirai said you can kill gods.¡±

    Panic scattered her thoughts. ¡°I¡ªthat¨Cthat is not true.¡± Why did Clotho tell him such a damning claim? ¡°I do not¡ª¡±

    ¡°You may not know this seeing you are so young, but the Moirai sees the future.¡± His expression remained stoic as he watched her. ¡°If she says you can kill gods, then it is as true as the earth beneath our feet.¡±

    He spoke of Clotho reverently, like she was a far superior being¡­ which was strange. Medusa had also noticed the same worshipping behaviour with her aunt and Demeter.

    Holding his hands at his back, Ares peered down at her. ¡°I was honoured to make a deal with the Moirai. You shall be my representative at the Fate of Heroes, but the Moirai will have the claim to your ultimate request when you win. Yes, you must win.¡±

    ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°From my observations, you are also cursed. This makes things easier,¡± he continued as if he hadn¡¯t heard her question. ¡°I saw your performance at the trial. You show promise.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s brow twitched as annoyance bulldozed through her earlier terror. Why was he speaking like she had no say in their deal? Yes, she had agreed to receive Clotho¡¯s help, but she wasn¡¯t even present when they made such an important decision about her life.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a child,¡± Medusa mumbled. ¡°I should have been¡ª¡±

    ¡°I shall prepare mock games for practice now and then.¡± He nodded, seeming convinced by his own words. ¡°I intended to speak with Demeter about setting up a portal door, but she¡¯s absent. Nastor should be agreeable since I am taking you as a contender.¡±

    ¡°Hey¡­¡±

    ¡°There is the concern about your weak mortal body breaking during the sessions.¡± Ares cocked his head, appearing contemplative. ¡°Hmmm.¡± A frown wrinkled his brow. ¡°Elixirs can help with¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop talking about me like I¡¯m not here!¡±

    A hush fell. Even the crickets in the background and the sound of the night breeze went still.

    Ares¡¯ gaze slid in her direction.

    I yelled at the red god. Raw panic bubbled up. She gripped her knees as sweat slid down her chin.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± he asked in a low deadly voice.

    I¡¯m dead. He will kill me. No, he can¡¯t. Clotho said he couldn''t hurt me.

    Stumbling to her feet, Medusa forced a brave face. ¡°What happens if I do not wish to represent you at the games?¡±

    ¡°And why would you not wish to?¡± He asked the question like Medusa were some idiot questioning perfect logic.

    ¡°I was going to represent Clotho. That was what she¡ª¡± Medusa flinched. Heart sinking in fright, she took several steps back.

    The way he glared at her in¡­ disappointment? ¡°I and Phorcys were never friends, but I assumed he was upright enough to raise a respectful child.¡± There was a bite in his words, and his eyes were doing that strange glowing thing. Something she said must have triggered him.

    ¡°What d-does my father have to¡ª¡±

    Medusa muffled a yell when Ares suddenly appeared before her face. Still glowering, he tapped his temple with a finger. ¡°Listen to me, chit. Let this warning sink into your infantile head. You will refer to the Moirai as the Moirai and nothing else when in my presence. Do you understand?¡±

    Medusa gulped and offered a tight nod. ¡°Yes. Yes, I understand.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± He stepped back. ¡°It is impossible for the Moirai to have a representative at the games. She is not a¡­ deity.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± But if Clotho wasn¡¯t a god, what was she?

    ¡°I insisted on meeting you today for two reasons.¡±

    Ares gave her a searching look. Under his scrutiny, it took every effort not to scratch her arm, shuffle her feet or squirm.

    ¡°First, I needed to confirm your cursed state. My suspicion was correct. And secondly¡­¡± A sad smile appeared on his face. Like a mask sliding off, he suddenly seemed human. ¡°I came to make an earnest request.¡±

    Ares¡¯ gaze turned solemn. ¡°Daughter of Phorcys, swear that when you finally learn how to kill gods, you will kill me first.¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± Medusa stumbled away, shocked at how vehemently her soul rejected his request.

    I should be excited at the offer, an actual high god willing to be a test run.

    The goal was to kill gods, but if she balked at the mere thought of killing a murder-machine god, just how weak was her resolve? She clenched her teeth, stopping a yell of frustration in time.

    ¡°I understand this is an unfair request to make of a child, but¡­¡± His voice faded. Then he shook his head as if to clear his mind. ¡°When you understand, you will eagerly swear that oath to me.¡±

    He vanished with the wind, and Medusa stood there, staring at the spot for a full minute.

    Did I hear correctly? Did he really plead for death? What sort of psycho¡ª

    A groan interrupted her spiralling thoughts. Akrivi winced as he sat up. Pushing his hair from his face, he blinked around in a daze. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Then he was on his feet, gaze whipping about in search of Ares. ¡°Where did he go? Who was that?¡±

    For a second Medusa considered lying, but when none was forthcoming she went with the truth. ¡°He¡¯s my backer.¡±

    Akrivi looked at her in surprise. ¡°You already have a backer?¡±

    ¡°Is that not normal?¡± She twisted the beaded band around her wrist as she thought of it. Clotho had warned her not to tell what god¡¯s blood she supposedly carried, but was the case the same for a backer? Not that she was willing to tell anyone the freakin¡¯ red god had taken her under his ¡®house¡¯.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not normal. We have these ridiculous peacock show contests every three months where gods select students to come under their house. Only three students got picked, and all the pickers were low deities. But you have a backer already.¡± Akrivi looked genuinely surprised like she had achieved some impossible feat. ¡°He didn¡¯t feel like a low deity though.¡± He shook his head and whistled.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Medusa heard his silent question but pretended not to. ¡°We should go in.¡±

    ¡°You seem like trouble. Is it possible to cancel our agreement?¡± Akrivi asked as he matched her steps. ¡°I haven¡¯t used the stone yet.¡±

    Most at the dog house treated Akrivi like he was a villain, but for some reason, Medusa felt at ease in his company. Apart from that, a central part of her plan to tame the dogs revolved around him. To get Rico back, she''d use any means. ¡°Please, don¡¯t leave me, Akrivi. I need you.¡±

    ¡°Curses! That was smooth.¡± Akrivi groaned and chuckled. ¡°Stop seducing me, May. I already have two doves. But I can make room for you¡­ if you want.¡± He added with a wink.

    Medusa released a dead laugh. ¡°In your dreams, Romeo,¡± she muttered in English.

    <hr>

    When dawn came, Akrivi and Lonian headed to the supply post to collect weapons. All the Reds, about sixty from what Medusa counted, waited at the front of the dorm. In five hours, they would scour Agria¡¯s Nest for anything edible and dump their finds in the dorm before heading for classes.

    An unfair system. Because the dogs were at the bottom, they received the smallest food rations and because they received the smallest rations, the Reds had to search the forest; this led to the Reds missing two hours of classes. From what Medusa observed, the Reds were the strongest students in Dog House. If the strongest students were missing classes, the current pitiful state of the house would remain.

    How did Demeter¡¯s mind work? What was the purpose of such an unfair system? Maybe it had to do with a grudge, something about hating insolence and spoiled brats. Or maybe she was just bad at managing a school. From what Medusa learned from Chilion, Drys Valon was barely twenty years old.

    Akrivi and Lonian returned, with the latter casually pulling a cart ladened with weapons.

    ¡°Stand in your groups,¡± Akrivi announced. Their obedience was instant with the Reds gathering in groups of five to seven. It was uncanny, how well he handled leadership despite his free-spirited personality.

    ¡°Why isn¡¯t Akrivi the head of the dogs?¡±

    Myrion shrugged as he glanced his way. ¡°Something about the goddess disliking him.¡±

    Poor Akrivi. Another victim of Demeter. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Everyone knows,¡± Chilion chipped in. The bruises from yesterday were gone from the twins¡¯ faces. ¡°He was assigned to the dogs in the same way you were. Can you believe he joined Drys Valon seven months ago?¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡± It was beyond interesting. Becoming the leader of the Reds in just seven months was an impressive achievement.

    ¡°His trial was even more spectacular than yours. A scylla that could move on land.¡± Chilion wiggled her arms like an octopus and contorted her face. ¡°The most hideous creature I¡¯ve ever seen. Teeth like daggers.¡± She hugged herself and shivered.

    Akrivi motioned at them to come to collect their weapons.

    Will you continue to remain silent?

    Medusa pressed her lips shut as she walked over and retrieved the only bow and quiver in the cart. Clotho¡¯s link had returned when she was having breakfast¡ªflatbread and decent-tasting garlic stew¡ªbut she had stubbornly remained silent.

    I¡¯m like a chess piece on their board. Whatever control I think I possess is an illusion.

    I see you are heading to the Nest. That place is dangerous.

    And you think I don¡¯t know that? Medusa bit the inside of her lip and changed her question. Why did you make a deal with Ares without my consent?

    Medusa knew she was being unreasonable. A regular blood carrier would weep daily in thanks at the privileges she enjoyed, but it stung. Getting dragged around reminded her too much of her first life.

    You are upset, Clotho said.

    You think? Medusa began inspecting the arrows, taking note of their sharpness, the flexibility of the shaft and the state of the fletching. They were perfect, way better than anything she used in her second life.

    I saw a promising thread and I took it. If I had not acted when I did, I may have lost my chance, and Ares would have approached you anyway.

    Medusa recalled the auction house. He had boldly attempted to approach her, and she doubted being in Drys Valon would have made a difference to him.

    I am certain of his loyalty, but I made him take the oath for your own assurance.

    She should be more grateful. Without Clotho, she would have been unable to come this far.

    Sorry for the silent treatment. I just¡­ being left in the dark brought back memories. She tested the strength of her bowstring. Taunt with a powerful draw weight. Better than good. A small smile kicked the corner of her lips. She missed this.

    You do not need to apologise, child. I saw your pain¡­ I understand.

    You do? Medusa wondered about Clotho. Just what does seeing her pain mean? Ares said you¡¯re not a deity.

    There was a pause. I never told you I was.

    When Clotho gave no further explanation, Medusa said a weak, oh.

    Akrivi walked over and touched her tag. ¡°It¡¯s for tracking. Compared to a regular mortal, you have a very light presence. If one does not look, they may not know you¡¯re there.¡±

    ¡°Good thing?¡±

    ¡°Bad and good.¡± Akrivi gave Lonian an upward nod. ¡°He would stay with you in the green zone.¡±

    Medusa did not argue. Insisting she followed them to the more dangerous parts merely to show off her archery skill was juvenile. ¡°Very well.¡±

    His gaze shifted to her bow and arrow and lingered. ¡°That¡¯s another problem. Impractical weapon aside, without a pocket, how can you put away what you gather?¡± He looked to the sky and sighed. ¡°Lonian, she¡¯s your problem. Just make sure to get some fruits at least.¡±

    Then he and the rest of the group dispersed. Their speed was impressive, the bushes merely shifting to signal their entrance. Medusa guessed she could also hit a similar speed if she used breathing. She inhaled through her mouth and wiggled her fingers in preparation. Would she have to run in like the rest?

    ¡°We are walking in.¡± Lonian eyed her bow as he led her to the bushes. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to put that in my pocket?¡±

    Medusa shook her head and slung the bow over her shoulder instead. In her second life, she had mastered how to hold her arm in a way that kept the bow from sliding off. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. Look, I also have a trusty sword thanks to your insistence.¡± She patted the sheathed sword clipped to her belt.

    Lonian nodded. ¡°This way.¡±

    Can you teach me how to create a pocket? Medusa asked as she followed Lonian¡¯s leisurely pace.

    The thing they keep weapons in?

    Yes. But I think only an awakened can create one.

    The anticipation of exploring the forest buzzed in her veins. It didn¡¯t matter if nothing fun happened; simply hearing the call of birds and the dewy smell of the morning air was enough to lift her mood¡­ until Clotho spoke.

    You are already awakened.

    Medusa stumbled to a stop. What? When?

    Lonian paused and glanced her way before looking around. ¡°What¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°N-nothing.¡± She walked ahead on weak feet. What do you mean I¡¯m already awakened?

    During your first life; what happened to you at the temple was a trigger to awaken you forcefully, and it worked. But you and your sisters are children of deities, and manifesting as beasts is unnatural.

    A bitter chill enveloped Medusa. As she hugged herself, she swayed on her feet unable to move forward. It didn¡¯t make sense. How were they certain their trigger would work and she would have the eyes of petrification? Why let her go on a rampage only to make a show of capturing and banishing her to Sarpedon? And her sisters, too. What happened to them?

    A tear tracked down her cheek when she blinked.

    ¡°May?¡± Lonian was before her face. ¡°Are you scared? There is no need for tears; I can protect you.¡± Though her fourteen-year-old appearance was quite tall, he still towered over her and probably weighed three times her size.

    Medusa wiped her tears with an arm and forced a smile. ¡°Your assurance has calmed my heart. Thank you, Lonian.¡±

    He gave her a puzzled look before resuming their trek.

    Were you there? In my first life? Did you see all that and let me suffer? Medusa buried her fingers in her short hair and winced. That so-called curse took my hair, destroyed my face and ruined my body. They deliberately turned me to that.

    I saw glimpses of your future when you appeared at the cliff, and glimpses of a world I do not recognise. The threads of your life seemed familiar but tangled by a power higher than mine. I am sorry, Medusa. I wish I knew more.

    It¡¯s fine. Medusa trudged after Lonian. It¡¯s all fine. They keep giving her more fuel for her rage. Pain against pain; her first life and losing Antonii. But I was the one who killed him in the end. I should point a sword at myself too. If I¡ª

    You spoke of pockets, Clotho¡¯s words severed Medusa from her wretched thoughts.

    I will teach you how to create something even better.

    Lonian flicked his wrist. When his sword appeared, he began hacking bushes as they went.

    Pockets hold weapons, even large wagons for the fiercely talented ones. Whenever Clotho started her lessons, a clear serious tone replaced her usual soft, relaxed voice. But do you know they can¡¯t hold something as tiny as a flea if it¡¯s alive?

    Why?

    Pockets only hold inanimate things. The best an awakened mortal can do with a pocket is to make it larger. Deities, on the other hand, can create dimensions.

    Oh. Medusa cocked her head as she considered this new information. But I am neither a deity nor an awakened blood carrier.

    Yes, you are neither. Very strange and confounding, Clotho mused. Anyway, today you will learn how to create and destroy a dimension.

 26. The Nest [1]

    Lonian stopped when they reached an expansive spread of perfectly levelled grass. ¡°Once we breach those trees and enter the forest¡ª¡± he nodded at the border of trees about half a mile ahead ¡°¡ªstay alert and hold your¡­¡± he trailed off as he eyed her bow. ¡°Be ready to unsheathe your sword at any moment. You understand how to infuse aether?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much.¡± Though Medusa had not practised since the trial, she understood the concept. ¡°I thought there was no danger in the green zone. Why the sword?¡±

    Lonian released a soft laugh as he strolled ahead, his large frame shielding Medusa from the morning sun. ¡°This is Tartarus. Best be on your toes if you love living.¡±

    He is correct, Clotho chipped in. But Agria¡¯s Nest is even richer with aether, a good place for your lessons, even the outskirts will do.

    ¡°Running into beasts in these parts is rare,¡± Lonian said as they shuffled through the thigh-length grass, ¡°but if they do appear, it''s usually the much weaker ones. So don''t worry too much.¡±

    Judging from the trees¡¯ distance and their current pace, it should take them about fifteen minutes to reach the main forest. Medusa¡¯s grip awkwardly tightened around the hilt of her sword. She was not a sword person; daggers, on the other hand, were better¡ªno. She shook her head. Daggers reminded her too much of her time as a priestess.

    This should be easy for you.

    What should be? Medusa¡¯s alert gaze roamed over the swaying grass. The way the wind moved over the grass would have been a scenic sight if she wasn¡¯t on edge. Despite Lonian¡¯s assurance, she couldn¡¯t shake off the feeling that something may go wrong.

    Creating dimensions, Clotho answered in a breezy tone. I am confident you can create one if you understand the basics. A tenth of a horai should be enough.

    Six minutes? Your faith in me warms my heart.

    Clotho chuckled. But I¡¯m serious. Why do you think creating pockets is one of the first things an awakened learns?

    Medusa thought about it and shrugged. I don¡¯t know.

    Her parents allowed her next to no lessons on awakened blood-carriers, but she knew the basics. They could hide objects in nothing, they were sturdier than the average mortal, they had markings at their backs and, chief of all, the really exceptional ones could ascend to become low deities. Every awakened¡¯s ultimate desire.

    Whatever little deity blood blood-carriers possess gives them certain instincts. Think of how naturally dogs take to swimming; that¡¯s similar to how awakeneds create pockets. A slight mental push or manipulation is all they need.

    Mild excitement kicked up Medusa¡¯s heart rate as she considered Clotho''s words. The Moirai had earlier mentioned how dimensions could hold living things¡­hmmm.

    For a moment, Medusa considered using the skill to get Rico back, but common sense immediately squashed the ridiculous thought. Demeter may have taken Rico along for her trip, and even if she hadn¡¯t, Medusa was still too weak to take such a risk.

    Releasing a sigh, she asked, where do we start?

    Do you sense anything different about the aether around you?

    Medusa heightened her senses. Now that she was focusing, she noticed a difference. I do. It¡¯s denser¡­ feels like there¡¯s more aether than air.

    Good. Now, look to your left.

    Medusa turned in time to spot a lone butterfly fluttering in her direction. It was the only dot of white in the sea of green.

    Catch that butterfly without touching it.

    Huh? Medusa bit back a frustrated groan as she considered Clotho¡¯s teaching method. She had used the same method during the trial, giving vague instructions and expecting Medusa to instantly grasp her meaning and produce results. I¡¯d appreciate some clear direction here.

    Very well. Clotho¡¯s voice turned serious. You are natural at sensing the divide between air and aether. Use that ability to catch the butterfly.

    How is that a clear direction? Medusa yelled on her inside. I thought I was learning how to create and destroy dimensions, not catching insects.

    This is a path to creating a dimension. A dog doesn¡¯t need to understand the rules of swimming to swim. But you are not a dog. Yes, your instincts will come into play now and then, but it is better to understand how a thing works at a basic level to master it.

    Fine. So, manipulating air and aether. Medusa loosened her shoulders and released a long breath. I wouldn¡¯t say I understand the divide part though, but I¡¯ll try.

