Medusa: Fate's Game Ch. 08

And she was going to ruin all of it.

The sun started to rise on the seventh day of their respite. The morning air was cool, but not cold, and the breeze was equally as inviting. It was a good morning.

"Alright, untie her," Darian said. The warrior was standing up, leg healed; Fate's Children healed damn fast. He was wearing his tunic and sandals, nothing more. Same for her. Good.

Medusa slithered up behind her and started on her bindings.

"Don't kill him," she said.

Otrera looked over her shoulder at the serpent. The woman was frowning at her, and her snake eyes were staring straight into her. Yellow snake eyes with long, black slits down their center. Scary.

"I won't kill him." But I'll bring him near it. "Figure out what I want yet?" At last, with hands unbound, she brought them in front of her and massaged her wrists. She squeezed the air, felt the Fate's Child muscles of her forearms shift and flex, and felt her fingers tighten against her palms.

"I assume a duel." Darian shrugged, and pushed away from the cliff of their hidden little canyon.

"Close. Fist fight."

"A fist fight?"

"Yes." Otrera motioned for him to follow, and the two of them stepped further out into the open grass South of their hidey-hole.

"... a fist fight."

"Yeap." She tried to hide her smile.

"We have a fist fight, and you tell us where Andromeda's getting her sacrifices?"

"Yeap."

All of them looked at her with a raised brow. The four of them stood in a row at the top of a small hill, heads tilted. She'd already walked down it, and waited for Darian at the open area below. Empty space, grass, no rocks or bushes or trees nearby, and flat land. Perfect.

Darian looked to Medusa, who shrugged in return.

"She says she won't kill you," the serpent said. "I trust her... I guesss."

Chimera nodded. "You can trust her word."

Aw, the big guy standing up for her. She grinned at him, and he managed a tiny smile.

Darian sighed, and started to walk down the hill toward her. But Otrera could see an edge of a smirk in his eyes. Try as he might to deny it, the man liked a good fight.

She rotated her head and neck about, twisted her waist and hips a bit, prepped a minor stretch for her legs, and cracked her knuckles. Darian just waited, cocky smile showing through more and more. He had a right to be cocky, having beaten her so many times already.

She stepped closer, and raised her fists.

Darian, chuckling now, put a foot closer to her, and raised his fists as well.

"Bellerophontes. Or I suppose I should say Darian. Your new name for your new life."

"That's the plan," he said.

"Tell me, how's your wife?"

"What?"

She drove her fist into his face, hard. The feel of skin splitting against her knuckles, his skin, sent shivers of joy up her spine as the man rolled backward through the air and crashed onto the ground.

Let's see how well your group holds together with a little knife twisting.

"I noticed you and Medusa are quite close. Does your wife Philonoe know? After I killed her sister, I thought maybe you'd at least take a trip to tell her."

Darian was up to his hands and knees, but before he could get any higher, she kicked him in the chest. He went up a couple feet into the air, spun over once, and fell onto his back.

Gods damn it felt good to kick with the strength of a Fate's Child.

She looked up the small hill to the others. Medusa's scary snake eyes weren't so scary when they were wide with shock. The serpent turned to Pinna, and the two started talking, maybe arguing, about Philonoe. No doubt the satyr had known, but she hadn't told her snake friend. Too bad.

"I'm hearing that you've changed, 'Darian,' from the cocky, fame-obsessed degenerate you used to be before Zeus shot you out of the sky."

She jumped at him, and tried to land her knee onto his chest, but the bastard managed to roll back and onto his feet, leaving her knee to collide with grass. Darian didn't follow up on the opening though. He was clutching his chest, breathing hard, blood dripped down his split cheek, and the look of panic on his face was unmistakable. Not panic for her attack though, panic for her words. He even looked from Otrera up the hill to Medusa; mistake.

On him again, close, elbows in and fists up. No quarter for this cocky bastard, he deserved pain, and an uppercut against his jaw brought it. He flew back, but managed to land on his feet. More blood dripped from his chin, and each drip sent a flutter of joy up Otrera's body.

"You are a dirty, underhanded, mani—"

"You're the one keeping secrets, bastard." She swung out with another punch, but Darian managed to get around it and finally throw a return punch. It hurt, catching it in the forearm, but better that than the face.

