Celestial bodies floated overhead, a black blanket of galaxies and starships covering the bodies of slumbering Gods, as Perseo’s sharp axe fell toward Meduso’s delicate neck.
In young Meduso’s mind, beneath his waves of dormant serpents, behind his darting eyes concealed by brown lids and long lashes, swam the erotic visions from just hours before.
The magnificent Perseo had strode into the stirling bedchamber, the waning sunlight edging his muscular frame and girth, and had forced himself inside Meduso’s body and mind. With a touch more consent than objection, and with his serpents supine and limp, Meduso found himself turned and propped, hanging and pinned, choked and impaled, over incendiary hours, until he was covered in shivering swirls of moonlit sweat and mortal fluids.
Meduso’s lust for Perseo–the continent of Xtec and the Teno Empire’s greatest warrior–knew no bounds. Meduso dreamed of a time when his secret trysts with Perseo evolved into a more public coupling, where his devotion and obedience to Perseo could be proudly offered.
Meduso slept lightly, unaware that Perseo was entangled in a scheme to slay him.
In the moment before Perseo’s axe descended, Meduso’s eyes opened and his serpents lurched erect, locking onto Perseo’s handsome visage. But the image of the executioner over him was a reflection in the mirrored shield the warrior held in his other hand.
In that last reflective moment, Meduso saw none of the pretend love or humanity he had seen in Perseo earlier, as the goddess Tlahu had enticed the sun to slight the night. He saw only the eyes of a former lover filled with the cool breeze of apathy.
The axe fell, slicing through Meduso’s neck, flesh and spine. Warm blood and the panic of a life cut short flowed into a bright pulsing light which faded into darkness.
In young Meduso’s mind, beneath his waves of dormant serpents, behind his darting eyes concealed by brown lids and long lashes, swam the erotic visions from just hours before.
The magnificent Perseo had strode into the stirling bedchamber, the waning sunlight edging his muscular frame and girth, and had forced himself inside Meduso’s body and mind. With a touch more consent than objection, and with his serpents supine and limp, Meduso found himself turned and propped, hanging and pinned, choked and impaled, over incendiary hours, until he was covered in shivering swirls of moonlit sweat and mortal fluids.
Meduso’s lust for Perseo–the continent of Xtec and the Teno Empire’s greatest warrior–knew no bounds. Meduso dreamed of a time when his secret trysts with Perseo evolved into a more public coupling, where his devotion and obedience to Perseo could be proudly offered.
Meduso slept lightly, unaware that Perseo was entangled in a scheme to slay him.
In the moment before Perseo’s axe descended, Meduso’s eyes opened and his serpents lurched erect, locking onto Perseo’s handsome visage. But the image of the executioner over him was a reflection in the mirrored shield the warrior held in his other hand.
In that last reflective moment, Meduso saw none of the pretend love or humanity he had seen in Perseo earlier, as the goddess Tlahu had enticed the sun to slight the night. He saw only the eyes of a former lover filled with the cool breeze of apathy.
The axe fell, slicing through Meduso’s neck, flesh and spine. Warm blood and the panic of a life cut short flowed into a bright pulsing light which faded into darkness.
. . .
Twenty sunsets seemed like a few moments, as Meduso opened his eyes.
Hovering over him was the form of Pegas, his loyal friend and trusted guard. But her plump face and red hair was blurry, and he realized that he was looking at her only out of his right eye. Panic consumed him as he also realized that none of his serpents were visible near his face.
The pain of a thousand deaths filled his head, but other than that he felt nothing. He was glad that he couldn’t lift his head, for the sight of nothing below his neck would have thrown him into a spiral of fear and depression. Was his body gone? What would his future be if he had no body? Was that kind of life even worth living?
But even larger questions swirled with the intense pain. Where was he? How was he still alive? And why had Perseo wanted to kill him?
Pegas’ form moved away and then returned, with a blurry figure standing beside her. They looked down at Meduso.
“Pegas–” Meduso mumbled.
“It's too soon for you to be awake,” Pegas replied. “There is still much for Tsaro to connect and engage. We’re putting you back under. Try to rest and stay calm. I’ll be here when you return.”
And with that, Meduso slipped back into darkness.
Hovering over him was the form of Pegas, his loyal friend and trusted guard. But her plump face and red hair was blurry, and he realized that he was looking at her only out of his right eye. Panic consumed him as he also realized that none of his serpents were visible near his face.
The pain of a thousand deaths filled his head, but other than that he felt nothing. He was glad that he couldn’t lift his head, for the sight of nothing below his neck would have thrown him into a spiral of fear and depression. Was his body gone? What would his future be if he had no body? Was that kind of life even worth living?
But even larger questions swirled with the intense pain. Where was he? How was he still alive? And why had Perseo wanted to kill him?
Pegas’ form moved away and then returned, with a blurry figure standing beside her. They looked down at Meduso.
“Pegas–” Meduso mumbled.
“It's too soon for you to be awake,” Pegas replied. “There is still much for Tsaro to connect and engage. We’re putting you back under. Try to rest and stay calm. I’ll be here when you return.”
And with that, Meduso slipped back into darkness.
. . .
The dream of a memory deep in the recesses of Meduso’s mind glowed faintly.
The face of Mezli, his mother, bloomed and faced him. The imported fabrics and sparkling jewels sewn and mined from faraway planets were dull and worthless compared to the kind and delicate face they framed.
She leaned forward and smelled like jasmine and stardust.
“My Meduso,” she said, running her fingers through his dark, wavy hair. “I have tried to protect you from the conspiring forces of the harsh world, as a boy and even now. But as your mind and body are consumed by men, on a journey I cannot take with you, that you must take alone, I will give you the only gift in my possession that will protect your life and limbs, and tender heart.”
His mother–a goddess of the Moon in her maiden life, before her betrothal to his human father, Tezcate, King of the Teno Empire and leader of it’s great army–made movements and odd incantations, defying elemental and organic understandings to bring forth a den of serpents from Meduso’s scalp.
Meduso had flinched, terrified as the serpents undulated around his head and near his face.
“There is no need to be afraid,” his mother said, holding him by his slender wrists. “They are part of you, and you them. They will protect you from those who would cause you harm.”
Meduso hadn’t understood what that meant until days later, when he followed his mother’s teachings and set the gaze of one of his serpents on a handsome but ugly-hearted classmate who had knocked his meal of frijoles and pomegranate rice onto the floor and called him a hateful name. The boy’s foot had turned to solid silver, and he screamed in pain as Meduso smirked, having gotten his first glimpse of the power and means of personal safety and justice he now had under his control.
His mother Mezli had smiled when Meduso had told her what he had done. The vision of her beautiful face faded abruptly, as her mortal life had from the cosmos a season later.
The face of Mezli, his mother, bloomed and faced him. The imported fabrics and sparkling jewels sewn and mined from faraway planets were dull and worthless compared to the kind and delicate face they framed.
She leaned forward and smelled like jasmine and stardust.
“My Meduso,” she said, running her fingers through his dark, wavy hair. “I have tried to protect you from the conspiring forces of the harsh world, as a boy and even now. But as your mind and body are consumed by men, on a journey I cannot take with you, that you must take alone, I will give you the only gift in my possession that will protect your life and limbs, and tender heart.”
