Greece (16): Infant dream. (FTHD - 31)

I’ll explain again here, as some people probably don’t read the Devas story, only the Hunter one. In short: The week was terrible. My PC’s m

I’ll explain again here, as some people probably don’t read the Devas story, only the Hunter one.

In short: The week was terrible. My PC’s motherboard burned out, I got sick (I went to the hospital; yes, it was dengue, and no, I didn’t die. I’m getting better). I was also asked if I had anything wrong with my immune system; the answer is: Yes and no.

I don’t have anything really serious, just a weak immune system since birth. It wasn’t the weakest possible, but it’s less resistant than average.

As for the motherboard I bought, it arrived today. My PC is working again, so I edited this chapter and the Devas chapter using my phone (which was horrible and time-consuming), so there might be some errors. Apologies for that.

I was also asked: “You said you had the chapters done, so why didn’t you post them? I understand getting sick and not writing, but weren’t they ready?”

The answer is: I did have the chapters done, yes, but they were in Portuguese (my native language and the one I use for writing). I write the chapters first in Portuguese and then translate them into English and correct any issues. So, even though I had the chapters, they were in Portuguese, not in English.

Well, I think that’s it. I’ll post the chapter here and leave without making any promises. The last time I made a promise, all of this happened, and I’m afraid of dying next time.

Good night and happy reading!

[...]---[...]

POV: Doll

From beginning to end, we had watched the battle from a distance. The Good Hunter had concealed us and put up a barrier around us. "Just as a precaution" were the words he used. I thought it might be to protect us from a stray attack from the battle, but it wasn’t.

When I saw the emotion in Stheno and Euryale’s eyes, the way they had snarled when Perseus attacked Medusa, I realized it was to prevent any instinctive attack from our side.

Chiron was calm; though there was still concern in his eyes, especially after we realized the nature of Perseus’s items. Divine, not like the Good Hunter’s kin, even though a small part of me thought their divinity was somewhat precarious.

The sickle, especially, Harpe, was something that worried me. I could feel the power contained in that weapon, even though a large part of it was sealed or perhaps lost; I couldn’t say for sure.

Medusa was not supposed to be struck; the wound inflicted by that sickle would not heal without the Good Hunter’s interference. I knew that, just as I knew he wouldn’t intervene. He had said he wouldn’t.

Stheno and Euryale could; the barrier around us was thin, meant to be broken. It wasn’t hard to see, but then the battle would lose its purpose.

The Myth of Medusa

That was the name of the book the Good Hunter had given me a few days after we arrived at Shapless Isle. The myth of a girl cursed by the gods, destined to become a monster.

The reason for the curse varied; there were several versions in the book the Good Hunter gave me, though in all of them, the punishment was unjust and undeserved… The end was also something that seemed immutable.

“Hero Perseus returns victorious to the city of Seriphus. At his waist, the head of the horrid and terrible monster could be seen hanging, wrapped in a linen sack that dripped blood in its wake.”

The gods wanted Medusa dead, and fate seemed to want the same. The end was always the same: unjust and cruel, but always the same.

The hero wins, the monster dies.

A smile appeared on my face as the battle continued and Medusa’s advantage grew stronger. Her technique was, in a way, bestial, reminding me somewhat of the Good Hunter in his youth.

They were similar in a way, possessing bodies much smaller than would be expected for such strength and speed. Much fiercer than they seemed… Much too innocent for the fate awaiting them…

“Fairy tales, myths, legends... fanciful things, aren’t they?” The words the Good Hunter had said came back to my mind. “Immortalized stories, idealized. 'The hero always defeats the monster.' How unreal must such an infantile dream be to give birth to such words?…”

I agreed with him. The hero didn’t always win; a monster was called a monster for a reason. Almost always, to kill a monster, one had to become one.

I had seen such feats firsthand…

Perseus wasn’t a monster, nor did he seem to have within him enough to become one. He had been created and shaped, a hero.

The hero wins, the monster dies.

These words might be true in fairy tales, myths of heroes backed by the divine, blessed by fate. Stories told by parents to get children to sleep at night.

Stories that seemed to come out of a dream…

“You said you wouldn’t intervene…” I whispered, so softly that a calm morning breeze might drown out my words. I knew the Good Hunter was listening; he always would be… “But from the very beginning, you intervened. Didn’t you, Oh Good Hunter?…”

… But, in the presence of the Good Hunter, who would dare dream without his permission?

