It was an average spring morning. The sun had barely risen on the horizon when the young priestess had already made her bed and taken care of the dirty laundry. Then after a meager breakfast (dry bread and water), she scrubbed the floors and dusted off the altar. Like every morning she polished the statue of Athena with extra care to the point where visitors might see their own face reflected in her image.
With the basic chores taken care of the priestess was left with little to do other than recite her prayers and mend some of the villagers’ clothes. They brought them to her regularly, but in return they provided her the food she needed to survive. Rarely did anyone come to pray or get advice these days. The people believed Athena would listen only to those who made the long journey to Athens.
Her duties as a priestess were rather understated and frankly she felt suffocated in this spacious temple. The villagers were polite and reverent, but that simply meant she couldn’t talk to them like a normal woman. If she got too bored she sometimes took a long walk around the village and rested by the river, but that was the most she would risk after she had been carried out of the forest by very worried hunters that thought she would get herself hurt.
There was also that weekly letter for the head priestess in Lamia, but she was struggling to come up with contents for the reports. Dankana had been so peaceful and quiet lately that she wondered whether they had been under Hypnos’ influence. It would have made for a pretty good prank.
The priestess sighed and listened to the low tweeting of birds outside the window. She wasn’t allowed to keep the nest in the attic. Mother had taught her that they would dirty the entire temple in mere days. At least the scrubbing would have had a purpose then…
What was the point of being a priestess if she didn’t do anything? She had more work as a seamstress at this point. She had started to stitch cute designs into the hems, but it didn’t seem to bother or delight the villagers. They had no eye for such things. As a matter of fact they didn’t care about anything beyond the next harvest and gossiping about the ‘city folk’. It made them sound like such country bumpkins.
She was wetting a feather in her mouth to finally give in to the pressure of writing the letter, when she was surprised by a firm knock on the main door. Someone was visiting the temple!
The priestess hastily put the feather away and rolled up the parchment before rushing to the main hall. She was extremely curious who it could have been. Her ears told her that the person on the other side was light on their feet. It couldn’t have been one of the farmers then, for they were generally heavy and broadly built. Perhaps the miller’s apprentice?
She brushed her hair back in a futile attempt to tame it and then pushed out her chest before opening the door.
“Good morning.” A young man’s voice greeted her warmly.
Her eyes opened wide and she felt her heart skip a beat. That voice. She knew it well!
“It’s been two long years. A pleasure to meet you again, Eugenia.”
----------------------------------------
“Welcome back, Eugenia.” Typhos said with a delighted smile.
“Typhos.” She muttered, her senses still dulled. Her head was pounding as if she had a bad migraine. She clutched the cold clothes against her body and barely stood straight on her bare feet. Yet she had to be strong. She had to confront him. “What… happened?”
“You will have to be more specific.” He said with a wry smile and then mustered her shivering body. “But first we need to dress you in something warm and dry. You must be freezing terribly.” With that he opened a chest and pulled out a towel as well as a long dress.
From the rustling she could tell that it was thicker than the average chiton, but the material seemed to be high class. When he held it out to her, she hesitated to take it. She didn’t want to rely on his graces right now. Something in her inherently rejected that idea.
But she could also not bear the feeling of the sticky old rags against her body much longer. She timidly grabbed the dress and felt the soft material with her fingertips.
“Oh, do not say anything. I shan’t watch a pure woman of the faith undress. My mentor taught me better than that.” He said politely and deliberately turned his back to her. He was finding some entertainment in the pattern of the tent wall.
Still hesitant she wiped the cold water from her body and then dressed herself. The clothes fit her like a glove. It was honestly unnerving how well he knew her body shape.
“It is white by the way. That color suits you best, wouldn’t you say?” He said lightheartedly and then turned back. He must have heard her finish up.
“I don’t know.” She replied curtly. Colors meant nothing to her, unless she sewed something for someone else.
“Well now, sit down. Rest a little.” He offered her one of the chairs and then sat down across her. There was a large, flat-topped chest between them serving as a table. He tapped the wood lightly and stayed quiet. Was it her turn to speak now?
“Typhos, what are you doing? I just don’t understand anything anymore.” She said with a lowered head.
“Mhm, I figured that would be the case. Today has been rather turbulent. Have you eaten anything yet?”
“What? N-No, I don’t think so.” She was tripped up again by his topic change.