His mother–a goddess of the Moon in her maiden life, before her betrothal to his human father, Tezcate, King of the Teno Empire and leader of it’s great army–made movements and odd incantations, defying elemental and organic understandings to bring forth a den of serpents from Meduso’s scalp.
Meduso had flinched, terrified as the serpents undulated around his head and near his face.
“There is no need to be afraid,” his mother said, holding him by his slender wrists. “They are part of you, and you them. They will protect you from those who would cause you harm.”
Meduso hadn’t understood what that meant until days later, when he followed his mother’s teachings and set the gaze of one of his serpents on a handsome but ugly-hearted classmate who had knocked his meal of frijoles and pomegranate rice onto the floor and called him a hateful name. The boy’s foot had turned to solid silver, and he screamed in pain as Meduso smirked, having gotten his first glimpse of the power and means of personal safety and justice he now had under his control.
His mother Mezli had smiled when Meduso had told her what he had done. The vision of her beautiful face faded abruptly, as her mortal life had from the cosmos a season later.
. . .
Meduso reawoke to a body pulsing with pain from head to toe.
When he lifted his head and looked down toward his feet, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Rather than his skin and flesh body, which he recalled and was certain had been severed from his head, what he saw was an elaborate collection of crafted metals, wires, hydraulics, circuits, and other advanced organic and manufactured materials in the form of a body.
Now with both eyes sharp and working, Meduso saw that his most important appendages were still intact. His serpents hovered near his face. And his thick member hovered above his abdomen, a synthetic appendage that was even larger in its erect state than what the gods had given him.
“Are you happy to see me, or just glad that you’re alive?” Pegas said, pulling the edge of a quilt up and over his hips and genitals.
“This pain is peerless,” Meduso mumbled.
“It will take some time for your synthetic nerves to settle into balance with the synapses in your brain,” Pegas offered. “In a few days, the pain will subside. Until then, the intravenous fluids will give you hydration, nutrition and pain relief.”
“Who saved me?” Meduso asked.
“Technically, I did,” Pegas replied. “I came to check on you shortly after Perseo departed your bedchamber. There was so much blood, and at first I thought that saving you was hopeless. Your head and body were too awkward and heavy for me to move. But then I thought if I encased your head in a temporal wrap, and got you to someone who could help, there might be a chance to save you.”
“Temporal wrap?” Meduso replied. “I knew you were an amateur sorceress, but that sounds absurd.”
“I usually use wraps to preserve foods, or cheat at flat games, or get my sister Payna to shut her mouth for two bits,” Pegas replied. “I never imagined I could use it to save someone’s life.”
“Who did all this to me?” Meduso asked, looking down toward his toes, which looked like rust-colored, finely-forged metal and articulated joints covered with a clear and flexible synthetic padding.
“His name is Tsaro. He’s a humanetics engineer. He mostly builds remote military fighting humons, but he was willing to do this because–” Pegas paused.
“Because why?” Meduso asked.
“Because he was a friend of your Mother,” Pegas replied.
“Still,” said Meduso, looking down at his new body, “this all appears very expensive. Making humons is one thing, but attaching an organic head to a synthetic body with all the regular human systems connected and functioning–that is a true marvel. Who paid for this?”
“There is no charge,” Tsaro replied, entering the hangar, a cavernous space filled with a bewildering array of tools, machines, devices, cables, and slabs with humon military androids in various states of construction.
Tsaro was human, but he had obviously applied his knowledge of humanetics to his own body. He towered over Pegas, his robes draped over what looked like the sculpted body of a humon warrior, if instead of plain metal it was made from matte white ceramic tritanium covering parts of his organic, human form.
When he lifted his head and looked down toward his feet, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Rather than his skin and flesh body, which he recalled and was certain had been severed from his head, what he saw was an elaborate collection of crafted metals, wires, hydraulics, circuits, and other advanced organic and manufactured materials in the form of a body.
Now with both eyes sharp and working, Meduso saw that his most important appendages were still intact. His serpents hovered near his face. And his thick member hovered above his abdomen, a synthetic appendage that was even larger in its erect state than what the gods had given him.
“Are you happy to see me, or just glad that you’re alive?” Pegas said, pulling the edge of a quilt up and over his hips and genitals.
“This pain is peerless,” Meduso mumbled.
“It will take some time for your synthetic nerves to settle into balance with the synapses in your brain,” Pegas offered. “In a few days, the pain will subside. Until then, the intravenous fluids will give you hydration, nutrition and pain relief.”
“Who saved me?” Meduso asked.
“Technically, I did,” Pegas replied. “I came to check on you shortly after Perseo departed your bedchamber. There was so much blood, and at first I thought that saving you was hopeless. Your head and body were too awkward and heavy for me to move. But then I thought if I encased your head in a temporal wrap, and got you to someone who could help, there might be a chance to save you.”
“Temporal wrap?” Meduso replied. “I knew you were an amateur sorceress, but that sounds absurd.”
“I usually use wraps to preserve foods, or cheat at flat games, or get my sister Payna to shut her mouth for two bits,” Pegas replied. “I never imagined I could use it to save someone’s life.”
“Who did all this to me?” Meduso asked, looking down toward his toes, which looked like rust-colored, finely-forged metal and articulated joints covered with a clear and flexible synthetic padding.
“His name is Tsaro. He’s a humanetics engineer. He mostly builds remote military fighting humons, but he was willing to do this because–” Pegas paused.
“Because why?” Meduso asked.
“Because he was a friend of your Mother,” Pegas replied.
“Still,” said Meduso, looking down at his new body, “this all appears very expensive. Making humons is one thing, but attaching an organic head to a synthetic body with all the regular human systems connected and functioning–that is a true marvel. Who paid for this?”
“There is no charge,” Tsaro replied, entering the hangar, a cavernous space filled with a bewildering array of tools, machines, devices, cables, and slabs with humon military androids in various states of construction.
Tsaro was human, but he had obviously applied his knowledge of humanetics to his own body. He towered over Pegas, his robes draped over what looked like the sculpted body of a humon warrior, if instead of plain metal it was made from matte white ceramic tritanium covering parts of his organic, human form.
He was like a hero from one of the tales Meduso’s Mother used to project to him when he was a boy.
Meduso took a breath into his synthetic lungs, and made his first movement, pushing himself up into a sitting position, then draping his legs over the side of the coffin-sized slab of granite he had been laying on. The intravenous tubes draped from his arm to a large device with fluid containers, controls and displays.
“I will forever be in your debt,” Meduso replied. “I have so many questions about this body, as well as about how you knew my Mother. I look forward to long conversations with you, Tsaro, my new friend and savior. But, Pegas, there are critical matters at hand. Where are we?”
“We are off-world, on the dark side of the moon of Luna,” Pegas replied.
“You are in my research and development facility for humon soldiers,” Tsaro added.
“You will be safe here until you decide where you want to go and what you want to do next,” Pegas said.
“My serpents,” Meduso said. He lifted his hand in front of his face, and several of his serpents nudged their heads up against his fingers. “Were you able to save all of them?”