                                                        ~ Fate/The Hunter and His Doll ~

POV: Third Person

Medusa turned, snarling as she heard the words from a familiar voice to her left. Her hair undulated in the air, thicker than usual, almost alive, like snakes. Her pupils were narrower than ever, like two tiny slits amid pools of frenzied purple.

Medusa’s grip on the Harpe handle tightened, readying for a strike, before her mind, clouded by the carnage and madness of the battle, cleared momentarily, recognizing the target of her attack.

Medusa took a slow, deep breath and closed her eyes. Only after a few seconds did she open them, releasing the air from her lungs slowly.

Gradually, the small scales covering her skin began to recede and disappear. Her hair lost its ‘life’ and cascaded over her shoulders, while her eyes returned to their soft, gentle lilac color.

“I apologize, I got lost in thought for a moment,” she sighed as she apologized. When Medusa went to respond to the Hunter’s question, her face flushed as she realized she hadn’t understood what he had said.

“I… C-could you repeat what you said?”

The Hunter stared at Medusa’s face for a moment before looking away to the side, where Perseus’s unconscious and near-death body lay.

Medusa noticed that the Hunter’s eyes were empty, lacking the illusory and mysterious shine they always seemed to have.

“I didn’t think you’d spare him. Why?” the Hunter asked with mild curiosity. He turned to face her.

Medusa took her time to respond. She turned to look at Perseus, seeing his chest rise and fall slowly and erratically, as if the man were struggling to breathe.

Next to Perseus, the last blow Medusa had struck had opened a fissure in the earth. A smooth cut that extended all the way to the other side of Shapeless Isle, where the waves crashed erratically against each other as they filled the divide that had been made for hundreds of meters into the sea.

A single strike, containing all my rage, sadness, and bitterness… Medusa sighed, shaking her head before driving Harpe into the ground. No, madness was part of it too. It always was; I can’t exclude a part of myself like that…

Madness had once been something born from that goddess’s curse. Now? Not anymore…

“Out of spite.” Medusa straightened her slightly aching body and turned to the Hunter. Her eyes sparkled with insight as she continued. “I spared him out of spite. Spite for that goddess who sent him here, armed with divine items, and still failed to kill me.”

“A different answer than I expected…” The Hunter turned to Medusa and stared at her. Sickly yellow meeting soft lilac. “So, you’ve proved what you needed to prove? Did you find your answer?”

In the midst of the battle, Medusa had seen her body slowly transform as she observed her reflection in Perseus’s shield. She saw every tiny detail, how her hair changed, her skin gained scales, and her eyes grew increasingly insane.

It was the first time she had truly looked at herself in the mirror while in that form. It was the first time she had truly seen the monster she was becoming and would become if it weren’t for the Hunter.

It was like an epiphany. Her thoughts were no longer clouded; the torrential barrage of her madness no longer pushed her, like a small boat lost amidst storms… No. Medusa realized. That wasn’t what was happening.

It wasn’t that her small boat had managed to weather the storm. Even more resilient as it had become, it was only a matter of time before the waves swallowed it.

Medusa realized that the boat was following the storm, using its winds to propel itself, moving between the waves to suffer minimal damage…

“Whether I’m a monster or not?” Her voice came out as a whisper before growing louder, and a faint smile appeared on her face. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter whether I’m a monster or not. I’m still me…”

A frenzied purple met a soft, clear blue, as deep as the sea under the moon.

“I am Medusa. Nothing more, nothing less.”

                                                        ~ Fate/The Hunter and His Doll ~

POV: Perseus

Waking up in pain was something I really didn’t expect. In fact, I hardly expected to wake up at all…

I tried to get out of bed as calmly as I could, or at least I attempted to. My whole body ached, especially my stomach. It took me a few seconds to manage to sit up; I didn’t even attempt to stand, knowing I wouldn’t be able to.

I don’t think I’ve ever been beaten this badly…

I touched my body slowly. I could feel the bandages covering me, and if my nose weren’t broken and hurting, I might have been able to smell the medication beneath them.

Who rescued me? I looked around for a moment. The room I was in looked different from what I was used to… Where was I?