    Good. Clotho sounded satisfied like she had done a stellar job at explaining things. If you focus, you should be able to create a dimension before we breach the trees.

    Can you give me an extra hint? Is there a Theos word I can use? Something similar to ¡®breathing¡¯. Surprisingly, the butterfly was keeping pace, seeming to follow the upbeat tune Lonian had begun to whistle. He had put away his sword and was walking at a leisurely pace.

    It is not wise to depend on foundation words.

    Foundation words? Medusa¡¯s curiosity perked up. So ¡®breathing¡¯ is a foundation word?

    No need to waste ¡®breathing¡¯ on such a simple task, Clotho said, blatantly ignoring Medusa¡¯s question. And your body is too weak to handle using it more than once a day.

    What are the beautiful odds? Medusa replied bitterly. In her lives on earth, her body had been unnaturally sturdy, but such strength was nothing in Cosmolith. The weakest awakened could probably fold her in half in a physical fight.

    Okay. Focus. Medusa continued tracking the butterfly as it circled Lonian and fluttered some inches from her face. Now that she thought about it, when she manifested the eye of petrification in her first life, she didn¡¯t need to touch a person for them to turn to stone. So the theory that some form of contact was necessary to manipulate an object with aether had to be false. Or maybe I''m just the weird one.

    ¡°We¡¯ll gather only fruits,¡± Lonian said. ¡°The prey in the green zone are strangely good at avoiding both humans and traps.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± The hunter in Medusa itched to take on the challenge, but she suppressed the urge.

    Maybe if she stared at the butterfly long enough. As if the insect heard her thought, its flight became more erratic, and it moved unnaturally faster than a regular butterfly. Her eyes tracked it as it zapped this way and that, hoping she could sense something to latch on to.

    Even though Clotho remained quiet in the background, Medusa felt the crushing pressure of her expectations. A tenth of a horai had since passed.

    Okay. Focus on aether and air. The divide also. What''s a divide!

    Medusa¡¯s brow knitted in confused frustration, then it loosened when she noticed something. She peered closer just to be sure, and she was right. I can see lines. The butterfly wasn¡¯t just flying, it was also using aether and air to assist its movement.

    Instinctively, Medusa reached for the squiggly lines marking the butterfly¡¯s flight path. It felt like tugging something fragile. The butterfly reacted, jerking at an unnatural angle. Someone may think it was its normal movement, but Medusa had observed it long enough to tell she had caused it.

    Did you see that? Medusa asked.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Focus on the line; you should be able to figure out how to catch it by now. Remember what I said about aether, air and what divides them.

    Medusa frowned again. The goal was to understand the rule behind what should be instinctual. Maybe if she thought of it like being submerged in a pool holding more oil than water, and focusing on what separated both elements. As Medusa strained her senses some more, she felt the space that forced both elements to remain apart.

    The understanding was so instant and easy that Medusa immediately acted on it. Stretching an arm in the direction the butterfly fluttered, her fingers twitched as she pulled at aether. The line that followed the butterfly swiftly untangled, fused to the tip of her index finger and grew taunt.

    Medusa grinned so big, her cheeks hurt. I caught it! Are you seeing this? The butterfly fluttered in place, straining to be free.

    Told you it would be easy, Clotho said in a smug voice. The next step is creating a space around it.

    Medusa¡¯s mind swam with myriad possibilities as the line pulled the butterfly along like a tiny kite. Could she use this on a person? How much focus and control would that take? And to create a dimension, she had to¡­ The next step is to expand the divide and cover the butterfly, right?

    See? There was a smile in Clotho''s voice. You''re a natural.

    How large can I make¡ª

    Air shifted next to Medusa¡¯s ear as something buzzed past.

    ¡°Uff!¡± She staggered back, using aether to catch her fall when she crashed into Lonian. Why did he stop?

    ¡°What''s the matter?¡±

    Instead of answering, Lonian hunkered down, his focus fixed on the ground. Walking around the large boy, Medusa grimaced when she saw it. The carcass of a three-horned wild goat; she could tell because only its head and feet remained. What was weirder was the state of the feet; they were chewed up to the ankle but upright.

    I hope this is not what I think it is.

    Medusa sighed. Her earlier instinct to be cautious was correct. A beast was about, and an odd one at that. There were no flies or blood around the carcass, and it appeared dried out by the sun. She sniffed. No smell of decay either.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m looking at.¡± Lonian stood and glanced around with a puzzled frown on his face. Medusa did the same. Nothing appeared amiss. She also noticed they were much closer to the trees. A three-minute walk should get them into the main forest.

    Lonian¡¯s broad sword appeared in his grip after he flicked his wrist. ¡°It¡¯s best we¡ª¡± He suddenly stopped speaking at the same moment his weapon slipped from his grip.

    Something was off. Heart dropping to the pit of her belly, Medusa tentatively reached for him. ¡°Lonian?¡±

    That boy is terrified.

    What? Why? Medusa looked around wildly, trying and failing to see any danger. ¡°Lonian, what¡¯s wrong? Say something.¡±

    There is a boulder bear ahead.

    A what? Medusa had never heard of such a beast before. And what was that buzzing sound from earlier? It was increasing.

    ¡°Hey, Lonian!¡± Medusa grabbed his arm and tugged but he remained fused to the spot, eyes fixed ahead and sweat sliding down his temple.

    His hands were shaking. ¡°The bees,¡± he choked out.

    ¡°Bees? What bees?¡± What¡¯s he saying? This was unexpected behaviour. Lonian didn¡¯t seem like the kind of person who¡¯d be easily frightened by bees.

    You both need to get out of here, Clotho said urgently. Get out right now.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Medusa yelled at Lonian. ¡°We need to leave.¡± She looked ahead and still couldn¡¯t see the beast, but the buzzing sound was getting louder.

    She grabbed Lonian¡¯s hand only to notice something. Red patches. Her hands flew to her mouth when she looked at his face. The patches spread across his neck at an alarming speed, and within a blink, his face was covered. But he just stood there, sweaty-faced, wide-eyed and body trembling.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Medusa asked in a raw panic. Why wouldn¡¯t he move?

    It seems he has been stung. An allergic reaction perhaps. How unlucky. This is dangerous, Medusa. You need to leave.

    Medusa released Lonian¡¯s arm, ready to leave. He should be fine since he¡¯s awakened.

    Clotho said nothing.

    Medusa stumbled to a stop. He would be fine, right?

    A rustling sound ahead snatched Medusa¡¯s attention. What¡¯s that? Eyes wide, her gaze roamed the shadows beyond the tree line. Why can¡¯t I see anything?

    Get out now, Medusa. Run. The urgency in Clotho¡¯s voice worsened.

    But I can¡¯t leave Lonian. Desperate, Medusa grabbed his tunic and tugged. But the boy was a giant and whatever this strange allergic reaction was, it locked him in place, like his feet were nailed to the ground.

    Is he going to die if I leave him?

    You should be concerned about your own life. It¡¯s too late for him. Every mortal dies.

    What? Medusa froze, momentarily stunned at the cold finality in Clotho¡¯s voice. Lonian was going to die? Was it normal for Reds to die in the Nest?

    You have to listen to¡ª

    Medusa tuned out Clotho¡¯s voice. She was one of them after all. A mortal¡¯s life must be nothing in her sight.

    Whirling to face Lonian, Medusa applied aether and struck his face. Not even a twitch. ¡°YOU WILL DIE IF WE DON¡¯T LEAVE,¡± she shouted. ¡°SNAP OUT OF IT, DAMN IT!¡±

    Staggering back, Medusa rushed forward with even more aether pushing at her feet and body-slammed him.

    Futile. It was like crashing into a mountain. Shock overshadowed the pain of collision as Medusa fell to the ground, groaning in the daze.

    Heart hammering in her ears, she hugged her aching arm to her chest and swayed to her feet. She looked from Lonian¡¯s now placid face to the trees. The shadows moved. Something large took its time as it approached.

    Tears stung Medusa¡¯s eyes. Do I really have to leave him?

    Fine! Give him the band. Clotho said in an exasperated voice.

    Yes. The band. Medusa attempted to do just that, but between her aching arms, trembling fingers and the buzzing sound getting louder, the band slipped, disappearing into the grass.

    No. No. No. Medusa fell to her knees, madly slapping grass aside and straining her eyes. Where was it?

    An arm¡¯s length to your left.

    Medusa followed Clotho¡¯s instruction and nearly sobbed in relief when her fingers touched the band. Springing to her feet, she dived for Lonian¡¯s hand and slid the band in place, barely noticing how it automatically adjusted to the size of his hand.

    But it¡¯s too late, you stubborn mortal. There was resignation in Clotho¡¯s voice. You should have listened to me.

    What? What do you mean it¡¯s too late?

    The sound of a huff was accompanied by loud buzzing. Medusa didn¡¯t want to look, but her body moved. When she saw it, she stumbled away and crashed into Lonian''s stiff form. He fell like a log.

    Clotho, what is that? Fear spread a bitter taste at the back of her tongue as her body throbbed in time with her heavy heartbeat. The creature stood well over seven feet but its body. Why is its body like that?

    A bear-like thing with a large jagged rock growing from its back, clouded eyes, curved glistening claws and¡­ and bee hives. Medusa counted about four clumps fused to its body.

    It shook its body like a wet dog, sending a cloud of bees and spurts of what resembled honey scattering.

    I can activate ¡®breathing¡¯ and run.

    Too risky. It''s not up to a full day since you last used ¡®breathing¡¯. You should have left when they didn¡¯t sense your presence. Clotho sounded stressed. And you¡¯re stung already; look at your hand.

    It seemed like confirming that she was indeed stung was what triggered the symptoms and throbbing pain. There was a bright red spot on the back of her left thumb. A wave of heat started from her feet and travelled up, her throat began to itch, and there was something else¡ªsomething worse.

    This is strange. What is a boulder bear doing here? Clotho¡¯s voice switched from stressed out to pissed. Unlike that mortal, you seem not to be allergic. You can still¡ª

    Clotho, I can¡¯t move my legs. As the alarming realisation dawned, terror blasted through Medusa and scrambled her thoughts.

    Clotho sighed. I was hoping your deity blood would nullify the symptoms. Give me a moment, child. I will get help.

    Before Medusa could give a reply, the link vanished and she was left alone with a now unconscious Lonian.

    The sound of a grunt drew her attention back to the beast. It blinked milky eyes, raised its wet snout and sniffed the air before turning in Medusa¡¯s direction and lumbering over on all fours.

    Medusa bit her lips and resisted the maddening urge to scream for Clotho to hurry. The worst part was that the numb feeling was steadily crawling up her legs. Her mind flashed to the goat they found earlier and her panicking mind connected the horrifying dots. This thing probably ate its prey as it stood frozen in place.

    Don''t panic, Medusa. Do not panic. What are your options? It seemed the bees were deadly but merciful. Only one stung her so far. The bear appeared blind and slow, taking its time with its approach, almost as if it knew the bees had immobilised its prey.

    No way I¡¯m your prey.

    Focus fixed on the beast, Medusa deftly nocked her arrow as she tried not to focus on the feeling of numbness reaching her knees or her throbbing thumb. Its eyes were the best target. If she could manipulate aether and air to maintain the arrow''s connection to her, similar to how the butterfly used both elements to move. Maybe...

    Exhaling, Medusa released the arrow and watched it neatly sail for her target. The path was clear; no way she¡¯d miss¡ª

    In an unbelievable burst of swift movement, the beast caught the arrow between its teeth and easily snapped it in half with a powerful bite, aether and all.

    Oh no.

    There was a shift in the air, a pulsing sensation starting where the bear stood and spreading to her location. Enraged, it roared, exposing long vicious fangs and strings of drool. As if in answer, even more bees poured out of the hives. They gathered in a tight buzzing mass and spun like a top before shooting at her.

 27. The Nest [2]

    Medusa blindly swung her arm, banking on her scant understanding of dimensions to work. In a fraction of a second, the buzzing stopped. The ensuing silence was so sharp and sudden that her ears popped.

    Relief washed through her when she cracked her eyes open and came upon an empty sky. Not a single bee in sight. It worked! When she sharpened her focus, she noticed a floating transparent mass about the size of a cartwheel. It rippled in and out of sight, and if she wasn¡¯t directly looking out for it, it vanished from her view.

    Sighing, Medusa glanced around and flinched. The boulder bear was a mere fifteen feet from where she stood, but despite being within the beast¡¯s line of sight, it did not approach. Has its blindness worsened? She tentatively waved her arm. Zero reaction. So the bees helped its navigation. Interesting.

    Even though she had gotten rid of the bees, she was still in a bad spot. The numbness had travelled past her knees, and the urge to freak out was overwhelming. If the paralysis was anything like her petrification curse, she was doomed. That thing easily killed powerful blood carriers.

    Okay, breathe and think. There had to be a way. Now that the bear appeared disoriented, she could kill it. No. Instead of that, she could attempt holding it in a dimension. Yeah, trapping it in a dimension made more sense.

    As Medusa did with the butterfly, she connected to the bear¡¯s movement line and got a sense of how air and aether moved around it. She frowned; something felt off with the way the elements acted around the beast¡¯s rocky back. Her fear was soon confirmed when her attempt to trap it was repelled.

    Come on!

    After five failed attempts, she gave up. But as soon as she stopped, the beast halted mid-pace, lifted its snout, and sniffed the air. Then, it turned and began lumbering in her direction.

    You''ve got to be kidding me. Heart sinking, Medusa attempted to flee and whimpered when she recalled she was stuck. Desperate, she snatched an arrow, manipulated air around the bowstring to muffle its twang and aimed it at the bear. Making a last-minute decision, she shifted her target a foot away and fired. It reacted instantly, pouncing and attacking the arrow with a rabid ferocity.

    As Medusa watched the rampaging beast, goosebumps raced across her skin. That speed. If anything would kill her, it would be the bear¡¯s insane reaction time. It raised its head and sniffed again; drool slid down its maws as it released a huff and resumed its approach.

    Biting back a shout of frustration, Medusa reached for another arrow. That beast must never reach her. Despite the cool morning breeze, sweat poured down her brow; a line slid into her eye and forced her to blink hard. She¡¯d have to take multiple shots to counter its speed, but her fingers wouldn¡¯t stop trembling and her breathing was ragged. It also didn¡¯t help that her thumb still throbbed with hot pain from the bee sting.

    Medusa had just controlled her breathing and was about to release the arrow when she heard it. A drawn-out groan. Horrified, she chanced a backward glance and spotted Lonian struggling to sit up. Of all the times to come to, it had to be now.

    From the corner of her eyes, she caught the bear¡¯s movement. It leapt in their direction, claws extended, jaws unhinged and cloudy enraged eyes fixed on her.

    Medusa couldn¡¯t tell if some higher being reached into her mind and opened a door, but understanding suddenly dawned and she attempted something she would never have considered even with a million do-overs. Expanding the divide, she enveloped both her and Lonian in a dimension.

    The bear jumped right through her.

    Panting, Medusa noticed in shock that she was on her knees. The paralysis was gone and so was the feeling of the wind against her skin. She turned and spotted the bear. It bounded about, flattening the grass and swiping at nothing.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°Lonian!¡± Medusa hurried over. The red patches and the stiffness were gone. He appeared perfectly fine. ¡°You''re okay.¡±

    He sprung to his feet when he noticed the bear. ¡°That¡¯s a boulder bear! What¡¯s a boulder bear doing in the Grecian continent?¡± Eyes wide, he looked from the bear to Medusa. ¡°And my sword. Why can¡¯t I access my pocket?¡± He flicked his wrist and frowned when he spotted the beaded band. ¡°Why am I wearing this? What happened?¡±

    Medusa sighed and stood too. ¡°Are you allergic to bees?¡±

    His frown deepened as he nodded. ¡°But it''s only mild. I remember we saw a carcass. And a bee¡­¡± his words faded as he glanced around, appearing even more confused. ¡°This is strange. I can¡¯t feel the wind.¡± He sniffed. ¡°Or pick any scent. And why isn¡¯t the boulder bear attacking us?¡±

    Medusa gave him a rundown of the situation. His gaze became unreadable when she got to the part about creating a ¡®pocket¡¯ to trap the bees and hide.

    Lonian suddenly offered a sharp bow as the muscles of his jaw ticked. ¡°Forgive this mortal for not recognising a deity,¡± he said through gritted teeth.

    ¡°What?¡± Medusa was so shocked by the insinuation that her mind went blank.

    ¡°I will keep your secret, so you don¡¯t have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± She would have laughed if this was funny. ¡°I am not a deity.¡±

    ¡°If that is what you wish me to believe, I shall believe it.¡± The shift in attitude was so jarring that Medusa wanted to scream. Whatever air of easy friendship he exuded vanished and in its place was cold formality.

    ¡°I swear I¡¯m a mortal.¡± Medusa facepalmed as she struggled for an explanation that made sense. ¡°Why would I need the wristband if I¡¯m not a mortal?¡±

    ¡°This lowly mortal can never understand the workings of a deity¡¯s mind.¡±

    Medusa laughed bitterly. Of all the things to be mistaken for, it had to be a deity. ¡°Lonian, if I was playing mortal, why would I save you?¡±

    ¡°Sincerely, there is no need to further convince this mortal¡ª¡±

    ¡°If I were a deity, I would have obliterated the beast, manipulated your memories and waited for you to come to. Why would I hide like some rat if I had all that power?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Lonian tentatively straightened and cocked his head. ¡°You do make a valid point.¡±

    Medusa threw her hands. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°You truly are not a deity?¡±

    She chuffed. ¡°Why would I want to be something I despise?¡±

    ¡°You despise deities?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ some of them,¡± she answered with a shrug.

    A thoughtful look crossed his face as he continued observing her. ¡°I also have some¡­reservations about them.¡±

    They both fell silent and watched the bear. It had stopped its rampage, now it paced back and forth like a caged animal. Must be determined and hungry.

    ¡°How did you create this though?¡± Lonian stretched a hand. Upon contact, the wall of the dimension rippled like water. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a pocket that holds living things.¡± His gaze returned to her and widened. ¡°Does this mean you¡¯re now awakened?¡± His tone grew excited. ¡°But I don¡¯t sense any difference. Is it because we¡¯re in this space? How do we get out?¡±

    I don¡¯t know. But Medusa couldn¡¯t tell him that. Clotho had taught her how to create dimensions, not destroy them.