“All but one,” Tsaro replied. “Their biology is infused with an enchantment, no doubt from your Mother, that I have little experience with. While the rest of the den appears healthy, my efforts to revive the ailing one were insufficient.”
“A minor loss compared to all that you have done for me,” Meduso replied. “But now to ask–will the serpents still have the same effect on my enemies, turn them into silver?”
“I cannot answer that,” Tsaro replied. “There is no way to test that without injuring or killing a human or some beast as a test subject. You will have to determine that when the time is right.”
“I understand,” Meduso replied. “May I have some food? I don’t know how it is possible, but I am starving.”
Meduso took a breath into his synthetic lungs, and made his first movement, pushing himself up into a sitting position, then draping his legs over the side of the coffin-sized slab of granite he had been laying on. The intravenous tubes draped from his arm to a large device with fluid containers, controls and displays.
“I will forever be in your debt,” Meduso replied. “I have so many questions about this body, as well as about how you knew my Mother. I look forward to long conversations with you, Tsaro, my new friend and savior. But, Pegas, there are critical matters at hand. Where are we?”
“We are off-world, on the dark side of the moon of Luna,” Pegas replied.
“You are in my research and development facility for humon soldiers,” Tsaro added.
“You will be safe here until you decide where you want to go and what you want to do next,” Pegas said.
“My serpents,” Meduso said. He lifted his hand in front of his face, and several of his serpents nudged their heads up against his fingers. “Were you able to save all of them?”
“All but one,” Tsaro replied. “Their biology is infused with an enchantment, no doubt from your Mother, that I have little experience with. While the rest of the den appears healthy, my efforts to revive the ailing one were insufficient.”
“A minor loss compared to all that you have done for me,” Meduso replied. “But now to ask–will the serpents still have the same effect on my enemies, turn them into silver?”
“I cannot answer that,” Tsaro replied. “There is no way to test that without injuring or killing a human or some beast as a test subject. You will have to determine that when the time is right.”
“I understand,” Meduso replied. “May I have some food? I don’t know how it is possible, but I am starving.”
. . .
Meduso spent the next thirty cycles in physical therapy and getting used to his new body.
The first few days were getting used to basic mobility and systems: walking, hand-eye coordination, eating, extreting.
At first, Meduso felt a disconnect with his new body, as if he was in control of someone else. But as the days went by, as he grew accustomed to his synthetic respiratory, nervous and digestive systems, he started to feel in balance and at one with his whole body, like a whole person again.
Unable to refrain, Meduso tested out his new genitalia, manipulating himself to one of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever had. His synthetic semen was a little thicker and tasted different than the emissions from his organic body. But the effect was adequate and still arousing.
In the middle of his time on the dark side of Luna, he started to run and climb. With his head and serpents under a thin, protective oxygen membrane, Meduso ventured outside Tsaro’s facility and sprinted up into the nearby mountain range. His glowsuit illuminating his path, he would run a predetermined loop of trails, and climb the lower part of Craterdome, making sure to not push his abilities too far, for fear of plummeting to his death.
Once, he even approached a Lugress–Luna’s largest and fastest beast–and managed to outrun it, its sharp fangs, powerful jaw, and snorting gallop mere meters behind his heels.
After one of these outings, when he was back inside Tsaro’s facility, showered and in his temporary quarters, on his knees pleasuring Bodie–one of the young facility technicians helping with his physical therapy–Meduso marveled at how he actually felt sore. His muscles ached, like his organic muscles used to, and would quickly return to normal after adequate sleep and hydration.
For many cycles, Pegas had departed Luna for Terra, but had returned with news from his home, the Palace in Teno.
“Your brother was involved with Perseo and his scheme to slay you,” Pegas reported.
“Which one?” Meduso asked, nervously.
“Stheno,” Pegas replied. “Euralo seems genuinely griefstricken, still.”
“I suspected my Father to be involved,” Meduso said, “but as for Stheno, I am in disbelief. I am thrown into a rage by such a betrayal by my own brother.”
That night, Meduso took out some of his rage on young Bodie, who he had promised the more dominant position, but instead used his charm and strength to flip and impale.
His new synthetic member–which unlike his organic one included a realistic foreskin–had every bit the feeling and sensation of his former, human version. And by his moans and sensual movements, Meduso confirmed that Bodie enjoyed both the kink of rough relations, as well as that of being dominated by a non-mortal body while live serpents hovered close to his cheeks and open mouth.
In his last handful of cycles at the facility, Meduso engaged in combat training. Hand-to-hand fighting with an older, handsome trainer he would fantasize about in the solitary darkness of his quarters, as well as sword training, and shooting training with blaster pistols, rifles and crossbows. Since his left eye had been damaged by the decapitation, Tsaro had replaced the lens, pupil and iris with artificial ones that included a targeting reticle and simple data display, which was useful for targeting and detecting enemy movements.
“You are my most advanced creation. My masterpiece,” Tsaro said in Meduso’s last hours at the facility, as they and Pegas sat finishing the evening meal of truffle lentils and quinoa made by Tsaro’s personal chef. “I know you didn’t have a choice, but I am glad Pegas brought you here, that I got to meet you, and that I was able to give you your life back.”
“Thank you, Tsaro,” Meduso replied, “for everything.” They stood, offered each other a strong hug, and Tsaro walked out of the private dining hall.
Meduso had spent many nights at the facility talking with Tsaro over a dark mezcal native to Luna. Meduso had learned that Tsaro had been one of his Mother’s most trusted off-world advisers, unbeknownst to her husband, his Father. There was a whole line of questions, interrogations and actions involving his Mother’s supposed accidental death that Meduso would at some point follow to their logical resolution, whether peaceful or violent. But there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Are you sure you’re ready to walk back into the lion’s den?” Pegas asked.
“I am ready to move the selfish planets that have eclipsed me, and restore my life and station to its full and blinding presence,” Meduso said calmly.
Pegas smiled and nodded. “Drama queen,” she only thought, not wanting to make light of all that Meduso had recently endured.
The first few days were getting used to basic mobility and systems: walking, hand-eye coordination, eating, extreting.
At first, Meduso felt a disconnect with his new body, as if he was in control of someone else. But as the days went by, as he grew accustomed to his synthetic respiratory, nervous and digestive systems, he started to feel in balance and at one with his whole body, like a whole person again.
Unable to refrain, Meduso tested out his new genitalia, manipulating himself to one of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever had. His synthetic semen was a little thicker and tasted different than the emissions from his organic body. But the effect was adequate and still arousing.
In the middle of his time on the dark side of Luna, he started to run and climb. With his head and serpents under a thin, protective oxygen membrane, Meduso ventured outside Tsaro’s facility and sprinted up into the nearby mountain range. His glowsuit illuminating his path, he would run a predetermined loop of trails, and climb the lower part of Craterdome, making sure to not push his abilities too far, for fear of plummeting to his death.
Once, he even approached a Lugress–Luna’s largest and fastest beast–and managed to outrun it, its sharp fangs, powerful jaw, and snorting gallop mere meters behind his heels.
After one of these outings, when he was back inside Tsaro’s facility, showered and in his temporary quarters, on his knees pleasuring Bodie–one of the young facility technicians helping with his physical therapy–Meduso marveled at how he actually felt sore. His muscles ached, like his organic muscles used to, and would quickly return to normal after adequate sleep and hydration.
