Monsters and Mirrors

Act 1

“Really, Medusa, this is a terrible idea.” Stheno sighed from the edge of the marble temple.

“I agree. You can't trust the Gods.” Euryale sneered, kicking the marble fountain with angry force. “I told you we should not have let her build this temple for Athena,” she muttered under her breath as she glanced at Stheno staring at the sea.

Medusa ignored her sisters and spun in a circle in the center of her temple to Athena she designed for the island that had been born and raised on. “Athena is different. She is a woman like us. She is strong and beautiful. And men have to obey her.”

“Men only have to obey Zeus, Medusa, don’t be a fool.” Euryale leaned against a marble column, her heart racing at her sister’s foolish logic. 

Medusa plucked a fig from the tree in the center of the temple. Its purple skin ripped open and the juicy crimson center dripped down her arm before she could put it in her mouth. “She doesn't hide in her corner of the sea from Poseidon’s brutality, like we do! I am tired of living on this rock prison like a monster where the Gods cannot cross our father’s claim.”

“She is a God, Medusa, they are all the same. They don't care about monsters or humans. And she still has to listen to Zeus. She can’t protect you.” Euryale glared in frustration at her sister, ripping the rosemary leaves off of their stems, their perfume suffocating the heavy air. 

Medusa dropped into the low couch, her long body draped along the soft cushions, her long curls flowing in every direction, licking the fig from her fingertips.

“Stheno, tell her. She is too beautiful, too pure, to bow to any God…” Euryale broke off as anger robbed her breath, tossing the herb to the ground.

“Oh, Medusa, your soul is more beautiful than your form. Where you see prison, truth sees safety. ” Stheno softened her voice, stepping towards the temple, “But only you can make that choice.”

Euryale leaned against the column and glared at Medusa who was spinning the lilies floating in the fountain beside her.

“It's not about me! It's about honoring Athena and how together we can build a beautiful world together.” Medusa ignored her sisters, kneeling once more on the marble floor to pray to the Goddess of War, tossing the stem into the fountain.

“The tides will return with a fate already written, sisters.” Stheno returned to watching the sea below.

…..

The smashed temple into pieces among the jagged black cliff, and the statues laid sideways on the ground, the earth beginning its slow digestion. The full moon illuminated the marble columns like daggers reaching to the heavens. The twisted olive trees wound around the decomposing temple, lost to its own private dance of death and rebirth. Perseus walked slowly to the center and bent to one knee, as the vines slithered from his invasion.

“I am here, my Goddess, on the Island of Phorcys, as you decreed.” Breathing deeply, he assured himself she would finally respond now that he had arrived. Perseus looked over his shoulder, the shadows behind him holding their breath as they waited for him to continue his journey.

Staring up into the dark sky, Perseus felt the silence reflect off of the shield he held tightly against his body. The full moon’s glow bounced against the gleaming metal in a lustrous shine as Perseus reluctantly stood once more, the rosemary bushes grinding beneath his feet, filling the humid air with its pungent warning. Perseus peered over the edge of the cliff at his ship anchored below, and then at the dinghy he had rowed to shore that sat silently in the sand.

Perseus stared back into the night sky, waiting for Athena’s voice to appear like it had that night in Seriphos, when Athena had appeared in the wind that first night. 

“Human son of Zeus, your valor sets you apart.’ She had whispered as her form emerged from sound to light. Her golden armor burned his eyes when he attempted to gaze upon her.

“My Goddess, I am humbled by your attention, how can I repay such an honor?” He remembered begging, blinking his downcast eyes. Perseus still felt the shame in his stomach for the tears that had run down his cheeks.

“Perseus, you need only to be the man that you are. However, everyone would know that you are a hero, if you were to kill the monster Medusa.” Her voice wrapped around him in a seductive embrace he could still feel like a woven net.

“Medusa, my Goddess?” Perseus remembered asking, confused at the importance of a sea monster.

“The monster is terrorizing the innocent travelers approaching her island. The army of heroes who have attempted to protect the innocent from her monstrosity have been turned to stone. Her murderous gaze has left an army of stone heroes.” 

