"Médousa!" someone cried at the top of their voice, the sound echoing through the house.
The residence itself was a testament to the high status of its inhabitants. An elaborate central courtyard featured large columns, intricately carved with figures of heroes from legends and myths. All doors and windows faced this courtyard, a design that imbued the house with a grand aura. This layout also cleverly served to offer the owners greater privacy and protection from the elements.
Built from the finest stone, wood, plaster, and terracotta tiles, the house boasted fifteen rooms. It included an andron, where the master of the house entertained his male guests—a space forbidden to women, even the mistress herself. Conversely, a Gynaikeion, located on the second floor, was reserved for women and children, allowing them to do as they pleased. Truly, the house was a thing of beauty, its grandeur unmatched.
In one of the upper-floor rooms, a young woman, who had been sleeping soundly, heard her name. At first, she resisted waking, but then the significance of the day dawned on her. She leapt out of bed and rushed to bathe and brush her teeth. She possessed shiny, long black hair that cascaded to her ample behind—her most striking feature. A man could easily lose his heart just by gazing upon it. Her well-defined facial features marked her as a rare beauty. Her eyes were green, vibrant with a twinkling life rarely found in the world. Her breasts were average but ample enough to evoke a feeling of heaven in one's grasp. She was of average height, with long, shapely legs and flawless, snow-white skin.
She had been named Médousa by her loving father, who hoped she would become a guardian for the family, a protector of sorts. It was clear from the name that he had initially desired a son, but once he had a daughter, he couldn't help but love her with all his heart.
After bathing, Médousa donned a blue chiton made from silk. This garment, a wide rectangular piece of fabric, was fastened along her shoulders and upper arms with golden buttons, creating a sleeve-like appearance. She then cinched a belt around her narrow waist, allowing the fabric to blouse out. The ensemble was complete; in it, she looked like a true goddess.
Médousa hurried downstairs to have breakfast with her parents. Her mother was elegant, and her father, a truly handsome man. Observing them, one wouldn't wonder where Médousa had inherited her beauty. Her mother was Aspasia, and her father, Alcibiades.
Médousa lived in Athens with her family, not an ordinary one by any means. They were a well-established noble family, their lineage tracing back countless generations. Athens itself was a beautiful city, even more so for those with means. While the city offered many sights, Médousa had believed from a young age that its most beautiful monument was the Parthenon, built on the Acropolis. This was more than just a temple; it was a tribute to Athena the Virgin.
In Athens, almost everyone worshipped the goddess Athena, and Médousa was no different. As she walked through the paved streets with her parents, she couldn't help but recall the rumor that Athena and the sea god Poseidon had competed to have the city named after them. Athena had obviously won that battle, a fact Médousa was very proud of. Athena was the goddess of wisdom, warfare, strategy, crafts, and justice—qualities that only made her more attractive in Médousa's eyes.
Médousa had always been a pious believer in Athena. From a young age, she had desired to serve the goddess, a longing that led her to decide to become an Athena priestess. She easily convinced her parents to allow her to pursue this path, understanding that her becoming a priestess would further enhance her family's influence among the nobility and the city as a whole.
Despite the city being filled with handsome boys who presented great temptation, Médousa had remained a virgin, as this was the only way she would be permitted to serve her goddess. As if the Fates themselves were guiding her, it turned out her family had long held a hereditary position in the goddess's temple. Just a few days prior, her aunt, a priestess in the temple, had suddenly died, opening the position to their family. With her father's influence, no one dared object when he chose Médousa to become the new priestess. Médousa was overjoyed, unable to sleep for days. This explained why she had slept so long on this particular day—the day she would finally become a priestess.
Even with an inherited position, one still had to prove worthy of serving the goddess. The trials to join the temple were so difficult that some people spent their entire lives merely preparing for and attempting to pass the tests. Médousa was no exception. Since she had desired to join the temple from a young age, she had begun training the moment she convinced her parents of her life's plan.
Her mother gathered the best minds Athens had to offer, all with the singular mission of teaching Médousa and transforming her into the perfect servant for the goddess. She was taught music, poetry, reading, writing, arithmetic, management, politics, and many other subjects she initially didn't find useful. The education heavily emphasized anything related to war. Médousa absorbed this knowledge with ease, even going further to ensure her selection.
Athens was home to many mystics, magicians, sorcerers, and other peculiar individuals. After Médousa mastered her studies by the age of fifteen, she sought out a powerful sorcerer who served the goddess Hecate. After bribing the man with a significant amount of gold and silver, his greed finally won him over, and he accepted Médousa as his disciple. Médousa kept her magical studies a secret from her parents, often sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet with the old man. She had learned all her other subjects with ease, expecting magic to be the same, but she was gravely mistaken. Magic, it turned out, depended heavily on one's bloodline. Those without the "blood of the old ones" could not practice it. Fortunately for her, she possessed just enough of this ancient blood to become a sorcerer, though the limited quantity meant she would never become the greatest, or even close. Still, Médousa persisted, continuing her magical studies.
Afterward, she went on to learn a few more things from various sources. As long as there was someone to teach her, she learned as fast as she could. This day was her time to shine, to rise above all others, to prove she was deserving of becoming a priestess in service to the great goddess.
The Parthenon was already packed with people from all over the city. The moment Médousa and her parents arrived, the crowd parted, allowing them to pass. In the city, everyone knew the authority her father wielded, coupled with a kind heart recognized by the people. They moved to the front, where her parents were led to their seats, and Médousa was guided to stand with the other aspirants aiming to join the temple as priestesses.
Things moved very quickly after this, and before Médousa knew it, she was a priestess in the Parthenon. She had passed all the tests with great ease.
"How did I end up here?" This was a question she had asked herself on countless occasions. She had wondered what she had done wrong and how she could have stopped the tragedy that led her to this place.
Inside a storage room filled with countless treasures from times past, a head lay within one of the display cases. This head belonged to Médousa, priestess of Athena. Her head had been in this room for over five decades, and this was not its first storage place. One of the last times she remembered being happy was when she joined the Parthenon as a priestess, but that had been so long ago that she no longer recalled most of what she had done to end up in the temple.