86. How to Shake a Serpent #2
Teeth, claws and impossible speed. It leapt at Polydectes, bit into his side, rag-dolled him. The sounds of crunching bones. A child's scream mixed with the crowd's.
Medusa looked away only to come face to face with another Perseus. Like a volume dialled down, the noise faded to nothing and the world around them froze.
He stood six feet away, wearing the same dark suit from that day, but this time the sardonic smile was missing. If anything, he appeared cautious, but that air of barely contained violence was something he could never pretend away.
What was this? If he could kill her, he would have done so from the start. Why show her his father getting torn to ribbons?
"Medusa." A pinched excuse of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Twice now, we've gotten off on the wrong foot."
Twice. Twice? Did he forget attempting to kill her at Dris Valon? Or their clash some days ago? Was this an attempt to distance himself from whatever the younger Perseus did?
Instead of releasing the questions bursting in her head, she maintained silence, choosing to observe what he'd do next.
Because he had to be up to something. She didn't understand this space where she couldn't access her dimension, but that wouldn't stop her from fighting to the bitter end when it came down to it.
Now that she thought of it, it was a good thing this adult version of Perseus was before her. He was the one who killed Antonii. Whatever sorcery he used to escape death on Earth, she would unravel and raze every fragment of his soul to ashes if she had to.
"Did you see?" He looked to his left, appearing enraged. Like a stage with perfect lighting, the arena fell into darkness, leaving only his father's mangled remains in the light.
Medusa turned her eyes away, unwilling to see.
"When I was young, I did not understand. I thought my mother was a whore who condemned my father to an ugly death. When he called them beasts, I... I misunderstood." He looked her way. The rage was gone and in its place were eyes dim with sorrow. "It took me many, many years to finally see."
He pointed, and a spotlight fell on his mother. "That was not my mother, but Athena. She had killed my mother after the birth of Linos. She took her place, then proceeded to tear my life apart in a sick remaking process they call the inferno." He glanced at her. "Do you know of it?"
Medusa looked from the frozen image of Danae to Perseus. Even though she felt no fear in his presence, it was eerie watching him stand there in modern attire and showing human emotions. "Why?"
He appeared confused. "Why what?"
"Why show me this?"
"Because I need you to understand why I did what I did." As he spoke, he waved a hand. They moved through his life. Scene after scene.
At one point, he was kidnapped. In another scene, he cried over the body of a humpbacked girl.
A series of brutal training. Another grieving scene.
Perseus hugging a dead boy, eyes wide with disbelief as tears fell silently.
Kneeling in the midst of an island devastated by the sea.
More brutal training. A scene of Athena choosing him as one of her champions. Perseus bowing as he received a sword.
"Understand that I had no personal feelings involved when I sought you out in your cave. Athena sent me to get your head."
"Am I in a confessional?" Medusa spat, unable to help it. "Do I look like your priest?"
He looked at her, appearing hurt. Medusa couldn't tell if it was her negative bias playing with her mind, but his actions felt like a mime. His sadness, his expressions, they all came across as insincere. Or were they not?
"I merely wish for you to understand where I am coming from." He sighed. "You must have noticed you can't do anything in this space."
Medusa raised a brow at that. Can't do anything in this space? We'll see about that.
"It's all a show of my goodwill." He placed his hand over his chest as if giving a solemn oath. "I made it this way so we can finally communicate without resorting to violence."
Without resorting to violence? Look at who's talking. Medusa nearly laughed. "I see," she replied dryly.
His 'memories' resumed, and soon the scene of her beheading came. Medusa watched it all without flinching. The scene showed how impersonal the entire affair was from his perspective. Before now, he had slain hundreds of beasts; she was merely another number.
Interestingly, there was no scene of him meeting Lachesis yet. Medusa briefly wondered if he would show it. Because if she were to measure Lachesis' word against his, she knew who she'd believe.
There were scenes of quests. Trials. Becoming a low deity. Moving to Olympus. Even one with Athena taking Perseus as one of her many consorts.
"It was on this day I began to learn the truth," Perseus said as the scene around them morphed to a large, opulent bedchamber. It was early morning, with slats of sunlight spilling past east-facing windows and washing the place with its light.
Athena was seated at the balcony, bare legs crossed as she took in the busy street below.