    As if thinking of the Moirai summoned her, Medusa sensed her link.

    Just say you''re awakened, that will help explain away things.

    ¡°I¡­ think I¡¯m awakened?¡±

    Medusa stumbled forward when Lonian slapped her back and laughed. ¡°Awesome! A great win for the dogs.¡±

    How did you think to hide in a dimension? There was a proud note in Clotho''s voice. I teach you one and you learn a hundred. Even the venom lost its potency.

    Thank you? Medusa was stuck between feeling proud of her achievement and bemoaning how weak her attack was. She had been powerless against the bear, a mere prey waiting to be killed.

    I planted a thought in that boy. The one with the beautiful face.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Akrivi?

    Yes. He should be here any moment.

    ¡°This is really impressive.¡± Lonian¡¯s already happy face appeared even happier as he observed the dimension. ¡°The first pocket I made was the size of my fist. At my awakening ceremony, they covered my eyes with the seeing blindfold and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Someone is coming,¡± Medusa said.

    They both looked in time to see Akrivi shoot through the grass. In a blink, he was upon the beast, slashing with precision. Each movement was as fluid as water and with each cut a blue line followed. Blood splattered as the bear roared. Each swipe from the beast led to a severed limb. The bear staggered, attempting to balance on its hind feet, but Akrivi flashed behind it and sliced through both ankles.

    The bear released a strangled huff. As it landed on its severed front paw, Akrivi¡¯s sword was waiting. The blade pierced through its head, instantly killing it.

    ¡°The showoff,¡± Lonian muttered despite wearing a big grin.

    Akrivi dislodged his weapon and flatly watched the beast collapse. Flicking the blood off his sword, he glanced about with sharp eyes.

    ¡°How do we get out of this?¡± Lonian asked.

    ¡°Umm¡­ give me a moment.¡±

    Clotho¡­

    You figured out how to hide in a dimension but you can¡¯t figure out how to destroy one? There was a note of incredulity in Clotho¡¯s voice.

    My mind is fried.

    Fine. Remember the line? Just snap it in half, Clotho said with a sigh. And you were doing so well as a star pupil.

    Cut me some slack. I nearly died.

    But here you are, still alive.

    Medusa rolled her eyes and did as Clotho said. Akrivi was before them in an instant, and she had to go through the whole process of explaining how they managed to survive.

    ¡°Awakened, huh?¡± He looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. ¡°But I don¡¯t know why I keep feeling like you¡¯re trouble.¡±

    Not knowing how to react, Medusa focused on the bear. Akrivi wasn¡¯t wrong to be suspicious. Even though she wasn¡¯t a deity, she was deceiving them to an extent. Yes, she was mortal, but both her parents were deities, this wasn¡¯t her real face and freaking Athena had a chain around her neck.

    Akrivi mulled over the kill. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about the beast¡¯s meat, but I¡¯ve heard good things about its honey.¡±

    ¡°Hey, soft hands, ever skinned an animal before?¡± Akrivi asked as he produced a leather strip holding a spread of flaying knives.

    Lonian chuckled at the nickname. ¡°Stop teasing the rich kid.¡±

    Swallowing a retort, Medusa mutely joined them in extracting the comb. They worked in silence until Clotho dropped the bomb.

    It¡¯s about the being you saw when you nearly died. Yes, she is my second sister, and I believe she intends to join hands with the one they call Perseus.

    <hr>

    The bitter liquid slid down Perseus'' throat and warmed his belly. Since he arrived at this pit of Hades, the rain had refused to let up. It either poured or drizzled, but never ceased.

    Despite the coolness in the air, sweat misted his brow and the back of his neck. He bounced his knees as his gaze travelled from the shadowed corridor to the open space of the arena.

    It¡¯s mercy. Doing this is mercy.

    He retrieved his sword from his pocket for the fifth time since his watch. Lightning struck, illuminating the dim early morning sky for a fleeting moment.

    Perseus took another gulp of wine. The hunched girl had been kind enough to sneak him a flask. Wine, smoking pipes and an array of strange elixirs were a norm in Cronus¡¯ Hovel. Money and power held sway in the school and those willingly sent by their house had access to monetary provisions. But he was kidnapped. No backing. A nobody. Having an empty pocket meant he depended on the school for everything. But that was fine. Everything was as fine and perfect as the weather.

    His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he glared at the small body on the muddy ground.

    Why, just why did he see Linos whenever he looked at that boy? Day and night, the child remained in the same pitiful state. Whenever he dared to move, the dryad moved as well, never relenting as it stabbed the boy, crushing his fight.

    This is mercy. Perseus assured himself as he drowned the content of the flask and discarded it with a careless hand. He stood and stepped into the drizzle. Another step. Then another. They said nobody was permitted to help him, but they said nothing about ending his suffering.

    If that were Linos, I would be thankful to anyone who would put him out of his misery. The arena was empty. Perseus had absconded the mandatory morning drill for this, and he would bear whatever punishment came after. Since his stunt with lightning, the news about whose blood he carried spread fast. The seniors did well staying out of his way, and his perpetual black mood did not help matters.

    Not that he cared if anyone saw what he was about to do. The swine who ran this accursed school would meet the end of his blade once he learned all there was to learn of his power.

    The drizzle grew heavier, rain pelting him as he finally came to a stop. The boy groaned as he rolled to his back. Curiously, the dryad did not react. Perseus glanced at it and noticed the filthy beast had turned its face away.

    You wait. Once I free this child, I shall come for you.

    Hunkering down, Perseus cocked his head as he peered at the boy. He blinked his eyes open and flinched when he noticed Perseus.

    ¡°You are suffering.¡±

    The boy¡¯s breathing grew laboured as he stared at Perseus.

    ¡°You have no strength to reach for your sword.¡±

    The boy blinked from his discarded sword to Perseus¡¯ face. ¡°Help me.¡± His voice was raspy from disuse.

    ¡°That is why I am here,¡± Perseus said in a gentle voice. ¡°But the instructor said I can not kill the dryad for you.¡±

    The boy seemed to think about Perseus¡¯ words for a moment. His eyes widened. ¡°Then you¡­¡±

    Perseus nodded. At least he was smart. ¡°Yes. I plan to end your suffering.¡±

    The boy¡¯s face crumbled as his tears joined the rain. Perseus could not tell if they were tears of fear or gratitude, but that mattered little. It was only natural to feel terror in the face of death.

    ¡°I have a brother much like you back home. Weak Linos.¡± Perseus¡¯ gaze flitted to the dryard, but it was not the beast he saw. He winced when Linos¡¯ smiling face morphed into the demented grin of the mormo. ¡°I would want¡­ I would want a similar mercy to be shown to my brother if his weakness causes him unbearable suffering.¡±

    The boy¡¯s breathing grew even more laboured. Perseus dispassionately watched as he weakly strained for his discarded sword.

    Perseus frowned. ¡°Do you wish to do it yourself? But I fear you have no strength for that.¡±

    The boy broke into audible sobs.

    ¡°Why do you weep? Because of your weakness?¡± Perseus walked to the sword and kicked it over. ¡°Take it.¡±

    He flatly watched the boy struggle to hold the weapon. He didn¡¯t even have the strength to lift it up. This thing twisting in his chest¡ªsurely it was compassion. Yesterday, he had watched the dryad stab the boy about two hundred times within a horai. Painful to watch.

    Resolute, Perseus¡¯ grip tightened around his sword. If he injected enough aether in his strike, it would achieve a swift painless death. Even though his hand shook, the wine helped to settle his wavering emotions. He had never killed a person, but this was mercy. He had to do it.

    ¡°Please.¡± The boy¡¯s whisper reached Perseus¡¯ ears.

    He is practically begging to be free. I must do this.

    ¡°What is your name?¡± Perseus asked. ¡°I will build you a memorial when I leave this place.¡±

    ¡°H-Heracles.¡± The boy sobbed harder when he spotted Perseus¡¯ raised sword.

    ¡°Do not weep, Heracles. This will be painless.¡±

    ¡°P-please,¡± Heracles begged with more tears. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    Perseus shut his eyes and snuffed out the spark of pity in his chest. ¡°I will remember you, Heracles.¡± He pierced down, but before his sword could stab his mark, someone slammed into him.

    Pain exploded at his side as he struck the earth, somersaulted across the muddy ground and hit a wall. Groaning, he shook his head in a daze and blinked repeatedly. Who would dare¡ª

    His attacker was suddenly upon him, barely giving him a moment to catch a breath as they rained blows.

    ¡°You murderous bastard!¡±

    A female¡¯s voice.

    Perseus re-enforced his fist with aether and struck her jaw. He got a mere grunt as a reaction and more blows, this time vicious uppercuts that sent blood spilling past his lips.

    Curses! What was this inhuman strength? And she did something to the air around them. It weighed down on him, causing his movement to turn sluggish. He struggled against it, forcing blows of his own, but this girl¡­ it was like striking a rock. Her body was reinforced with aether.

    ¡°You think death is easy?¡± Her voice was a harsh snarl. ¡°I¡¯ll take you to its door.¡± She grabbed his tunic and smashed her head against his.

    Perseus¡¯ brain shook within his skull as stars burst in his vision. Never. Never in his life had he felt more pain or humiliation. He imagined Dictys witnessing this shame of being trashed by a female and he recoiled in black rage.

    ¡°I saw you watch the young lord with a sick glint in your eyes.¡± She glared at him as if he was worse than dirt, and in the midst of his pain, he recognised her. She was the harlot-looking female who finished second during their induction. ¡°I¡¯ll show you what death looks like.¡±

    Sensing incoming lightning, Perseus extended an arm not caring that he wasn¡¯t holding a sword. Lightning did not affect him anyway. But the whore seemed to realise something was off. She leapt off him at the last moment and the lightning energy drained into the earth without a mark.

    Perseus bared his teeth in rage as he forced himself to stand. Before his body could fully repair itself, she was upon him again, kicking him off his feet and stomping his face. When he attempted to rise, she straddled him and delivered more blows. At a point, she caught his arm mid-defence and viciously twisted it until she heard a crack.

    Perseus bit back a shout as he jerked his body in a desperate attempt to ease his pain and free himself.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re the weak one now, how about you die?¡± She grabbed his neck and began squeezing. ¡°Isn''t your suffering too much? Death is mercy.¡±

    Perseus blinked, feeling woozy. Black was beginning to seep into his vision.

    ¡°Go on. Beg,¡± she spat through clenched teeth. ¡°Plead for your life.¡±

    Wheezing, Perseus madly tapped at her arm. She increased the pressure instead, coldly watching him struggle. Not a spark of pity. His heart skipped a beat as fear razed through his senses. The whore intended to kill him.

    ¡°P-please,¡± he managed to choke out.

    ¡°I will remember you,¡± the whore flung Perseus¡¯ own words at him.

    When he realised the bitch wouldn¡¯t relent. He kicked his feet, struggling in futility to free himself. No, this can¡¯t be how I die¡­ no.

    But no matter how hard he struggled, unconsciousness came and when he opened his eyes, he was back in that strange space with the enraged goddess.

    She sat cross-legged, chin resting on a propped hand as she blinked at him with a bored gaze.

    Should I let her kill you?

 28. Death Is The Reward

    ¡°No!¡± Perseus shouted and immediately dropped his gaze. It was still hard to directly look at the goddess, so he focused on the thorny band around her exposed ankles. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want to die,¡± he whispered as he scowled at his reflection on the still water.

    That helpless feeling as life leaked out of him, the wild but useless panic as his breath and ability to speak was taken. Her cold eyes. Even in this alternate space, the phantom pain remained. It washed over him in hot pulses, especially his face. Raising a shaky hand, he gingerly touched his jaw. It felt numb. What he¡¯d give to put that bitch in her place. His fist clenched on his thigh as visions of revenge burned his mind.

    You are angry and desperate. Good.

    Perseus hung his head and succumbed to humility. The goddess claimed he was going through the inferno, and the more he considered her words, the more it made sense, especially the mormo attack and how easily he had been kidnapped. There was also the odd way Antigoni acted before his killers made an appearance. Another awful possibility teased his mind, daring him to form a logical conclusion.

    What if Dictys¡­ No. Perseus fiercely rejected the thought.

    Dictys would never. When their mother abandoned them and his father died, Dictys took them in without a complaint. He cared for them, especially Linos.

    ¡°Please,¡± Perseus mumbled. ¡°Please, make me strong.¡± Zeus¡¯ power and this goddess before him, he''ll grab them all. ¡°I will do anything,¡± he added.

    There was a long pause and just like the first time he came to this space, a sharp pain spread from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck. Gritting his teeth, Perseus bore it down.

    First, I must show you, she finally said.

    When Perseus looked up, he gawked. The goddess, now thrice her height, loomed over him like a tower. Her curly damp hair escaped her hood as she bent and touched his forehead.

    A war between two unfamiliar forces unfolded before Perseus'' eyes. They wielded spears and shields like Grecian soldiers but the quality of the winning army''s weapons and armour was far superior to anything he had ever seen.

    Their helmets, possessing the appearance of white skulls, came with a brass mask that completely hid their faces, and their shields released occasional puffs of fog as they advanced.

    It was an obliteration.

    The snowy plane was stained with blood and vomit from soldiers in fur and leather armour, their faces, purple and twisted in agony as they were coldly speared by passing white-armoured soldiers. Even the horrors Perseus witnessed during his father¡¯s death did not come close to this massacre.

    War is inevitable. Though the goddess¡¯ words reverberated around Perseus, he couldn''t see her.

    As soldiers died, white smoke curled off their bodies like snuffed candles before draining into the earth. Perseus frowned. Why did he suddenly remember Drain?

    Before he could pursue the thought, the scene changed to another of equal decimation. A city square with thousands of dead people in tall heaps. A woman wearing a pristine robe walked amidst it all. In her grip was a chain holding a smoking brazier, and she mumbled words as if in supplication for the dead.

    Disease is inevitable, the goddess said.

    The woman stopped before one of the hills of death, raised a slim tattooed arm and shouted a word Perseus could not understand. The same thing happened, only this time the curling smoke gathered and formed a dark orb before sinking into the woman¡¯s open palm. She walked to the next heap of bodies and repeated the strange ritual.

    Again the scene changed and this time it was to the most opulent palace Perseus had ever seen. Tall white walls, sparkling stained glass windows, shiny marble floors, bubbling springs and vibrant gardens. But like a stain in the air, death was present.

    Low voices. A man wearing ornate white robes took measured steps down the corridor leading to a small garden. Behind him was a glum entourage of equally white-clad people. The men kept their hair long like women and they had no weapon on them. Trailing the entourage were four sturdy men carrying a glass case that held the remains of an aged woman.

    Death is the reward of a long life. Black rage was back in the goddess¡¯ voice. Nothing should ever change that.

    Perseus observed the procession, watching as the case was placed on an altar at the centre of the garden. The man leading the entourage stepped forward, placed a hand on the glass and stared at the face of the old woman. There appeared to be tears in his eyes. After a stretch of solemn silence, he placed a red stone on the case. Dark smoke rose from the body and vanished into the gem.

    Perseus wondered what the goddess intended to show him. Perhaps the smoke was¡ª

    Hands suddenly grabbed his head from behind, forcing him to look at the long-haired man as he retrieved the gem.

    Look at him. The goddess¡¯ voice was a blast next to Perseus¡¯ ear. That thieving cheat. Commit his face to memory! Her enraged voice grew louder. They broke the foundation, warped the laws of nature and polluted what should be sacred.

    Though not understanding why, Perseus found himself feeling equally enraged at this stranger. He seemed like a royal, maybe a king, but he possessed a refined scholarly air about him.

    You will start with him, Perseus. She reduced her voice to a sinister whisper. You will find him and I will kill him with your hands.

    Although the goddess did not say it, Perseus suspected that if this person were still alive, they would already be a deity. ¡°But it¡¯s impossible to kill a deity?¡±

    The goddess released a dark bark of laughter as she withdrew her hands. A search dog shouldn''t worry about such things. Those so-called deities are nothing but thieves, and they can be killed.

    It was the wildest most ridiculous thought Perseus had ever heard. High gods existed since the beginning of time. They could not be killed. Perhaps the case was different for low deities since most of them started as mortal blood carriers. ¡°How?¡±

    I will give you the power you seek in doses, the goddess said, ignoring Perseus¡¯ question, but you must not interfere with the inferno. Allow them to play god¡­ for now.

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    SHUT UP. Her voice was a blast of thunder in his head.

    Groaning and falling to his knees, Perseus saw he was back at her domain and bleeding from his nostrils. She was seated at the top of the heap of black bones from where she glared at him with glowing angry eyes.

    If that one wasn¡¯t already corrupted by the thief and snatched by my sister, I would have used her instead of you. Do not make light of my patience. You have the choice to return to your beloved Athena but see this first. She snapped her fingers and Perseus was plunged into a horrifying vivid vision.

    He was in what resembled a temple, bound by chains and pulled along by veiled women. With impossible strength, they dragged an older version of himself to a large basin of blue fire. Another blink and he was tossed in. Burning but not dying. Endless agony. It felt too real. Even the smell of burnt flesh stuffed up his nose as his eyes watered.

    ¡°What is this?¡± And why did it feel like he had lived through it before? The terror and pain were too familiar.

    That is the punishment for anyone who dares to surpass the ceiling Athena has set for them. She rested her temple on her fist and peered at him. You are too ambitious, and that ambition will earn you more than a handful of visits to the basin. There is no one she can¡¯t break. There was a smirk in her voice.

    ¡°Athena wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± Even as Perseus spoke the words, he found himself wavering. All that supported his faith were the teachings he received since childhood, a relentless grilling that continued even after Dictys took them in.

    Athena the wise. Benevolent high goddess of Olympus. Daughter of Zeus. Queen of war.

    Every city, town, or village that held her temple prospered. Merchants connected to her bank never met misfortune; every kingdom in Cosmolith revered the goddess. Her wisdom and power ensured that no war touched the Grecian continent for the past two hundred years. It was only natural to worship her and to think otherwise was sacrilegious. Even so... The seed of doubt the dark goddess planted in his heart was already taking root.

    Believe whatever you wish. I have no regard for your opinion to lie to you. The goddess stood and the sound of clattering bones followed her movement. I will give you my power in doses, but first, receive the gift of my link.

    She stopped before him and touched his forehead.