“Just as I feared. We cannot let you collapse here due to malnourishment.” He tenderly picked up two baskets and set them onto the table. Then he handed her a water skin, which she greedily drank from. Compared to the cave water she had not hesitated at all. “Tell me, which do you prefer, olives or nuts? I remember asking you something similar long ago, but things may have changed.” He pointed at the baskets.
“I never thought about it.” She replied sluggishly. What did it matter? She was taught to reply honestly and seriously to questions, so she considered it for a moment. “Nuts, I suppose.”
“Not the olives this time? How curious, considering your goddess’ history.” He smirked and then picked up one of each basket. He proceeded to switch them around repeatedly and then held them behind his back. A pointless effort towards a blind woman, but he seemed to have some childlike fun with it. “Left hand or right hand?”
“Left.” She said with furrowed brows.
“Unfortunately for you.” He opened his left hand and revealed the small green fruit. “You chose wrong.” He spun the olive around and hummed. “Just like this, you have made a few problematic choices recently, would you not say? Is it fate or perhaps a conscious effort to-?”
“I also like olives.” Eugenia interrupted him bluntly.
“Ah. Yes, uhm…” Typhos lost track of his speech and seemed a bit confused for a moment.
“Can I eat now?”
“Yes, go ahead.” He forced a smile.
“…I can’t stuff myself when everything is going so wrong.” She said and pushed the baskets away. Typhos watched her actions with a blank expression. “Where is Lady Medusa?”
With the patience of a saint and hard earned experience, the scholar readjusted his prepared speech and just changed tracks. He folded his hands and rested his chin on them while leaning forward.
“Last I heard, the Gorgon was roughing up Markos’ men in the temple. I advised him against that location, but he seemed determined, so who am I to deny him a valorous death?” He explained neutrally.
“You lied to me.” She suddenly accused him with a saddened expression.
“How so?” He asked calmly.
“Back in Lamia. When you asked me to come with you on this journey, you said that Lady Medusa was a menace, that she needed to be stopped.” She gritted her teeth painfully. “You said that she attacked people at coastal towns and hunted children! You said that she defiled temples and killed priestesses!” All those painful words returned to her, but they were utterly incongruent with what she had actually found on this faraway island. The monster he spoke off never existed.
“It was not a lie.” He said and before she could object he continued. “Those were the rumors going around the cities. Fearful folk, simple folk, they always seek a scapegoat.” He said derisively.
“Then you knew?” She asked with barely suppressed ire. “You knew that it was all false? Made up?”
“Many stories were nonsensical.” Typhos picked up an olive and flicked it into his mouth. “But not all the tales were wrong.”
“Lady Medusa cannot even leave this island! She never attacked anyone, she only protected herself. These expeditions, they are cruel… they are… evil.” She clutched her hands against her legs until they turned white.
“Eugenia, there is one thing that you cannot deny, even if you wish to avert your eyes from it.” The scholar said seriously. “The Gorgon is Athena’s enemy.”
The priestess sucked in the air painfully.
“Not all the tales are true, but one thing that you will find even the Gorgon does not deny is her hatred for the gods.” He reminded her of what he had said this morning during the negotiations. “Your choice should be clear, priestess of Athena. You cannot abide by this blasphemy.”
His words cut deeply. Perhaps too deep. Eugenia felt faint. She had to lean on the chest to carry herself.
“Do you truly refuse to eat anything? If you collapse now, all your struggles will be meaningless.” He said with slight worry.
“Do you have bread?” She asked reluctantly.
“Only the cheap rye stuff for the sailors.” He raised a brow, but then handed it to her.
“Perfect.” She whispered and bit into the dry and hard goods. It tasted like a distant part of her past.
After she finished her quick meal, she felt much better already. The tiredness was catching up with her, for falling unconscious was not the same as sleep. The warmth of the clothes and tent seemed to make her dizzy.
This was no time for weakness, though.
“Lady Medusa hates the gods, that much is true.” She admitted. “But there is more to her than that! I have felt it while I stayed with her. She is not evil. If we try, we may be able to reconcile her and Lady Athena-”
“I am sorry.” The scholar raised his hand. She stopped in confusion. “I have not taken these many weary days across the ocean to engage in childish make-believe games with you.”
“What?”
“How do you propose to convince a goddess if you cannot even convince yourself?” He asked sharply.
Eugenia’s heart sank. The moment he had spoken her deepest fear aloud she felt like she had lost something precious. Her mouth opened in denial, but words would not come. The polite and quiet scholar had broken her long kept determination already.
“I am aware of your predicament. It is never easy to pick sides.” He added more empathetically. “Yet in this world of ours there are times where we have to choose between two evils.”
