A/N: Please be advised before reading this chapter, that there is a very heavy part in it. It doesn't go into much detail, but it's important for the story. If you are uncomfortable with reading at anytime, please skip to the next chapter, you won't be lost. This chapter just explains how Medusa became the Gorgon that she is.
The breeze soothed Medusa's new skin as she finally made her way down the invisible path through the woods. She thought about her dream; she was having a hard time ridding her mind of it. She also thought of the afterthoughts she had. She was beginning to doubt herself; this was making it suddenly hard for her to get through the rest of the forest. Ever since the day Athena cursed her, or as she put it, helped her, Medusa hated herself.
Medusa had been beautiful once, a very long time ago. Her skin was healthy, young and smooth. She had dark silky, smooth hair and enchanting green eyes. Amongst her town, she had been deemed the most beautiful of women. She had been a priestess in a temple for the mighty Athena. She managed to capture any man's eye, but having been a priestess, she devoted her love and pledged her virtue to Athena, to serve her. One day, a man with long white hair, on his face and his head - though he didn't look old- approached Medusa. His eyes shined like the ocean on a warm summer day, and his voice was melodic and deep. He spoke to Medusa almost like he was singing. He asked her to come with him and join him. He wanted Medusa to let him show her things no ordinary man could.
Of course, Medusa turned down the offer. She had what she needed serving the Goddess and she would allow no man to take it from her. Though, Medusa knew she was beautiful, she was not vain. She did not use her looks to trick men, nor did she accept any offers braver ones gave when they mustered up enough courage. But there was something about this particular man that made Medusa's heart fill with dread and turned her stomach to stone that sank to her feet. She walked quicker than she meant into the temple. Behind the safety of the walls she quickly ran to her chambers and shut the door hard. Breathing heavy, she made it to the side of her bed and prayed to her goddess.
That night while lying in her bed she dreamt of the strange man. She saw his ocean eyes, but this time there was no warmth in his gaze. His eyes were angry, as was the water within them. She screamed as her lungs filled with water, but her body wasn't submerged. She tried to scream, but all the sound was a gurgling nose as the water filled her mouth.
"No one can hear you, my sweet," the deep voice whispered in her ear. This time, the voice was no longer melodic, and the sing-song tone was swept away. Medusa became filled with terror. She thrashed and squirmed as she tried to break free of the strong hold that was pinning her down. Medusa realized she was no longer dreaming. The white-haired man from this afternoon was in her chambers, holding her down in her bed. She screamed for help, but more water filled her mouth, leaking out from between her lips and pooling behind her head. Tears followed the water, and she felt her hair dampen.
"No one has turned me down before, let alone with such dismissal," he growled. Medusa's whole body shook. The man's hands ran up her leg and underneath her nightgown, causing Medusa to thrash more. She pulled one arm free from the man's grip above her head and slapped him on the side of his head. However, instead of hurting him, it only made him more angry, more determined. He released his grip on her other arm and pinned her firmly down. Medusa gathered the strength she had and spit the water from her mouth into the intruder's face. Surprised, he released his grip on her arms and wiped the water from his face. Medusa made this her chance to pry free from his hold on her and make a break for her door. Her fingertips barely brushed the handle before she was dragged backwards by her ankles. Her face hit the hard floor and Medusa saw nothing but darkness.
When she awoke the next morning, she was tucked in her bed, neatly. 'Twas nothing but a dream. She thought to herself. She pushed herself up from beneath her blankets and winced harshly. Pushing them away, she saw herself lying in a pool of blood, the redness sticky on her thighs. She felt her hair, it was damp, though she had not taken a shower the night before. Her bedsheets were full of water, as well. The dream from the night, was not at all a dream. She got up from her bed and took a swift look in her vanity. Her throat was littered with bruises, a claiming on her milky skin, a beacon of what non-virtue. That is how the Goddess would see it. Not unless I tell her of it first, tell her what happened.
Quickly, Medusa rushed to the alter of the Goddess. She could pray from her chambers, yes, but this had to be a formal meeting. Rushing through the temple halls, she ignored the looks and the whispers of her temple sisters. There would be time for explanations later, after she talked to the Goddess. Bursting through the doors she climbed the steps to the massive marble throne where a marble Athena sat, waiting.