    Perseus opened his eyes to the crying sky above the arena. He could recall nothing after the goddess touched his forehead, but, his pain was gone as far as he could tell. And though he was still lying on his back, the girl who nearly killed him was nowhere in sight. As he sat up, he looked in the direction of the dryad. Heracles was where he left him with his grip tight around his sword.

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    There was a strange feeling in Perseus'' gut, a warmth that swirled and felt like something he could draw from, a power separate from aether. A small smile lifted the corners of his lips. The dark goddess had kept her word. Raising his hand to his face, he frowned at the marking on his palm¡ªa small circle with a dot in the middle.

    That will make things easier for me.

    Perseus flinched at the sudden sound of her voice in his head. This wasn''t the first time the goddess had spoken to him outside her domain, but it felt different. ¡°I can feel your presence.¡±

    Speak in your mind. Impatience laced her voice.

    Like this?

    Yes, the goddess answered in an irritated tone. The hunched girl, the low deity who instructed you during your induction, a boy named Notos who is your senior, and an owl almost always perched on the tree branch closest to your dorm window.

    Frowning in confusion, Perseus pushed to his feet and sought out his sword. I do not understand.

    They''re Athena¡¯s eyes, and you are one of the privileged few the goddess has an eye on.

    The almighty Athena was watching him. If this news had come when he was still toiling for Dictys, he would have been ecstatic, but now something else was on his mind.

    Are they watching me now? Tightening his grip around the hilt of his sword, he glanced around as he approached Heracles.

    The goddess paused. ¡­Yes.

    Sighing in disappointment, he put his sword away. The idea was not to act in a way that would raise suspicion. But he would find a way to kill the boy no matter what. Initially, he wished to kill him out of mercy but not anymore. This time he planned to kill him for a selfish reason. That bitch had called Heracles ¡®young lord¡¯ which meant the weakling was either royalty or from a powerful house.

    Perseus scowled as he recalled how relentlessly she had swung at him; her killing intent had been sharper and more brutal than anything he had ever felt. I will kill your master before your eyes, and when I''m done, I will¡ª

    Remember not to attract the wrong attention. I¡¯ll deal with shutting Athena¡¯s eyes as we begin our search.

    When the goddess¡¯ link vanished, Perseus relaxed. Her presence felt like a hovering blade at the back of his neck¡ªa constant reminder of his weak position. It only made sense that the weak bow to the overwhelmingly strong, yet rebellion cooked in the shadows of his mind, urging him to never fully submit.

    Stopping before the boy, Perseus beamed. It was quite enjoyable watching horror eclipse his face sallow face. He had never seen someone look so drained.

    ¡°You have a fierce bodyguard, Heracles. Did you enjoy watching her defend you?¡± As Perseus spoke, he massaged his jaw. It was becoming a habit. ¡°She... she nearly killed me.¡±

    Perseus watched with no small amusement as rage battled fear in Heracles¡¯ eyes. A chuckle escaped before he could stop it. He was enjoying this way too much.

    ¡°Live today and struggle well.¡± He pumped a fist in encouragement and grinned, showing all his teeth. ¡°I shall visit tomorrow.¡±

    Offering a careless wave, Perseus whistled a tune as he headed for the dining hall, all the while coldly repeating a list in his head.

    The hunched girl.

    The first instructor.

    A boy named Notos.

    An owl at my window.

    ***

    Medusa struggled to focus on the open scroll. The assessment test lasted about an hour, and her score would determine if she was assigned to the Special, Standard, or Advanced Theory class. But after half an hour, she had barely gotten past the midway point. Sitting in a spacious white room with a single instructor and deafening silence made her mind race with ugly possibilities. What Clotho shared had ruined her earlier sense of victory. Thoughts of the bear and the bees shifted to strategising and questioning her sense of direction.

    Perseus was probably taking ten steps with every half step she took. According to Clotho, her return to her first life had triggered a rift that partially freed the deadliest of her two sisters. When Medusa asked how bad it was, Clotho sounded weary, something that was rare for the Moirai.

    A vast amount of Atropos¡¯ power is still sealed but the power of her rage alone is enough to cause significant damage. And for reasons I cannot understand, she has chosen Perseus as her hand of justice.

    Hand of justice. Medusa released a dry laugh. What a hoot.

    ¡°Is something funny?¡± the instructor asked.

    Yes. I heard the most hilarious joke in all of Cosmolith.

    ¡°I apologise.¡± Medusa offered a bow. The instructor was the plump deity that spotted two ridiculously long braids. She recalled her name was Atalanta.

    Instead of responding, Atalanta walked over and began reading Medusa¡¯s answers. Eyes widening, she grabbed the scroll.

    ¡°You say you¡¯re the daughter of a merchant?¡± She asked with a puzzled frown.

    Medusa nodded. What now? One could never tell with deities.

    ¡°All your answers so far are... too correct.¡±

    That¡¯s because my parents were obsessed with my education for some reason. The questions were based on basic education about lore, towns, cities, modes of government and financing. The other parts about beasts were the easiest.

    ¡°They are?¡± Medusa asked instead, hoping she did a decent job at showing surprise.

    ¡°Yes.¡± There was a pleased ring in Atalanta¡¯s voice. ¡°Your answers show a deep understanding of basic theories. How is it that you accurately labelled these beasts? You even spelled their names correctly.¡±

    ¡°My father is¡­ passionate about my education,¡± Medusa said, going with the simple truth. The first thirteen years of her first life were filled with learning. At one point, she even learned two lost languages. Not that she had minded; learning had always been easy for her.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Atalanta¡¯s face brightened like she had come upon a sudden treasure. ¡°Give me a moment.¡± Humming, she went about fishing for a scroll on the shelf to their right. Finding what she was looking for, she unrolled it before Medusa. ¡°How about attempting the advanced test?¡±

    From what Medusa learned after reading one of the two scrolls Nestor gave her, there were three branches of learning in Drys Valon. Practical, Theory and Physical. Within those branches were classes; special for the slow learners or generally lazy, standard for the average and advanced for the best. Because of her ¡®practical¡¯ performance during her trial, she had been given an assessment test for the Standard Theory class.

    "Alright," Medusa warily answered and retrieved her quill. Now that the instructor had distracted her from her turbulent thoughts, her mind felt clearer and the questions seemed easy. In the parts about aether, she included her base understanding of how she manipulated it.

    Her factual answers seemed to excite Atalanta. ¡°This is brilliant, May.¡±

    Brilliant? That felt like an exaggeration but she kept her thoughts to herself.

    ¡°Straight to the point and easy to understand.¡±

    Now Medusa understood why the deity was happy with her answers. The expected methods of answering questions in the Grecian education system usually entailed padding words. Like using a thousand sentences to explain a simple concept. Going through the modern education system in a fifth life had killed that off.

    ¡°Such masterful use of language.¡± Atalanta''s eyes eagerly roved over Medusa¡¯s answers. ¡°How perfect it would be if you were also awakened,¡± she added sadly.

    ¡°But I''m already awakened¡± There was no need for pretence. She was prepared to use every card to advance as fast as possible.

    ¡°Child, speak the truth.¡± Atalanta¡¯s voice turned serious as a small frown squeezed her brow. ¡°Even now, I can barely sense your presence. You hardly possess enough aether for a blood carrier.¡±

    "I can show you." Medusa extended an arm and retrieved a scroll from her dimension.

    Atalanta first blinked in surprise, then she rushed forward, almost lifting Medusa off her seat as she grabbed her shoulders. ¡°When did you awaken?¡± She asked eagerly. ¡°How large is your pocket?¡±

    Looking around, Medusa wondered what would appear normal to hold in her dimension. Going for something enormous seemed like an overkill so she went for the large decorative vase in the corner. Walking over, she made it disappear and appear.

    ¡°Marvellous!¡± Atalanta cried in a sing-song voice as she clapped. ¡°But how are you doing that?¡± She appeared genuinely perplexed as she observed Medusa.

    ¡°Doing what?¡±

    ¡°Your presence is faint enough not to draw attention.¡±

    Medusa shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± A truth that would seem like a lie, but she hardly cared.

    ¡°A family secret, eh?¡±

    When she said nothing, Atalanta chuckled. ¡°Very well.¡±

    Rolling up Medusa¡¯s test sheets, she nodded resolutely. ¡°You will be joining the Standard Practical class. I¡¯d advise that you try for the advanced practical in their next assessment trial.¡±

    Medusa gulped. If she recalled correctly, those who had been leaping and crawling across the pillar on her first day were all from the Advanced Practical class. But they had been competing for Vaso''s special class. Maybe the trial for the Advanced Practical class wouldn¡¯t be that tough.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready,¡± Medusa said.

    ¡°Nonsense!¡± Atalanta waved her words away. ¡°Why do we have excellent instructors in Drys Valon if we cannot teach you what you need to advance?¡±

    Medusa didn''t have a reply so she remained mute.

    ¡°Come with me. You''ll be joining the Advanced Theory class.¡± Atalanta hummed as she led Medusa down the corridor. She had a fruity scent similar to strawberry along with a bubbly personality that made it impossible to pass a person¡ªstudent or instructor¡ªwithout sharing one or more words in greeting.

    Aiming to join the Advanced Practical class was a wise decision. Observing skilled students as they manipulate aether should yield good results. Coupled with Clotho''s lessons, she may be able to achieve rapid progress.

    What was this nervousness feeling and why did it remind her of the first time she joined the priestesses at the temple¡¯s lyceum? Their stares had been direct and judgemental. It was hate at first sight from some, and her attractive appearance seemed to have worsened matters for her. Oh, and there was the open secret that both her parents were deities.

    But nobody knew her here, though. So why was she still nervous? Ah, just accept it. Even after six lives, meeting new people still unnerved her.

    Soon they entered the wide classroom in the style of an odium and the first person she recognised was Vaso the bejewelled.

    He scowled at Atalanta, barely acknowledging Medusa¡¯s presence. ¡°What do you want?¡± He spat.

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t always be a fight between us, Vaso.¡± She clicked her tongue and smiled at him. ¡°You have a new student. May solved all the advanced test questions in record time.¡±

    A murmur rose among the students, but Medusa didn''t spare them a glance despite their stares drilling into the side of her face.

    Vaso scowled. ¡°Proof?¡±

    ¡°Here.¡± Atalanta produced the test scroll and tossed it at Vaso.

    After reading its content for a terse moment, Vaso returned it to Atalanta with an impatient hand. ¡°Fine.¡± He nodded at an empty spot on the fifth row to Medusa''s left. ¡°Sit over there.¡±

    As Medusa approached the spot, she sighed on the inside when she recognised one of the students. It was Eristes, the bull terrier. What was worse was the fact that she''d be sitting next to him. And he wasn''t the only face she recognised. There was also the boy and girl who came first and second in the pillar race.

    Maintaining a bland expression, she settled next to Eristes. And as expected, he barely sat still for a full minute before leaning over

    "It seems you had a good education."

    "So it seems," Medusa replied as she eyed the stone slab in front of her. There was a silver needle next to it. Was it for writing?

    ¡°Take a long look around, May,¡± Eristes said in a low, mean voice. ¡°No Akrivi to protect you. You¡¯re in my kingdom now.¡±

 29. Hide Your Cards

    ¡°What kingdom?¡± Medusa retrieved the needle sitting next to her stone slab and observed it.

    Judging from Eristes¡¯ silence, her question must have stunned him. The child. If she combined the years she¡¯d lived, she¡¯d qualify to be his ancestor more than thrice over.

    ¡°How¡­ how dare you?¡± he sputtered, aether flaring around him. Some students glanced in their direction but none was bold enough to openly stare. Interesting. He was a prince, just as Chilion claimed, and a feared one at that.

    ¡°Later,¡± Medusa said as she took in the intricate markings on the needle. ¡°You can educate me on this kingdom of yours later.¡± She made a mental note to ask Vaso to change her sitting position after the class.

    Ignoring the seething boy, she glanced around. Most of the students wrote on scrolls but a few used stone slabs. She wondered what qualified her to get a slab. Was it a new student thing? A skill she must figure out on her own?

    Curious, Medusa poured a thin stream of aether into the needle and attempted to write a line across the slab. It flowed naturally like a hot knife through butter. Nice.

    She had just attempted to write another line when she felt it. A sudden vice grip around her right wrist. She hissed from the pain.

    ¡°What?¡± Eristes cocked his head in question. ¡°Do I have your attention now?¡±

    In a moment of burning rage, Medusa considered destroying the dimension and unleashing the bees on him, but she discarded the emotional idea. Not only was she incapable of controlling the bees, it made better sense to hide such a card.

    ¡°One of the attributes the Western Locratian kingdom looks for in blood carriers is subservience.¡± As he spoke he increased the pressure around her wrist; her fingers turned red and began to tremble. ¡°Even though you obviously lack that, I¡¯m willing to give you an offer. Join our ranks.¡±

    His boldness was no surprise. Over the years, a few Western Locratia royals had ascended as low deities, and the kingdom''s influence, both in commerce and the military, was not something to be scoffed at. That Medusa presented herself as the daughter of Venetis, a common name with no weight, meant arrogant scums like Eristes will see her as easy picking.

    ¡°I heard you¡¯re the daughter of some unknown merchant.¡± A condescending smile brightened his face. ¡°My kingdom is a foremost beneficiary of House Plutus; joining us will help your family business.¡±

    You think I give a damn about that? Medusa¡¯s left fist tightened around the needle. ¡°And if I refuse your generous offer?¡±

    The beaded band around her wrist grew warm, and though it kept her wrist from shattering, it barely stopped the pain.

    ¡°For an unawakened nobody, you are quite bold.¡± He frowned as his gaze roved over her face. ¡°And you handle pain well.¡± Now he didn¡¯t even bother whispering. At least two rows ahead should be in on their conversation, and if Vaso was worth his salt, he should be aware of Eristes¡¯ blatant bullying. But the instructor continued his lesson, acting like nothing was happening at the back.

    ¡°Let go,¡± Medusa said through clenched teeth. The needle felt hot in her grip as she pumped in aether in increments of her rising pain and anger. Some bullies only understood force; Eristes seemed like the type who would greatly benefit from a sound lesson in that area.

    ¡°I will let go if you agree to join my faction,¡± he said.

    Making up her mind, Medusa raised her hand.

    Eristes chuckled. ¡°What are you doing? You think the instructor will save you?¡±

    Ignoring him, Medusa kept her hand up.

    Vaso looked in their direction and released an exasperated sigh. ¡°If you plan to sob about your fellow student harming you, you¡¯re in the wrong class. I¡¯m not responsible for your protection.¡±

    Medusa was hardly surprised at his response. ¡°Thanks for the permission, instructor.¡±

    Without waiting for a response, she positioned the pulsing needle between two fingers and flicked it at Eristes while manipulating air to increase its velocity by tenfold.

    It hit its target like a mini-missile, the blast sending dust and debris flying about. Eristes leapt away, righting his steps at the last moment to keep himself from falling. Amidst his demolished stone desk was a crater with a blackened impact point. The needle was nowhere in sight.

    Though shocked at the extent of the damage, Medusa maintained a schooled expression as she met Eristes¡¯ trembling eyes. ¡°I promise not to miss next time.¡±

    She had intended to use air alone for the attack, thinking aether would escape the needle before it hit its target, but that wasn''t the case. Maybe it had to do with the inscriptions on the needle or the speed of the attack. One thing was clear, the impact turned out to be ten times more effective because aether was involved.

    Possibilities exploded in her head. If Clotho¡¯s link was present, she would have discussed her ideas.

    ¡°You dare threaten a Locratian prince?¡± Eristes cried. ¡°You¡¯re done. Do you hear me?¡± He stabbed a trembling finger at his ear, eyes flashing with black fury. ¡°By the time we¡¯re done with your little merchant shops, you¡¯d be buried¡ªworse than beggars!¡±

    Medusa was more impressed by the fact everybody quietly watched his tantrum. Even Vaso. Now she understood why Dog House existed. It has been ages since she witnessed the raging of a scorned royal.

    Just to be petty, Medusa gave in to her inner child and simpered. ¡°Should that scare me? Your kingdom is nothing compared to House Venetis; my father can pound yours to dust.¡±

    Medusa laughed on the inside at Eristes¡¯ volcanic reaction. Never in her life had she witnessed a person turn red that fast. The poor throbbing veins on his face.

    Indirectly boasting about Phorcys felt good. She wondered how he was doing. The little time she shared with him had felt strangely comforting. As for the non-existent father called Venetis, even if they searched all of Cosmolith, they¡¯d find no Venetis with a daughter named May. Good luck with your revenge.

    ¡°Return to your seat, Eristes.¡± Vaso¡¯s voice, tight with impatience, cut through Medusa¡¯s thoughts. ¡°You''ve both sufficiently entertained me; any more and you¡¯d be tossed in the screecher maze.¡±

    Though the threat was directed at Eristes, Medusa felt a sudden chill. Of all the beasts to mention, it had to be a screecher.

    After the class, Eristes fled in a huff while some students gathered around Vaso to ask questions. Since she already knew all there was to know about the beast his lesson was based on, she spent the bulk of her time struggling not to sink into horrid memories.

    Those who came to seek her head used screechers, even Perseus. The ugly sound the beast made, that blood-red third eye that glowed when they found their target. More memories fought to claw out but she resisted, casting her mind to new ideas instead. Her ability to create dimensions, the needles and the mini-missiles¡ªeven the bees. There was something there, something that could work if she gave it more thought.

    Unbidden, a thought of caution bubbled up. One day, these memories and emotions you continue to suppress will escape and consume you.

    Medusa immediately slammed the door on the thought. That day was not today. So there''s that. Suppressing the worst of her emotions and bitter memories was something she excelled at, a skill polished to near perfection throughout her lives until Antonii''s¡ª

    ¡°How are you so bold?¡±

    Medusa blinked, grateful for the interruption. A slender girl with sharp eyes lined with kohl smiled down at her. She touched the blackened impact point, light bouncing off her polished sharp nails as she rubbed the pad of her fingers together.

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    ¡°Very strange.¡± There was a rolling note in her voice, an accent Medusa couldn¡¯t place.

    She grinned, and Medusa half-expected to see fangs. ¡°Have my accent given me away?¡±

    Though Medusa had vast knowledge stored in her head, things like accents were impossible to label because of how sheltered her first life had been. Both at home and in the temple. Even when others were sent on missions, Medusa was never allowed to.