“That’s not right. If nobody is at fault, why do I need to choose?!” She resisted with a childish tantrum. “You know she is not evil, why do you want her to die so badly? If we just left her alone there would be no reason to choose anything! You said all these things about her being a monster, how we need to eradicate her evil, but you don’t actually believe that, do you?”
“Haha.” He chuckled. “Quite right. That was all an act for those brave men and Athena.” He admitted.
“Why then?” She almost begged him to explain it to her. To finally reach out a hand to the lost girl inside a dark forest of doubt.
“If I said it was for revenge, would you believe me?” He asked with sharper eyes.
“Revenge? You are doing all of this for revenge?” She could hardly fathom it.
“Yes. Such a base desire, is it not? Revenge, vengeance, retribution. We scholars think ourselves above such things, but there is nothing further from the truth.” He put a hand to his face and chuckled self-derisively.
In just that moment someone knocked on the tent entrance. Eugenia jerked back in surprise. So invested in the conversation had she been, that she could not hear their steps. Typhos told them to come on in and with some effort the three men walked in backwards. The reason was the rather large statue they were dragging along with them.
The scholar rose from his seat and then instructed them to put the statue into the center of the tent. Afterwards he sent them away, to leave them alone once again. Eugenia listened to his irregular steps as he circled the statue. She dared not speak up as the atmosphere had changed severely. Somehow Typhos seemed to be a different person.
“I had them search this entire forsaken island for you.” He whispered towards the statue. “I started to doubt you were here at all.” He touched the petrified man’s outstretched hand. It was probably once wrapped around a spear, but now there was no trace of it left. “I feel sorry for you, Eugenia. You cannot even see this heroic expression, this unrelenting posture of a true warrior.” His words were somewhat numb.
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Then the young man knelt down in front of the statue and kissed the warrior’s hand.
“King Heroides of Bisanthe, may you finally find peace in the afterlife. Your long battle will soon be over. There is no need to watch over us any longer.” His back was arched so deeply that he almost seemed to prostrate himself before the statue.
Eugenia could have sworn that for a single heartbeat she had heard a sob. But Typhos moved about as controlled as ever. Without hesitation he grabbed one of the hammers lying neatly piled up at the edge of the tent.
“Wait Typhos-!” She called out, but it was too late. With a heavy swing the scholar smashed the statue’s head to pieces. Then he hammered it again and again until it was toppled over and flung across the floor.
Heavy breathing filled the air and the low ‘thunk’ of a hammer hitting the ground ended the violent act.
Covered in sweat from the exertion, Typhos sank to his knees and caught his breath. The action had not been too wild, but even so little effort seemed to exhaust the frail scholar greatly. When he regained his senses he felt the priestess’ hands on his back. He could not face her right now.
“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly.
“To free a noble soul.” He replied.
After a few minutes they returned to their seats, but it was not like before. A great weight seemed to be lifted off the young man. At the same time he stopped smiling.
“Another truth is that all of the Gorgon’s victims cannot move on.” He said with a hand on his mouth. “Its victims are not just deprived of life, but even of the path beyond it. If that is not a monster, then let Zeus strike me down as I speak.”
“He meant a lot to you.” Eugenia said with sympathy.
“Indeed.” He forced himself to focus. “He was my father.”
Eugenia suppressed a gasp, but she felt tears well up nonetheless. It was hard to swallow. The one who caused this suffering to the young man was…
“I am so sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be. Nobody should be.” He said softly. “It was his choice to slay a monster that he knew nothing about. He was that kind of foolish king.” His words were soaked in grief, despite his dismissive attitude.
“I always thought you were of Athens.”
“It is where I grew up and lived most of my life. Yet it never felt like ‘home’.” Typhos shook his head. “It took me many years to find out my heritage. The truth about this world.” His expression turned darker.
What could she even say? Now that she knew why he hated Medusa, why he wished for revenge? Her heart was torn and her mind aflame.
“You have a regrettable expression on your face.” He suddenly interrupted her inner turmoil. “As I said, do not misunderstand. I do not blame the Gorgon.”
“Huh?” Her mouth was left open.
“A beast that only defends itself is not capable of ‘guilt’. There may well be men who would slay the wolf that killed their father, but I have no such sentiments.” His eyes were dulled and distant. “Equally, I have no sympathy for this creature either. Therefore its death will not affect me. It is an inevitable step towards my revenge, nothing more.”
