'Medusa of Athens' - Part II and III
A fanfiction/retelling of one of the most wrongly interpreted Greek myths
(TW: Sexual Assault. Please read with care. Thank you.)
Part II
Medusa swayed her way to the temple from her home. The sun was rising, the sea reflecting the sky’s oranges and pinks beautifully. A smile touched her lips. Maybe, today would be the day that Athena would close the distance between them. Perhaps Athena was waiting for her to make the move. After all, who would appreciate bravado more than her?
Today, Medusa decided. Today I would say it all.
Just then, drizzle began. Medusa increased her pace, knowing the temple was still a stretch away. Her gut was pounding. A shadow fell on her shoulder. The scent of salt water hit her nose.
“Young lady,” said a hoarse voice. “I have seen none finer than you.”
Medusa turned and gasped. A muscular man with blue robes and dark, long hair towered over her. Yet, he looked more ugly than desirable to her. She clutched her white robe, which told the world that she was devoted to Athena.
“God Poseidon,” Medusa managed to say. “T-thank you for your compliments. I was headed to Goddess Athena’s temple.”
Medusa immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say. Fury shone in Poseidon’s eyes. As he took a step forward, she took a step back, her hands quivering.
Athena, she prayed, over and over. Athena.
Clouds grew darker over her. Huge waves began forming in the sea and crashing over the coast. It seemed that the God grew in size. Medusa fell backwards. Her heart pounded loudly.
“Are you denying the chance to be with me, young lady? Isn’t your name Medusa? Aren’t you the daughter of minor lords under ME?”
“Have mercy,” Medusa said, slithering backwards. “Mercy, Lord, I apologize, I am already devoted to Goddess Athena. ATHENA.”
Thunder crackled. Poseidon fell on her, twisting her arm, making her turn over. Medusa went numb. A golden light flashed somewhere. Poseidon cursed. Momentarily, the weight was removed from her. Through her tears and blood, Medusa saw two great lights clashing. A shrill shriek dominated the air. In horror, she realized Poseidon was coming towards her again as a wounded beast. She tried to stand. A force other than Poseidon hit her then, throwing her back. Poseidon cursed again, his shout shaking the ground. A cold, brutal wave crashed on her.
The last thing Medusa was aware of was Athena’s tear-stricken face.
It seemed that she had been unconscious for ages. The ground was hard below, and there was a constant hissing around. When the memories set in, Medusa sat up straight, horrified.
Was it a dream?
She found herself in a cave overlooking the sea. Looking around, she was shocked to see her cousins – the Gorgons – sleeping in the corner. Perhaps Athena had made them guard her. They had their hair as hundreds of tiny snakes, their face grey and what was generally considered monstrous. The hissing of their snakes filled her head. There was a small pool of water on the other end of the cave. Feeling the thirst, Medusa wandered towards it. Her reflection was not something she was prepared for. That was why the hissing sounded too loud. Her scream was loud enough to disturb the sea.
When her throat could scream no more, her ears caught the sound of sobbing. Even without turning, Medusa knew who the person was. Pain like no other twisted in her heart.
“Medusa,” said Athena, her voice cracking. Medusa turned. When once those blue eyes glittered at the sight of the Goddess, now there was only blankness.
Medusa opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She closed her eyes, hot tears splashing on her cheeks. Whatever had happened had to be a dream. Soon, her body was rocked by hefty sobs. Athena kept apologizing in the background, her eyes as red and swollen.
“If only I had claimed you sooner,” said Athena. “Would that have made a difference?” The Goddess crawled closer to Medusa, whom she had transformed into another Gorgon. “I am sorry, Medusa. I am sorry. I love you. This seemed the only viable solution to drive Poseidon away.” The Goddess gulped. “I could not defeat him.”
Looking at Medusa’s defeated face, Athena grabbed her shoulders, her voice betraying the pain she felt. “Tell me.
“I linger unseen, a shadow in light,
I burden the heart, both day and night.
I grow with your secrets, thrive on your pain,
I bind you in chains, yet leave no stain.
What am I?”
Medusa finally stared in the grey eyes. “Guilt.”
Part III
Slowly, legends about Medusa spread. Some of them claimed that she could turn people into stone just by looking at them. Heroes began to seek her out, to win the confidence and support of people around. Medusa’s peaceful life began to be poked at again, by men. Athena knew she had to do something. Every time she thought of the incident, a knife twisted in her chest. Soon, a quiet trip to Hades was made. As depressing and spooky as the underworld was, Athena knew it was the path to Medusa’s salvation. Hades was hard to bargain with, but the presence of Persephone helped. Promptly, two gilded swords that held the power to never miss a strike were transported to Hades. His part of the bargain would come later.
In the meanwhile, a young and promising hero named Perseus, the son of Zeus, was rising in popularity.
One night, Athena paid a visit to him and whispered his task. He had to behead Medusa as painlessly as possible and bring the head to the Goddess. Perseus did not question the specifics and accepted a shield for the task, a shield that shone brighter than gold, that reflected better than a mirror. The hero set off. Athena helped him whenever she could without making it obvious, until he reached the infamous Rock Island.
Athena watched with bated breath. The day of the final encounter arrived.
Perseus entered the cave in the middle of the day. That was usually the time when the Gorgons slept. The statues of people around did not help his nerves. He gripped the shield tightly, a royal sword hanging by his waist, and tiptoed where Medusa slept. The unevenness of the ground made him fumble. He tripped, making the other statues around him crash to the ground. Then, it was deathly silent.
His heart stopped as he heard the snarl of Medusa, the hissing of her snakes.
The moment she turned to him, he lifted the shield. Medusa faltered. Perseus, his eyes closed, swung his sword, praying his strike was right. He heard a thing plop to the ground. Daring to look up, he saw the headless body of Medusa collapsing. The other Gorgons came for him, but Perseus made a dash, dodging over the fallen statues, managing to take the head of Medusa with him.
When the hero was back in his kingdom, Athena paid a visit to him.
Perseus handed over the head and the shield back as promised. After blessing him, she returned to her abode. In the space of her own, she fused the head of her lover with the shield. As she did the task, she knew it would be one of the deadliest weapons. Any ill-intentioned onlooker would be turned to stone through its use. A maiden in trouble could lift the weapon and fight off the attacker easily.
Athena went on to keep it safely in the temple where Medusa had reigned for months.
Guilt still weighed heavy in Athena’s chest – no longer did she feel as mighty or as wise. Yet, Medusa’s hearty afterlife in Elysium – courtesy of Hades – managed to ease some of it. After three attempts of visiting her, Medusa had finally made conversation with her. It had been short, but it was the only thing that had healed some part of Athena.
“Athena,” Medusa had said.
“I am a bridge that mends the torn,
A balm where wounds and pain are born.
I free the heart, untie the chain,
And bring the sun through clouds of rain.
What am I?”
Athena had bowed her head to the spirit, experiencing the bittersweetness of the moment. “Medusa, the woman who opened my eyes and my heart, the answer is forgiveness.”