    ¡°How could I endanger Phorcys¡¯ beloved daughter? It is too dangerous for a mortal. Stay here and offer your worship.¡±

    ¡°Please, allow me to show my devotion. I know all the stances. I can help. Let me help, please.¡±

    Athena had only offered a kind smile as she refused her plea yet again. Medusa had confused selfish ¡®concern¡¯ for affection. She was nothing but a well-protected sacrificial lamb.

    Bitterness churned on her inside and she found herself scowling. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Woah!¡± The girl raised both hands all the while maintaining that sly smile. ¡°I was merely curious. I¡¯m Hoxha from West Locratia, by the way.¡±

    So she was from the same kingdom as Eristes the ass. But the Prince had no accent. Was it a province thing?

    Medusa blinked at Hoxha and said nothing. From what she recalled of the pillar race, this was the same person who viciously pulled other contestants down.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Medusa repeated.

    ¡°Fine.¡± She settled next to Medusa as if they were friends. ¡°That explosive attack. I noticed aether was still in the needle when it made contact. That should be impossible. Tell me how you did it,¡± she demanded.

    Taken aback, Medusa frowned. ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t give away the secret behind your skill.¡±

    Hoxha¡¯s mood visibly soured as she glared at the person behind Medusa. ¡°You should mind your business, Arcas.¡±

    Instead of replying, Arcas faced Medusa. He was blonde-haired with a serious air about him. If he were older, she could easily picture him as some stoic general. He offered a slight bow. ¡°Greetings, May. I am Arcas, third prince of the Eastern Locratian kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Now you have the boldness to speak because Eristes is gone?¡± There was spite in Hoxha¡¯s voice, and Medusa wanted to get away fast.

    To be polite, Medusa mirrored Arcas¡¯ bow. ¡°Thanks for the advice.¡± Even though she didn¡¯t need it. Explaining what she did with the needle would be useless to Hoxha anyway. Clotho hinted that manipulating air was not something awakened blood carriers could achieve.

    Judging from the tense atmosphere, Medusa put two and two together. The Western Locratian kingdom was more prosperous and influential than their neighbour. But that had not always been the case. Before the last war of the continent two hundred years ago, East Locratia was beyond prosperous, even reaching the point of an empire. But war broke out and destabilized the established power structure. To say both kingdoms hated each other was an understatement.

    Medusa stood, ready to bolt. ¡°If you would both excuse me¡­¡± her words faded when she noticed Nestor enter the hall. He spoke to Vaso in a low voice as both instructors looked in her direction. Vaso motioned for her to come over.

    Heart sinking, Medusa groaned on her inside. What now? And it was worse because everyone in the hall had turned curious gazes in her direction.

    Do not be so weary. This is a good thing, Clotho said in the same instant Medusa felt her link return.

    What¡¯s this about?

    Remember you have a backer now.

    And?

    Getting a backer improves the kind of training you receive in Drys Valon.

    Oh. Do others know who my backer is?

    Not the students. The instructors know, though.

    As she stopped before Vaso, she noticed he looked at her with different eyes. There was a certain sharpness to it.

    But do I need this type of attention? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s wise.

    To catch a fish, we need a bait.

    Hey! What does that mean? Am I the bait? Medusa asked in a panic.

    Where is that fire I saw on the cliff? Clotho asked in a low but serious voice. You said you wished to kill gods and now that my sister has taken a step, we must be even faster, if not¡­

    If not what?

    ¡°Come with me,¡± Nestor said as he led her out of the hall.

    My sister is death. Clotho¡¯s voice was grave, the most serious Medusa had ever heard it. The being who stands at the end of every life. Whatever compassion she possessed thousands of years ago has been crushed¡ªsmashed to nothing by the callousness of the greedy.

    Medusa didn''t need to be told just how dangerous Clotho''s sister was. That singular encounter was enough to drive the point home. The dark energy that poured off the snipper she wielded, her rage and cold determination when she moved for the kill. Her power had felt different, like an unavoidable natural disaster¡ªsomething that can''t be cursed at when it falls upon a person because it was simply nature doing its thing.

    I see.

    No, you do not see. What she plans¡­ Clotho''s voice died down. Then she released a heavy sigh. There is someone we must find before she does and to do that you must be more than ready.

    And if I fail?

    She will find you next, kill you and destroy your soul. Her rage¡­ it''s worse than I thought.

    Soon they came upon an annexe. Unlike the three-story and above structures in Drys Valon, this one was a bungalow structured with the same building style bearing pillars in front. The door opened to a wide hall with tall windows and two doors, though one gave her the same feeling as the one at Phorcydes¡¯ house. Perhaps a portal door.

    ¡°The red god was particular about some things,¡± Nestor said as he walked her to one of the doors. It opened to a lab similar to what she saw in Clotho¡¯s domain, and the walls were covered with ceiling-high shelving holding scrolls, vials, slabs and a wealth of things she did not recognise. Too stunned to speak, Medusa mutely took it all in.

    Isn¡¯t this a bit much?

    Ares never does things in halves.

    Wouldn¡¯t people talk?

    Yes, let them. That is what we want. You keep forgetting you are wearing a different face. They can''t link you to Medusa, the daughter of Phorcys. Be bold, even arrogant. The more of that, the better.

    Why?

    So Athena will act. She has an odd obsession with Ares.

    Oh. Cold seeped into her bones. Yes, her rage at the goddess remained but if one were to look at it factually, Athena was in the same league as Ares¡ªridiculously strong.

    How can I possibly face such a monster in my current state?

    Clotho laughed and it sounded genuine. Medusa relaxed a little, finding that the Moirai¡¯s tense mood had rubbed off on her. You are not facing her anytime soon. Don¡¯t worry, that child is too cautious to act carelessly.

    When Nestor led her out of the lab, he nodded at the other door with the strange energy. ¡°The portal door is not yet complete; even so, only the red god can open and close it.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Nestor paused and looked at her. There was confusion in his eyes and it seemed like he was about to say something before he changed his mind. ¡°Did you see the details of your Physical class in the scroll?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Two hours daily either before breakfast or dinner. They had assigned her to a gymnasiarch called Rea.

    ¡°You will be training under me, instead. The red god provided a regimen.¡± Seeming to lose the battle against his curiosity, he asked, ¡°How did you do it?¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡±

    ¡°How did you get the red god to choose you?¡±

    Medusa shrugged. ¡°My performance at the trial must have impressed him.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± Surprisingly, her answer seemed to satisfy him. ¡°Atalanta told me you are awakened. From my understanding, it happened when you faced the bear.¡±

    Medusa nodded.

    ¡°Demeter was correct,¡± Nestor shook his head wistfully. ¡°I only wish she were around to witness you. She would have been boundlessly entertained.¡±

    ¡°Thank you?¡±

    ¡°Be proud of these achievements," Nestor said. "Though only the instructors know you are backed by the red gods, using this annexe will show the students that you already have a backer, and a strong one at that. Telling them who your backer is is up to you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    ¡°Take this.¡± He passed her a wooden plaque with no markings. ¡°The pass for the door. And I¡¯d advise you not to spend too much horai here; attend as many classes as you can manage. That will be all.¡±

    Medusa blankly stared after Nestor, watching until he shut the door behind him. "How?"

    Head to the research room, Clotho said impatiently. The bees you caught, there is something we can use them for.

    Medusa paused, an eerie feeling racing up her spine. ¡°C-can you read my mind?¡± Only a moment ago, she had been thinking about the bees and how to use them.

    No, Clotho answered in an exasperated voice. When I told you I saw glimpses of the future, did you think I was lying?

    Oh. Another question came to mind, one that threatened the control she had over her suppressed emotions. So, when will I kill Perseus?

    Clotho remained silent, saying nothing even after Medusa entered the lab.

    Are you not allowed to speak of it?

    Not allowed by who? Clotho chuffed, that familiar lightness returning to her voice. It is foolish to tell you exactly what I see in the future; hints are all I can spare. Know this, your paths will cross sooner than you expect.

    Flashes of Perseus casually shooting Antonii returned. The cold dismissiveness with which he ended the lives of those he deemed as lesser. Her heart rate doubled from fury and fear. She was still terrified of him, but that shouldn''t matter. Even terrified cornered beasts attack with ferocity. My fear will be my weapon.

    I need you to focus, Medusa. That seriousness was back in Clotho¡¯s voice, signalling the start of another lesson. Today, we''ll be creating weapons.

 30. Petrifying Blood

    The room was a mess. On the work surface, shelves, and floor lay dead bees. Medusa massaged the back of her neck and groaned. This would be a chore to clean.

    Contrary to Nestor''s advice, she had spent hours in the annexe. Under Clotho¡¯s iron supervision, she laboured over ten writing needles, carefully etching runic markings before dipping them in venom. Backbreaking work but she would take that a thousand times over the method she used to get the bees¡¯ venom. Even now, the bitter taste lingered on her tongue. Ugh.

    Did I have to eat the queen? Medusa asked, her stomach churning as the unpleasant memory returned. She had eaten bugs in her second life but never a live one packed with aether. I can still taste it.

    Clotho laughed for the first time in hours. You eat honey but can¡¯t eat what makes honey.

    What sort of wacky logic is that?

    It was alive! It¡­ it wiggled in my mouth, Medusa replied hotly. If she hadn¡¯t eaten the queen in her dimension she would have died instantly. The venom had paralysed her mouth and throat, and she was already choking on saliva before the symptoms began to fade. A disgusting, terrifying experience she would never ever repeat.

    Eating it dead would have lessened the effect, Clotho replied, laughter still in her voice.

    Medusa''s focus shifted from the needles to a beaker holding thinned blood. Eating the queen led to the death of its colony and a permanent change in her blood. From stone gaze to petrifying blood. At least, I chose this, not some curse forced on me.

    Yet your curse remains, replied rationality. You can¡¯t escape this fate. You¡¯re already a beast.

    No, I¡¯m not. Right now she had normal hands and feet, real hair. Completely human. The gorgon was in a past that never happened.

    Curses follow the soul, not the body. The voice argued. If it never happened, why are you here? Why pursue revenge? Denial is stupid.

    Biting the inside of her lower lip, Medusa opened her eyes and bleakly stared at the needles. This kind of thinking. Arguing with herself. Expecting the worst. Remembering the past. She thought it had lessened when she returned to Cosmolith.

    Cracks formed across the walls she set up, and a memory escaped.

    ¡°Ruined child. It grieves me to send you away.¡±

    The snakes did not react when Athena brushed away a tear that slipped past the soaked blindfold.

    ¡°If I could cancel the curse, I would have. But your purity is gone.¡±

    Medusa focused on the sound of the lapping waves and the smell of the ocean¡ªanything to keep her mind blank. Around her neck was an iron band with a long chain connected to a sea vessel.

    Even if she miraculously gained the ability to speak past the beastly screeches, she would have no words. This bone-deep feeling of self-disgust, like maggots burrowing in her marrows. What he did to her. All the people she had murdered.

    Medusa.

    She flinched, snatched back to the present at the sound of Clotho''s voice.

    What is it? Something was wrong just now. Speak.

    I¡­ it¡¯s nothing. Medusa rubbed her eyes as her heart hammered against her chest. The nightmares may come tonight.

    A glance at the water clock showed four hours had passed. It would soon be time for her training with Nestor, but her eyes were bleary from peering through the magnifying lens and etching rune after rune. Is there an antivenom?

    Clotho remained silent for a moment as if protesting Medusa¡¯s unwillingness to share her thoughts. No time for that. You can use your dimension, no?

    Medusa shook her head. I prefer an antivenom. Please, tell me how to make one.

    She rubbed her eyes harder when she noticed the wetness. Stupid tears.

    Fine. Clotho released an exasperated sigh. I should be able to find something on antidotes and antivenom.

    I''m grateful. Feeling slightly relieved, Medusa reached for a broom with a shaky hand. If she hurried, she should be done cleaning before Physicals. But a question lingered in her mind.

    This¡­ this curse. You saw what it¡¯s like¡ªwhat it did to my body. Medusa was dying to know but at the same time, she was scared.

    Yes, I did. Clotho¡¯s voice softened. Glimpses, that is.

    Medusa leaned on the broom with her chin propped on the back of her hands. Her heart raced with the hope of getting some answers. My aunt said there are cursed and blessed gods, that my dad is cursed but my mum is blessed. But¡­ Medusa frowned. I have never heard of any deity possessing transformed bodies like my sisters and me. The eye of petrification. Was that a double curse? Did Athena add the curse?

    And it was extremely rare for deities to bear children; yet her parents bore four, if she were counting the son her aunt mentioned, within eighty years of marriage.

    First, know that Athena is incapable of cursing a deity.

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    But I¡¯m not a deity.

    You are a child of two deities. I know you loathe deities but you must accept the reality that you share certain traits with them. That you keep reincarnating should be telling enough.

    Medusa¡¯s brow bunched. It was a hard pill to swallow, a possibility she fiercely rejected all through her lives. I hate the sound of that.

    Try to let go of your biases, Clotho said. I can never say I understand what you went through, but my ability exposes me to human emotions. When you¡¯ve experienced the vast amount I have and seen the intentions behind decisions, you''ll understand things are grey, never black or white.

    Medusa clamped her jaw shut, refusing to speak.

    The toll of living for so long has done terrible things to deities, but they are not all monsters.

    It would be foolish to deny Clotho¡¯s logic. Medusa had experienced her parents, Phorcydes and Demeter. Even Ares did not possess the same malevolent presence Athena and Poseidon had. There were other deities she encountered at Athena¡¯s temple, nasty lots that only held back because she was the daughter of a deity. But even that was not enough to shield her at the end.

    ¡°I did vile things too,¡± Medusa mumbled. How was she just seeing this now? ¡°I¡¯m also a monster.¡±

    That is not true, Clotho said emphatically. You are not a monster.

    No, Medusa shook her head. You only say that because you didn¡¯t see it all. You don¡¯t know the extent. Her grip tightened around the broom as her vision blurred. ¡°I killed¡­¡± her throat closed up. This was the first time she was openly speaking of it. ¡°I killed hundreds, Clotho,¡± she whispered in a shaky voice. This guilt she carried for years and years. The ugliness that followed behind her, as faithful as a shadow.

    ¡°Sometimes I dream.¡± She sniffed and swiped an arm across her eyes. ¡°Sometimes I get these nightmares. I am carrying this¡­ this mountain of rotting corpses. They are not stone. Their eyes are always open. They¡¯re fused to my back and shoulders, crushing me.¡±

    Clotho was silent.

    The brutality of my second life. I took it as punishment but that death did not feel enough. I wasn¡¯t punished enough.

    They tampered with your curse, Medusa. Clotho¡¯s voice was low. You are not a killer. This view of punishment is based on Athena¡¯s rancid teachings and twisted idea of justice.

    A dead laugh escaped before Medusa could stop it. Forgive me, Moirai, but I think you are wrong. She wiped her tears and began sweeping. I deliberately killed those who came to my cave. At a point, I craved their visit.

    You were alone.

    ¡°YOU DO NOT KNOW EVERYTHING!¡±

    You were alone, Clotho continued as if she hadn¡¯t heard Medusa¡¯s outburst. You were alone in a cave for years. It is normal to desire some form of human interaction. That it became twisted is the grey I spoke of.

    Medusa fell silent as she continued sweeping. She gave up trying to rebuild the walls that kept her memories at bay; now they poured out, pelting her for attention and burning her mind. Clotho would never understand. There was no way such a being would understand the toll on her soul. Life after life trying to atone. When nothing worked, she chose denial and agreed to be loved. What had that led to?

    What am I doing, Clotho? All her rage¡­ why did it feel like all her rage was draining? What am I doing here? I must have been deluded, thinking of revenge and killing gods.

    ¡°I should¡­ I should take Rico and flee.¡± Yes. That made better sense. Her double could take on her life and head to the temple. She would find an obscure village and quietly live out her days. A smile touched her lips. Antonii would prefer that a thousand times over avenging his death.

    And how would you get Rico? Clotho asked. The duplicate I made can¡¯t live beyond five years. Going with your plan will circle back to your aunt and father, and there will be consequences.

    Groaning, Medusa facepalmed. ¡°I¡¯m such a lucky person.¡±

    Silence reigned until Medusa finished cleaning the room.

    Do you mean it? Clotho asked.

    Mean what?

    Killing deities. Are you no longer interested?

    Medusa thought about it for a moment. I¡­ wish to protect myself. I¡¯m not naive enough to believe they would leave me be, and I suspect Athena would find me if I attempted to flee.

    That is correct.

    If they come for me, I will kill them.

    A bold claim, but she was without choice. For the first time since returning to Cosmolith, she imagined a different life. Rico, Phorcys, Ceto, her sisters and her aunt all together as a family. Such lovely impossible dreams.

    And Perseus?

    ¡°He tortured my husband,¡± Medusa spat. ¡°Decapitated me and¡­ and.¡± Rage, bitter on her tongue, would not let her complete the sentence. Just how deep was his hatred that he sought her out in another world? To him, she was nothing but a beast existing to be slain.

    Do not tell me this is one of those grey areas.

    I stand by my belief that there are no black and white, but I would never ask you to consider forgiveness.

    There was something unspoken in the air and even if the Moirai didn¡¯t say it, Medusa heard it loud and clear.

    The current Perseus, wherever he is, isn¡¯t responsible for your pain.

    I don¡¯t care! Antonii died. Days ago, he died. And I¡­

    Rubbing the spot above her throbbing heart, Medusa struggled to calm her breaths but raw emotions wouldn''t let her. The urge to hide and weep for days was almost unbearable.

    I¡­ I will not seek him out. But if he appears before me, I do not know if I can control myself.

    Clotho hummed her acknowledgement. So will you still help me free my sister?

    Yes. Medusa didn''t need to think twice about that. It was impossible to imagine how she would have managed without Clotho.

    Good. Then I will continue to do my best to guide you. A beat of silence. There is something else you should know.

    Medusa groaned on her inside; she recognised this tone. The Moirai was about to drop something heavy.

    Your father.

    Her instinct had been correct. Something had gone wrong the day she left the villa. She clutched the necklace he gifted her. Is¡ªis he fine?

    No.

    Dread weakened Medusa¡¯s knees. She sank onto a stool. ¡°It¡¯s because of me, isn¡¯t it? What I did with the chant of apparition.¡± Her guilt returned a hundredfold.

    Take it easy with the self-flagellation.

