As Medusa's fingers brushed the blindfold, the world around her vanished. First, there was darkness, then the feeling of being buoyed. The sensation was similar to how her previous lives began, but something was slightly different this time; instead of feeling cramped in a clump of cells, she floated in the void with her fully formed limbs pressed to her chest.
Had she died during the training and triggered the start of another life? That couldn't be right. Her curse must have done something, and soon enough, Medusa’s suspicion was proven correct.
“You took the coward’s path,” the curse said, voice tight with displeasure.
Scowling, Medusa attempted to turn around only to remember there was no gravity. Every movement was excruciatingly slow, and it seemed she was in her ten-year-old body, judging from how her much longer hair floated around her face and tickled it in the most infuriating manner.
“You seem angry,” her curse said.
“You think?” Medusa was enraged at herself for running, ashamed even, but most of that fury was finding a new target.
The callous ease in her voice, like getting decapitated was nothing. Even now, Medusa’s neck itched in memory of the bite of the blade; the cuts always cleanly sliced through, but there was something about that sword. The way it burned, how air moved around its edge and how she remained painfully alive several minutes after decapitation. Those weren’t normal.
Gulping, Medusa attempted to touch her neck only to realise with maddening frustration that her hands wouldn’t move as quickly as she wished them to.
“We—” Medusa gritted her teeth and tried again. “I am not some unfeeling beast who uses people's trauma as some… some lesson for growth.” She released a chuff and shook her head. “How could you do that and claim we're the same person? How?”
“Medusa,” The curse spoke her name for the first time, seizing her full attention. “I am desperate.”
It was impossible to guess where the curse was with how her voice enveloped the space around Medusa.
“I only push you because I feel there's little time,” the curse said. “Try to understand the reason behind my harshness.”
“Just stop with the mental torture.” Medusa wished she could block her ears.
“I will not stop!” The curse suddenly appeared before Medusa, as tall as a tower and blazing with fury. “You’ve seen nothing—you know nothing. Look at me!” The curse's face morphed to that of a gorgon.
Medusa reeled back, shocked at the sight.
“Look!” She grabbed the snakes and glowed even brighter as her emotions intensified. “I lose my mind. Life after life. I feel it crawling in me. They stained our soul, and you’re asking me to stop?” She released a bitter laugh. “Never. Until we are free, I will never stop.”
Still frozen in her floating position, Medusa couldn’t get a single word out in the face of her rage.
She sighed as her glow dimmed a little. “Call it instinct, but I know you must shed those horrors. You must.” She shrank to human size and floated forward.
“I know what I’m doing. You have to trust me.” The curse’s gaze turned imploring as she cradled Medusa’s face.
Medusa made it a point not to directly look at the snakes hanging over her shoulders.
“All that wrongness keeps these alive.” She flicked at the snakes like they were actual tresses. “It locks us in a cage and gives our enemies the keys.”
Not knowing what to say, Medusa attempted to pull away, but the curse wouldn’t let go. “Because I know us, I made the training what it is with consideration of our limitations.”
Medusa looked away. “If you’re me, you’d know where to draw the line.”
The curse released a cold chuckle as she dropped her hands. “That’s where you're wrong. You forget that I do not need your permission.”
Medusa’s heart sank. “What are you saying?”
“From the moment you tied that blindfold, you were in my turf,” she jabbed at her chest, face pinched in annoyance. “You only get to leave when I allow it.”
“Then I’m trapped.” Medusa's heart sank even further. “That's a terrifying thing to—”
“Terrifying? Trapped!” The serpents twitched alive in her rage, hissing and straining for freedom. “Wake up. Fight hard, gain all the power there is, but so far this wrongness remains in our soul, you will turn to a gorgon.”
Medusa shook her head in denial.
“I know you know it.” She pointed as she spoke, a mannerism Medusa recalled she had picked up in her third life. “Either you do things my way or become a beast.”
“I—”
She scoffed and cut Medusa off. “How do you plan to wield this power you’re chasing? Your will is laughably fickle.”
“I'm not fickle,” Medusa replied, though the denial sounded dead on her tongue. “I am—”
“Say you unlock some earth-shattering ability, while looking like a beast, of course, and Perseus appears, wielding that lovely sword of his,” she raised a brow. “You'll run, right?”
“No. I’ll… fight,” Medusa said weakly. Before she attempted the training, she may have been more confident with her reply, but judging from how badly she reacted to a mimic statue...
“It's useless to lie to me, but I'll take your word for it.” The curse clapped and beamed at her like they had come to a mutual conclusion. “You'll return and face what needs to be faced.”
“Huh?” Medusa blinked, whiplashed from the sudden change in the curse’s personality.
“And try not to die. I act like I’m fine, but I really hate dying.” The curse turned and waved in dismissal.