"It was a gift from Iobates! I married her because it was expected of me! Forced upon me by circumstance!"

He was getting angry. Perfect. His words were loud enough for Medusa to hear, but yelling to the serpent created opportunities in the fight for Otrera.

"I couldn't give two shits about why you married her. I just think it's interesting that you never told your new love."

He winced. "I'm trying to leave that life behind. Completely."

"Yeah well, ghosts of the past and all that." She feinted a punch, got in closer, and drove her foot forward, straight at his chest. It was a move he'd normally dodge, but panicked eyes gave him away, and her sandal crashed against his gut.

He rolled backward, but managed to stop on his feet again, breathing fast and back slouched with one arm holding his gut.

"Philonoe is a relic of that life! And just like her sister — who you killed — Philonoe is a vile thing. I just want to forget her and leave it gone. Leave it all gone and buried."

"Is that so?" Otrera looked over her shoulder at Medusa. The serpent looked very worried, knuckles of one hand at her lips, and eyes snapping between her and Darian. "Seems like you've been burying secrets, Mr. Hero. Shame if someone dug them up."

"... don't."

"Pinna," Otrera said, smile on her face so big she could feel it in her cheeks, "tell me, does anyone know why Proetus ever made a nobody like Bellerophontes, before the Chimera incident, into a guard captain? You know why Proetus ever gave him a chance?"

"He... he was a skilled warrior. He'd gone to Proetus to ask for forgiveness for a crime. He became a member of his local militia for penance, worked his way up the ranks, and—"

"So you don't know what crime he committed?"

The satyr blinked, looked to Chimera and Medusa, and then back to her. "... no."

"Don't!"

Bellerophontes was on her like lightning. His eyes glowed white, bright, until she could see nothing but white fire in them.

For a moment, she thought she could hear something roar.

She sidestepped, but Darian wasn't looking to dance. Instead of bringing up his hands to guard his obvious opening, he just pushed against his momentum into the ground, and pounced at her. His hands reached for her face, and she had to grab his wrists.

A moment later, she was on the ground, back to the grass, while the crazed man snarled at her from above. His strength was unreal, but his weight was easy to deal with. He couldn't reach her. If he could, she was sure he'd be clawing out her eyes.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," it said.

Her own eyes glowed white, but not with the fury she was used to. This was different. This was cold on her spine, self defense against the sudden firestorm she'd unleashed.

She brought her feet underneath him, and pushed both against his chest to send him back through the air. Get up, quickly!

On her feet, she had a split second to sidestep again as the man dived past her. And when she turned to face him, he was already running for her again. He was a small warrior like her, agile, fast, and furious. In their past couple of battles, her anger had been her undoing — or at least, certainly hadn't helped. Maybe she could use his anger against him?

Not likely. He was too damn fast. On her in a split second, he took a swing for her face, and she had to duck underneath it, only to have to roll to the side to avoid getting a knee in the nose. But each time she dodged, he was on her again, screaming. The strain and power in each punch showed as bulging veins, and for a moment, she thought it was Chimera taking a punch at her.

But she was a Fate's Child too. She brought a hand up to catch his, took a step back to go with the momentum, and forced his hand down while forcing his elbow up with her other hand as she sidestepped. With a foot put in front of his, she managed to flip the bastard and get him onto his back, so she could drive her knee down at his face.

Bellerophon didn't stop though. On his back, head toward her, he reached up to catch her when she got her knee over his skull, and brought her down with a twist. He got one arm around her leg, and got his weight onto half of her, facing her. And he started punching.

Punches hurt. A lot. Knuckles and bone and force. She tried to get free, but with his assail of punches, all she could do was block with her forearms. Each hit blinded her with a lightning's moment of pain and risk of a broken bone. Bastard was furious with her, she could hear it in his grunts and roars with each punch that fell on her like rocks.

She managed to get her weight onto her ass so she could use her free leg to kick him in the stomach. It sent him into a halfway spin over the grass, and her in the opposite direction. And again, the moment she was on her feet, Bellerophontes was already up and lunging at her. His eyes were frenzied, and his teeth were bared.