    But I read his letter to my aunt. He said something about someone coming for him.

    Yes, your mistake triggered a punishment but that was a mere slap on the wrist.

    Medusa stood and began pacing. You said he¡¯s not fine. If it¡¯s a slap on the wrist, he should be fine.

    The truth is, Phorcys has not been fine for centuries.

    I don¡¯t understand. Medusa cast her mind to their time on the beach. He had mentioned something about politics, nothing terrible. The day he let her go had felt different though. The way his hands trembled and how he hugged her. That had been real fear in his eyes.

    Phorcys is one of the few high gods under Zeus¡¯ punishment.

    Zeus? Medusa¡¯s head grew light. What sort of dangerous¡­ ¡°Why?¡±

    It¡¯s because of me. Clotho''s voice grew subdued. Your father is being punished because of me.

 31. Before The Door

    Medusa remained in a daze as she trailed after Nestor, her mind reeling from Clotho''s world-shattering revelation.

    Phorcys was once a topmost general until he betrayed Zeus for my sake.

    Then she went on to reveal wilder things that made Medusa¡¯s ears tingle.

    Beyond the seas were other continents and numerous islands, well populated and maintained like a farm. There were no gods like Athena or Zeus, or even the concept of blood carriers, just blissfully ignorant people existing with made up ideas of supreme beings.

    The real purpose of Zeus¡¯ generals is to oversee the continents and islands behind a veil. Wars. Pestilences. Famine. Natural disasters. An overwhelming portion of those occur through careful planning to bring about a potent harvest. The immortality of deities is a farce. Life must be given for more life. That is ambrosia.

    Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. Medusa hugged herself, shivering.

    Questions crowded her mind. How did it work? Once these lives were harvested, how was it distributed among deities? Why didn''t Zeus end her father''s life by withholding ambrosia?

    Clotho had offered to open her eyes to see a vision, but Medusa declined. Her mind still felt fragile from the deluge of memories, and she was not particularly eager to see her father slaughter thousands.

    Nestor led her to a large building with multiple tall doors. There were other students littered about, some chatting as they made their way in.

    Clotho was present but silent, perhaps waiting for questions. Medusa was hardly prepared to ask. Her thoughts were still all over the place, and there was another heavy question hanging between them. If Zeus had Phorcys, wasn''t it wiser to ask for her father''s release if she won the game?

    And it was too dangerous. It didn''t matter that deities¡¯ immortality was false, getting Zeus¡¯ attention was the issue. If her father had suffered for helping Clotho, wouldn''t it be idiotic to demand for Clotho''s sister''s release boldly?

    So many questions and too many memories shouted to be acknowledged. Something was fraying in her mind, almost similar to how she felt when she unintentionally switched languages. Was it the change in her blood that triggered it?

    She would have asked Clotho but she was worried that the Moirai could see past her wavering loyalty. My father or her sister.

    Nestor opened the door and revealed a large empty hall. Across the walls and ground were what resembled sword slashes; there were also numerous footprints etched in the stone ground and shattered practice dummies were strewn about.

    Ahead was a stone basin balanced on a stand. She frowned when she felt it. Dense pulses of aether spread from the spot and washed over her.

    ¡°This is where you would be training for the time being. Come.¡± Nestor headed for the basin, his strides measured and brisk.

    He stopped beside the basin. ¡°For one who came to us as an unawakened blood carrier, you have done well.¡±

    Taken aback by the sudden praise, Medusa went with a polite nod. ¡°Thank you.¡± Even though I''m far from strong enough to face a fully realised blood-carrier.

    He produced a plain rectangular box and revealed a black blindfold.

    A training method she was familiar with. She had used the seeing blindfold to learn her combat and dagger techniques while at the temple.

    ¡°This is from the red god,¡± Nestor said. ¡°It would be expedient to keep that in mind as you go about your training.¡±

    There was the fear that Ares¡¯ training would be far harsher than whatever she went through at the temple''s training, but she had no choice in the matter. The goal was to learn enough to be able to protect herself.

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    Nestor tossed a needle in the basin filled with sparkling water. It was then Medusa noticed a stone sitting at the bottom of the basin. Though the water muted the energy pouring off it, she was convinced it was an aether stone far stronger than the ones she currently possessed.

    ¡°What is the month after the next?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Medusa blinked, tearing her eyes from the water. ¡°The month of the lizard?¡±

    Nestor hummed in affirmation. ¡°There is a trial among the houses at the start of that month.¡± He handed over the blindfold. It was soft to the touch and hummed with aether in her grip. ¡°The trial is in honour of Demeter.¡±

    She understood what Nestor left unsaid. ¡°But the goddess is absent.¡±

    Across Cosmolith, the festival of harvest in Demeter¡¯s name would begin from the first day of the month to the tenth. Though Demeter had no temples, many households set up shrines in her honour, with many even dedicating their babies to her¡ªsome superstition about the children growing up to be strong farmers with blessed hands.

    ¡°She will return to witness the trial.¡± Worry flashed in Nestor''s eyes then vanished almost as fast.

    ¡°Demeter appreciates a good show. If the Dogs perform well, who knows what decision the goddess may make concerning your water cat.¡±

    So she must speed up beating the dogs into shape? Got it. ¡°I will take your advice to heart.¡±

    Nestor reached into the water and retrieved the needle. Knowing the process, Medusa offered her hand.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you die there.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Medusa snatched her hand away before he could prick her finger.

    Gaze flat, Nestor raised a brow. ¡°Did my words shock you?¡±

    Of course! Funny how she suddenly feared death. All it took was that single encounter with Clotho''s murderous sister and a fierce sense of survival was burned into her soul. She hugged her arm to her chest. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it matter if I die?¡±

    ¡°Your body is weak; it is a given that the red god¡¯s training will lead to your death but look at that.¡± He nodded at the basin. ¡°Do you know what that is?¡±

    Medusa looked at the stone again. It was pure white but that was all to it apart from the energy it pulsed out. ¡°An aether stone.¡±

    ¡°Not just any aether stone, that is premium aether stone.¡±

    Stunned, Medusa did a double take. According to rumours, shouldn¡¯t she have lost consciousness by now?

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    ¡°As your understanding of aether broadens, you will understand how it works.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Even if you die a thousand times in there, it would work for your benefit.¡±

    Clotho, what is he saying? I don¡¯t trust him.

    You are concerned you will meet my sister.

    Yes. Yes, I am. Medusa never wanted to repeat that encounter.

    That wouldn¡¯t happen. She can¡¯t access that plane, and neither can I. And the instructor¡¯s words are correct. Her voice grew musing. How did Ares think of this method? Perhaps because he is also cursed?

    Nestor motioned impatiently. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done.¡±

    Gulping, Medusa offered a trembling hand. She had experienced death five times but that did not mean she enjoyed the process, and she suspected the deaths she¡¯d face would be violent.

    ¡°You know how to sever the training?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Medusa muttered in a hollow voice. Her heart was in her throat. I don''t want to die. ¡°Remove the blindfold.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    In her blindfold training at the temple, she had always opened her eyes to an instructor bearing the face of Athena. Training had been gruelling but enjoyable to some extent. But she had heard something different from other priestesses. They spoke of the beasts they encountered and how some sessions even wrecked their bodies, Athena never let her suffer through that. Then she felt a bit special. Oh, naive tender lamb.

    Nestor poked her index finger with the needle. ¡°Do the needful. And remember, try not to sever the training because you¡¯re scared of dying.¡±

    Seems like that would be the toughest part. Clenching her jaw in preparation, Medusa pressed a drop of blood into the water and tied on the blindfold.

    The transition was always unremarkable¡ªlike blinking through a scene change.

    She frowned when she opened her eyes. A similar-sized hall in pristine condition. Ahead was a door without a knob.

    Turning around, she flinched and took quick steps back.

    ¡°R-red god?¡±

    What was that next to him? It resembled a cross between a wolf and a red fox with iron claws and glowing eyes. Though it appeared emaciated with patches of skin exposed here and there, there was a ferocious glint in its eyes, like a dog straining at its leash, mad with the desire to attack.

    ¡°Daughter of Phorcys,¡± Ares¡¯ voice reverberated around the space and his eyes were doing the same yellow glowing thing as the beast beside him, ¡°for your training to begin, release your curse.¡±

    The detached tone of his voice reminded her that Ares wasn¡¯t really present, but his murderous air remained, and it took great effort to appear calm.

    And what was that he said?

    Medusa frowned. ¡°But my curse is dangerous. Why should I release it?¡±

    ¡°Your curse is behind that door,¡± he said, ignoring her question. ¡°Open it and go in.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not listening to me,¡± Medusa said, frustrated. ¡°Did the Moirai not tell you? My curse is¡­ different.¡±

    ¡°This is my curse.¡± Ares placed his hand on the wolf''s head. ¡°The first time I met him, he was taller than this roof.¡±

    Medusa gawked at the snarling lanky beast. ¡°No way,¡± she muttered in English

    ¡°What you are likely to face beyond that door may be similar. Not necessarily a canine but a beast all the same.¡±

    ¡°A beast? My curse is a beast?¡± What a ridiculous notion.

    ¡°The goal is to subjugate it,¡± Ares continued. ¡°Because you have a weak body, you may die in your attempts but that should play a role in ridding you of the fear of death by its hands.¡±

    ¡°Subjugate it with what?¡± Medusa asked in a panic. ¡°I have no weapons.¡±

    ¡°Your body is your weapon,¡± Ares answered. ¡°I provided a premium stone, the best grade in all of Cosmolith. Even if it takes a thousand deaths, you must learn to use your body to protect yourself and control your curse.¡±

    Ares was different from Clotho in how he trained Medusa. If Clotho was serious and prone to praise when she got a concept right, he was cold and grumpy. And how could he speak of dying multiple times so casually?

    ¡°Right now, your mind is a mess.¡± He tapped his temple.

    ¡°How¡­ how did you know that?¡± A chill washed over her body.

    ¡°I''m like you, remember? Curses have similar symptoms. Though I had mine ages ago, it is impossible to forget. Ignoring it can lead to madness.¡± He paused and peered at her with glowing eyes. ¡°Have you ever seen a mad god?¡±

    Medusa shook her head, unable to use words.

    ¡°It''s a disaster. If your mind breaks, it would be worse for you because of your mortal traits.¡±

    ¡°You''re not joking?¡± Medusa whispered.

    ¡°Why should I?¡± He shifted his focus to the door. ¡°The Moirai said you work well with time.¡± As he scratched the back of the wolf''s ear, it leaned into his touch but maintained its glare. ¡°A tenth of a horia should be enough to open the door.¡±

    Dread twisted her belly. ¡°And if¡­ if I fail to open it in time.¡±

    ¡°I will release him.¡± The wolf snarled as if it understood Ares¡¯ horrifying words. ¡°This process will be repeated until you pass.¡±

    What sort of insane¡­

    ¡°Please.¡± Medusa pressed her hands together. She had to make him understand that her case was different. Her curse was not a beast; it was something else. ¡°My curse is different. It changes my body.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± He peered at her with those eerie eyes. ¡°I could tell your curse was dormant from the moment I first sensed your presence. How would you know how it manifests?¡±

    ¡°You do not understand!¡± She clamped her jaw shut. What was she doing trying to explain things to an extension of Ares¡¯ consciousness?

    ¡°Your time has already begun.¡±

    ¡°M-my sisters,¡± Medusa said desperately. Perhaps, if she could convince him. There had to be another way to get stronger aside from using her curse. ¡°You must know of my sisters. They have the appearance of gorgons.¡±

    He shrugged, expression infinitely bored. ¡°Blame Athena for that.¡±

    Medusa blinked at him. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The Moirai praised your intelligence, but you seem foolish.¡± A frown darkened his expression. ¡°The stone will keep your real body from dying, yet you hesitate?¡± There was irritation and impatience in his voice

    ¡°I¡­¡± Just how could she make a being that has never tasted death understand her fear?

    Lacking words to defend herself, Medusa drew in a resolute breath and approached the door.

    Her eyes had not deceived her. The door truly had no knob or handle. She sensed nothing from it like she did with portal doors. If Ares¡¯ words were true and her curse was a beast¡­

    What if it''s a ten-foot-tall gorgon?

    It would be catastrophic if a gorgon was waiting at the other side of the door. The winged beasts were incapable of speech, and though they possessed some humanoid traits, they had no humanity. Beast through and through. At least they wouldn''t have the eye of petrification.

    Please don''t be a gorgon. Please don''t be a gorgon.

    With a trembling hand, Medusa pressed against the door, channelling aether into its frame to see if that would work. To her surprise, it flowed in at an alarming speed.

    Thud. Then a scraping sound.

    Flinching, Medusa snatched her hand back. Something¡­ something was beyond the door.

    The wolf growled, its claws scraping across the stone ground signalling its approach. What now? Was her time up?

    Medusa dared a backward glance and instantly regretted it. The wolf stood with its legs braced apart, the skin of its snout wrinkling as it bared menacing fangs. It seemed poised to strike, and to make matters worse, her disoriented mind struggled to grasp how much time had slipped by.

    Turning back to the door, Medusa struggled to calm her breath as sweat dripped down her back and her pulse beat heavily in her throat. Tentatively extending a hand, she touched the door again and resumed pouring in aether. Medusa only noticed it when she felt how warm the door had gotten. She couldn''t pull away.

    The surface around her hand rippled like water before pulling in her fingertips.

    ¡°No. COME ON!¡± Grabbing her arm and digging her heels, Medusa fought against the pull but it was useless. Aether drained through her and poured into the door even faster than before.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Medusa swore when the door sucked in half her arm. What was this? Wasn¡¯t the instruction to open the door? Why wasn¡¯t Ares saying anything?

    Like a nightmare unfolding before her eyes, a dozen hands pushed through the rippling door. They grabbed her by the shoulders, arms, legs, and hair, dragging her beyond the door.

    ¡°Help!¡± She strained her neck, struggling to catch a glimpse of the red god.

    Ares merely shrugged. ¡°And your time is up.¡±

    The wolf leapt at her, fangs bared, eyes wild and claws shining.

    No way she would let herself be torn apart. Instead of fighting the grasping hands, she ceased her struggle, letting the door pull her into the unknown.

 32. Beyond The Door

    It was similar to what Medusa felt when she waded through the gates of Tartarus; the only difference was the thicker darkness and the sensation of being dragged down by hands clutching her ankles.

    When her feet settled on a solid surface, the thickness in the air vanished and the hands slinked away. She ran her hands over her face and arms, grounding herself with the knowledge that her limbs were intact and she felt no pain. Still fine. Not dead yet.

    Crack.

    She braced herself in readiness for an attack. There was a distant sound of clunks and clatters, like stones tumbling off a rocky surface.

    ¡°At last,¡± said a voice that sounded exactly like hers.

    Danger blared in Medusa¡¯s head. If only she could see.

    A chuckle. ¡°You think it would be better if you could see?¡±

    Instead of answering, Medusa stood straighter and noticed for the first time that she couldn¡¯t feel aether at all¡ªjust air, and there was the sinking feeling that she may be unable to manipulate even that in this plane.

    ¡°You know?¡± The voice turned sweet. ¡°I¡¯m not your enemy.¡±

    Since Medusa had never heard of a speaking beast, there was the possibility that her curse wasn¡¯t a beast like Ares assumed. Still, it would be foolish to let her guard down. Whatever lurked in the darkness could see her and probably knew her thoughts. A tough, if not impossible opponent.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so guarded.¡± The voice sounded utterly relaxed, even friendly. ¡°I am you and you are me. Please, let your guard down.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s heart sank when her suspicion was confirmed. This entity could indeed read her mind. ¡°Perhaps¡­ perhaps showing yourself may help me let my guard down.¡±

    Instead of complying, the being chuckled again. ¡°I did not expect it to feel this good.¡±

    There was a scraping sound like a large body dragging over a rough surface. Medusa gulped and tensed up.

    ¡°Remember when he died?¡±

    ¡°Who died?¡± Medusa could swear there was a presence to her left.

    ¡°Wise, kind Antonii. Our husband.¡± The words were whispered into her left ear.

    Hand flying to the spot, she whirled around. Widening her eyes, she strained her sight, desperate for the barest glimpse of light.

    ¡°Remember how you lost it when he died?¡± The voice pressed on, and to Medusa¡¯s surprise, there was sadness in her voice.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t remember.¡± Her expression slackened when she realised she recalled nothing after Antonii died. She had assumed she died immediately, but it made little sense. The first time she experienced decapitation, her consciousness remained for a full day before death finally came.

    ¡°Of course, you do not remember.¡±

    There was the sudden sensation of something enormous looming over her. A harsh shiver racked her body. She looked up into the darkness, feeling completely exposed.

    Light laughter. ¡°You place too much faith in that memory of yours. How about thinking again about the night they made us a widow?¡±

    ¡°Us?¡± Medusa bristled. ¡°There is no us. What are you?¡±

    ¡°But I told you I am you. Though our connection was severed in our first life, I was still present¡­ seeing everything. Mum from our second life was the worst. Calling us ugly cat. Pfft. Did she ever look at her reflection? I was her spitting image. The nerve of that shrew, speaking of ugly things when her insides were rotten. Those superstitious savages. To do that to me¡­¡±

    As the voice railed on, Medusa recognised something alarming. The words the voice said were thoughts and feelings she had suppressed in her second life.

    ¡°And you, you just let them do that to us. Justifying the unfairness as some sort of¡­ of punishment. Spineless.¡± The rage her words bellied cooked the air around Medusa, stinging her skin.

    ¡°Please, stop talking.¡± That the voice sounded like hers but gave off a different personality was unsettling.

    ¡°You despise Athena but her doctrine is burned into your very soul. Oh, I¡¯ve waited¡ªlonged for this day.¡±

    Another scraping sound and what sounded like the swish of a garment.

    ¡°We took our revenge, you know?¡± Her voice grew quiet. ¡°We killed them.¡±

    Medusa creaked her neck in the direction of the voice. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Now I have your attention?¡± There was glee in the voice.

    It had to be a lie. The only time she ever sought revenge was in this life. Her other lives had been filled with penance, toiling to appease some unseen god. Dying for absolution.