Medusa prayed, prayed harder than she's ever done. She prayed for her to come down from Olympus, to hear her. She prayed for urgency and understanding. She prayed for help. When she was finished with her prayer, she placed a turquoise stone and a tiger lily on the alter and waited.
Medusa waited the whole day and most of the night for Athena to hear her. No one dared enter the alter as Medusa sat on the steps, still bloody and bruised.
She waited until the moon was high in the sky and she could see it through the cut out in the stone at the top of the wall. Medusa stared at the moon until her vison became blurry and her eyelids drooped shut. The soft hoot of an owl woke Medusa, and she opened her eyes the large brown bird sitting on the window. Medusa stood quickly and bowed at the owl. The Goddess must've sent it as a message of her hearing Medusa's prayers.
The owl disappeared quickly, and the marble of the goddess statue began to crack. White light appeared, so bright that Medusa had to cover her eyes. When she pulled her arm away, there stood a very large, very angry Athena.
"My Goddess," Medusa bowed.
"Rise, child." Her voice echoed throughout the alter room. "I heard your message, and now I know why you begged for forgiveness." The Goddess's eyes gestured to the stained gown Medusa still donned.
"Please, my Goddess, please hear me," Medusa begged. "It is not how it seemed."
"No? Then, please, explain it to me how you are covered in blood, loss of your virtue in my temple." Athena stood tall, her voice void of any emotion that would bring Medusa hope.
Medusa explained her encounter with the stranger outside of the temple and her attack from the night. Athena did not move, nor did her face show any emotion. The only thing that gave away her thoughts was the slight twitching of her hands. Even when Medusa finished her story, Athena did not speak.
"And this... man? What was his name?" the Goddess finally asked after a while.
"I never heard him speak his name." Medusa answered, her head bowed.
"Did he smell of saltwater and ocean breeze?"
Medusa raised her head; she didn't give away those details in her story. She didn't deem them important enough for the Goddess's time. "Y-yes." Medusa stammered.
"I see." Athena raised her hand to her chin in thought. "I have heard your story, as well as your prayers. I accept them." She said. Medusa's shoulders fell with relief. The Goddess was accepting the prayers. "But while I accept your prayers for forgiveness and understanding, I can't however allow you in my temple, as my Priestess, no longer." Medusa opened her mouth to protest, but a raised from Athena silenced her. "You must leave and never return to this temple." The Goddess turned to leave, whisps of white light licking at her hands.
"Wait!" Medusa desperately called. "I cannot leave! I have no home, no family to accept me, nothing. I've devoted my very being to you, I've come to you asking for help and you turn me away? Why?" Medusa cried.
"You know the rules of the sisterhood, young one. I cannot allow you into the temple, as my Priestess, no less, without your virtue." The Goddess answered with sad eyes.
"I cannot show my face in this city, no one will accept me. This is my home, I'm defenseless without you, my Goddess."
Athena thought about her next decision hard. "Very well, then. I cannot let you live defenseless." Athena made her way down the marble steps and offered hand to Medusa. Together, they walked out of the alter room and through the temple. Medusa looked at Athena, feeling smaller than she's ever been. She didn't allow herself to hope for anything, for she did not know what would happen next. Athena led Medusa to the mouth of the temple and turned to look at her. "I am a woman of my word, and you will not be left defenseless, alone in this world. It is unforgiving; however, I am not." With those words, Athena kissed Medusa on the crown of her head.
As soon as Athena's lips touched Medusa's hair, splitting pain erupted in her head. Medusa screamed and backed away from the Goddess. She cupped her hands over her ears and screamed loudly. Her once smooth skin cracked and became bristled with scales. Her hair, once silky, long and dark, now matted from being unwashed and dirty, transformed with serpents. Medusa's screams became growls of pain and she fell to her knees as she watched her hair fall from between her fingers onto the stone steps of the temple. The transformation came with so much pain, Medusa wished for death, however these prayers were not answered.
When the transformation finished, she looked up and saw the Goddess was no longer there.
Medusa screamed.