For many cycles, Pegas had departed Luna for Terra, but had returned with news from his home, the Palace in Teno.
“Your brother was involved with Perseo and his scheme to slay you,” Pegas reported.
“Which one?” Meduso asked, nervously.
“Stheno,” Pegas replied. “Euralo seems genuinely griefstricken, still.”
“I suspected my Father to be involved,” Meduso said, “but as for Stheno, I am in disbelief. I am thrown into a rage by such a betrayal by my own brother.”
That night, Meduso took out some of his rage on young Bodie, who he had promised the more dominant position, but instead used his charm and strength to flip and impale.
His new synthetic member–which unlike his organic one included a realistic foreskin–had every bit the feeling and sensation of his former, human version. And by his moans and sensual movements, Meduso confirmed that Bodie enjoyed both the kink of rough relations, as well as that of being dominated by a non-mortal body while live serpents hovered close to his cheeks and open mouth.
In his last handful of cycles at the facility, Meduso engaged in combat training. Hand-to-hand fighting with an older, handsome trainer he would fantasize about in the solitary darkness of his quarters, as well as sword training, and shooting training with blaster pistols, rifles and crossbows. Since his left eye had been damaged by the decapitation, Tsaro had replaced the lens, pupil and iris with artificial ones that included a targeting reticle and simple data display, which was useful for targeting and detecting enemy movements.
“You are my most advanced creation. My masterpiece,” Tsaro said in Meduso’s last hours at the facility, as they and Pegas sat finishing the evening meal of truffle lentils and quinoa made by Tsaro’s personal chef. “I know you didn’t have a choice, but I am glad Pegas brought you here, that I got to meet you, and that I was able to give you your life back.”
“Thank you, Tsaro,” Meduso replied, “for everything.” They stood, offered each other a strong hug, and Tsaro walked out of the private dining hall.
Meduso had spent many nights at the facility talking with Tsaro over a dark mezcal native to Luna. Meduso had learned that Tsaro had been one of his Mother’s most trusted off-world advisers, unbeknownst to her husband, his Father. There was a whole line of questions, interrogations and actions involving his Mother’s supposed accidental death that Meduso would at some point follow to their logical resolution, whether peaceful or violent. But there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Are you sure you’re ready to walk back into the lion’s den?” Pegas asked.
“I am ready to move the selfish planets that have eclipsed me, and restore my life and station to its full and blinding presence,” Meduso said calmly.
Pegas smiled and nodded. “Drama queen,” she only thought, not wanting to make light of all that Meduso had recently endured.
. . .
On the starship journey from the dark side of Luna back to Terra, Meduso sat in the co-pilot seat, while autopilot did its job and Pegas slept.
Meduso mostly thought about his brothers. It was clear from what Pegas told him that Euralo was still suffering. He couldn’t wait for his youngest sibling to see that he was still alive, and to hold the boy in his arms.
It was also clear that his slightly younger brother Stheno had succumbed to their Father’s vile utterances, and had forsaken any love or respect that he once had for Meduso for betrayal and the promise of future power. It was a cause for great sadness, that struck Meduso as he stared out into the blackness of space.
And as for his Father, Meduso had long-ago given up hope for any compassion, love or respect from him, simply the man who had once impregnated his Mother. On this, which would be the last day of the King’s miserable life, Meduso wondered if he would see any emotion at all in the old man’s face and eyes, as his life and rotten soul drained out of them.
Meduso mostly thought about his brothers. It was clear from what Pegas told him that Euralo was still suffering. He couldn’t wait for his youngest sibling to see that he was still alive, and to hold the boy in his arms.
It was also clear that his slightly younger brother Stheno had succumbed to their Father’s vile utterances, and had forsaken any love or respect that he once had for Meduso for betrayal and the promise of future power. It was a cause for great sadness, that struck Meduso as he stared out into the blackness of space.
And as for his Father, Meduso had long-ago given up hope for any compassion, love or respect from him, simply the man who had once impregnated his Mother. On this, which would be the last day of the King’s miserable life, Meduso wondered if he would see any emotion at all in the old man’s face and eyes, as his life and rotten soul drained out of them.
. . .
Upon landing at the spaceport in Teno, an impressive array of landing pads and runways circling a concourse of metal, stone and glass, Pegas and Meduso made their way toward the transport Pegas had arranged for them. But when they approached the sleek, enclosed coupe that was pulled by two mechanical steeds, Meduso stopped and stared at the luxurious vehicle.
“What?” asked Pegas.
“I am going to walk to the Palace,” Meduso stated.
“Why would you do that?” Pegas inquired.
“I want to see the people,” Meduso replied. “I want them to see that I am still alive and to see my current form. I want them to see my feet touching the ground, not floating by above them or projected on a holo. But mostly, I want my Father’s agents, pale and shaking as if they’ve seen a ghost, to send advanced notice to him that I am alive. I want him to be shaken, and the Palace covered in a blanket of fear and apprehension, prior to my arrival.”
“I understand,” Pegas replied. “But what if he finds out that you’re alive, and sends his agents to slay you before you even arrive? What if he sends Perseo, to finish what he started?”
“What?” asked Pegas.
“I am going to walk to the Palace,” Meduso stated.
“Why would you do that?” Pegas inquired.
“I want to see the people,” Meduso replied. “I want them to see that I am still alive and to see my current form. I want them to see my feet touching the ground, not floating by above them or projected on a holo. But mostly, I want my Father’s agents, pale and shaking as if they’ve seen a ghost, to send advanced notice to him that I am alive. I want him to be shaken, and the Palace covered in a blanket of fear and apprehension, prior to my arrival.”
“I understand,” Pegas replied. “But what if he finds out that you’re alive, and sends his agents to slay you before you even arrive? What if he sends Perseo, to finish what he started?”
“I know my Father, and he won’t do that,” Meduso replied. “He will want to see me with his own eyes, comprehend how I could still possibly be alive, before he again tries to dispatch me.”
“Alright. Let’s go,” Pegas replied.
“You don’t have to walk with me,” said Meduso.
“Oh, I’m not walking,” Pegas replied, opening the door of the transport. “Wake me up if this fellow gets into any trouble or needs a nibble or some conditioned air,” she said to the driver, as she climbed into the transport and shut the door.
Meduso walked away, and the transport followed twenty paces behind him.
“Alright. Let’s go,” Pegas replied.
“You don’t have to walk with me,” said Meduso.
“Oh, I’m not walking,” Pegas replied, opening the door of the transport. “Wake me up if this fellow gets into any trouble or needs a nibble or some conditioned air,” she said to the driver, as she climbed into the transport and shut the door.
Meduso walked away, and the transport followed twenty paces behind him.
. . .
Meduso walked.
From the bustle of the spaceport, down and off the main thoroughfares, he made his way onto the small streets of the nearby villages.
While a simple, white tunic covered his synthetic body, enough of his metal plating, hydraulics, wires and circuits were exposed to make it clear that he wasn’t completely human. And while the den of undulating serpents on his head were familiar, giving away his identity instantly to all who saw him, most who laid eyes on him looked like they had seen an apparition.