    ¡°That!¡± The voice grew acidic with rage. ¡°That pitiful mewling for forgiveness. Oh, am I glad you paid a visit. I¡¯ll pound some sense into that soft heart¡ªturn it to stone.¡±

    Medusa¡¯s sight returned when light suddenly flooded her vision. Ahead was a version of herself, perhaps twenty or older, but much much taller. She laid on her side, her curves like hills and valleys, jaw braced on a closed fist and expression annoyed as she twirled a needle between long fingers. Even more curious was the soft green light her body emitted, along with the glowing threads that extended from her back and fused to the massive rock behind her.

    ¡°I¡¯m ashamed you¡¯re a part of me.¡± She pointed with the needle, her frown squeezing her brow. ¡°So dependent on penance was your mind that you attempted to erase that delicious memory.¡±

    Stuck between awe and confusion, Medusa mumbled, ¡°Erase?¡±

    ¡°You killed them all. Perseus and his purse men.¡± Glee returned to her voice and her eyes sparkled with delight. ¡°Turned them into little piles of nothing.¡±

    Medusa raked through her memory but drew blanks. ¡°If such a thing happened, I would have remembered. I want Perseus dead. I wanted him dead with all my heart¡±

    ¡°And that burning desire broke my chains and allowed me to breathe at last. The Moirai saw it too.¡± She snickered as a small proud smile curved her lips. ¡°Don¡¯t believe me? Ask her.¡±

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    ¡°I...I killed Perseus,¡± Medusa muttered in disbelief. ¡°Impossible. How?¡±

    ¡°Turned him to dust with a touch. Haha.¡±

    ¡°No. If I did that I would have remembered. I would have¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re pathetic.¡± The needle threw off light as she pointed with it. ¡°Weak body. Weak mind. Weak¡­ everything.¡± Cold seeped into her voice. ¡°These weaknesses, we shall cut them all away. Piece by ugly little piece until we find your spine.¡±

    The curse sat up, braced a hand on her knee and pushed to her feet. As she moved, her gown swished, sending a gust of wind Medusa¡¯s way.

    Craning her neck didn''t seem enough. How? Just how could something be this tall?

    ¡°The red god said you should tame me until I become a humble little beast.¡± A chuckle, soft and deadly, danced from Medusa¡¯s left ear to the right. ¡°But he is not us. You were correct when you told him we¡¯re different.¡±

    Medusa remained silent, caught in a daze of incredulity and horror. Surely, Ares must be mad to suggest she could defeat that.

    ¡°No, he isn¡¯t mad. That he turned his curse to what you saw shows the insane level of his will¡ªsomething you should copy.¡± The curse flicked a lock of long curls off her shoulder as she spoke. ¡°Our curse is different and soon you will learn why.¡±

    She stared down at Medusa. ¡°But keep this in mind. I will never shrink to your position. Instead...¡± Her eyes lit up with a green mischievous light as she smiled. ¡°You must rise above me before I submit. And even if it means dying a million times, we¡¯ll swim through that mud.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Utterly dumbfounded, words abandoned Medusa.

    ¡°You have nothing to say? Fine.¡± The curse moved the needle between her index and middle finger. ¡°Block this.¡±

    She flicked her fingers and the needle shot for Medusa exactly like her attack on Eriste. Seeing death speeding her way, her body betrayed her. It froze and the needle hit its mark.

    A flash of blinding light was all Medusa recalled before springing awake, hands held before her face and mouth open mid-scream.

    Did¡­did I just die? The hairs on her arms stood on end. Her death had been so instant that she felt nothing.

    Medusa looked ahead and flinched. The curse was present, but this time she sat with her legs folded monk-style and hands braced behind her.

    ¡°Hmmm, this wouldn¡¯t work.¡± There was a contemplative note in her voice. ¡°You¡¯re way too easy to kill¡ªa mere breath to the gods.¡±

    Sitting up, she reached for one of the threads attached to her back and yanked it off.

    ¡°How about we make this fun?¡± She asked as she let go of the thread. It moved on its own, like a floating headless snake.

    Medusa didn¡¯t know which was more terrifying, the approaching thread or the suggestion of making things fun.

    Body taut with the urge to flee, she took a step back. She could rip off the blindfold. No. She had gained nothing so far. The plan was to use every opportunity to get stronger. Gritting her teeth, she stood straighter and waited.

    The glowing thread stopped before her face and moved no further.

    ¡°Do you recall Cuauhua? The one with the scar across his throat?¡±

    Taken aback by the sudden question, Medusa had to quieten her scattered memories to remember. ¡°He¡­ he was a friend.¡± Until duty took over the reins.

    The curse clapped her hands and cocked her head. There was an impish grin on her face. ¡°I kinda miss him. How about we go back to that day?¡±

    Stunned, Medusa gapped at the curse. ¡°Why would you¡ª¡±

    The thread shot forward and latched onto her forehead.

    A blast of frigid wind snapped at Medusa¡¯s tunic and stung her face. Raising an arm to shield her eyes, she blinked and came upon a scene.

    No way did that insane curse bring her to this day. No way. But denial wasn¡¯t strong enough to erase the fact that she was on her knees with hands tied behind her back. She took a sniff. The smell of the forest and coming rain. It felt real¡ªtoo real.

    ¡°Don''t be mad.¡± The voice returned. ¡°This is good training. If we repeat this often enough, we may find a bit of that spine we spoke of.¡±

    ¡°And it had to be this¡­¡± Medusa drew in shaky breaths through her mouth as her heart thundered. ¡°It had to be this day?¡±

    ¡°Yes. This will strengthen your mind and body. This day is the best day ever!¡± There was sarcasm there and her voice was high with false happiness. If the curse was really a part of Medusa, there was no way they would feel comfortable here.

    Fear, bitter and raw, spread across the back of Medusa¡¯s tongue. She resisted the urge to look behind and failed. The templo mayor stood tall in the distance, the place of her second taste of death.

    Medusa looked beyond the small charred corpse ahead, over her weeping mother, past the line of warriors and into the fringes of the forest. She could sense the curse just beyond, watching.

    Someone was speaking behind her. That language¡ªNahuatl but more primitive. She recognised the voice as well. Her mother was giving her up. She spoke rapidly, spewing every incident that proved Medusa was indeed bad luck sent by the Filth Eater.

    Medusa¡¯s focus drifted back to the corpse. Her name was Xochi, the youngest daughter of one of the neighbours. The seven-year-old had followed Medusa like a shadow after each hunt, asking questions, endlessly chatting and being cutely in awe of Medusa being the only female hunter in six villages.

    Pure Xochi didn''t deserve the death she got but that was life. Sometimes thunder strikes trees and sometimes, in a twist of unbelievable cruelty, it strikes a child. But her opinion was insignificant and their superstitions were as firm as the mountains.

    Now her mother was weeping about how Medusa was born on the day Tlaloc, the rain god, unleashed a tornado that wiped out a quarter of the empire. The priest was saying something about how Medusa¡¯s evil luck had caused the child¡¯s death and how an immediate cleansing was necessary.

    Her mother hummed and hawed in agreement amidst sniffles.

    Teeth clenched, Medusa wished she could curse that blasted curse for making her relive this day.

    There were four warriors present, one of which was Cuauhua. Previously, she hadn¡¯t dared to meet his eyes for fear that she would see cold judgment in them. The feeling was the same even now.

    ¡°How sentimental.¡± The bushes rustled as a small figure stepped out. Since those around did not react, it meant Medusa was the only one seeing her curse. This time she appeared as a much younger version of herself in her second life. Her birthmark was stark against sun-kissed skin like a red map spreading from her left temple, over an eye and down her jaw before stopping at her clavicle.

    ¡°I¡¯m eager to see how you will act this time.¡± The curse strolled over and stopped beside the charred corpse, staring down in sadness. ¡°You could plead like you did the first time,¡± she glanced at Medusa from the corner of her eyes, ¡°or run. You are quite good at that, right?¡±

    In the background, she caught more of her mother''s words. How Medusa had the marking of the Filth Eater and how she preferred to dwell in the bushes like beasts. It stung, even after so many years, it still stung.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it take a beast to birth a beast?¡± Her curse chuffed then turned away with an enraged look on her face. ¡°You have sensed no aether so far, right?¡±

    Medusa remained silent.

    ¡°Here is the fun part. Across the forest, the villages, even along the road to the templo mayor are aether spots.¡± Her voice grew lively, like the rage Medusa just witnessed had been some illusion. ¡°You can obediently allow them to take you to that altar, or do the needful.¡±

    It started drizzling, tiny pelt after pelt darkening the loamy ground. Her wrist was raw from the rope digging into her skin and her knees ached from kneeling since the priest''s arrival. Xochi¡¯s mother kept wailing dirges in the background and weeping.

    I didn¡¯t do that. I didn¡¯t kill your daughter. It just happened. I¡¯m not some harbinger of misfortune.

    ¡°If you choose to run, they will chase you.¡±

    The wind kicked up. Medusa shifted on her knees.

    ¡°When they chase you, they will try to kill you¡ªyes, even our dear Cuauhua.¡±

    Medusa clenched her fists, as her eyes drifted to the four warriors. Two wielded spears, the third carried a club, and Cuauhua had a quiver and bow.

    ¡°You said you wish to defend your life, to hold your ground before gods.¡± The curse clicked her tongue and shook her head. ¡°But without experience against powerful opponents, those are empty words backed by mere emotions.¡±

    The curse¡¯s bare feet left no print on the ground as she strolled over. When she stopped in front of Medusa, her hand rose as if to touch her shoulder, only to fall back to her side.

    ¡°Do the needful. I will be waiting at the templo mayor.¡± With those words, she vanished.

 33. To Die Twice

    Medusa discretely observed the four warriors. They were massive, each standing at least six feet tall with multiple fearsome battle scars.

    She had never witnessed them in actual combat, only ceremonial rituals where weapons clashed with no intent to kill. Cuauhua was different, though. As a fellow archer, she was very much aware of his skill. His accuracy was inhuman, and, just like her, he knew the forest.

    I must run. I have to run.

    Heart racing, she took measured breaths in preparation and stole another glance at the warriors. Cuauhua didn¡¯t have an arrow nocked, and the rest stood at ease. She was smaller and lighter than them, so outspeeding should be possible. And the best time to flee was now. If the rain fell harder, visibility would be ruined.

    Sucking in a breath, Medusa shot to her feet and zig-zagged for the forest. The wind and thin sheets of rain battered her face as she kept her upper body lowered and pushed forward with gritted teeth.

    It felt off. She had grown used to manipulating aether to boost her movement, and now her current speed felt pathetic. Soon the sound of pounding footfalls reached her ears. What sort of diabolical reaction speed¡­?

    Biting back a frustrated cry, she veered down a hidden trail only she used. Though it was difficult weaving past trees, leaping over rotting logs and taking welts to the face from low-hanging branches, she pressed on.

    Her foot slid over an exposed root and she stumbled forward, narrowly escaping crashing head-first to the ground.

    Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

    Running through the forest with hands tied was a stupid move. And her speed heavily reduced the deeper she went. More stumbling. The muddy ground sucked at her cactli-clad feet with each step and her wrists were on fire.

    She wasn''t sure if it was the terror of getting caught or reality, but she could still hear the pounding footsteps.

    They''re going to catch me. They''ll rip my heart out. I''m going to die.

    Soon, it no longer mattered how well she knew the forest, running became impossible. When her trail ended, her sense of direction faded the farther she went.

    Hiding was another option, but Cuauhua may easily find her. They had explored these forests when they were younger. Even now, he may be watching from a perfect vantage point, preparing to shoot her down.

    And what was that her curse said about aether spots? So far, she had sensed nothing.

    Thwack!

    Medusa¡¯s heart liquefied when an arrow pierced the tree next to her head.

    He¡¯s here!

    Her suspicion had been correct; Cuauhua was on her tail. Any moment now, an arrow may pierce her skull. Panic ballooned and pulverised what remained of her sense of direction.

    Moving on instinct, she swerved off her path and took a sharp right. She took a second turn to her left, weaving past trees and pressing forward to where? Nothing seemed familiar anymore and the fitness she possessed in her former lives was absent. Her pants were loud in her ears and it felt like every breath charred the inside of her lungs. At this rate, she''d die of exhaustion before they get her.

    Where''s the damn aether spot?

    She leapt away in alarm when something slithered past her leg. A snake?

    In that moment of fright and confusion, it happened.

    A sudden tearing pain.

    First, Medusa was hurled forward from the force of the hit. Her shoulder struck a tree as white-hot pain flared outward from a spot just below her left rib cage.

    Hissing, tears misted her vision as a sudden wave of dizziness came. Something weighed her down, and when she looked, she blinked in a stupor.

    Ah... they got me.

    Blood dripped from the obsidian tip of the spear and splattered on dead leaves and earth. Leaning heavily against the tree, she slid down its rough back with a drawn-out groan.

    Blinking hard to dispel the dizziness, she bleakly looked around. Still no aether spot. Had the curse lied? It didn''t seem like it.

    It no longer drizzled. No sound of birds; they must have fled. There was the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. Stray drops of rain hit her face as she sat there exposed.

    I''m surrounded.

    The first to emerge was one of the two spear-wielding warriors. He must have been the one who shot her down.

    ¡°Why did you run? Now look.¡± He sounded mildly annoyed and barely out of breath. These bloody machines.

    Medusa looked at his face. There was not a glimpse of mercy or hate in his black eyes. Cold detachment... yeah, that was it. A warrior merely attending to a tedious duty.

    Would Cuauhua have the same look?

    Another groan escaped as her pain intensified. Blood bubbled up her throat and nose, spilling out.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± This light-headedness.

    Should I rip off the blindfold? But my arms are tied. More thoughts filtered in and out, some detached and others urgent. What''s a blindfold? Aether spots! I''m tired. How am I here?

    Another warrior appeared, his club held ready and face tight with rage. He began spilling curses as he pointed at Medusa with his weapon, asking the first warrior why she hadn''t been shot down earlier.

    Biting cold racked Medusa¡¯s body. Since escaping was futile, waiting for death was the next logical move. She marvelled at how trusting she had become, to believe so easily that if she died here it wasn¡¯t the end. She would have patted herself on the back if her hands were free.

    Eyes rolling, she gazed at the canopy of high leafy branches above. I should have done this the first time. This death is blissful compared to the other option.

    The third warrior casually strolled in with his spear resting behind his neck and arms hooked over it like a scarecrow.

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    He said something about Cuauhua Medusa didn''t catch.

    More excruciating wheezing breaths. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open. Black was beginning to bleed into her vision.

    She jolted as if awakened from a short slumber. The men were still arguing, and Cuauhua was nowhere in sight. Odd.

    It was then Medusa noticed it, a green shine from the corner of her eyes. Dragging her attention to the left, she blinked repeatedly as she struggled to focus. At least twenty meters ahead was an aether spot. At the centre of a perfect circle of green light, which faded as it rose, hovered a transparent aether stone, just inches above the ground.

    Laughter slipped past her lips, triggering a racking wet cough. The perfect luck to find it when her immobile body was already showing signs of slipping into shock. She wanted to yell at the men to be done with their argument and do the needful. If she were to die now, she could attempt tracing her steps. Though she didn¡¯t know the number of aether spots scattered across¡ª

    An arrow whistled past her ear and stabbed the foot of the first warrior. Another followed after, piercing his forehead and bursting out the back. He fell with a crash, neck twisting at an odd angle and dead eyes staring straight at Medusa.

    Huh?

    One of the warriors yelled a warning but it came too late. The warrior wielding a club was the next to fall, an enraged cry dying on his lips as an arrow shot straight through his temples.

    Medusa took in the scene in a haze of disbelief.

    Cuauhua. This was his doing. The shots were too clean.

    The last warrior, eyes wide and expression twisted in a sneer, yelled something about a mute bastard before flinging his spear towards the trees ahead. Cuauhua¡¯s arrows were faster. One pierced his throat mid-throw and the second stabbed his heart.

    The smell of blood mixed with the foliage and worsened Medusa¡¯s nausea.

    Why would Cuauhua do this? Now that she thought of it, this was what her curse expected her to do. Coldly kill them before they kill her.

    The sound of a thud and then approaching footsteps reached her ears. Medusa remained where she sat, resisting the urge to turn and look. He wouldn¡¯t kill her, right? That time his arrow hit the tree next to her head, he would have killed her but didn''t.

    He hunkered before her and took in her wound with an expert gaze. Not a hint of emotion, nothing to show why he did what he did or that he was sad she was dying.

    ¡°Why?¡± Even though it was a chore to speak, Medusa was dying to know.

    Between his teeth were leaves possessing a blood clotting effect. He chewed on them as he went about cutting her binds.

    "Say something, dammit,¡± she choked out.

    They had been close before he turned fifteen and joined the ranks of warriors. That he coolly killed his three comrades to save an old friend on the brink of death made zero sense.

    Not that she expected him to give an eloquent reply. The wound he sustained in battle four years ago made speaking a struggle. Her gaze fell on the jagged, poorly healed scar across his throat, and she scowled.

    She didn''t need this. Getting to the aether spot was all that mattered.

    Spitting the green paste onto his hand, he attempted to apply it to her wound but she slapped his hand away.

    ¡°Tell me why.¡± Medusa huffed past bloody lips.

    ¡°Be¡­behave.¡± The word came out scratchy and stilted. He offered her the leather sling of his quiver and motioned for her to bite down.

    Too exhausted to resist, she did as he said and nearly died from boiling agony as he broke the ends of the spear and applied the paste.

    "You¡­¡± More panting. ¡°You should let me die." As much as a part of her felt some relief that someone in this life cared enough to risk it all for her sake, she couldn''t look past the foolishness of his actions.

    "You will be branded a traitor." He was the son of a high chief, his sister, who loathed Medusa, was one of the favoured wives of the emperor, and despite his speech impediment, he was an eagle¡ªan elite level in the empire¡¯s warrior ranks. "Go. Please, go. I''m already dead."

    Silence.

    ¡°Lo¡­¡± He cleared his throat and tried again. ¡°Look at¡­ me.¡±

    Frowning at the odd request, Medusa did as he asked.

    He looked exactly as she remembered him. As a top warrior, he wore his hair long, a handsome face and tattoos showcasing his battle victories. But his eyes, though¡­ for the briefest moment his stoical veil slipped. Like a window opening and quickly closing, she glimpsed his soul.

    Glimpsing his soul was the only explanation Medusa could give the experience¡ªlike seeing a person''s true appearance; and what she saw chilled her to her bones.

    Had the blood loss stolen her sanity? "You¡­who are you?"

    He frowned, appearing puzzled by her question.