“Wait, I—” Medusa returned just in time to save herself. Diving to the side, she narrowly escaped a downward slash from Perseus’ sword.
Scuttling away, she watched the statue blink at the empty spot before slowly turning in her direction. Cocking his head, he straightened and sharply dislodged his sword from the ground.
Stumbling to her feet, Medusa ripped her focus off Perseus at the sound of a snap. A stone arrow zapped past her face and took some strands of hair.
Cuauhua frowned at his stone bow, appearing confused, but he soon shook off his confusion and reached for another arrow.
Medusa ran and noticed with relief that she had enough aether to boost her speed, but there was a problem. Unlike the regular world where she felt aether around and could pull it in, the training world was different. She sensed aether condense in some reservoir in her lower belly, and the more she used it to zig-zag across the square, the more it depleted.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Even more arrows. She dodged all, mostly because she could hear the abnormally loud snap before each hit, and there was also the fact that aether enhanced her senses.
While she ran in circles in search of an aether spot, she felt Perseus’ gaze on her. He remained at the place of his first strike, his head still cocked to the side but rotating to follow her movement.
Not only was it disconcerting, but it also made her wary. He was planning something. From the brief look she got of his face, there was calculative intelligence there. The sooner she was out of his sight, the better.
She would either make her way through the surrounding houses, hoping to find an aether spot, or head for the temple. Her instinct pulled her toward the houses, and with that in mind, she changed her path, but Perseus derailed her plan.
Bending his knees, Perseus blasted off the ground, reached a height that defied gravity, and shot back to earth. He held his sword ready as he aimed for her.
Panicking, Medusa attempted to change direction mid-run, but her coordination was in shambles. His descent was impossibly fast, and she figured his landing would cause a catastrophic wide-range attack.
Seeing nowhere to run, Medusa looped her arms over her head and willed her dimension. It didn't work.
Perseus crashed down like a comet. The earth trembled beneath her feet as debris flew about. Plumes of dust obscured her vision, but why wasn’t she choking?
Looking around in confusion, Medusa spotted Perseus amidst the dust. He was standing a mere foot away. That he was looking straight at her meant she wasn't in her dimension. Something wasn't right.
Straightening, she checked her body for wounds and grew even more confused when she saw nothing. It wasn't until the dust settled that she realised the extent of the damage. Save for the perfect circle she stood in, the stone ground around was demolished.
Medusa would have laughed if her heart wasn’t thundering in her chest. But she smiled, wishing Clotho were here to see. She didn't know how she had managed to form a shield, though hers was ten times smaller than the one Galene used against the ekhidna.
Movement to her left drew her attention. Cuauhua joined Perseus, and they observed the dome. That look of intelligence on their faces forced a shiver.
Seeming to come to a solution, Perseus stepped back, braced his feet and lifted his weapon.
Fear burned away the relief and pride Medusa had just enjoyed. Seeing Perseus’ actions, Cuauhua nocked his arrow and aimed.
Medusa staggered when they struck the dome. Like a blunt force to the head, it shook her brain within her skull and flared with the pain of a sawing headache.
Swaying on her feet, Medusa grabbed her throbbing head. Think. What to do. No weapons. The shield was useless now. They’re killing me. So hard to think.
First, she had to get out of the shield. Now. The word rang in her mind and occupied every thought, and as if in answer, the shield vanished.
Perseus’ sword pierced the earth, and one of Cuauhua’s arrows fell an inch from her left foot.
Medusa didn't wait. The instant the pain vanished, she ran, then stumbled to a stop when she noticed it. The temple’s large doors were open, and within its dark interior was a dim green light.
A disbelieving laugh escaped. What are the odds of hiding an aether spot there? The curse was determined to stump over her sensibilities.
Not giving herself a moment to think, Medusa raced for the temple. There was a nagging voice in the back of her mind urging her not to go in, but the desperation for survival snuffed it out.
Even now, she could hear the clanks of their footsteps pursuing her. She took the steps two at a time and nearly lost her footing when she heard another snap. An arrow whizzed past her arm and struck the thick door ahead. Splinters flew about before the arrow crumbled to dust.
Don't look back. Don't look back.
More snaps that were much closer this time. Fast panicked zigzagging that slowed her climb. These damn steps. Three arrows flew past in succession. Two hit the door, another missed her only because she followed the instinct to lean to her left. Curse you, Cuauhua.
Finally making it to the top of the steps, Medusa dashed past the doors and into the temple. Resting her forehead against the shut door, she sucked in huge gulps of air then groaned with frustration when she realised the door didn’t have a lock.
But they’re statues. They wouldn't be able to—
Medusa stumbled away from the door when she heard it. Footsteps. How were they so fast? Whipping around, she sought out the aether spot only to come to a disappointing discovery.