Meduso was supposed to be dead, yet here he was–half flesh and blood, half machine–walking among the living.
Meduso’s form and demeanor helped to diffuse any concern. He had no armor or weapons, common to most anyone from the Palace, common to his old station as the son of the King.
He approached children and the elderly on the streets with calm and care and kind words, engaging them in conversation about themselves, their lives and concerns. He walked among the people not as a ruler or representative from a higher class, but as a peer or an equal.
Pegas watched from behind the tinted glass of the transport, witnessing what seemed less like a march of vengeance, and more like the pilgrimage of a modern folk hero, bent on offering the people, his people, a new advocate and a new type of future.
Several times, Meduso got distracted by the more handsome men, young and old, in the villages. Once, he was attempting to focus on a story from one of Ixta’s esteemed elders about a current water contamination issue the village was having, while the beautiful face of the elder’s middle son threw his mind into a delicious fantasy where he pulled the young man’s hair back and sucked on his pale neck until a burgundy mark appeared.
Meduso heard enough of the elder’s story to offer reasonable concern and a possible solution, while politely standing with his hands folded in front of his bulging tunic covering his slightly-swollen member.
As Meduso left that street to continue his journey, the young man had flashed him a smile, making Meduso vow to someday return with a gift of carnal pleasure beyond what any ordinary young man or woman could have possibly given him so far in his young life.
And several times, as Meduso made his way from the smaller villages, through the larger towns, toward the edge of Teno that surrounded the Palace, Meduso saw what he knew were agents in the shadows, inside doorways, under overpasses. He watched them scurry, knowing that they were delivering the message to those who could pass it along, get it through the gates, through the hallways, up into the highest chambers of the Palace.
“He is alive,” were the whispered words that would be heard by the ears destined to hear them.
“Meduso is alive.”
From the bustle of the spaceport, down and off the main thoroughfares, he made his way onto the small streets of the nearby villages.
While a simple, white tunic covered his synthetic body, enough of his metal plating, hydraulics, wires and circuits were exposed to make it clear that he wasn’t completely human. And while the den of undulating serpents on his head were familiar, giving away his identity instantly to all who saw him, most who laid eyes on him looked like they had seen an apparition.
Meduso was supposed to be dead, yet here he was–half flesh and blood, half machine–walking among the living.
Meduso’s form and demeanor helped to diffuse any concern. He had no armor or weapons, common to most anyone from the Palace, common to his old station as the son of the King.
He approached children and the elderly on the streets with calm and care and kind words, engaging them in conversation about themselves, their lives and concerns. He walked among the people not as a ruler or representative from a higher class, but as a peer or an equal.
Pegas watched from behind the tinted glass of the transport, witnessing what seemed less like a march of vengeance, and more like the pilgrimage of a modern folk hero, bent on offering the people, his people, a new advocate and a new type of future.
Several times, Meduso got distracted by the more handsome men, young and old, in the villages. Once, he was attempting to focus on a story from one of Ixta’s esteemed elders about a current water contamination issue the village was having, while the beautiful face of the elder’s middle son threw his mind into a delicious fantasy where he pulled the young man’s hair back and sucked on his pale neck until a burgundy mark appeared.
Meduso heard enough of the elder’s story to offer reasonable concern and a possible solution, while politely standing with his hands folded in front of his bulging tunic covering his slightly-swollen member.
As Meduso left that street to continue his journey, the young man had flashed him a smile, making Meduso vow to someday return with a gift of carnal pleasure beyond what any ordinary young man or woman could have possibly given him so far in his young life.
And several times, as Meduso made his way from the smaller villages, through the larger towns, toward the edge of Teno that surrounded the Palace, Meduso saw what he knew were agents in the shadows, inside doorways, under overpasses. He watched them scurry, knowing that they were delivering the message to those who could pass it along, get it through the gates, through the hallways, up into the highest chambers of the Palace.
“He is alive,” were the whispered words that would be heard by the ears destined to hear them.
“Meduso is alive.”
. . .
By the time Meduso made his way up to the gates of the Palace, he had a throng of citizens from Teno, area towns and villages, and greater Xtec behind him.
“It's amazing what kind of a crowd you can draw when you rise from the dead,” Pegas said as she and Meduso on foot approached the guards posted on either side of the Palace’s main entrance. Both guards were armored and held armswords.
The guards walked toward each other and both stood between Meduso and the massive gate.
The murmurs of the surrounding crowd dissipated as they turned their attention to the impending confrontation.
“Uardo and Iroel,” Meduso said to the guards, who looked upon him with pale, nervous expressions. “You would stand between me and the entry to my home? You would deny the son of the King the opportunity to behold his Father and brothers once again?”
The guard Iroel looked at Uardo, then back at Meduso’s wondrous, mechanical body, and the den of serpents writhing above his head.
“We were instructed, if you were to arrive, not to grant you entry to the Palace,” Iroel mumbled. “Please, Meduso. We mean you no disrespect, but we have orders to obey.”
Pegas stepped back away from Meduso, which made both guards even more nervous and wobbly in their stance.
“I empathize and understand,” Meduso replied, as one of his serpents lurched forward, attracting the gaze of both guards. Instantly, Iroel’s left arm and Uardo’s right leg turned to solid silver. Both guards fell to the ground, wailing and writhing in pain.
The surrounding crowd, punctuated by assorted yelps and gasps, backed further away from Meduso and the guards.
“Well, I guess that still works,” Pegas said, holding her ground a few paces to Meduso’s side.
The eldest son of the King stepped toward the guards and peered down at them.
“This is called mercy,” Meduso said. “You have your orders, and are both fine men who I have long known, with wives and children. But you now have a choice. You can hobble over to the console and open the gate. Or you can witness my mercy come to an abrupt end, along with your mortal lives.” And after a moment, he added, “Please, don’t make me do this.”
From her vantage point, Pegas saw a tear roll down Meduso’s pale cheek. She was struck not only by the fact that he could still cry, even from his synthetic eye, but that his depth of compassion led him to more of an emotional state than she thought possible.
Without even looking at Uardo, Iroel leapt to his feet, ran over to the console and pressed his right, flesh-and-blood hand to the pad.
The massive metal gate creaked and then rose slowly up into the air.
His path unblocked, Meduso turned back toward the gathered crowd.
“People of Teno and greater Xtec,” Meduso said. “I am glad to have gotten to know some of you, and grateful to all of you for accompanying me on my journey home. But now, I ask you to return to your homes, or to wait here at the gate if you so choose. But I must take the last part of this trek alone. There will be important news forthcoming, and I will make sure it gets relayed to you as soon as there is something to tell.”
Much of the crowd turned and headed down and away from the Palace, while some stood still, intent on waiting there for the duration of the impending events.
Pegas walked toward Meduso.
“You’ll be okay?” Pegas asked. “Because there’s no way I’m following you in there.”
“Yes,” Meduso replied. “I will holo you the moment it’s done. Thank you, Pegas, for saving my life and getting me here. There are bright days ahead, and I look forward to having you by my side.”
“So dramatic,” Pegas said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Meduso and Pegas embraced. He smiled, then turned and moved through the gate and toward the outer wall of the Palace, peering up at the camera perched high on the rampart as he walked.