He left an opening. Maybe he hadn't expected her to get up so quickly, but he came at her foot first. Stupid. She got beside the kick and drove her palm into his chest. Determined, he swung back up to his feet and threw himself at her again, a full pounce. Bringing her arms up wasn't enough, as he managed to get one of his hands around her wrist, and tried to wretch her guard open.

So close, she felt her heart stop when the man's gaze caught hers again. One moment a smiling, handsome man, the next, a barbarian gone berserk. Is this what Pinna was talking about? Rage that had always been there? This wasn't the man she'd fought several times before, this was a crazed animal who was going to rip her arms off.

He brought a knee in from the side and crashed it against her waist. A snap and wretch of pain told her a rib was broken. But it also meant the man had his leg up, and she managed to get a grip on his ankle, and yank. She was strong, he was light, and she managed to get him a good twenty foot through the air before he landed, sliding in the grass again.

"The whole time I've been your prisoner, I've heard from everyone about how great you are. Medusa, obviously, but even Pinna and Chimera have compliments for you. Say you've changed from the angry bastard you used to be. Look at you now!"

She was playing with fire. The monster was shaking from head to toe, and his fists were tight enough she could see the veins of his arms from so far. He got up slowly, fingers digging deep into the dirt, before he turned to face the queen with murder in his eyes.

"Don't."

"But I guess it'd be against your new image to have people knowing what you did? That you killed your brother with your bare hands, for no reason at all?"

She waited for the moment of joy, the moment of satisfaction, the moment of elation from ruining the man and his world. She held her breath and waited for the spring of bliss to fill her from tasting revenge. Nothing. Nothing at all. Only bitterness on her tongue, and an aching cold in her gut.

Silence fell upon them all. Only the gentle, pleasant breeze stirred noise, grass upon grass. Otrera looked to the viewers of the brawl, and their shocked faces, dropped jaws, open mouths, and wide eyes. Even Chimera looked surprised.

The monster didn't move. He stood there, eyes glowing, body a statue, but the rage that poured off of him was unreal. He was shaking, and each breath had turned into a snarl.

"... h-how do you know that?" Pinna said.

"Andromeda knows a lot. Quite the scholar, quite the sorceress. I'd thought she might be lying, but apparently not. Know thy enemy, she said." Otrera breathed deep, leaned her weight from one foot to the other, and readied herself. Bellerophontes still wasn't moving, but she could see a flicker of movement in his eyes when she shifted left and right.

Bellerophontes at last raised his hands, one in a fist, one open, and started to take slow steps toward her. She'd seen similar looks, in those who gave into the need to murder with their whole being. The look of someone willing to sacrifice their life, just to kill someone.

Too late to stop now.

"Did I ruin your little fantasy, 'Darian?' Did you really think you could just not mention the horrible things you've done, and everyone would accept this new you? Will your little group still be able to, when they realize you're a psychopath?"

He stopped at the last word. "... what?"

"You can apologize about what you did to me, and say you regret your actions, but what does any of that mean from a lunatic who's been killing people since he was a child? Who's killed family, at no provocation?"

He looked down at his hand where his blood lined it. Then back to her as the white in his eyes started to fade.

"You saw Perseus," she said. "And you must have noticed it. The man's a psychopath. He's also a Fate's Child, chosen by the Fates themselves, like you, unlike me. I remember the look in your eyes when you slaughtered my tribe. It wasn't the look of a man at war. It was the look of a monster, someone completely at home in a bloodbath. The same sort of look Perseus has in a fight."

In her mind, she'd imagined destroying the man with her words. They'd fight, hit each other a few times, but with each word she would release upon him, his strength would waver, his endurance would falter, and she'd break his nose. She didn't want to kill him anymore; that was progress, right? But just because she didn't want to kill him didn't mean she didn't want to hurt him.

Or so she thought. But as the man's eyes returned to normal, and his heavy gaze fell down to the grass, the joy of it all faded to black. In the wake of her victory, all that was left was ashes.

He raised his gaze, and for a moment, she thought she was looking into the eyes of a dead man. "... I don't... remember their... fa—"

"That's enough!" Medusa slammed her tail against the ground, and slithered down to get between them. Soon several layers of snake scales were between Otrera and Darian, and the serpent faced her with bared fangs. "What are you doing?"

Otrera frowned at the woman, and paced side to side with closed fists.

