If the goal is to end the gods, do not think your family will be spared.

  The warning lingered as Medusa opened her eyes. Unlike the times she fell unconscious, there was no one waiting at her bedside. The room held a single bed, a chair to her right, and she could sense no other presence. Weaving her fingers over her belly, she blinked at the vaulted ceiling as she considered the Moirai’s words.

  Her parents were ancient, and though her sisters were not up to two hundred, they had lived longer than the oldest of mortals. There was also the ugly truth about their existence sustained on mortal lives. It made sense to let them go. But there was another thought, one selfishly loud and stubborn. It asked why she had to lose her people when she had only just got them back.

  As if to mock her, Clotho’s words from months back returned.

  Not all deities revel in human suffering… Surely, there must be deities you’ve encountered that did not seek to cause you suffering.

  A low, bitter laugh escaped. Then, the thought of ascribing basic decency to deities had been ridiculous. She hated them to death. Now, look at me. Selfish, cowardly me. When Ares, a god rumoured to have killed millions, asked that she kill him first, she baulked. Did the Moirai see through her? Did they know her heart? Was that why Lachesis said what she said? Can I kill my family?

  There had to be another way. Recollection trickled in. Something had happened in the moments before the Monolith’s vein consumed her. A sudden understanding…

  Bolting upright, her focus snapped about in search of anything alive. Then she found it, a tree branch within reach of the window. She had just moved to stand when she felt a stinging sensation in her chest. There was a two-inch scar on the skin over her heart courtesy of Euryale.

  “It’s fine.” Medusa patted the tender spot and mumbled, “I forgive you.”

  She had made the mistake once, assuming her parents were beholden to Athena, but she’d be damned to repeat that foolishness.

  Rising to her feet, she strolled to the window. Chirping birds flew from branch to branch, and the air held that pleasant coolness of a dewy morning. For a moment, an intense craving for coffee hit her, but she shrugged it off with a sombre sigh. Each life passed with something she intensely missed, and she had learned early not to hold on to things to save herself the heartache. Not this time, though. Now she intended to hold on as tightly as possible.

  Reaching past the sill, she grabbed a leaf and tugged. It held on, causing the branch to sway and send birds scattering.

  Unlike her first life, where she never understood the concept behind her stone gaze, this new understanding slipped in like a puzzle piece, fitting perfectly. The strangest part was how she felt it was something she had once known but had forgotten. Plants do not have eyes or a soul, but the theory in her head showed her another way.

  She held the leaf and concentrated not on aether, but on the key pulsing faintly in her sternum. It possessed a different energy, perhaps a higher form of aether? She wasn't sure. Following instincts, she reached for the leaf’s base structure. She’d call them cells, but the key didn’t see them that way. There was another force giving the cells life, and all she had to do was disrupt its balance and introduce her cursed essence.

  Like a creeping disease, the petrification infected the midrib, spread to the veins, but went no further.

  A smile twitched at her lips, then slowly broadened until her cheeks hurt. Pulling the leaf free, she observed it closely with wide eyes. The leaf was heavier than it should be, and the petrification did not progress, no matter how hard she pushed. Still, this… “Wow,” she breathed.

  “It is good that you are back on your feet.

  Medusa turned, still smiling. Clotho was seated on the chair next to the bed; though she appeared exhausted, it didn’t look as bad as the last time.

  “To see you smiling after such an ugly ordeal.” She clicked her tongue. “I assumed you would be angry at me. All that blindside and such.”

  “So you know.” Medusa pulled the leaf into her dimension and returned to the bed with an annoyed huff.

  “I feel like an apology will achieve nothing.”

  “That is correct.” Medusa released Rico, allowing him to settle on her lap. This time, he shook awake, yawned and blinked at her with the cutest black eyes. She retrieved chunks of salmon cut into tiny cubes and began feeding him one at a time.

  Medusa asked the question burning in her mind. “Did you know a Monolith’s vein was there?”

  “You found another vein?”

  “You didn't know?” Medusa observed the Moirai. She appeared genuinely puzzled, but you can never really tell with divine beings. “So what was all that about fighting barefoot?”

