The Wielder of Death Magic

Medusa was a revered and beautiful maiden, born by the sea, her story is one of resemblance to olden romantic affairs. Where a young maiden falls in love with a hero of another land, he arrives, slays demons plaguing the world at said time, and is revered by the town’s folk. Medusa, known to the villages as the prettiest in town, a lady of unknown origin – no mention about her parents was soon the subject of idle gossip. Her parents, those who found her washed ashore as a babe – were happy to have raised her. Her beauty stuck many budding new poets and artists – she was as any heroine was in a fable – an unreachable mount to climb, a gentle heart breaker. Through the many offers of courtship and unruly advances – there was but one hero who managed to steal her heart, Perseus. Perseus, as in any good old hero was, adventuristic and full of energetic vigor. His charm and easy expression took the heart of many maidens, and so, the hero arrived to slay and though he expected to capture and leave the isle – tis the hero’s heart that was captured, and the perpetrator – Medusa. She, fairest maiden on the isle, spared no second thought for the hero. She didn’t care, her gaze and mind fixed on the secret of her origin, the sea. Perseus led many campaigns, from importing the more refined tasting food to showering the maiden with flowers and jewels, but naught seem to catch her attention. No, save an ingenious moment of imagination on a rosy evening.

Wandering the shore, checking the sea, looking at the sand – such as Medusa’s routine on moments freed from work. She stood in the water, her dress slightly raised, her hair tied in a messy bun, and the orangish backdrop resplendent upon her mild freckled cheeks. For another time, Perseus made his way to the beach – found himself enchanted by a maiden who didn’t once dare blinked a glance in his direction.

Tis there, the quick witted Perseus called, “-o’ lovely maiden, thee who stands peacefully before the setting sun,” she turned with a melancholic expression, “-as night settles, I vow to set out on a quest,” he firmed, “-a quest to learn about thy origin, a quest to answer thy deepest desire,” and it was set, the hero skillfully found her weakness – the ever burning desire for an answer. It was there after the hero promised the moon, that her heart swayed – they spent months, he’d venture far into the deepest part of the sea seeking answers – she would stroll along the shore, waiting for her lover to arrive. Perseus and Medusa’s story was quite a topic for local gossip, a hero falling for the isle’s fairest maiden and her rejects and his persistence – it was without a doubt the making of a great love story. Alas, tragedy was yet to strike – and there, on a similar cold evening, Perseus set out on his quest to never return again, for you see, he had sinned, fallen in love with another maiden, a rival if not superior to Medusa’s beauty; Andromeda.

Tales of Perseus’ quest in slaying a sea monster to rescue Andromeda were quick on the lips of bards and on the flutes of traveling poets.

Eventually, Medusa’s fear actualized when on one of her routine walks along the shore, came upon a bard who recited the adventurous tale of Perseus and the lovely Andromeda. It’s said she cried tears of blood, forever closing her heart and vowing to serve Athena. The gracious goddess heard her tale and accepted Medusa as one of her priestesses. Ever since the betrayal, coyness, and female charm associated with Medusa slowly tumbled into the gossip of a grotesque monster, eventually reaching a known truth – Medusa wasn’t the lovely maiden once revered by the townsfolk. Jealousy, envy, hatred, and disgust, such were poison that slowly tainted her heart and soul. Life after was nothing but filled with hardship and heartache – as a priest of Athena, Medusa was often tasked with trials and barriers to overcome – those of which increasingly intensified.

On a cold winter night – at a time when the town slept; Medusa, overwhelmed by constant teasing, subject to insult, and forced to endure unjustified hardship, was slowly led by a mysterious voice to a place she’d only vaguely remember. A crescent moon reflected against the peaceful water, the sky was clearer than before – each star mapped onto said reflection, the undeniable call of the sea, the feeling of intrigue and mysticism had her feet swallowed in shallow water – a distorted shell of her outline sank her heart, she fell, dowsing her dirtied dress in salty cold water, a fright tied her hands in prayer, it was there, in a moment of complete misery and despair that a figure rose from the sea. A bearded old man, announcing himself as Poseidon, God of the Sea. Her heart dropped, the god shared no ill-will nor did he care about her appearance, he simply smiled and extended a helping hand. The maiden accepted and was led into a world unknown to her – the world under the ocean, a place of deep blue and color, a cold place, one sharing the sentiment of her cold heart, at the center, a melancholic god – a strong divine presiding his throne. A moment’s weakness, enviousness to have what Andromeda stole, and the want of having what was hers return manifested in a night of passion. She frequented the god, became part of the sea for she had found where she truly belonged, the mystery of her birth soon vacated her mind; Medusa’s thirst was quenched, or so she thought. Breaking her vows of celibacy begot an earnest response from Athena.

.....

Medusa’s hair withered into snakes, her body aged considerably, her skin turned blue and green, and anyone who looked at her turned to stone. Her first victim was those closest to her, family – and soon, was exiled to a faraway island, left to wander the shoreline and enact her vengeance on those who’d wronged her. Many were lost to her curse, and soon, Perseus was given a new quest, kill Medusa. It wouldn’t be long before he cruelly sliced her head and presented the latter before Athena, who by which had the priestess’ head carved into her shield and bronze armor. Medusa’s story is neither sad nor joyful, for it was but the life of one of many ancient prominent figures.

