All my life I have welcomed every trial the Gods have put before me. Some have been...more demanding than others.
* * *
The sea churns with fizzy brine, harsh waves licking at the shoreline; Poseidon is restless today. It's a shame really, as I was looking forward to fishing.
The Gods are capricious and often cruel but they can also be generous when it suits them.
Still, I find pause before heading back to my cottage; something doesn't feel right. A storm rages over the waters in the distance and I watch as the sea pitches along the shoreline.
"A bad omen," I mumble, feeling that I've had enough. Thunderstorms this violent rarely pass over Corfu. Could it be that someone, somewhere has angered the Gods? It would not be my business even if it were so; I am incorrect.
Suddenly, a small figure is tossed from the thrashing waves; a little girl, crumpled form with a mess of tangled purple hair. The child looks about ten years old and lacks any form of clothing, naked body soaked in seawater and each breath is a sputter; amethyst eyes open wide and then shut again, glazed with pain or perhaps shock.
There's no hesitation as I rush to her side, noting the golden scales that line the girls forearms and thighs, transitioning to ebon hands and feet. Demi-human or not, a child is a child.
"By Zeus! Girl, are you-" My hand extends outward and narrowly does it avoid the snapping maw of a shadowy serpent; an inky creature distending from the clumpy mess of purple locks. A crimson rune gleams upon it's eyeless brow, unlike any snake I've ever seen.
There are four of the spindly creatures, all hissing and snapping protectively; they seem to be an extension of her will, the girl's snappy little pets. When the castaway rouses, she rises on quivering legs before snarling at me with almost animalistic enmity; the hiss she emits is pathetic, a childish mimicry of her hair-born companions.
Perhaps most are afraid of demi-humans; I am not. The Gods protect me, and for some reason I know that our meeting is the work of fortune. This snake-haired child is just afraid and in need of guidance. A wife, children...family. Such blessings were not destined mine to have, yet I can feel a strong paternal bond forming within my breast. "Hush! You aren't frightening anyone. Your hair has more bite than you, little girl."
I reach out and the girl flinches but doesn't flee. She wants help.
"What is your name?" I ask gently, holding out my hand.
Her brow furrows, lips wrinkling into a pout before answering, "Medusa."
"Take my cloak, Medusa, the cold comes quickly and bites deep; do you have a home, child?"
She shakes her head and steps closer, placing her small hand in mine.
"You're safe here, now; the Gods will take care of you." I pull the cloak around her shoulders and look to the serpentine locks, "These are must be your little friends. Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"
The snakes hiss menacingly and Medusa shivers, the muscles of her neck tensing, "They're hungry."
"You must be as well," her sable scaled hands end in sharp, gilded claws, "come, I have food for you - and your little companions - at my home."