From deep within the Palace, Meduso’s Father peered down at the glowing screen. He watched the man walking away from the disabled guards, through the gate and into the Palace, concerned less that the abomination was the remnants of his son, and more that a lethal weapon had been allowed to enter his Palace.
“It's amazing what kind of a crowd you can draw when you rise from the dead,” Pegas said as she and Meduso on foot approached the guards posted on either side of the Palace’s main entrance. Both guards were armored and held armswords.
The guards walked toward each other and both stood between Meduso and the massive gate.
The murmurs of the surrounding crowd dissipated as they turned their attention to the impending confrontation.
“Uardo and Iroel,” Meduso said to the guards, who looked upon him with pale, nervous expressions. “You would stand between me and the entry to my home? You would deny the son of the King the opportunity to behold his Father and brothers once again?”
The guard Iroel looked at Uardo, then back at Meduso’s wondrous, mechanical body, and the den of serpents writhing above his head.
“We were instructed, if you were to arrive, not to grant you entry to the Palace,” Iroel mumbled. “Please, Meduso. We mean you no disrespect, but we have orders to obey.”
Pegas stepped back away from Meduso, which made both guards even more nervous and wobbly in their stance.
“I empathize and understand,” Meduso replied, as one of his serpents lurched forward, attracting the gaze of both guards. Instantly, Iroel’s left arm and Uardo’s right leg turned to solid silver. Both guards fell to the ground, wailing and writhing in pain.
The surrounding crowd, punctuated by assorted yelps and gasps, backed further away from Meduso and the guards.
“Well, I guess that still works,” Pegas said, holding her ground a few paces to Meduso’s side.
The eldest son of the King stepped toward the guards and peered down at them.
“This is called mercy,” Meduso said. “You have your orders, and are both fine men who I have long known, with wives and children. But you now have a choice. You can hobble over to the console and open the gate. Or you can witness my mercy come to an abrupt end, along with your mortal lives.” And after a moment, he added, “Please, don’t make me do this.”
From her vantage point, Pegas saw a tear roll down Meduso’s pale cheek. She was struck not only by the fact that he could still cry, even from his synthetic eye, but that his depth of compassion led him to more of an emotional state than she thought possible.
Without even looking at Uardo, Iroel leapt to his feet, ran over to the console and pressed his right, flesh-and-blood hand to the pad.
The massive metal gate creaked and then rose slowly up into the air.
His path unblocked, Meduso turned back toward the gathered crowd.
“People of Teno and greater Xtec,” Meduso said. “I am glad to have gotten to know some of you, and grateful to all of you for accompanying me on my journey home. But now, I ask you to return to your homes, or to wait here at the gate if you so choose. But I must take the last part of this trek alone. There will be important news forthcoming, and I will make sure it gets relayed to you as soon as there is something to tell.”
Much of the crowd turned and headed down and away from the Palace, while some stood still, intent on waiting there for the duration of the impending events.
Pegas walked toward Meduso.
“You’ll be okay?” Pegas asked. “Because there’s no way I’m following you in there.”
“Yes,” Meduso replied. “I will holo you the moment it’s done. Thank you, Pegas, for saving my life and getting me here. There are bright days ahead, and I look forward to having you by my side.”
“So dramatic,” Pegas said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Meduso and Pegas embraced. He smiled, then turned and moved through the gate and toward the outer wall of the Palace, peering up at the camera perched high on the rampart as he walked.
From deep within the Palace, Meduso’s Father peered down at the glowing screen. He watched the man walking away from the disabled guards, through the gate and into the Palace, concerned less that the abomination was the remnants of his son, and more that a lethal weapon had been allowed to enter his Palace.
. . .
Meduso made his way into the Palace, through doors, down hallways, up stairs.
He encountered no one. It was as if the Palace was deserted. But Meduso knew that his father likely wanted him to walk without hindrance to the Great Hall, where there would likely be some kind of trap. Having thought through all the possible scenarios he could imagine, Meduso felt he was ready to counter whatever resistance the old man had prepared for him.
Meduso rounded the corner of a mid-level hallway and found his slightly younger brother, Stheno, facing him. Wearing the meshmail and armor of a soldier, Stheno looked Meduso up and down, blinking, a grotesque frown underlining his face.
“What are you?” Stheno said with a tone of disgust. “I knew you were a faggot, but now you’re a faggot and what, some kind of serpent-headed mechanized freak?”
“What I am is alive,” Meduso replied. He tried to ignore his brother’s words, but they cut through his heart like the blade that had decapitated him. They had been the best of friends growing up, inseparable. But at some point, Stheno had abandoned their Mother’s influence and let their Father’s words and the promise of power corrupt his thoughts and actions.
“Not for long,” Stheno replied.
“You knew what Perseo was going to do before he did it, didn’t you?” Meduso asked. “Did he promise you a place in his little reign of corruption in exchange for a tender lick of your delicate pink flower?”
The words knocked Stheno into a rage. He withdrew his handblade. “You disgusting faggot freak,” he spit. “I’m going to slice the vile tongue from your mouth!”
Before Stheno could move, their younger brother Euralo ran from a connecting hallway into the space between them. His long, dark hair was tied back, and Meduso was sure that the boy had lost some of the baby fat in his cheeks since they had last seen each other.
Euralo looked at Stheno, then at Meduso.
“Meduso!” Euralo yelled. “You’re alive!”
Without pause, with no concern for Meduso’s altered appearance, Euralo ran toward his brother and threw his arms around him. Meduso put one hand on Euralo’s head and the other on his back, and felt the boy gasping and sobbing against his chest.
“My brother, I am alive,” Meduso said. “This is going to be a difficult day. But when it's over, we will sit and talk about our lives, and what fate has in store for each of us, going forward.”
“Get your freak pedo hands off of him!” Stheno yelled.
Ignoring Stheno, Meduso spoke softly into Euralo’s ear. “I need you to do something, Euralo,” Meduso said. “I need you to go to your bedchamber, go inside, shut and lock the door. Do not look at Stheno when you leave here. Do not go to Father. Stay in your chamber, and only unlock the door when you hear my voice again. Can you trust me and do that for me?”
“I’m scared,” Euralo said, his face covered in tears and mucus.
“I know, brother,” Meduso replied, “but it's going to be okay. Go.”
Euralo pushed away from Meduso, turned and ran away down the hallway he had come from.
Before Stheno could move or say anything, Meduso stepped toward him. One of the serpents on his head lurched to life and made eye contact with Stheno, whose arm that held the handblade turned to silver.
Stheno screamed, a look of shock on his face, as he looked down as his solidified arm, then back up at Meduso.
“You promised me,” Stheno whimpered, “that you would never use your demon power that Mother gave you on me, or Euralo. You promised. I’m your brother!”
Meduso stepped toward Stheno. “You stopped being my brother the moment you betrayed me. Not just giving your allegiance to Father and Perseo, and doing nothing to stop them from killing me. But the moment you gave up on me. That afternoon during the holiday out at Mistfall when you saw me with that ranger boy. You never looked at me the same again. You knew what I was. But instead of having some courage, getting over your own insecurities and breaking open your own closed mind, you gave up on me.” Tears rolled down Meduso’s face. “I’m your brother, and you gave up on me and threw me away like–”
Stheno lunged at Meduso, swinging the handblade fused to his silver hand and arm at Meduso.