    What she was thinking had to be a lie¡ªsome wicked trick. Never before had she been more confused yet certain of a thing. But she needed to hear him say it. ¡°Tell me.¡±

    Her dizziness was worsening.

    His puzzled look shifted to worry. He reached for her but she tried to turn away. Her body would not obey her command to move, and the clotting paste wasn¡¯t helping, if anything she felt bloated. She was swelling with her blood.

    This time when he reached for her, she was incapable of resisting. As her body sped to death, every attempt to speak was ignored. She stubbornly clutched the question burning in her mind as her ability to remain awake slipped away.

    Her sense of hearing faded. Someone carried her, but even that feeling faded too. Though her eyes were open, her vision blurred and darkness soon replaced light.

    Medusa blinked her eyes open.

    On her knees again. The dead child ahead. Her mother¡¯s voice behind. So this was the million deaths the curse spoke of. But there was something else on her mind, a question she had tenaciously held on to as death took her.

    Eyes snapping up, she met Cuauhua¡¯s flat gaze. Leaping forward, she threw her weight into the bodyslam and sent them both crashing to the ground.

    ¡°It¡¯s you!¡± She couldn¡¯t explain why she was shouting or the stupid tears. ¡°It¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it.¡± Her voice cracked with desperate hope. ¡°Antonii?¡±

    Someone snatched her by the back of the neck. She kicked and screamed as she held on to that glimpse she saw.

    My eyes did not deceive me. I know what I saw.

    They slammed her to the ground, the side of her face flaring with hot pain and blood flooding her mouth, but she did not care. She called for Antonii even as he remained on his back, looking at her with confusion. The hand holding her down slipped and she grabbed the opportunity.

    Twisting around, she sank her teeth in, biting hard and tugging until her gums hurt. Whoever held her down snatched their hand away with a shout and kicked her. The pain barely registered.

    Leaping to her feet again, she rushed to his side, unable to speak past the weeping.

    I saw¡­ I know what I saw. Please. When she drew closer, he flinched away and stood up. Though there wasn¡¯t judgment in his eyes, he looked at her like one watching a friend take leave of their senses.

    ¡°It¡¯s me. May. Remember?¡± When she sensed someone approaching from behind, she whipped around. ¡°STAY AWAY FROM ME!¡±

    Her mind was unravelling. This panic and bitter hope. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe what she saw¡ªNO.

    She turned to face him, tears blurring her sight as she begged him to remember. Remember what? I¡¯m the insane person here. Yet she hoped.

    ¡°No need to take her to the templo mayor.¡±  It was the priest who spoke. ¡°It seems Filth Eater has devoured her senses.¡±

    Medusa glanced behind. Her mother looked at her with the same old shame, but now it was mixed with shock and disgust.

    ¡°I¡­¡± She turned to Cuauhua, her plea dying on her lips.

    This was a mistake. She should have kept her suspicion to herself. After all, what she saw may have been a lie. This was training, a space created by Ares and her curse. Perhaps, her hidden desire found a way to manifest.

    ¡°Kill her,¡± the priest said. The command didn¡¯t sting as much as how quickly Cuauhua nocked his arrow in obedience.

    Unable to look, she shut her eyes and waited and waited. Why wasn¡¯t he shooting? She opened her eyes only to see his widen in alarm. He took a step forward and froze.

    The same explosive pain as the time the spear pierced her. Whoever stabbed her stumped between her shoulder blades and harshly dislodged their weapon.

    Falling forward, Medusa watched the earth drink her blood. But amidst the flooding pain, she couldn¡¯t stop thinking about that hesitation when he should have shot her down.

    Maybe¡­

    Blinking bleary eyes, Medusa made up her mind. Since hysteria didn¡¯t work, logic was the next option. When she opens her eyes in the next loop, she''d focus on the aether spots, finish this accursed task and get answers from her curse.

    You¡¯re being delusional.

    I know what I saw. Medusa crushed the voice of descent as hope birthed crazed determination. She¡¯d do anything at this point¡ªanything to chase this possibility.

 34. Aether Spot

    The curse was right. Suffering through loops of death and survival was doing something to Medusa¡¯s mind, sharpening it in a way that couldn¡¯t be reversed.

    As she peeled into the forest for the sixty-seventh time, her heart didn¡¯t race in fear. Her rage toward her killers cooled to calm resolve around her twenty-fourth death, and her disgust at her weakness faded when she realised that running wasn¡¯t the only way out of this madness.

    Thin sheets of rain hit her face as she followed the trail, counting in her head as she went. Hoping that this time¡­

    No. She gave her head a fierce shake. Not hope. This time, she must make it to the aether spot. And she had been so close before her last death, but that last spearman just wouldn''t die.

    It no longer mattered that Cuauhua¡¯s arrows never struck her through her loops. Cold rationality had since frozen sentiments, and now she was focused on how well she could manipulate his sentiment for her benefit.

    Unlike her earlier runs where she madly dashed for the forest, her movements were now coordinated. Measured breaths through her mouth. Eyes open and core locked. Lighter and quicker steps.

    Still, it was insanely difficult. Going too slowly had killed her more than she cared to count, and moving too fast had messed with her sense of direction too soon.

    Every step mattered. Turning at a slightly wrong angle could ruin an entire loop. The root she had stumbled over must not be missed. Cuauhua¡¯s arrow that nearly got her, and the snake that slithered past. Everything had to be timed perfectly for things to go as planned.

    Laboured breaths sawed through her lungs as her sweat mixed with the drizzle, but this was fine. If anything, each run had improved her endurance. Now, her runs were no longer an agonising race for survival, but a lure.

    When Cuauhua¡¯s arrow hit the tree, she increased her speed and took the necessary turns. After the snake slithered past her foot, like clockwork, the spear came for her.

    This terrible moment had accounted for nearly half of her deaths. Sometimes she twisted at a wrong angle, shattering her wrists and losing fingers. Other times, she completely escaped the spear, but her hands remained tied. And no matter how madly she dashed for the aether spot with her hands bound, a club to the face or a spear through the heart had crushed her effort.

    Medusa ducked and raised her tied wrists. All it took was a graze as the weapon sped past and pierced the tree behind with a loud thwack.

    Flicking her wrists and wiggling her numb fingers, Medusa went for the spear and dislodged it. Then she waited for one¡­two¡­three breaths.

    The moment he stepped out of the underbush, she hurled the weapon, well aware of the angle he¡¯d lean into to dodge. And she got him in the heart, just as she had the twelve times before. There was no recoil, no vomiting like the first time she killed him; her mind stayed calm, her focus locked on the flow of what had to come next.

    Hurrying over, she retrieved the spear with both hands and dove into the bushes.

    Five quick steps straight ahead, three slower ones towards the east. Stab forward with all her might. An expected grunt. Another step. In the same breath, she stabbed upwards and shoved harder, ignoring his gurgled curse of surprise. Warm blood splattered against her face as she pulled out her weapon and watched him fall.

    This was necessary. It was either him or her. Besides, the warrior was the meanest of the bunch, always aiming for her face whenever he struck her with his club. Even now, she remembered the pain in stark clarity.

    Using the spear as a walking staff, Medusa continued counting as she staggered out of the bushes. It was at this point that she made her first mistake in her last four loops. The blood. How warm it had felt. She had tried her best to use the counting, but from that point on, each move had been a painful stumble after another painful stumble.

    Sniffing, she swiped an arm across her face and glanced around. At least the birds were no longer silent, and the drizzle had stopped. Cuauhua must have seen what she did to the first warrior. Yet, like always, he didn¡¯t shoot her down.

    I don¡¯t care. I really do not.

    Her final opponent, the last spearman, was a sneaky bastard. Last time it ended in disaster because she skipped a few numbers while counting, but this time there was no room for ifs.

    Gripping the spear tightly, she straightened and looked in the direction of the aether spot. The fierce temptation to dive for the spot clawed at her patience, but she clenched her teeth and waited.

    In previous loops, he strolled out of hiding, not bothering to make a sneak attack like the first spearman. His flat gaze had lingered on her bloody appearance before drifting to the warrior she had killed.

    When he slunk back into the bushes after his calm observation, she had naively thought that was all. It was only after she lay a mere meter from the aether spot, bleeding to death, that she saw his intention. He must have realised Cuauhua couldn¡¯t be trusted and took cover in the bushes, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

    Her speed was a joke compared to the accuracy of his spear throw. And he was vicious with his strikes, each hit instantly destroying her mobility and giving her a painful, slow death.

    Medusa dragged her focus from the aether spot at the sound of rustling bushes. He casually stepped out like he did in the past, took in her state with a slow sweep before shifting his focus to his dead comrade.

    Unlike the past, she dashed at him with a shout, and as expected, he swung his spear. The sharp tip arched through the air with a whoosh, and would have slashed her nose if she hadn¡¯t leaned back at the last moment.

    His composure was yet to crack. ¡°You did this?¡±

    Straightening, Medusa shrugged. ¡°Huitzil must have given me strength.¡±

    His brow twitched at the mention of the god. Warriors revered him even more than their own mothers, venerating the deity as their source of every victory.

    ¡°At first, I pitied you.¡± When he faced her fully, Medusa took an instinctive step back.

    In a game of strength, she was nothing. All that largeness and fiercely trained body would crush her in an instant. What she banked on was her endurance, knowledge of the terrain and the possibility that Cuauhua would help if things got too ugly.

    ¡°But it is as the priest said,¡± his face twisted as he spoke, eyes dark with grief and malice. ¡°You''re a bringer of misfortune.¡±

    ¡°Do not look at me with such hate.¡± Medusa took another backward step as her grip tightened around the spear. ¡°I merely defended myself. If Huitzil judged I was guilty, he would have given them my life instead.¡±

    His expression first slackened, then turned thunderous. The veins in his arms bulged from how hard he was gripping his weapon. ¡°Do not speak of Huitzil so lightly.¡±

    Now that he was in the open and clearly emotional, Medusa hurled the spear at him.  Not bothering to check if her strike hit its mark, she adopted the same zigzag pattern she used at the beginning of her run.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The aether spot was clear ahead. Because she was faster and smaller, she used the terrain to her advantage, ducking and weaving past trees on light, quick feet.

    Even when she heard the thwack of his spear as it hit a nearby tree, her coordination remained unshaken. This time. Maybe this time, she''d make it.

    The sound of his footfalls, heavy and foreboding, trashed after her. Grunting, Medusa leapt over a fallen log, fell into a hard roll, then sprang back up and gunned ahead.

    The hovering aether stone, now about seven meters away, promised release from this madness.

    One step, two more. A dive after, and she¡¯d be able to¡ª

    The first arrow pierced her right thigh.

    She staggered, disbelief shattering her focus. When another arrow pierced her second thigh, she swallowed a yell and fell to her knees.

    The heavy thud of a person leaping down a tree. Footsteps followed after, and soon Cuauhua strolled past her.

    ¡°Why did you not kill her earlier?¡± Her pursuer shouted as he marched forward.

    ¡°We¡­are to¡­ capture,¡± Cuauhua answered in that halting voice.

    ¡°You fool! You watched her kill them but did nothing!¡±

    ¡°Killed by¡­ non-warrior. Weak.¡±

    Ignoring them, Medusa gritted her teeth and crawled ahead. This was nothing. What she thought she saw in Cuauhua¡¯s eyes was nothing but the pitiful desires of a grieving mind.

    To distract herself from the pain, she began counting. She was close now, the glow from the aether spot nearly touching the skin of her hand.

    Please, just let me reach it¡­ please.

    She was suddenly snatched by the hair and twisted around. The warrior sneered at her, eyes black with rage. ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    Wincing from the pain of his vice grip, Medusa spat at his face and exposed her teeth. All the better to look insane if she wanted him to make this quick. ¡°May Tzitzimimeh eat their souls.¡± She made sure to inject spite into each word.

    After wiping his face, he turned as if to walk away, only to strike her with a vicious backhand. Stars dotted her vision as hot pain blossomed across her right cheek.

    ¡°You killed my brothers.¡± He gripped her neck and easily lifted her off the ground. ¡°May Huitzil strike me dead if I don''t kill you.¡±

    Medusa gripped his wrists and kicked her feet as she struggled for breath. His face appeared even fiercer, and his eyes were red with vitriolic rage. Ah, her Tzitzimimeh comment had gotten to him. She¡¯d have cackled if she could breathe.

    He must have seen it in her eyes¡ªthe fact that she was not sorry.

    ¡°Die.¡± Air whooshed around Medusa¡¯s ears as he sent her downwards, slamming her to the earth with enough force to snap her spine.

    But instead of pain, it was like getting dipped in a vast ocean of pure life. Aether rushed through every pore, nullifying her fatigue and healing her wounds in a blink.

    He had slammed her into the aether spot. Such delicious luck. She grinned, ecstatic enough to offer him a hug.

    ¡°What are the bloody odds, no?¡± Holding his wrist, she met his confused eyes and whispered, ¡°Breathing.¡±

    The effect was leagues away from what she felt at the arena. Instead of time slowing down and the feeling fading soon after, the effect remained steady. Multiple layers of densely packed aether buzzed around her, waiting to be used. And there was something else. The spot she touched on his wrist solidified to stone and crumbled to dust.

    He stumbled away, holding his handless arm before his face, eyes wide with disbelief.

    Usually, she¡¯d have been bursting with questions, but her mind remained at ease, accepting what happened as normal.

    Fluidly rising to her feet, Medusa''s gaze slid to Cuauhua. This time his arrow was nocked, and he released it when their eyes met.

    Sighing at the futility, Medusa zapped forward and caught the arrow just as it left the bow.

    ¡°Do not waste them.¡± As she slid the arrow back into its quiver, she held his gaze, searching for what she saw in her first death. Any hint would do at this point.

    There was nothing but confusion and¡­ fear.

    Disappointed, she dropped her gaze and morosely gave his bow and quiver a pointed look. ¡°Hand them over¡­ please.¡±

    She had no desire to fight him or anyone else. What mattered was finding the next aether spot.

    Medusa heard it then. Approaching footfalls. Turning around, she calmly watched the warrior come for her yet again. Murder burned in his eyes as he raised a giant fist and leapt forward.

    That look in his eyes, though. Medusa frowned as she reduced her eyes to slits. She could almost swear she had seen something similar recently.

    The memory struck like thunder, blasting through her mind and upending the earth beneath her feet.

    She was back at the farmhouse. Everything was still. Shards of glass. Splintered wood. Drops of blood. And Perseus. He was frozen in place, a hateful sneer on his face as he aimed that accursed sword.

    She watched her body, which now possessed the same glowing form as her curse, reach out and touch Perseus. He crumbled to dust.

    Medusa swung around when someone touched her shoulder, her hand acting before her brain.

    Blinking, she returned to the present only to come upon a strange sight. The spearman lay unconscious at her feet, his arm a shattered, pulpy mess. And Cuauhua. How had she gotten her hand around his throat, and why were their gaze locked? His eyes¡­it always started with the eyes. He was turning to stone.

    A strangled cry of horror escaped Medusa¡¯s throat. She snatched her hand away and ripped off the blindfold, flinging it aside like it burned. Staggering away from the stone basin, she whipped around and winced when she came face to face with Nestor.

    Tearing her gaze away, she panted as she held her trembling hands before her face, checking for scaly skin and sharp fingernails. Her flesh was normal and her nails trimmed. Heart still thundering in her chest, she gulped as waves upon waves of relief washed over her.

    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Medusa looked up and met Nestor¡¯s eyes.

    He pointed at her nose. ¡°You can wash it at the basin.¡±

    Medusa eyed the basin with misgiving.

    ¡°I retrieved the stone when you removed your blindfold.¡± There was a silent question in the air, something she was very much unwilling to answer.

    ¡°T-thanks.¡±

    Staring at her reflection on the still water, Medusa took in her ashen face and the bright red blood sliding down her nostrils.

    ¡°You spent a bit over a horai in training,¡± Nestor said.

    Splashing cold water against her face seemed to help settle her racing heart. I killed Perseus. She blinked at her hands in a daze. But what was that with Cuauhua?

    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯m seeing a nosebleed during training,¡± Nestor said as he carefully observed her face. Medusa avoided eye contact.

    ¡°It is?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Nestor held his hands at his back and continued to observe her. ¡°I will speak to the red god concerning this. I advise that you abstain from training until I receive feedback from him.¡±

    When Medusa nodded and walked away from the basin, the fatigue came all at once. Much similar to how she felt after she used breathing for the first time.

    ¡°A friend is waiting for you outside.¡±

    A friend? Instead of asking, Medusa nodded mutely. Her eyes were growing heavy. Offering Nestor a tired bow and her thanks, she trudged to the heavy door and pushed it open. It was evening already. It felt like she had not come out in days and days. What a nasty training.

    Outside, Akrivi pushed away from the wall and strolled over when he spotted her. He slung an arm over her shoulder in his usual fashion. ¡°I heard you¡¯re using the best annex.¡± His blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. ¡°Is your backer Plutus or something?¡±

    Releasing a weak chuckle, Medusa shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not Plutus.¡±

    ¡°Come on. Give me a hint. I¡¯m dying to know.¡± They were heading for the dorm since today was one of the two days the dogs handled their own dinner.

    ¡°I do not have permission to say anything yet.¡±

    Akrivi sucked his teeth, managing to look both impressed and sorry for her. ¡°Drys Valon¡¯s boring days are over.¡± He suddenly paused and peered at her face. ¡°You look awful, though. What happened? Did you die in there?¡±

    Medusa released a bark of laughter. If only you knew. ¡°Keep me propped up, will you? The ground keeps feeling closer with each step.¡±

    ¡°So demanding,¡± Akrivi said with a huff before looping her arm over his shoulder to keep her steady.

    They walked in silence for a while, and Medusa noticed she had been subconsciously pulling in aether with each breath. She was clueless as to why her body did that, but it felt as normal as breathing.

    ¡°Akrivi?¡±

    He hummed in response, seeming equally lost in thought.

    ¡°I have a plan for the dogs, and I need your help.¡±

    He released another drawn-out sigh. ¡°It''s been only a day¡ª¡±

    ¡°Two high-grade aether stones.¡±

    Every trace of playfulness evaporated from his face. ¡°Repeat that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you two high-grade aether stones if you help me.¡±

    Akrivi beamed, his eyes shining with earnest anticipation. ¡°Soft hands, what must I do?¡±