“And you think I can defeat her?” Perseus stared up into the moon, silently begging Athena to speak once more.

Silence stretched as Perseus tilted his shield in the moonlight and thought back to her words once more, “With the help of the Gods, Perseus, Human son of Zeus, you will be the Hero all others are forged from. King Polydectes will provide you with a crew.”

“Thank you, Goddess Athena, please allow me to repay your generosity?” Perseus could still remember the way his voice had wavered.  

“Bring me her head, Perseus.”

Frustrated by the silence, Perseus turned away from the night sky. The trail to the castle watched silently as he grabbed his glowing shield tightly to his chest and stomped from the crumbled temple towards his destiny, his sword slapping against his thigh.

Act 2

“Did you see what she was wearing?” The oldest of Athena’s priestesses sneered, staring at her image in the rippling surface of the fountain water, pink and red lotus flowers decorating her reflection.

“I heard that they knew each other from before.” Another priestess called from the low wall of the temple, staring out over the sea. The vines slithered along the arches, the flowers wilting in the poisonous whispers.

“I heard she wasn't a virgin.” One priestess whispered as her fingers carefully twisted the red flowers in her lap into a crown.

Lush green vines grew in careful spirals along the stone pillars, large flowers bloomed in prolific abundance, their sweet fragrance filling the darkening air. The group of young women lounged together in the silence, afraid to leave the veil of safety provided by each other’s presence.

“Where do you think she is now?” The priestess from the wall asked as she watched a ship sail into the horizon.

“Who cares, as long as she is not here. Poseidon never bothered us before she got here.” The priestess making the crown placed it on her own head atop her golden waves.

“That’s not true. This wasn’t her fault.” One quiet voice from the shadows drifted along the temple floor, climbing up the columns.

“Then why did Athena punish her?” A chorus of priestesses replied on cue.

“She went back to her sisters is what my brother heard from one of Apollo’s Priests.” 

“Zeus and Poseidon must have seen the monster in Medusa before we did. They have protected us from her.” 

“Medusa didn’t act like it was a curse to be turned into a sea monster like her sisters.”

“I heard she pulled sailors into the sea by their testicles!” The priestess with the flower crown laughed with a wink as the priestesses blushed at her vulgarity.

“Only a monster would do something so awful! Those poor men.” An odd silence settled over the temple floor, the vines pausing their climb. 

“I liked her.” The timid priestess from the shadows whispered, guilt choking her throat, withering at their feet. “She was nice to me.”

The oldest priestess glanced uneasily at the lilies in the fountains and hushed the girls, “Athena could be listening, I don’t think we should talk about Medusa anymore.” 

Their conversation drifting once more to their gratitude for the honor of being a Priestess of Athena, as the vines slithered along the stone walls towards the trees.

…..

Zeus stared at Poseidon from his chair, glaring in annoyance at his brother standing uninvited in front of him. Glancing sideways at Athena, his lip curled in an involuntary sneer at his daughter. 

“What is this business with a daughter of Phorcys and why am I being bothered with this during my breakfast?”

“Exactly, my King, I told Athena she was being a nuisance to you, pouting like a child.” Poseidon agreed with rigid indignation, crossing his arms and glaring at the enraged goddess.

“Hm, “ Zeus agreed, raising an eyebrow at her hysterics. 

“That is not true, Father!” Athena defended loudly, slamming her fist on the dining table, rattling the empty plates. “Poseidon raped my priestess in my own temple. He humiliated me.”

“She is a daughter of Phorcys, so that means as a daughter of the sea, I can do what I want.” Poseidon interjected.

“She was under my protection!”

“Then you should have protected her better.”

“Athena, he has a point. His claim comes first. I will not intervene and you will not retaliate against Poseidon further. Which means that bitch must stop sinking ships and turning men to stone. This issue is over and I will not be bothered with it again, is that clear?” Zeus returned his attention back to his meal, the issue resolved.

“Yes, Zeus.” They replied in unison.

…..