“Y-You make no sense! If you do not want to avenge your father’s death, then what revenge are you pursuing so desperately?!”
“Have you ever heard of Bisanthe?” He asked dryly.
“No, I haven’t.”
“A city far to the east. It rivals Athens, if not in size, then in culture and splendor. At least it did once.”
Thoughts were rushing through Eugenia’s mind. She tried to remember the world map that she had studied under the head priestess so long ago. Great cities east of Athens? There were not that many, especially if one discounted the barbarian lands beyond the borders.
“Is it close to Rhaidestos?”
“NO!” He suddenly shouted and hit the chest with his pale hand. The unexpected reaction made the priestess shrink back in fear. After realizing his outburst he coughed and apologized. “I did not mean to get loud. It is natural for you to think so, even if rather infuriating.” He calmed down. “Rhaidestos is Bisanthe.”
Eugenia furrowed her brows and waited for him to continue. She had never heard of Rhaidestos’ previous name.
“My father, King Heroides, was the ruler of Bisanthe. He was often referred to as the ‘hero king’ back then. Although nobody would be allowed to say so these days.” He crushed a Persian walnut between his fingers and let the dust rain down to cope with his urges. “The king was not the wisest, but the people loved him. He was always the first in line to fight their battles. A pure military man. The advisors on the other hand controlled the lands. Of course they hated father’s expeditions to help the people.”
“Why would they?”
“An active army is expensive. The upkeep for good non-slave soldiers is high and the men could not return to be farmers during their enlistment. Solving some distant troubles at the edge of the kingdom was a waste of resources in their eyes.” He didn’t seem to disagree at all actually. “King Heroides had slain many beasts. I was told that he even killed one of Typhon’s spawn with his own hands. His title was truly deserved.”
“And he came to Sarpedon.”
“When he heard those rumors about the Gorgon abducting people and raiding coastal villages, he could not stand idle. He took his best men and traveled to this cursed island to face it with courage, to bring it to justice.” He sighed. “He never returned. After one year of his disappearance he was declared dead by the council. And there was no direct heir to the throne.”
“But you-!”
“I was merely an infant.” He explained. “The king left before I was even born. I never…” He stopped his words. He didn’t wish to appear weak, even Eugenia could tell. “Mother could not rule. There was nobody left. So, following the example of Athens, the council took over. They declared themselves something equal to the Archons, but they were a sad imitation.” His smile was tinged in poison. “Those old men were weary of my presence. Once I grew up they would lose that sweet power they had been handed.”
Eugenia started to connect the dots. She was almost afraid to hear the rest.
“They started to spread anti-royal sentiments among the people. For was it not the foolish King Heroides who abandoned them for some lofty quest? Was it not him who raided the treasury to finance his ludicrous adventure?” He snorted.
“But he did it to help people.”
“What does it matter, if he failed? Results are everything in this world.” His words were too heavy to be mere projection. He had experienced this truth firsthand. “They were going to rid Bisanthe of the mad king’s bad influence. To that end they planned to kill me.”
“No…”
“Mother found out about it ahead of time. She- she sent me away to Athens with her most loyal slaves and all the treasure that she had left.” He bit his lip and then exhaled. “She stayed behind to buy us time.”
“I am sorry.” Eugenia repeated, but this time the scholar accepted it with a nod.
“Her gracious gift got me into the city and registered as an Attican. The slaves were sold off to cover my lodging and care.” He stopped, suddenly wondering why he was telling her all this. “You are certainly a good listener. A frightening skill.” He muttered.
“I don’t know what to say, but I can tell that you could not share this with anyone. You must have been suffering a lot by yourself. Tell me what burdens you.”
He looked at her as if she was completely unfair. Then he lowered his head and gave up.
“A priestess through and through, hm? My story is not interesting compared to those I usually tell. I was just a foolish boy searching for a place in the world.” He said with a shrug. “Of course surviving on my own required the support of someone who was quite foolish as well.” He chuckled again. “My mentor was a scholar. He taught me everything and free of charge at that. He is completely beyond help, honestly.”
Eugenia smiled weakly. That tone he just had was the first time she truly felt warmth from him this night.
“You may know his daughter at least. Akacia, grand priestess at the temple of Athena Pallas.”
“Lady Akacia’s father!” She really hadn’t expected it.
“They are not on speaking terms, despite my efforts.” He smirked. “And perhaps this should have been were my tale ends. Raised to be a terrible scholar under my master’s wings.” Clearly that had not been the case. Was he truly yearning for that? It was hard to tell. “I was not the type to give up on the truth. I needed to know who I truly was, where I came from. Do you understand?”