“You’re in my home, kid.” My body tensed at the voice that came from my right. As I turned, I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. “I went through the trouble of patching you up, so do me a favor and don’t throw my work away.”

When I felt the hand release my shoulder, I turned around, this time much less abruptly than I originally intended. As I turned, I could see who my doctor and possibly savior was. I recognized him with just one look.

“The hero trainer?” My voice came out weaker than I expected. Tremulous and fragile. It also hurt a bit to speak.

“I have a name, kid. I’m sure you know it.” He looked at me for a moment before turning and walking… I looked at the horse-like half of the man. He was a centaur, wasn’t he?

He looked at me for a moment before trotting over to a chair on the other side of the room and sitting down.

“How could I not know your name, oh Wise Centaur, Chiron?” I controlled my voice so it wouldn’t tremble. “I apologize for my lack of manners. It seems my head injuries have left some memories confused.”

I wished it were just an apology, but unfortunately, it wasn’t. My head was aching; some thoughts seemed foggy as well…

Chiron was silent. I thought he was waiting for me to speak, but after a few seconds, he began speaking again.

“She spared you.” Something must have shown on my face, probably confusion, because he explained. “Medusa, the young woman you were facing, decided to spare your life.”

That mon—

That young—

“Ugh!”

I pressed my hand to my forehead as an intense pain struck me, clouding my thoughts completely. It felt like my head was being split by an axe while something tried to grow and break free from inside…

That… Medusa… What was she?…

Why were my memories overlapping? Why were my thoughts conflicting?…

I don’t know how long I groaned in pain; it felt like hours, but with the lack of movement in Lord Apollo’s carriage light, it was probably only a few minutes, maybe seconds.

“Ah… W-what was that?” I asked, gasping. My body was cold, covered in cold sweat.

Chiron was the one who treated me; he should know the state of my body better than I did at that moment. If anyone could answer what that pain was, it would be him.

“That was your mind fighting against the curse that Lady Athena placed on young Medusa.” Chiron’s tone was like that of other teachers I’d had. “I thought this might happen, but the reaction was more violent than I expected. It seems that the medicinal herbs grown on the island carry some of Lord Hunter’s power, causing such a reaction…”

The last part of his words seemed more to himself than an explanation for me. Who was Lord Hunter?

Wait?…

“Curse? Ugh!” I groaned again, another wave of pain hitting me. Much smaller than the previous one and this time carrying random thoughts and words.

‘Lack… Person… Faith…’

“Don’t think too much; you’ll just hurt yourself more than you already are.” Chiron advised. “Save your questions and thoughts for later, when you’re recovered.”

I nodded and tried to focus.

“A… where are we, by the way? And why did Medusa spare me?” I could see his dissatisfaction with my failure to follow his advice. Still, the one known as the Professor didn’t fail to answer my questions.

“We’re still on Shapless Isle, kid. As I said, you’re in the dwelling I have on the island.” He continued, ignoring the shock I must have had on my face.

We were still on the island?!

“As for why Medusa spared you, I know the answer, but if you want to know, ask her yourself when you’re able to walk on your own legs.”

Chiron stood up, not waiting for my response to the shot he’d fired at me, and walked out the door, not before saying one last thing.

“Remember to thank Miss Doll, kid. She’s the one who made the medicines I used on your bandages; without them, you wouldn’t have even woken up to have this conversation.”

Then he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my confused thoughts and pain.

[...]---[...]

About the chapter: Well, Medusa has finally proven what she wanted to prove; she found her answer, or at least one of the possible answers she could find. Doll remains Doll, that cute and curious creature.

As for Perseus, I have something planned for the Shinji-Proto.

And I didn’t keep him alive for that; I kept him alive because, given Medusa’s character development, she would spare him for one reason or another. What I thought would fit was simply that she wanted to give Athena the middle finger.

“Your hero didn’t even tire me out. Next time, send two, maybe with more NP’s, bitch.”

Lastly, the Hunter. He always has his reasons; he always does what he does for a reason. No matter how broken, messed up, and shattered the human inside him is, he still exists—that’s something I try to show.

He is more than a monster, but a tiny, minuscule part of him makes him act differently from his relatives...

Good night and happy reading!

PS: The next chapter is an interlude.