A snake-haired beast gazed at the glittering stars from within the ruins of an abandoned temple. Medusa matched her deep breathing to the crashing of the water in the distance. Breathe in with the rising tide. Breathe out with the falling waves. Breathe in with the rising tide. Breathe out with the falling waves. Over and over again, until her troubles washed away, carried by waves into the open sea.
The tide sounded like home.
Medusa spent more time than she'd like to admit at the edge of her shelter before retiring for the evening. A mat of grass and straw, and the sword and shield she'd won from Perseus long ago, were her only bedfellows tonight. Every night, for... gods, how long had it been? Long enough to know better. If Medusa's curse bore one gift, it was the resilience it forced upon her. Or so she told herself.
The sound of scraping metal chilled Medusa to the bone. She quickly rose from her makeshift bed to find a monster in human skin floating around her shelter on winged sandals.
"Medusa..." her old pursuer sang.
Medusa had no words for this creature. After all the depths Perseus had sunk to in the aim of collecting her head, he was beyond words. Medusa took her-- his-- sword and shield, and prepared herself for Perseus's assault.
Perseus charged straight for Medusa, giving her no time to breathe, but the gorgon was ready. The two knew each others' fighting styles well after years of pursuit. Perseus sought to overwhelm his prey with sheer power and speed. His sword and shield, polished to a shine, as well as the mirrored mask over his face-- seemingly new gifts from the gods who abhorred the beast they cursed into being-- kept him safe from Medusa's stone gaze and free to attack with the reckless abandon of a hero who only sought glory.
Medusa, more concerned with survival than victory, kept her movements small and precise to keep her attacker at bay. She constantly searched for an opening to weave through him and escape. But Perseus, never the fool, would not allow his prey to evade him so easily. The clashing of iron and gold accelerated with the pounding of Medusa's heart. Any wrong move would be fatal. In her desperation to stay alive, Medusa was pushed further and further back. She told herself, she just had to wear him out. She could do this. She's escaped him every time.
Flames burst across the hall of the ruins. The night sky and salty beach outside had vanished, replaced with a flaming portal and the distinct smell of ash. Medusa was the first to react, diving for cover as two figures emerged from the portal. The gorgon strained to hear the distant shouting from behind stacked pillars, the receding footsteps, the scraping metal. Knowing her luck, these two were here for her. To fight Perseus alone was something she had done many times before, but three on one? It was impossible.
Medusa clasped her heart and forced herself to calm down. Breathe in with the rising tide. Nothing was impossible. Breathe out with the falling waves. Let the gods throw everything they had at her. She would be ready for it.
A strange cracking noise made Medusa flinch. She peeked out from behind her cover. The figures who emerged from the portal were both women, wearing robes the likes of which Medusa had never seen. Behind them, a book floated through the air, sprouting dark energy and scanning the temple with its huge red eye. These were witches. The worst possible creatures to have come for her head, as vile as Neptune himself.
Medusa's sole reprieve was that these witches seemed to have turned on Perseus, and they were now fighting each other. Whatever bounty or glory had sent these heroes her way, they must each have sought to claim it for themself, and their greed would have them tear each other apart. The violent spells and piercing slashes still blocked the exit of the ruins, but they were all distracted, and the beast knew her shelter well. She slipped through the labyrinth of rubble, dodging stray spells and weaving around the pools of blood splattered on the ground. When Medusa reached the entrance of the temple, she found the witches standing over the trembling, groaning body of Perseus. He was barely clinging to life, his mirrors reduced to crimson shards, his sword sticking through his arm and into the ground.
Good riddance.
While the witches finished off Medusa's old pursuer, she made a break for freedom. She had been without a place to stay too many times to be caught lacking an exit strategy. From the rumors she'd eavesdropped on in recent hunts, the kingdom of Colchis had been decapitated, its entire royal family dead or missing. If the capital was as chaotic as the nymphs made it out to be, she could head there and find a place among the monsters and outlaws that would soon overrun the fallen castle. The journey would take a few days, maybe a week if she took her time.
Medusa would never make it that far. Before the sun even rose, the wicked witches found her. Streams of dark magic wrapped around Medusa's arms and body, locking her in place. The snakes in her hair thrashed wildly. She braced for death.
It did not come. The witches approached her from behind, calling Medusa's name in raspy, exhausted breaths before stopping just out of arm's reach. "Medusa, relax! We just want to talk."
A million questions raced in Medusa's mind, but she knew better than to show her fear. Witches like them would pounce at the first sign of weakness. "Go on."
"My name is Circe," the one with a deeper voice began, "This is Helena, my partner."
"The oracles told us that Perseus was hunting you for riches. We came here to stop him," Helena continued.
Medusa could hardly stop herself from laughing. "You came to save me, the beast scorned by all the gods? Out of the goodness of your hearts? How naive do you think I am?"
"We saved you because we need your help, Medusa. The ones who call themselves heroes are just as much our enemies as yours." Medusa couldn't see Circe from this angle, but she could tell by the sound of her voice that there was fury beneath the surface of her words. "They tore my home apart. I lost everyone. I travel time and space in search of the greatest witches in the world, so we may take revenge on those who would have us all dead."
"You would consider me one of you?" No, Medusa was not a witch. Witches were foul, as was the magic they used to poison the earth and the minds of men. The magic of a goddess turned her into this awful creature. Witches revealed her location to Perseus again and again, never granting her a moment of peace from a man she had done nothing to offend. Witches were more monstrous than any beast, no matter what the gods would have their followers believe. "The answer is no. You and your magic disgust me."
The witches let out a deep sigh. Medusa flinched as one of them slathered a thick, sticky liquid over a large gash in her tail-- and realized she could move. She looked around to find most of the wounds she had incurred in her struggle against Perseus were covered in fresh bandages. Her snakes had calmed, and they seemed to be curiously examining the witches now. "Magic is just not the force of evil that tormented you, Medusa." Helena waved her fan. The potion covering Medusa's wounds turned pitch black. "It saved your life today, remember that." For a second, the beast's injuries stung like never before, but then it waned, and she felt much better. Almost invigorated.
Surely, these eccentric witches were not serious... No. Something about this was wrong. "You're luring me into a trap. I know it." Why else would anyone give her the time of day, let alone pretend they saw her as an equal to them?
Circe grasped Medusa's shoulders like she wanted to shake her. Even though the witches' eyes were covered in blindfolds, Medusa saw the frustration on their faces. "Medusa, the men know where you sleep. They will send more hunters after you. They will not stop until they have your head." Circe shoved Medusa to the ground and opened an ashen portal in front of them. "You may run, and keep running for the rest of your life, or you may come with us and stand a chance at regaining your humanity. The choice is yours."
Impossible. Powerful as they seemed, no witch could undo the curse of a goddess.
...Could they? Nothing was impossible. If Medusa ran as she always had, she knew she would spend the rest of her life wandering the wastelands as this... thing. Wondering what could have been. Regretting having given up her chance at a normal life. She swallowed her awful feeling of apprehension, pushed aside the realization that she didn't fully know what she was signing up for. It didn't matter. Medusa knew the witches were using her, and she was using them. No price was too great for the snake-haired beast to pay, for even a chance of restoring her true form.
Chapter 4/30