Twin daggers floated within an upward beam of green light, and above them, a small parchment rippled into sight.
“What sort of trick—” Medusa pressed her lips shut and beat down the desire to throw a tantrum. This wasn't the time for anger. If they open the door, I'm dead. For some reason, the words the curse said about trying not to die got to her. Her sense of self-preservation was even fiercer than what she usually felt in the real world.
Medusa looked around as she approached the floating daggers. The light spilling from the beam exposed an empty, large space with a polished marble floor, but beyond that was darkness. No walls, no pillars or the archways that led deeper into the temple.
Medusa retrieved the parchment. English words written in her handwriting.
The heart of the goddess.
Don't die.
Confused, Medusa flipped the parchment but saw nothing more. Her focus slid to the daggers. All priestesses wielded them; it didn’t matter if one was too young or a non-combatant, you must be armed and know how to use knives. But the last time she wielded the daggers was in her first life during blindfold training. She'd have to trust her muscle memory.
Tossing the parchment, Medusa observed the daggers without reaching for them. Something was different about the hilt. The goddess’ emblem was missing, and as Medusa watched, they shifted from silver to shiny black metal.
Amazed, Medusa reached for the daggers in a daze. She felt it then. Eyes on her.
Withdrawing her hand, she glanced about. The darkness that didn't bother her suddenly seemed like a living thing. Did Perseus or Cuauhua sneak in? One quick peek behind showed the doors were still shut.
Medusa flinched when an orb flashed on and washed the wall ahead in a soft green glow. What it exposed gave her a pause.
It was an exact copy of the statue of Athena Medusa had at home, only this time it stood at least ten feet tall. Even more orbs blinked on. They lit the place one at a time to her left and right.
There were six archways, three on each side. Before the archways were statues of dagger-wielding priestesses, and unlike the statue of Athena, their marble eyes were open and fixed on her.
Beyond wary, Medusa took a step back.
Outside, Perseus and Cuauhua waited, but here… here she had access to a weapon. Her focus returned to the floating daggers, and the urge to reach for them returned. Suppose she could quickly grab them and flee, yes. If she enhanced her momentum with aether, she could barrel into the door and probably disorientate Perseus and Cuauhua enough to escape.
Satisfied with her plan, Medusa retrieved both daggers, but the instant the knives left the beam, her feet locked to the spot.
“No. No. No.” Medusa imagined the curse watching and laughing, and nearly lost it. Straining did nothing but hurt her knees, then her panic ballooned to horror when she realised the priestesses had gained mobility.
They moved their necks from side to side, and some rolled their shoulders before stretching as if in preparation for combat.
“Not today. Please, not today.”
Determined, Medusa pulled even harder, and when nothing happened, she directed a fraction of aether to her feet and groaned within herself as her aether reserve drained even further. She was free now, but regrettably surrounded.
One against six. The realisation threatened to drive her to panic mode, but Medusa kicked the thought out of her mind. The strangely warm daggers sat in her palms just right, her muscle memory proving reliable.
Eyes dancing across the approaching priestesses, Medusa took in their movement. She recognised this tactic. A trapping method the priestesses used to track and kill beasts. There were numerous weak spots to flee from at a glance, but those were deadly baits.
Instead of going for the gaps, Medusa shot for the nearest priestess. The blade connected alright, but all she achieved was metal scratching against stone. There was a flash of movement, but she leapt away and followed the flow of the attack.
Returning to the shrinking middle, Medusa swallowed a hiss of frustration. There was no sign of physical damage on the statue. But she was sure she enhanced her dagger with aether. What went wrong? The concern was that if she poured more aether into her attacks, her reserves might dwindle before she could handle all the statues.
The stone priestesses pressed ahead, steadily eating the space as they held their daggers ready.
One of the priestesses rushed forward, daggers held at an expert angle and her aim sure. This time, Medusa pumped even more aether into her blades and gunned for the statue as well. Big mistake.
The agony of the collision stunned Medusa, and as she crashed to the ground, she instinctively willed a shield that saved her from getting flattened under the crushing weight of the now headless statue. This time, her shield was much smaller and closer to her body, and she barely managed to wiggle away before it vanished, and the statue hit the ground with a heavy clank.
Daggers still clutched in her hands, Medusa snapped to her feet only to notice something stranger. The statue twitched as its hands tapped about as if searching for her missing head.
Finding the sight too disturbing, Medusa channelled aether into her blade and hurled it toward where the statue's heart should have been. Something unexpected happened when her strike hit its mark. The statue disintegrated, and a miniature aether spot flickered into existence.
Ugh. Why does numerous pairs of eyes sound so... off?
Anyhoo, thanks to the kind soul who dropped a rating yesterday.
It'll always be character-driven for me.
Until next Saturday.
What kind of story do you prefer?