“Maybe.” She answered vaguely. Her past was one she could not forget even if she wished to sometimes.
“I found out about it by tracking down one of the slaves. He pointed me at Bisanthe or at least the newly renamed Rhaidestos. I was only a lad, but I needed to know.” The fire in his past self had still not died down. “I went there with what little resources I had and demanded to see my mother. To regain my heritage.” He told it as if it was a simple task. “I was stopped at the gates. They would not let me inside.”
“They barred the gates to a young boy?”
“They had been warned beforehand. The slave smelled an opportunity for a quick bag of coins.” He said emotionlessly. “The council told me that my mother had died of illness and Rhaidestos ill needed another mad king. My father supposedly was the reason the country was poor and isolated from the world. Even though their terrible incompetence is what caused the fall.”
“How horrible.”
“They said that they would not let me back onto the throne unless I made up for his mistake. His mad quest to slay the Gorgon is what brought our family to ruin. The treasury he had taken, I should repay.”
“You alone? B-But that’s-”
“Impossible? They thought the same, clearly. That was their intent. Even if I managed to gather the money, they would fill their pockets and cast me away nonetheless. That is what power does to people.” His words were harsh. He put one hand through his combed hair and made it a little wilder. “At first I tried exactly that. To gather money and influence. I threw myself at the wealthy and powerful in an attempt to learn lessons that my mentor couldn’t teach me. And learn them I did.” He held up his rings with forced calm. “Riches mean nothing to me. They are a means to an end. But I needed the funds to start my business. There was one aristocrat who fancied me. Lord Kerhones.”
“Fancied?” She asked thoughtlessly.
Typhos rubbed the rings on his hands. “He was a clever man. Had a weakness for young boys though. Easy to exploit.” He explained completely detached. “He always told me to keep my hands soft. A moneylender should not have hands like a farmer. Keep them soft… He would be disappointed in how they feel now.” He instinctively clutched the rings harder.
Eugenia could hear the soft vibrations of the metal against his skin. She had always wondered why a humble man like Typhos was wearing so much jewelry. It must have been to impress people she had thought… But now…
It seemed to shake him a little before he returned to the present.
“I got my money and learned how to use it. Eventually I gathered the sum that was asked of me.” He said darkly. “Of course it was all for nothing.”
“They didn’t accept it?”
“It was impossible to say how great the treasury really was. They could make up any number they wanted. I was simply feeding their greed.” He spat out.
“Your revenge…”
“You guessed it already. The council will rue the day they made light of King Heroides’ son.”
“And Lady Medusa?”
“If I bring them the head of the monster he failed to slay, no excuse will be good enough. The people will side with me.” He said matter of factly. “Though I have something much more satisfying planned for those old men.” The hatred he had suppressed for so long seemed to penetrate his outer shell.
“I understand why you are doing this.” Eugenia rose from her chair and grabbed the surprised scholar’s hands. “But there has to be a better way.” She insisted.
“Oh.” He looked at her hands, covered in small scars and blisters from her daily work. They were not very alike to his. “Yes, that was the matter we were discussing.” He seemed to have trouble returning to the present. Then he suddenly returned to his calm demeanor and smiled vaguely. “I am afraid that these are two different matters.”
“Huh?”
“My reasons are mine alone and I did not tell them to you to garner sympathy.” He rose as well and held Eugenia’s hands even more tightly in return. “The Gorgon must die and you will have to accept it.”
“Typhos, what are you saying?”
“You probably asked yourself this question many times: Why does Athena despise the Gorgon so?”
Eugenia’s heart stopped.
“I can tell you the truth. The question is whether you will stop running?” His smile was unrelenting, as was his grip.
“Please tell me.” She could not resist.
“It is because the Gorgon is a blasphemer.” He revealed.
“You already said-”
“She defiled this temple. Sarpedon was originally a temple of Athena worship.” Typhos shot without warning. “In her undying arrogance she defied punishment and shamed the gods with her words. Therefore she was cursed to be the monster you now know.”
“Lady Medusa… did what?” The words barely registered in her head.
“The place of her crime has become her eternal prison. Even the gods will not glance at this dark isle. The only ones who come here are humans. The first were the angry men who worshipped Athena and saw the priestesses banished from the temple or slaughtered before they could flee. They were the monster’s first victims. From there on she became an enemy of humanity as well. Every expedition for revenge created a longer chain of victims and injustice.”
