A blind demigod dares to flee Athena's burning claim and obsessiveness-only to be saved by Medusa, the monster he was raised to fear.
What begins first as an irritation of each other, fear, hatred, and fake romance to defy the Athena spirals into so...
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"I hate it here!"
"Pray Father doesn't hear you."
I steal a glance at the door, and catching the familiar shadow of the new presence entering the hall, I sigh. "As if you've ever liked it, Rhodes."
I wish I could see more than just dark silhouettes on those artful tiles, to see what people looked like, to see myself in those eyes like an explorer lost in a dark cave. But that is why wishes were not horses. Not for beggars like us.
Staying here isn't helping. I have long since lost count of the countless events Father always dragged us through all these years. His obsession with regaining his lost seat at Olympus irks me to death. In this cruel game of chess, we are not sons and daughters anymore.
We are pawns.
A gentle head rests on the back of my shoulders. "Is this always your safe haven each time you want to escape all the noise? In the hall of the Forsaken?" Rhodes whispers, teasing, ever the affectionate elder sister.
"It is the only place in Olympus I feel I belong," I lean my face close to hers, letting myself feel and absorb the warmth, since it is all I can do. Feel.
"In the hall of the Forbidden, rather than that of the Perpetuals?"
"Who cares about those boisterous, self-styled immortals that rule Olympus? These-" I point my walking stick at the statues with their shadows looming over me. "These are the true heroes who dared to challenge their rule. Run me through their names again, starting from the first statue, please?"
She lifts her head from my shoulders with a sigh. "You are impossible. Do we really have to do this every time?"
"Pleaseee?" I pout, kissing her hand repeatedly.
"Alright. Fine, fine." She snatches her hand back from my lips and guides mine along the lined-up statues. "Cronus, Ares, Niobe, Hercules, Atlas, Prometheus, Tantalus, Sisyphus, and then..." She squeezes my hands as we halt before the final statue. "...your favorite."
An electric shiver bolts through me as I tilt my head up. Not my first time here, yet it gives me this feeling each time I come here. I can't see it, but I can feel its petrifying gaze, cold and unforgiving, pierce me, turning my heart slowly to stone.
Medusa.
Chills.
Somehow, I am glad that by next year - when I turn twenty-five - I will be free. Free from this city. Free its eerie grip. Never again to return to gaze upon the face of Olympus' greatest fear.
"I don't think she is a monster," I murmur.
Rhodes huffs. "Can we not please have this debate again right now?"
I ignore her. "I still insist that this must be one of the schemes of those shameless Perpetuals. What haven't they done?"
