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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 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—perhaps 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—a 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—howling 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—

"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—ant deities as Medusa liked to call them—was 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.