“No! No no no…” She wished to back away, but he would not let go. He would not allow her to run.
“As long as the Gorgon lives this cycle of death and curses will not end. How many souls has she trapped on this island? How many more will she take until she is sated? There is no reconciliation with the gods either. She has chosen the path of war and the Olympians never forgive.”
“That is not who she is!!” Eugenia shouted.
“You think her capable of compassion?” Typhos words were like poison that seeped into the priestess mind. “Perhaps because she protected you? Kept you alive when she seemingly didn’t need to?”
Eugenia realized that this was the turning point. Something that must not be said was about to be spoken.
“You feel needed. You feel protected. You feel like you mean something to that thing.” He was now whispering close to her ear. “But the truth is that she is only protecting herself.”
“You lie!”
“I never lie to humans. The only ones I would lie to are the gods and monsters. That is how I got this knowledge. There was an owl, was there not?”
“Athenai?”
“That owl was a messenger of Athena which came to observe you.”
“P-Preposterous. She was just a normal owl…”
“Athena has never given you up. Her pride would not allow that. You are a precious chosen one Eugenia! What do you think she would do to the Gorgon if it killed you?”
Eugenia lost strength in her legs. Typhos let her sink to the ground and squatted next to her. His surprisingly strong hands still didn’t let go.
“Do you finally understand? If you came to harm, the Gorgon will be eradicated in vengeance. The gods banished her, ignored her existence, but you forced them to return their eyes to this blemish on the world. I tested her resolve today and now I am certain. Your life is tied directly to her head. Should you fall, so will she. There is nothing but selfishness in that heart of stone.”
He let go. Eugenia fell. She could no longer run.
“She does not care for you. She only harms anyone she encounters. Rejecting the gods, humans and the very world that birthed her. And you would defend that? You would find worth in that thing?”
Why did his words make sense? They shouldn’t have. She knew better, right? Only she knew the true Medusa.
You could not handle the truth.
Medusa’s words were still inside her mind, like an evening breeze.
She had been right.
“I am a selfish man, but I am not hiding it. I told you my reasons, bared my true self to you. Because I value you. You are not like most people who lie to others. You only lie to yourself to protect others. This is our side, Eugenia. Humanity’s side. If you want to save people and be a chosen one worthy of your goddess, you know where you should stand. A place where you do not need to live a lie anymore.”
With those final words he turned away and let his cape sway in the air. Then he was gone. The tent was left all to the struggling priestess.
----------------------------------------
At the western camp a mercenary awoke from his unconscious slumber. His head hurt like he had been kicked by an ox. The truth was far scarier. He pulled himself out of the remains of the barrel he had been thrown against.
As he raised his torso he almost lost control on his bladder from shock. In front of him were several statues. They were people he knew. Comrades he had just fought and laughed with mere hours ago.
“Xeros… Themrai…” He spoke their names and pulled himself up with tears in his eyes.
The camp was devastated. Most of the torches were extinguished and the tents torn to shreds. The Gorgon had been unstoppable.
Not quite.
He looked down with a pale face. There she lay. A woman more snake than human. Deep red wounds covered her body and she seemed unmoving. The battle had finally overwhelmed her! No, she was still breathing. How? With such a large hole in her back?
Wait, this was his chance. He was the only one left standing- no, alive.
His face contorted in anger. He grabbed the knife from one of his petrified comrades and raised it high above. He would end this once and for all!
The knife went down. Blood splattered across the Gorgon’s body.
“AIIIIEEEHH!” The mercenary cried out. The dozens of snakes that formed some semblance of hair on the monster’s body had all snapped at him at once. Their teeth sank deep into his hand and made him drop his weapon.
“Are you done yet?” The bloodcurdling voice of the monster reached his ears. It was still conscious!
“Uwaaaah!” The mercenary ran off with wetted legs and fled into the direction of the main camp.
Medusa slightly moved her unfeeling hands. She had almost slipped away there. The threat for her life had actually helped her to stay conscious. The snakes spat out pieces of the man’s hand next to her, which was not as nice.
“Curse them.” She forced her arms to move. She forced up her torso. She forced her wounds to heal faster.
The sun would rise soon. She needed to find that scholar.
Medusa frowned slightly, but then rose to her feet.
That was wrong, wasn’t it? The one she truly wanted to see was not her hated enemy.
It was…
The Gorgon rose from the earth. Eugenia curled up on the ground. As the sun rose, the fate of these two would finally be decided.