Perseus paused at the edge of the castle garden, the iron taste of blood stained the air and ash dried on his tongue. Through the reflection of his shield, he scanned the large yard that once thrived with winding fruit trees, now withered with their rotted perfume smothering the wild thyme. The dead trees framed the dozens of men staged into a stone topiary, each a deliberate stage of the hero’s progress. Marble fountains laid knocked from their pedestals beside stone heroes, dead water lilies shriveled and rotten who watched as Perseus crept to the castle’s open front door.

Walking backwards, Perseus avoided the rock obstacles as he kept his gaze focused on the sliver of light through the open door he could see in his shield. Each statue stared back at him, their terror frozen on their stone faces. Hungry vines wrapped around their ankles, crawling around their legs. Birds perched on their outstretched arms, waiting to sing their requiem. Perseus backed his way into the castle’s mouth, curious about the soldiers who filled the garden. 

Had Athena spoken to them, too? 

Thrusting aside thoughts of Athen’s silence and the failed heroes, Perseus slipped into the dark entry way. Deep within the lair screams of torture reverberated throughout the hallways. 

Act 3

Another pain rips through my distended abdomen as a scream tears from my soul as the two bodies inside of my serpentine abdomen navigate positions.

The firelight glows orange and hot, soaking my room in golden warmth. The candle holders line my bed, their flames flickering with every movement of the two other women in the room. As I await my fate, my writhing snakes snap and hiss at each other, another contraction rips across my abdomen and I exhale as black dots dance across my eyes as I focus on the witch’s prophecy.

The old sea witch had predicted I would die this night soon after I returned to Phorcys, after Athena had cursed me with my monstrous form. She arrived on a whale and demanded the spit of one of my snakes. My sisters had been expecting her and had prepared all of her favorite foods. My snakes had watched quietly from behind me while she spit into the gold fire in our kitchen. The shadow of a horse flew in one direction and the shadow of a dragon in the other direction. The fire had raged to red before exploding into black ash.

“On the full moon, Medusa will die and from her blood she will birth two fine sons. The hero will have her head, but her sons will carry her truth to the light.” 

The witch had sat at the kitchen table, eating and talking, and when all the food was gone, she left. 

Another contraction pulses through my body, and I calm myself with the knowledge that my story ending gives my sons their voices. “Even now, the soldier is in the castle and our fate is sealed,” I whisper reassuringly.

My first son will be a fine winged steed that will lead transcendence to freedom. Stheno insists she will not be Pegasus's mother but his faithful guide. I think she already loves him more than she loves the rest of us. I laugh to myself, as I watch Stheno rearrange the hay bed once more. Silk curtains drape across the sides of the wooden crib and thick rugs under the hay to warm the castle’s cold rock floor.

Like my own birth as the only human triplet, my second son, Chrysaor, is human, as well. The Father of the Knife, the old witch called him, the blade in the shadows that walks with dragons. Euryale will make him a fine mother. The shipwrecks at the base of the cliffs are cluttered with trunks filled with the items humans kill each other to possess. Euryale had mined the coast for treasures for the baby boy. His small bassinet was lined with soft blankets and he had chests filled with clothes and toys. 

I feel Euryale staring at me, hovering from the shadows, but she does not approach. She wants to comfort me, I know. But I do not want comfort. I want to die angry, I want my righteous rage to fill the heaven with its fetid curse as I scream to the ceiling. “You made me a monster to justify your own monstrosity, but time will tell my truth, so called gods and heroes. And Poseidon, may you drown in the River Styx, and the fish feast on your entrails in the Underworld.”

My snakes writhe and hiss at my shoulders as I soothe the bulging bodies inside of me, my hands sliding rhythmically across my scales. “Soon, my loves, we shall trade. You shall step sideways through the shadow and our stories will see the light.” 

A hush slithers under the door and along the bedroom floor as I meet my sisters’ tearful gazes one last time.

I slide from my bed as I see my bedroom door begin to inch open, my monstrous form naked against the evening night. My snakes lay gently down my back, holding my spine straight as the soldier backs into my bedroom.