  “I can sense it. You drew from a second vein.” A burst of vitality replaced her previously dull air as she released a hearty laugh. “This is marvellous news.”

  She stood and began pacing. “Ah, so that's why. But…” More mumbling Medusa couldn’t catch despite her enhanced hearing.

  “I thought you knew.”

  Clotho waved distractedly. “I saw that Athena would use a cursed blade.”

  “And?” Medusa raised a brow.

  Appearing annoyed by the distraction, she explained, “The odeon you fought at was built over one of the titans. Dealith was an anti-sorcery healer whom Zeus deeply despised. Her energy, like that of other petrified titans you encountered, still lingers.” Clotho grinned, appearing thoroughly pleased. “I threw in barefoot combat to ensure healing from the earth and her anti-sorcery energy. But something even better than what I foresaw happened.” She laughed again. “Oh, this is marvellous.”

  More mumbling, smiling and pacing. When she finally sat, an air of decorum replaced her previous excitement. “This is good. How do you feel? The vein didn’t hurt you, no? You were unconscious for a full day.”

  “I’m fine.” Medusa stopped herself from touching the scar on her chest. “Did you know my sister would be there?”

  Clotho winced, appearing apologetic. “I saw two possibilities. One had a boy no older than eleven. A carrier of Zeus’ blood. His body expanded into this… this massive form. Heavily muscled, red-eyed. Brutal strength exceeding what an ordinary blood carrier should possess. You barely won. Blinded one of his eyes.” She pointed at her left eye. “Then there was the other with your sister and the cursed blade.”

  Medusa nodded. “I see.” A beat of silence. “I met your sister.”

  “Again?” Concern coloured Clotho’s voice. “Seeing that you’re here, Atropos didn't try to kill you, no?”

  “Lachesis. It was Lachesis I met.”

  Usually sleepy eyes widened and glowed an even brighter shade of gold. In a blink, she was in Medusa’s face, grabbing her shoulders with a look of urgency.

  “You’re not lying?” She asked, tone desperate. "You truly saw Lachesis?”

  “I did.” Medusa nodded, alarmed by the sudden movement and flaring energy around the Moirai.

  Clotho released a shuddering breath and collapsed into her chair. She covered her face with trembling hands. “A thousand thanks to the Maker. Seeing what Zeus took from her—” her voice broke. “I began to fear when I saw what he took from her.”

  Then the questions came like bullets. “How is she? Was she hurt? What did she say? Where is she?”

  It felt nice to have the answers for once. “She looked like a child. Is that normal?”

  Clotho nodded. “She can change her appearance into various stages of life. Even a baby.” She frowned and muttered, “Zeus stole that somehow.”

  “I see,” Medusa said. “She also looked haggard and poor.”

  Clotho laughed and slapped her thigh, a look of fondness brightening her eyes. “It’s Lachesis. It's really her. Now I'm even more determined to free her. We must win the Games and—”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “She asked me to stop you from doing that.”

  Like a candle going out, joy vanished from Clotho's face. “What?”

  “Something about a war breaking out if you insist on her freedom.”

  For a heavy moment, Clotho remained silent. Then her eyes glowed and glazed over with a faraway look. “A war still comes either way,” she said in a monotone. She blinked and looked Medusa in the eye. “I am certain of it.”

  “Do you want a war to come?”

  “War, battles, even clashes among nameless clans. All are inevitable,” Clotho said, tone flat. “I do not wish for war, but I will prepare for what foresight shows me.”

  Medusa nodded. “I said the same thing, and she acted like I twisted a knife in a wound.”

  A sad smile touched Clotho’s lips as she stared at her hands. “How can she not seek freedom? It's inevitable what Zeus plans to do. I—” Appearing even more exhausted, she shook her head.

  “I still wish to participate in the games.” And win. She had another plan; something she had no intention of sharing with anyone, not even the Moirai. “Is that possible?”

  “There is a way. But…” She cocked her head and observed Medusa with a probing stare. “You do not plan to ask for my sister's freedom if you win.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  “You saw that with foresight?”

  Clotho released a bleak laugh and shook her head. “With you, it's failing.”

  Medusa’s hand froze mid-pet. Did she hear that correctly? “What does that mean?”