Igna’s office charged, flickers snapped at nearby metallic objects – Medusa covered in his shadow, her head lowered to the floor. Minerva was yet to forget, she stepped, throwing the balance of the room into chaos, “-Stop,” said Igna coldly, “-enough,” purple sparks flew across the pupils.

“What is she doing here?”

“She’s my aid.”

“Right, having a cheater come into the inner circle tells of what type of king you are.”

“Shut it,” he fired, “-Minerva, you know the truth, accept it.”

“What truth?”

“THAT YOU PROTECTED MEDUSA!”

Silence, Minerva meaningfully glanced at Igna, changed her target to Medusa, and left, slowing her pace at the doorway and relaxing her shoulders, “-I will be at the temple,” the door locked, Medusa dropped onto her knees and panted, her forehead dropped against the floor in an unpleasant muddled thud, “-come now,” he dropped onto his bottom and tapped her back, “-she’s gone, raise your head,” something felt off, her aura changed, the long flowing hair thickened, her skin color turned blue, “-MASTER,” she rose a hallowed expression, part of her visage decomposed, her lips dropped, “-help...”

“Yeah,” *snap,* her transformation halted, a pair of tiny wings manifested above his open palm, they flapped a stream of golden sparkles, “-why must you make me worry?” in a simple motion, Igna overwrote Athena’s curse, instead, challenging the power into a necklace, “-there, the power petrification.”

“The curse, it’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

“How can you be so nonchalant?”

“I just am,” he stood and extended a helping hand, “-told you, we’re comrades.”

“I should leave. I’ve betrayed lady Athena before, I must not repeat the past...”

“Misunderstanding,” he said, “-tis a matter of misunderstanding. Leave it to me,” a tap on the earring, “-éclair, have an escort ready for Medusa.”

Her solemn expression couldn’t comprehend the king’s orders, “-why escort?”

“To keep you around. I’m not exactly fond of having runaways.”

By church, Athena referred to a holy site used by devotees; the structure was built in a manner where nature was emphasized, and anyone was free to pray to whoever they wished. Minerva’s sternness all but amplified, she scared many potential worshippers just by being at the center of the room, “-what was that there?”

“Pardon?”

“You know what I mean,” firmed Igna, “-playing cat and mouse won’t help anything. The curse was cast again, why is that?”

“I see,” she exhaled, “-here I thought Medusa was finally able to be freed from her guilt. The curse’s not exactly a curse, more of a defense mechanism. Medusa asked for forgiveness, I purposefully had her undertake challenging tasks and strive to be a better version of herself. Sadly, there’s so much I can do – her own guilt brought about a persecution complex – she sees herself as nothing more than an option, love is a powerful thing,” her grey iris turned to a marble statue, “-all because of Perseus and Andromeda – there’s no self-confidence.”

“The anger was?”

“To test and see if the guilt lingers. Should have kept watch, I’m afraid the curse’ been unleashed.”

“Not going to happen,” he said, “-she’ll be fine. No more trial by fire, I’d prefer a tête-à-tête, well, who am I to say, Medusa’s thy priestess, not mine, patron goddess of Glenda.”

“I apologize for bringing his majesty into our drama.”

“Don’t worry, long as you promise to talk it out.”

“No promises on resolution.”

“Long as an effort is made, I’m pleased. Now, a serious affair.”

“Which is?”

“We have a guest at the dungeon, one who tried kidnapping prince Julius’ twins. He had this,” the device exchanged hands, “-does the crest bring memories?”

“Goldberg...”

“Correct, could be a fake crest or perhaps true, who knows.”

“The prisoner?”

“Catching my drift?”

“Right,” Minerva’s sternness grew into a menace, “-leave the patient to me,” she rubbed her hand connivingly. It wouldn’t be later in the evening that news arrived at the King’s desk, “-majesty,” beamed Minerva, “-the man was a treat to question.”

“Might I ask if the man’s alive?”

“Yeah, he’s alive, no question about it, last I checked at least. No matter, the man is a spy working for a PMC employed by the Goldberg dynasty. Seems the family’s negotiation with Sadia, the captive was a direct student of the King of Greenwhoot, first warrior of Sadian, King Ezel.”

“Uncovered a spy ring?”

“No, he was adamant in keeping that part secret, we tried but nothing happened. Although, he did mention getting his orders through an encrypted source.”

“Tell me, General, what’s the plan?”

“We wait,” she smiled, “-I’ve ordered for a rehauling of the army and naval forces, as for the air force, their abilities are in thy hand.”

Up north, a fleet of sea-based motherships moved towards Hidros, an invisible force of tens of thousands that would have remained undercover if not for a certain returning jet.

Time read the next day and the office imploded, “-master, we’re being invaded!” cried Yui atop her lungs.”

“Invaded, how?”

“By sea,” she said, “-we spotted the Krestonian crest on one of the motherships.”

Minerva was forced into action by moving part of the naval force to a remote island, thus marking the start of a holy crusade against Kreston.