Book I

The seafoam kissed her face.

Winds of Zephyrus’ grace

billow the young woman’s tunic

as she stands on the edge

of the Acropolis,

overlooking the Aegean.

Young maiden Medusa

had been gifted highest

honors of old Athens.

She had been proclaimed as

priestess of Athena.

For many, the office

would be foul auspice;

for such lofty stations

beset degradations

of spirit by hubris.

Fair Medusa was not

among the lot of “many”.

Ever just and temp’rate,

she kept proper conduct

in divine accordance.

Through the eyes of Bubo,

her most cherished pet owl,

Great Athena was pleased.

Medusa kept the rites,

conducted rituals,

and offered wise counsel.

It was not long before

citizens of Athens

raised a statue to her.

Earnest, reserved, grateful;

met such adoration

humbly with grace.

Yet the eyes upon her

gazed with such intentions

that invite attention

of one Aphrodite.

“Who is this girl?” she asked,

“she provoked the passions

of all Athenians.”

Then the high lady love

cast her brewing ire

upon magnificent,

peerless lady wisdom.

“Such beautiful creatures

are wasted in service

to your chaste scholarship!”

Aphrodite shouted.

Great Athena smirked,

for Venus’ envy

could not hide in her eyes.

“Hush thy haut,” she replied,

“Lady Love, your antics

would make a monster of her.”

Affronted, Aphrodite

stormed away, dictated

by her fickle impulse.

Yet Athena lingered.

Her own words gave her pause.

Later that very night,

Athena took the form

of a shambling old crone.

Old Athens’ citizens

were none the wiser to

the goddess’ presence.

The women most envied

Medusa’s braided locks

and the men enraptured

by her slender figure.

“I know this spell too well,”

Athena whispered.

She found her way to

city’s acropolis,

where her grandest temple

stood in all its splendor.

On its front step lingered

the young women whom all

of Athens was transfixed by.

Athena’s blue-grey eyes

met the golden yellow

orbs of Medusa which

pierced through shade like a torch.

“Greetings sweet grandmother!”

Medusa said as she

gingerly approached what

she presumed to be a

wayward city elder,

“If you are lost, then come;

take shelter from Nyx here,

palace of Athena,

till Helios’ first light

make true your journey home.”

That is when the old crone

removed her hood, revealed

herself in full splendor:

goddess’ divine light

was banishing the night.

“Your goddess is most pleased

with your hospitality,”

Athena said to her.

“Athena!” Medusa

excitedly proclaimed.

The priestess leapt from step

and rushed to her god’s side.

“Come and see the wonders

done in my name,” she urged.

As eager as a child,

Medusa took the hand

of Athena and led her to

the statue of herself,

which stood before Athena’s.

The monument was meager

by fair comparison.

It was not an affront,

and even if it was,

the goddess of wisdom

recognized that was not

Medusa’s own doing.

She reservedly smiled

at her priestess’ joy.

She was a happy child,

impassioned by reward

for her worthy conduct.

But she was not goddess

of knowledge for nothing.

Athena knew too well

these first steps along the

well-trod path of ruin.

“Be happy Medusa,”

she said, “happy in deeds

and not in your acclaim.

Though you may meet it with

an honest heart and grace,

baleful gaze of masses

can easily infect

even the most earnest

souls with foul vanity.

You make me proud, child.

Always allow your eyes

to look upon others

in good faith and reason

See them as the living

beings blessed with the gift

of miraculous life

and the wonder of thought,

that is the work called ‘people’.”

Though reverent attention

she had paid, Medusa

found herself overwhelmed.

The girl wasn’t certain

what to do with those words.

“If the statue offends-,”

she began to say but

was hastily cut short.

“No! My sweet girl, be proud,”

Athena insisted,

“Remember who you are:

a caring, competent

woman with true power.

You are more, also less

than an idol of man.”

That is when the goddess

made manifest a shield

polished to such a state

that one could see their face

in the shine’s reflection.

“Look upon this image

to witness your true self,”

Athena instructed

as she handed the shield

to perplexed Medusa,

“You don’t lose sight of her.