  “Before you took the key, I could see somewhat clearly. But like Zeus, your key now disrupts my sight of your future.” A puzzled frown twisted her brow. “A strange feeling indeed.”

  Medusa did not know what to feel. Relief, dread?

  “It's even worse now,” Clotho continued. “The key must have grown stronger after feeding from the vein.”

  “I see.” Should I tell her my petrification is coming back?

  Clotho pushed to her feet, ready to leave. “Remember, you can ask for whatever you need. And… surprise me.”

  Before Medusa could give a reply, she was gone.

  Only Euryale, priestess of Athena, will represent House Ares at the Fate of Heroes games.

  Medusa learned Zeus’ decree had come on the day of the sham of a contest.

  Athena won.

  The bitter reality hung like a poisonous cloud over the entire household. Ares had not shown up when his men sent both her and Akrivi away. They were given two horses, a map and a wooden box Medusa kept in her dimension. Now, both of them pressed deeper and deeper past the mountain bordering Ares’ domain.

  “Aren’t we the luckiest?” Akrivi said with false cheer as they journeyed through the thickets. The bushes parted for them, tree branches bent away to make room and roots slithered from their path. Lysander mentioned that the crest, which also served as a beast repellent, was one of Demeter’s creations, called a Bush Beater. The green gem was attached to the horse’s crownpiece and poured waves of twisted aether ahead.

  A flock of birds took flight as a stiff breeze rustled through nearby trees. Lysander said they would find the hidden portal in less than two hours if everything went smoothly.

  “Sent off like fugitives.” Akrivi continued his complaint. “Say, ever heard of these barbaroi?” He glanced in her direction.

  “If…” Medusa arranged the question in her head to ensure it came out right. “If you can kill any deity of your choosing, who will it be?”

  Akrivi appeared taken aback by the question, then his face darkened with a scowl. “Poseidon.” He flashed a charming smile. “Patricide too bad?”

  “It’s fine.” Medusa shifted her focus to the path ahead. “I will choose him too.”

  “Who?” He leaned in as if to confirm what he heard.

  “Poseidon.” Medusa met his eyes. “He is also the first on my list. Then Athena, followed by Zeus. There are some others, but their sins are nothing compared to those three.”

  Akrivi gawked at her as if she were mad, then he grinned. “You’re crazy. Did I tell you I like crazy, beautiful doves? You remind me of a friend. May. The one you mocked, remember?”

  “I didn’t mock her,” Medusa replied dryly. Should she get it over with and tell him she was May?

  The two days of recovery had been filled with unique discoveries. She had decided to tinker with the key, which revealed an interesting…truth.

  For one, her curse felt closer—no, the curse was basically one with her soul. It was a weird and sobering discovery. This body may die, but the Monolith will never let her cursed soul experience actual death. She had mourned for an hour, wiped her tears and faced the reality of what had always been her existence.

  So she asked Clotho for more lessons on Theos Tongue. This time, there was progress; a way to twist Theos Tongue to her benefit became clearer. Similar to her version of Breathing, she could create her own Theos language by merging the so-called language of creation with languages she had learned in her past lives. What was left was honing that skill and finding a way to make up for other weaknesses.

  Another crucial part of her plan was currently frowning as he observed the map he was holding up.

  “I know a way,” Medusa said.

  “Huh?” Akrivi asked distractedly. “Let’s leave topography to me. I’m excellent with maps.”

  “I know a way to kill gods.”

  Akrivi swerved his head in her direction. When he spoke, his voice was tight with tension as he glanced about. “That’s something you shouldn’t even whisper.”

  Stopping her horse, Medusa chose to get it over with. She touched her necklace as Clotho had and used the second modified Theos command she had learned.

  “Shift.”

  Unlike how smoothly Clotho’s worked, hers came with a tingling feeling along with a sudden assault of pins and needles. But judging from how taller and flatter in the chest she had become, it was successful. Just like last night.

  A sudden movement at the corner of her eyes forced her to turn just in time to witness Akrivi tumble off his horse.

  Scrambling to his feet, he watched her with wide, disbelieving eyes. A sword materialised, and he pointed with it. “You… what is the meaning of this?”