"It will begin tomorrow." She was wearing a frilly silk robe and appeared thoroughly relaxed. "These beloved mortals busy with their simple mortal lives will all perish." She glanced at Perseus, who was lying on the bed, and clicked her tongue. "Truly, your father is wicked."
"My father?" Perseus sat up, causing the sheets to bunch around his waist.
The thick waves of her hair spilt over a bare shoulder as she peered at him.
"Ah, I forgot you didn't know." She tutted, then sauntered over.
Settling next to him, she rested her hand on his thigh.
"Perseus, Zeus is not the benevolent god you believe him to be," she revealed in a pained voice.
"He took the appearance of your father and raped your mother. That was how you were conceived."
First he blinked at her, before tearing himself from her hold and stumbling away with the sheets clutched in his fist. "Do not lie to me."
A small frown squeezed her brow. "What benefit do I gain from lying? You're already mine."
Perseus stared at her in disbelief.
"You must have felt it. That there's something more to you. Think of how you excelled faster than the rest, how easily you bested beasts. Surely, you do not believe all that came from a since diluted blood?"
"I—"
"That day your father died at the arena? Zeus also took the appearance of your mother." She looked at him with pity. "That is the type of god your father is. He enjoys turning into... things for his sick pleasure."
"Lies!"
She strolled over and cradled his face. "Look at me." Forcing him to face her, she held his gaze. If Medusa did not know her true nature, she would have sworn that was kindness in her eyes.
"Zeus has all the other gods trapped in a cage of obedience. All the trials you had to suffer through, it was all at his behest. I would never hurt you deliberately. Never."
Unbidden, Medusa recalled similar moments in her first life. Athena comforting her when she felt homesick, bringing little presents. Making her feel cherished. No one can escape that charm. The woman had perfected the act of compassion and benevolence to a chilling degree.
"But if he is my father, why?" There was pain in Perseus' eyes. "Why would he do that to me?"
She let go of him, but her expression remained earnest. "Because he is cruel and unforgiving. He has thousands of children scattered across Tartarus and Greece."
His face fell. "And my brother?"
She shook her head. "He was useless to Zeus because he was never his son."
Perseus' eyes began to shake. "So my mother was no whore."
"Every mortal woman is a whore for something." Athena patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture before settling in a bedside chaise and pouring herself a cup of wine. "I know it's a lot to take in."
Perseus stared into space.
"You must be sad. Confused. All that honed power yet you're nothing before the might of Zeus. Unable to avenge the deaths of your brother." She took a sip from her cup and carefully considered him. "I was also like that," she quietly said. "Powerless before my father."
"Father?" Perseus' face went lax as if coming to a horrifying realisation. "If-If we share the same father, then we..." he weakly gestured between them.
Athena threw her head back and cackled to the ceiling. "What a pure reaction. Calm your sensitive heart, boy. I'm adopted."
Perseus didn't relax. His face remained a kaleidoscope of disbelief, sorrow and shock.
"Anyway, you will be wielding this in my coming war against our wicked father." She waved with her cup and a suspiciously round sack rolled to Perseus' feet. "Years and years of resentment have made it more potent, but it is not enough. Go on." She nodded at the sack.
Perseus dipped his hand into the sack and, to Medusa's silent fury, retrieved her blindfolded head.
"You will go to Serpedon, the very Island in which you slew that thing. Your blood will help you seek out a Monolith vein. You know what to do."
She smiled at him. "Twelve days. If you're not done by then, I'll have to leave our father's war to come seek you out myself. You do not want me to seek you out myself."
Perseus kept staring at Medusa's head, appearing dazed.
"Do you understand?" Her voice as well as her expression hardened.
"Yes," he quietly said. "Yes, I understand."
"Good." She relaxed into her seat. "Now discard that needless covering and come love me."
Thankfully, Medusa was spared the sight of her blindfolded head in a corner as her enemies went at it.
The scene around them shifted again.
"Despite knowing I was her pawn, I was powerless," he said in that same sad voice. "I did as she asked and returned to a war that had spiralled to madness."
They were in the midst of a raging battle in a place too decimated for Medusa to recognise.
No mortals in sight, only gods clashing with explosive power.
Medusa saw her head on a pike. Perseus, its wielder, waved it like a staff of death across the battlefield.