Medusa remained on her knees, the feel of her heartbeat throbbing in her ears and cold sweat misting her brow. Self-preservation yelled at her to flee but movement felt impossible. Ares was Zeus’ top executioner—a killer of millions. How does a person casually face such an existence?

  Ares looked from her face to his offered hand, which Medusa would never dare take. Oddly, she couldn’t pick up the scent of his aura despite sensing it. Perhaps his aura smelled like blood. There were rumours that a single touch from the red god could pulverise an awakened mortal, and a swing of his sword could slay a thousand mortals at once. Just what was Clotho thinking when she joined hands with him?

  Seeing Medusa make no move to take his hand, Ares straightened. “The Moirai said you can kill gods.”

  Panic scattered her thoughts. “I—that–that is not true.” Why did Clotho tell him such a damning claim? “I do not—”

  “You may not know this seeing you are so young, but the Moirai sees the future.” His expression remained stoic as he watched her. “If she says you can kill gods, then it is as true as the earth beneath our feet.”

  He spoke of Clotho reverently, like she was a far superior being… which was strange. Medusa had also noticed the same worshipping behaviour with her aunt and Demeter.

  Holding his hands at his back, Ares peered down at her. “I was honoured to make a deal with the Moirai. You shall be my representative at the Fate of Heroes, but the Moirai will have the claim to your ultimate request when you win. Yes, you must win.”

  “W-what?”

  “From my observations, you are also cursed. This makes things easier,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her question. “I saw your performance at the trial. You show promise.”

  Medusa’s brow twitched as annoyance bulldozed through her earlier terror. Why was he speaking like she had no say in their deal? Yes, she had agreed to receive Clotho’s help, but she wasn’t even present when they made such an important decision about her life.

  “I’m not a child,” Medusa mumbled. “I should have been—”

  “I shall prepare mock games for practice now and then.” He nodded, seeming convinced by his own words. “I intended to speak with Demeter about setting up a portal door, but she’s absent. Nastor should be agreeable since I am taking you as a contender.”

  “Hey…”

  “There is the concern about your weak mortal body breaking during the sessions.” Ares cocked his head, appearing contemplative. “Hmmm.” A frown wrinkled his brow. “Elixirs can help with—”

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”

  A hush fell. Even the crickets in the background and the sound of the night breeze went still.

  Ares’ gaze slid in her direction.

  I yelled at the red god. Raw panic bubbled up. She gripped her knees as sweat slid down her chin.

  “What did you say?” he asked in a low deadly voice.

  I’m dead. He will kill me. No, he can’t. Clotho said he couldn't hurt me.

  Stumbling to her feet, Medusa forced a brave face. “What happens if I do not wish to represent you at the games?”

  “And why would you not wish to?” He asked the question like Medusa were some idiot questioning perfect logic.

  “I was going to represent Clotho. That was what she—” Medusa flinched. Heart sinking in fright, she took several steps back.

  The way he glared at her in… disappointment? “I and Phorcys were never friends, but I assumed he was upright enough to raise a respectful child.” There was a bite in his words, and his eyes were doing that strange glowing thing. Something she said must have triggered him.

  “What d-does my father have to—”

  Medusa muffled a yell when Ares suddenly appeared before her face. Still glowering, he tapped his temple with a finger. “Listen to me, chit. Let this warning sink into your infantile head. You will refer to the Moirai as the Moirai and nothing else when in my presence. Do you understand?”

  Medusa gulped and offered a tight nod. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”

  “Good.” He stepped back. “It is impossible for the Moirai to have a representative at the games. She is not a… deity.”

  “Oh.” But if Clotho wasn’t a god, what was she?

  “I insisted on meeting you today for two reasons.”

  Ares gave her a searching look. Under his scrutiny, it took every effort not to scratch her arm, shuffle her feet or squirm.

  “First, I needed to confirm your cursed state. My suspicion was correct. And secondly…” A sad smile appeared on his face. Like a mask sliding off, he suddenly seemed human. “I came to make an earnest request.”

  Ares’ gaze turned solemn. “Daughter of Phorcys, swear that when you finally learn how to kill gods, you will kill me first.”

  “NO!” Medusa stumbled away, shocked at how vehemently her soul rejected his request.

  I should be excited at the offer, an actual high god willing to be a test run.

  The goal was to kill gods, but if she balked at the mere thought of killing a murder-machine god, just how weak was her resolve? She clenched her teeth, stopping a yell of frustration in time.

  “I understand this is an unfair request to make of a child, but…” His voice faded. Then he shook his head as if to clear his mind. “When you understand, you will eagerly swear that oath to me.”

  He vanished with the wind, and Medusa stood there, staring at the spot for a full minute.

  Did I hear correctly? Did he really plead for death? What sort of psycho—

  A groan interrupted her spiralling thoughts. Akrivi winced as he sat up. Pushing his hair from his face, he blinked around in a daze. “What happened?”