Two of Meduso’s serpents sprung forward and Stheno’s other hand and left leg turned to silver. He screamed again, his body twisted and he fell to the floor. He flailed and lurched, his metal appendages clanking loudly against the stone floor and metal walls.
Meduso approached Stheno, and hovered over his writhing body and enraged face.
“Do you have any last words?” Meduso said.
As Stheno’s mouth opened, four of Meduso’s serpents snapped rigid and the rest of Stheno’s body and head turned to solid silver.
Meduso stood over Stheno’s silver-encased corpse for longer than he expected to. He closed his eyes and held a silent, private memorial, the only eulogy that his brother would ever get. Memories of innocent, splendid times they had together as boys flooded through his mind. Play fighting, carving sculptures, sneaking outside the Palace at night, pretending to study while passing streams back and forth, grinding beans for mugs of hot azucar cocoa, which was their favorite. And both of them holding little Euralo, right after he was born, smiling.
Meduso wiped the tears from his face, as his serpents returned to their dormant state.
“Goodbye, brother,” he said as he turned and walked down the hallway toward the Great Hall.
He encountered no one. It was as if the Palace was deserted. But Meduso knew that his father likely wanted him to walk without hindrance to the Great Hall, where there would likely be some kind of trap. Having thought through all the possible scenarios he could imagine, Meduso felt he was ready to counter whatever resistance the old man had prepared for him.
Meduso rounded the corner of a mid-level hallway and found his slightly younger brother, Stheno, facing him. Wearing the meshmail and armor of a soldier, Stheno looked Meduso up and down, blinking, a grotesque frown underlining his face.
“What are you?” Stheno said with a tone of disgust. “I knew you were a faggot, but now you’re a faggot and what, some kind of serpent-headed mechanized freak?”
“What I am is alive,” Meduso replied. He tried to ignore his brother’s words, but they cut through his heart like the blade that had decapitated him. They had been the best of friends growing up, inseparable. But at some point, Stheno had abandoned their Mother’s influence and let their Father’s words and the promise of power corrupt his thoughts and actions.
“Not for long,” Stheno replied.
“You knew what Perseo was going to do before he did it, didn’t you?” Meduso asked. “Did he promise you a place in his little reign of corruption in exchange for a tender lick of your delicate pink flower?”
The words knocked Stheno into a rage. He withdrew his handblade. “You disgusting faggot freak,” he spit. “I’m going to slice the vile tongue from your mouth!”
Before Stheno could move, their younger brother Euralo ran from a connecting hallway into the space between them. His long, dark hair was tied back, and Meduso was sure that the boy had lost some of the baby fat in his cheeks since they had last seen each other.
Euralo looked at Stheno, then at Meduso.
“Meduso!” Euralo yelled. “You’re alive!”
Without pause, with no concern for Meduso’s altered appearance, Euralo ran toward his brother and threw his arms around him. Meduso put one hand on Euralo’s head and the other on his back, and felt the boy gasping and sobbing against his chest.
“My brother, I am alive,” Meduso said. “This is going to be a difficult day. But when it's over, we will sit and talk about our lives, and what fate has in store for each of us, going forward.”
“Get your freak pedo hands off of him!” Stheno yelled.
Ignoring Stheno, Meduso spoke softly into Euralo’s ear. “I need you to do something, Euralo,” Meduso said. “I need you to go to your bedchamber, go inside, shut and lock the door. Do not look at Stheno when you leave here. Do not go to Father. Stay in your chamber, and only unlock the door when you hear my voice again. Can you trust me and do that for me?”
“I’m scared,” Euralo said, his face covered in tears and mucus.
“I know, brother,” Meduso replied, “but it's going to be okay. Go.”
Euralo pushed away from Meduso, turned and ran away down the hallway he had come from.
Before Stheno could move or say anything, Meduso stepped toward him. One of the serpents on his head lurched to life and made eye contact with Stheno, whose arm that held the handblade turned to silver.
Stheno screamed, a look of shock on his face, as he looked down as his solidified arm, then back up at Meduso.
“You promised me,” Stheno whimpered, “that you would never use your demon power that Mother gave you on me, or Euralo. You promised. I’m your brother!”
Meduso stepped toward Stheno. “You stopped being my brother the moment you betrayed me. Not just giving your allegiance to Father and Perseo, and doing nothing to stop them from killing me. But the moment you gave up on me. That afternoon during the holiday out at Mistfall when you saw me with that ranger boy. You never looked at me the same again. You knew what I was. But instead of having some courage, getting over your own insecurities and breaking open your own closed mind, you gave up on me.” Tears rolled down Meduso’s face. “I’m your brother, and you gave up on me and threw me away like–”
Stheno lunged at Meduso, swinging the handblade fused to his silver hand and arm at Meduso.
Two of Meduso’s serpents sprung forward and Stheno’s other hand and left leg turned to silver. He screamed again, his body twisted and he fell to the floor. He flailed and lurched, his metal appendages clanking loudly against the stone floor and metal walls.
Meduso approached Stheno, and hovered over his writhing body and enraged face.
“Do you have any last words?” Meduso said.
As Stheno’s mouth opened, four of Meduso’s serpents snapped rigid and the rest of Stheno’s body and head turned to solid silver.
Meduso stood over Stheno’s silver-encased corpse for longer than he expected to. He closed his eyes and held a silent, private memorial, the only eulogy that his brother would ever get. Memories of innocent, splendid times they had together as boys flooded through his mind. Play fighting, carving sculptures, sneaking outside the Palace at night, pretending to study while passing streams back and forth, grinding beans for mugs of hot azucar cocoa, which was their favorite. And both of them holding little Euralo, right after he was born, smiling.
Meduso wiped the tears from his face, as his serpents returned to their dormant state.
“Goodbye, brother,” he said as he turned and walked down the hallway toward the Great Hall.
. . .
Meduso made his way up to the Great Hall.
He expected to see his father sitting on his throne at the head of the Hall surrounded by guards and soldiers from his army. But as Meduso walked under the soaring archway into the Hall, he saw guards and soldiers surrounding the throne–but the throne was empty.
The guards and soldiers were all wearing blast visors, making them immune to his serpents. There were more of them than Meduso could handle alone. Even advancing blind, they had an advantage over him by sheer number. His Father would have no concern for casualties, as long as his goal was achieved: the final execution of his most disappointing son.
“Father!” Meduso yelled. He paused until the echo of his voice had bounced off every surface and run its course.
“He who has forsaken his son, the heir to the throne of Teno,” Meduso continued, “and called for his execution. Know that that son is still among the living, and has returned home, with the support of people of the Empire, to claim what is rightfully his.”
“You have no claim to anything, while I am still alive,” his Father’s voice came from the front side of the Hall.
Meduso’s Father walked from behind a row of guards into view, toward the throne, his hands on the shoulders of Euralo, who he held firm and pushed forward in front of him as he walked. His Father wore his ceremonial battle robes with a chestplate of armor that was more for show than protection. The old man’s face looked wrinkled and tired.