"Exposing him for what he is!"

"I know what he is!" Medusa raised herself higher, well above Otrera's height, like a defensive snake, and stared down at the Amazon. "I know what he is capable of. I know he misses a piece inside him. I do not care about some old marriage he did not care for. I do not care about the crimes of his past. He is different than he used to be!"

This woman! This stupid, naive, ridiculous woman. A hundred years of Tartarus and still...

"Did you not hear him two minutes ago? One jab at the right spot and he loses it."

"I heard him. And I know he's the first one who... never mind." The serpent turned around, reached out for Darian's hand, and started slithering away.

It was only when Medusa had moved out of the way that Otrera caught Darian's eyes again. And he looked devastated. Heavy eyes had become stone, shoulders weighing him down, and each step he took to follow Medusa might as well have left a crater.

Silence once more. She looked to Pinna on the hill, and the satyr frowned at her. She looked to Chimera, and there too, the beast of muscle and brutality, she found his frown.

She looked down, and frowned at herself.

Gods damn it.

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~~Darian~~

It happened again.

He looked down at his hands; they were still shaking with the rush of need when he was on Otrera. If he'd managed to get his hands on her, he'd have killed her, crushed her throat, ripped out her wind pipe. He'd have fucking torn out her throat with his teeth if he could have gotten close enough.

Medusa took them a ways from the group, and stopped them once she'd found a good tree between some small hills. A gentle place. And as he expected, Medusa guided him to sit by the tree.

The beautiful woman coiled up beside him. "One moment, I think Otrera will be kind, and the next, she is... she's..."

"She was trying to get a last jab at revenge, I guess." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "But I don't think she really wanted to. She could have waited for a better moment to bring that up, if she wanted." Breathe. Breathe. Otrera's face in his mind sent fire into his fingers, and the need to snap her neck started to grow.

Medusa set a hand on his leg, and waited. When he looked at her, she had a small smile, the tiniest thing, like a waiting mother.

"... I'm a married man," he said.

She shrugged. "Didn't sound like a marriage."

Gods damn she was too good to him.

"No, no it wasn't. I didn't bring it up because I wanted to forget about it. I... do you want to know?"

She nodded. "We love each other, right? Knowing each other's secrets, it comes with the job description."

Laughing, he squeezed her hand and brought it up to his lips.

"She was a gift from her father King Iobates. This was before I knew about what Proetus and him had planned, but after I'd become famous. He was trying to get on my good side before the inevitable. It was a wedding of... it wasn't a wedding. She wanted power, like her sister, and tried to manipulate me to get it."

"I understand. It... it's in the passst."

Too damn good. And when the beautiful serpent brought her torso over to lay her head upon his lap, he put his fingers into her hair, the other on her shoulder, and relaxed against the tree. How could she be so calm with him? He was still shaking with anger, he could feel it in his guts and his hands. Muscles twitched, and his forearms demanded he squeezed something until it died.

But Medusa stayed where she was, and reached up to touch his chest. Fearless.

"And my brother?" he said.

"I... I saw how you reacted, when Otrera mentioned it. I don't want to talk about it if it brings you such pain."

Of course she didn't. He didn't want to either. That was part of the problem, the constant running from the obvious, glaring hole in his life.

"... we were practicing with fake swords. I was only fourteen, he was seventeen."

"Darian, you don't—"

He tapped her shoulder with fingers as lightly as he could manage. "He hit me harder than he was supposed to. Just teasing me, using his older age and greater strength to push me around. Typical brother stuff. And I... just lost it." It took effort, but he raised his heavy hand from her shoulder and looked at his fingers. "Blinding white rage. My family had started keeping me at a bit of a distance after the incident with the thieves, except for my brother. And then... I just..." Beat his body until it was pulp, until he was a smear in the dirt. Parents had sent him off to Proetus in hopes he'd execute him for the crime, not enlist him.

Medusa raised herself from his lap, and looked at him with the most pitying eyes he could have imagined. It hurt to meet her gaze, and his eyes drifted down.

"It's a sad tale," he said, "a sad, pathetic story about a... I don't know. Monster is too powerful a word. Maybe just a—" Otrera's words slapped him in the face, and his breath caught in his throat with it.