  Then he was on his feet, gaze whipping about in search of Ares. “Where did he go? Who was that?”

  For a second Medusa considered lying, but when none was forthcoming she went with the truth. “He’s my backer.”

  Akrivi looked at her in surprise. “You already have a backer?”

  “Is that not normal?” She twisted the beaded band around her wrist as she thought of it. Clotho had warned her not to tell what god’s blood she supposedly carried, but was the case the same for a backer? Not that she was willing to tell anyone the freakin’ red god had taken her under his ‘house’.

  “No, it’s not normal. We have these ridiculous peacock show contests every three months where gods select students to come under their house. Only three students got picked, and all the pickers were low deities. But you have a backer already.” Akrivi looked genuinely surprised like she had achieved some impossible feat. “He didn’t feel like a low deity though.” He shook his head and whistled.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Medusa heard his silent question but pretended not to. “We should go in.”

  “You seem like trouble. Is it possible to cancel our agreement?” Akrivi asked as he matched her steps. “I haven’t used the stone yet.”

  Most at the dog house treated Akrivi like he was a villain, but for some reason, Medusa felt at ease in his company. Apart from that, a central part of her plan to tame the dogs revolved around him. To get Rico back, she'd use any means. “Please, don’t leave me, Akrivi. I need you.”

  “Curses! That was smooth.” Akrivi groaned and chuckled. “Stop seducing me, May. I already have two doves. But I can make room for you… if you want.” He added with a wink.

  Medusa released a dead laugh. “In your dreams, Romeo,” she muttered in English.

  When dawn came, Akrivi and Lonian headed to the supply post to collect weapons. All the Reds, about sixty from what Medusa counted, waited at the front of the dorm. In five hours, they would scour Agria’s Nest for anything edible and dump their finds in the dorm before heading for classes.

  An unfair system. Because the dogs were at the bottom, they received the smallest food rations and because they received the smallest rations, the Reds had to search the forest; this led to the Reds missing two hours of classes. From what Medusa observed, the Reds were the strongest students in Dog House. If the strongest students were missing classes, the current pitiful state of the house would remain.

  How did Demeter’s mind work? What was the purpose of such an unfair system? Maybe it had to do with a grudge, something about hating insolence and spoiled brats. Or maybe she was just bad at managing a school. From what Medusa learned from Chilion, Drys Valon was barely twenty years old.

  Akrivi and Lonian returned, with the latter casually pulling a cart ladened with weapons.

  “Stand in your groups,” Akrivi announced. Their obedience was instant with the Reds gathering in groups of five to seven. It was uncanny, how well he handled leadership despite his free-spirited personality.

  “Why isn’t Akrivi the head of the dogs?”

  Myrion shrugged as he glanced his way. “Something about the goddess disliking him.”

  Poor Akrivi. Another victim of Demeter. “How do you know that?”

  “Everyone knows,” Chilion chipped in. The bruises from yesterday were gone from the twins’ faces. “He was assigned to the dogs in the same way you were. Can you believe he joined Drys Valon seven months ago?”

  “Interesting.” It was beyond interesting. Becoming the leader of the Reds in just seven months was an impressive achievement.

  “His trial was even more spectacular than yours. A scylla that could move on land.” Chilion wiggled her arms like an octopus and contorted her face. “The most hideous creature I’ve ever seen. Teeth like daggers.” She hugged herself and shivered.

  Akrivi motioned at them to come to collect their weapons.

  Will you continue to remain silent?

  Medusa pressed her lips shut as she walked over and retrieved the only bow and quiver in the cart. Clotho’s link had returned when she was having breakfast—flatbread and decent-tasting garlic stew—but she had stubbornly remained silent.

  I’m like a chess piece on their board. Whatever control I think I possess is an illusion.

  I see you are heading to the Nest. That place is dangerous.

  And you think I don’t know that? Medusa bit the inside of her lip and changed her question. Why did you make a deal with Ares without my consent?

  Medusa knew she was being unreasonable. A regular blood carrier would weep daily in thanks at the privileges she enjoyed, but it stung. Getting dragged around reminded her too much of her first life.

  You are upset, Clotho said.

  You think? Medusa began inspecting the arrows, taking note of their sharpness, the flexibility of the shaft and the state of the fletching. They were perfect, way better than anything she used in her second life.

  I saw a promising thread and I took it. If I had not acted when I did, I may have lost my chance, and Ares would have approached you anyway.

  Medusa recalled the auction house. He had boldly attempted to approach her, and she doubted being in Drys Valon would have made a difference to him.

  I am certain of his loyalty, but I made him take the oath for your own assurance.

  She should be more grateful. Without Clotho, she would have been unable to come this far.