  She resisted the urge to smile as she cocked her head. “You? Aren’t you going to call me soft hands?”

  “What?” The question came as a weak whisper.

  “It's me.” Medusa gestured at her face. “I'm May. And it's not called a Rico. My pet's a water cat. His name is Rico.”

  “It can't…” The sword wavered but remained pointed. “You’re not… I saw May—”

  “Did you see her die?” Medusa swiftly dismounted and approached him.

  Akrivi stood straighter, sword no longer trembling but still aimed at her. His eyes took on a sharp, calculating glint. “You… are you a goddess?”

  “You asked me if one of my parents is a deity.” Medusa stopped some feet away. “Both my parents are deities. But I'm mortal… kinda.” The last word was in English.

  “She does that, too,” Akrivi said, voice aghast. “Speaking in a strange tongue.” His sword was no longer aimed at her. “Do you swear you're mortal?”

  Well, my body is. “I swear.”

  He shook his head. “No. No. Swear by…” he appeared to search for the right word. “Swear by the Monolith.”

  “You know the Monolith?” This time, Medusa was the shocked one.

  He shrugged. “The master who taught me said no deity can lie when swearing by the Monolith. Whatever that is.”

  Medusa paused. Could she swear? But she was a mortal and also not. What if the Monolith—

  Upon her hesitation, he raised his sword again. Fear returned to his gaze. “Were you the one who killed May? You stole her identity, didn't you? Was that why Zeus allowed a goddess to face you in combat? Did you—”

  “I swear by the Monolith that I'm mortal,” Medusa rushed to say. When she wasn’t struck dead, she unclenched her fists. “See? I'm mortal,” she said aloud, as if to also reassure herself. “Now put that sword away. Not like it would have worked if I were truly a goddess.”

  His face fell as his sword vanished. “Then it's true.”

  When he moved to grab his rein, Medusa appeared at his side and held his arm. “Hey.”

  He looked from the spot she held to her face. His gaze lingered. “Is this even your real face?” There was accusation in his voice, maybe hurt. “You… you died, May. You left us to see a body like that and all this while you were alive and prancing freely with your… your Rico.” He released a humourless laugh and snatched his arm free. “I don't even know if what I'm feeling is rage or joy. Such a twisted thing to do,” he mumbled.

  Medusa felt lower than a scoundrel. She realised she was the one who didn't put as much importance on their friendship. Perhaps it was the curse of living through so many reincarnations. To protect herself, she had learned to never hold on too tightly to things or relationships. Well, there was Antonii, but he wasn't even normal to begin with.

  “I'm sorry,” Medusa finally said to his back. “Everything happened so fast that day. Athena wanted me dead. We had to give her what she wanted to save my life.”

  He mumbled something.

  “What?” Medusa asked, even though she heard him clearly.

  “You should apologise to Lonian too.” He finally turned to face her. “He may look like some stoic monk, but his heart’s soft. He even pleaded with Demeter to cremate your body. Something about the earth's embrace and another life.”

  “Oh. I see.” Medusa’s heart warmed. “I'll apologise when we meet.” Then she frowned when his words registered. “Was the body cremated?” That was actually a good idea. Burn the evidence.

  “No.” Akrivi shook his head. “Since your family couldn't be traced, you were buried next to the Dog's House. Eristes even commissioned a monument.”

  “Eristes?” Medusa chuckled as she recalled the terrier-looking boy. “I thought he hated me.”

  Akrivi smiled sadly. “You’re the star of the Dogs, soft hands. And we're no longer at the bottom, thanks to your heroism at the tournament.”

  She wouldn’t call it heroism, but she nodded anyway. “I see.”

  Akrivi laughed. “‘I see’ again? It's really you, soft hands.” He swung an arm over her shoulder, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “So what did we bury?”

  “One of the hyades.”

  “Wow!” That curious gleam returned to his eyes. “How did you do it? You must tell me.”

  Though Medusa laughed along and answered what she could, a nagging remained at the back of her mind. A loose end.

  Perhaps it would have been better if the body had been cremated.

  I want to rail at them to be fast with it, but I sit my hypocritical ass down when I remember I do the same and sometimes even fail to deliver within a week.

  Anyhoo, until next Saturday.