  Sorry for the silent treatment. I just… being left in the dark brought back memories. She tested the strength of her bowstring. Taunt with a powerful draw weight. Better than good. A small smile kicked the corner of her lips. She missed this.

  You do not need to apologise, child. I saw your pain… I understand.

  You do? Medusa wondered about Clotho. Just what does seeing her pain mean? Ares said you’re not a deity.

  There was a pause. I never told you I was.

  When Clotho gave no further explanation, Medusa said a weak, oh.

  Akrivi walked over and touched her tag. “It’s for tracking. Compared to a regular mortal, you have a very light presence. If one does not look, they may not know you’re there.”

  “Good thing?”

  “Bad and good.” Akrivi gave Lonian an upward nod. “He would stay with you in the green zone.”

  Medusa did not argue. Insisting she followed them to the more dangerous parts merely to show off her archery skill was juvenile. “Very well.”

  His gaze shifted to her bow and arrow and lingered. “That’s another problem. Impractical weapon aside, without a pocket, how can you put away what you gather?” He looked to the sky and sighed. “Lonian, she’s your problem. Just make sure to get some fruits at least.”

  Then he and the rest of the group dispersed. Their speed was impressive, the bushes merely shifting to signal their entrance. Medusa guessed she could also hit a similar speed if she used breathing. She inhaled through her mouth and wiggled her fingers in preparation. Would she have to run in like the rest?

  “We are walking in.” Lonian eyed her bow as he led her to the bushes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to put that in my pocket?”

  Medusa shook her head and slung the bow over her shoulder instead. In her second life, she had mastered how to hold her arm in a way that kept the bow from sliding off. “Don’t worry about me. Look, I also have a trusty sword thanks to your insistence.” She patted the sheathed sword clipped to her belt.

  Lonian nodded. “This way.”

  Can you teach me how to create a pocket? Medusa asked as she followed Lonian’s leisurely pace.

  The thing they keep weapons in?

  Yes. But I think only an awakened can create one.

  The anticipation of exploring the forest buzzed in her veins. It didn’t matter if nothing fun happened; simply hearing the call of birds and the dewy smell of the morning air was enough to lift her mood… until Clotho spoke.

  You are already awakened.

  Medusa stumbled to a stop. What? When?

  Lonian paused and glanced her way before looking around. “What’s it?”

  “N-nothing.” She walked ahead on weak feet. What do you mean I’m already awakened?

  During your first life; what happened to you at the temple was a trigger to awaken you forcefully, and it worked. But you and your sisters are children of deities, and manifesting as beasts is unnatural.

  A bitter chill enveloped Medusa. As she hugged herself, she swayed on her feet unable to move forward. It didn’t make sense. How were they certain their trigger would work and she would have the eyes of petrification? Why let her go on a rampage only to make a show of capturing and banishing her to Sarpedon? And her sisters, too. What happened to them?

  A tear tracked down her cheek when she blinked.

  “May?” Lonian was before her face. “Are you scared? There is no need for tears; I can protect you.” Though her fourteen-year-old appearance was quite tall, he still towered over her and probably weighed three times her size.

  Medusa wiped her tears with an arm and forced a smile. “Your assurance has calmed my heart. Thank you, Lonian.”

  He gave her a puzzled look before resuming their trek.

  Were you there? In my first life? Did you see all that and let me suffer? Medusa buried her fingers in her short hair and winced. That so-called curse took my hair, destroyed my face and ruined my body. They deliberately turned me to that.

  I saw glimpses of your future when you appeared at the cliff, and glimpses of a world I do not recognise. The threads of your life seemed familiar but tangled by a power higher than mine. I am sorry, Medusa. I wish I knew more.

  It’s fine. Medusa trudged after Lonian. It’s all fine. They keep giving her more fuel for her rage. Pain against pain; her first life and losing Antonii. But I was the one who killed him in the end. I should point a sword at myself too. If I—

  You spoke of pockets, Clotho’s words severed Medusa from her wretched thoughts.

  I will teach you how to create something even better.

  Lonian flicked his wrist. When his sword appeared, he began hacking bushes as they went.

  Pockets hold weapons, even large wagons for the fiercely talented ones. Whenever Clotho started her lessons, a clear serious tone replaced her usual soft, relaxed voice. But do you know they can’t hold something as tiny as a flea if it’s alive?

  Why?

  Pockets only hold inanimate things. The best an awakened mortal can do with a pocket is to make it larger. Deities, on the other hand, can create dimensions.

  Oh. Medusa cocked her head as she considered this new information. But I am neither a deity nor an awakened blood carrier.

  Yes, you are neither. Very strange and confounding, Clotho mused. Anyway, today you will learn how to create and destroy a dimension.

  My brain is fried from editing this chapter over and over. I had to tap out.

  Still not satisfied though. Smh.

  Anyhoo, until next Saturday