When they reached the throne, his Father stopped and faced Euralo forward, still holding the boy by his shoulders, peering over his head at Meduso.
Euralo stood with a terrified look on his face.
“Only a coward would have a whole legion standing in front of him,” Meduso said, “and still use his young son as a shield.”
“Only a demon not of this planet would have hissing hair of death, be dispatched to Hell, and still somehow return an abomination of flesh and metal,” the King replied. “Such a demon has no place along the living, or at my side as my son.”
“I am your former wife’s son,” Meduso stated, “but I was never yours.”
Standing in front of their Father, Euralo shuffled in the King’s firm grip. His head lowered, chin-to-chest, and he began to whimper.
“See, now, you’re scaring your little brother, my real son,” his Father said.
“You are the one scaring him,” Meduso replied. And it was then that Meduso realized that his father wasn’t wearing a visor. In that split second, his mind spun and he was compelled into action. Meduso locked onto his Father’s gaze and summoned his full den of serpents, which rose up and attached their gaze onto the King.
And as the moment passed, his Father still stood with Euralo in front of him, his body not silver, but still its original fragile bones and sagging flesh.
Meduso stood in shock, as his serpents relaxed and returned to their resting state.
“Oh, your face,” his Father delighted. “You didn’t know that your demon powers don’t work on me. I had your Mother summon a protection enchantment over me before–”
“Before what?” Meduso replied. “Before you killed her? Or had someone kill her, because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself?”
Standing in front of their Father, Euralo raised his head and looked intently at Meduso.
“That is an awful and despicable accusation to make, especially about your King,” his Father replied in exaggerated fashion. “That I would knowingly cause any harm to my own wife, my love? Treasonous words like those are against the laws of Xtec and subject to the most severe punishments.”
Meduso would later recall Euralo’s expression the moment before it happened. It was as if he could see the emotions of terror, vengeance, love and hate flash across the boy’s face, then see the innocence drain from it, leaving only a harsh resolve and sadness one expects to see in adults who have experienced the brutality of life, but never children.
In the moment, Euralo twisted free of his Father’s grasp, withdrew his handblade, and with all his strength, thrust the blade up under the King’s chestplate into his heart. Meduso thought it impossible, but from his vantage point across the Hall, separated from them by the legion of visored guards and soldiers, he would swear that he saw Euralo, both hands gripping the upward-facing blade, just for a moment lift the old man off the floor.
Euralo’s boyish scream filled the Hall, as he pushed his Father away from him. The King’s body flopped to the floor, his balding skull cracking on the stone floor.
At the sound of Euralo’s scream, half of the guards and soldiers in the Hall ripped off their visors and turned to look at the King. Several of the guards closest to the fallen ruler moved toward Euralo with the intention of apprehending him.
Meduso lurched toward them, across the Hall, shoving soldiers out of his path.
“Silence!” Meduso screamed as he ran. “Your actions in these next moments must be carefully considered.” He reached Euralo and pushed the guards who moved to grab the boy away from him. “I compel each of you to witness the former King on the floor of this Great Hall in front of us, dead. As the eldest son of King Tezcate, I, Meduso, am now King of the Teno Empire. I declare before the Gods that my brother, Euralo, was in mortal danger and acted in self-defense against the former King. I hereby and thus pardon Euralo for the action you have just witnessed.”
Meduso put his hand on Euralo’s shoulder. The boy’s expression was one of grief mixed with resolve.
“You are a hero today,” Meduso said quietly. Euralo looked at him and nodded.
Murmurs and grumbles weaved through the gathering of guards and soldiers surrounding Meduso and Euralo. Meduso looked around the Hall nervously, unsure whether his words and presence would prevent or incite revolt.
“I am your King!” Meduso yelled as loud as he could, filling every last corner and crack in the Hall with his undeniable will. And with that, even those consorts and advisors closely allied with his Father, who had been cowering off to one side of the Hall chancel, remained still and quiet, their heads bowed in Meduso’s direction.
“You are nobody’s King,” a voice boomed through the Hall.
Meduso and every soul in the Great Hall turned to behold Perseo standing at the Hall entrance.
Wearing his full battle armor, he stood holding his armsword in one hand and his mirrored shield in the other. His physique was more impressive than any man Meduso had ever seen. Meduso’s groin pulsed, as he pictured Perseo stripped of all his armor, meshmail and undergarments, and recalled their epic and passionate session shortly before his decapitation.
“A boy and his little serpents have no place at the head of the Empire,” Perseo continued. “If you return to your bedchamber, strip down and wait for me, mouth open on both your metal kneecaps, like an obedient joven, your new Father and King will spare your life, and be there as soon as he takes care of the Empire’s business here.”
Meduso glanced at Euralo and couldn’t tell if the boy comprehended Perseo’s words. But having just murdered his own Father, the boy was now an adult, and subject to adult concepts, politics and scenarios, even if he remained on the periphery of them.
“You know not who you’re talking to,” Meduso replied across the Hall from Perseo. “The young man whose trust and flesh and blood body you took from him is dead. Here now at the throne is the eldest son of Tezcate, his rightful heir, who will defend it from any mistaken tyrant or bully who wanders in with empty claims.”
“Your Father made me a promise–” Perseo started, looking at Meduso in the reflection of his mirrored shield.
“A promise that died with him moments ago,” Meduso interrupted him.
In that moment, Meduso ran through his head all the possible outcomes of this scenario that he could imagine. Even if the majority of his Father’s guards, soldiers and allies in the Hall came to his side, there would still be some who for whatever reason would join Perseo. And if it came down to a one-on-one battle, while Meduso’s training on Luna made him strong and agile with most any weapon, he would always be beaten by Perseo’s massive size, brute strength and experience gained on many battlefields.
With all scenarios leading to the loss of his new station and life, Meduso did the only thing he could think of. With a slow and subtle movement, he touched the holo device on his wrist. He only hoped Pegas would see the transmission and know what to do.
“I say we take stock of our alliances,” Perseo said. “To all those gathered here in this Great Hall, the time has come for you to make a choice. Come stand by my side if you choose strength, and an Empire that will continue to dominate, conquer new lands and expand its influence. If instead you choose weakness to lead you in the coming war, go and stand beside the thing that condones the murder of his own Father. The thing that is so blatantly more feminine than masculine, more machine than human, more an aberrant mistake of the Gods than their pure and intended creations.”
The legion of guards, soldiers and others filling the Great Hall between Meduso and Perseo shifted nervously, looking at each other and the subjects of the choice they had to make. Several indicated their choice, prompting the rest into reluctant movement. When the Hall was again still, about two-thirds of those gathered remained at Meduso’s side of the Hall, while only one-third expressed their alliance to Perseo.
“Those gathered have spoken,” Meduso stated loudly. “You may now leave the Great Hall, Perseo, taking your diminished band of traitors to the Empire with you.”
“I go nowhere while your obscene, serpent-covered skull is still in one piece,” Perseo boomed, raising his armsword and stomping into the center of the Hall. “This time, I won’t stop until your brain matter is pink and pulverized on the stone floor, and your soul is on its way from this Hall to Hell, where it belongs.”
Meduso was frozen in place, unsure what he was going to do. Stepping away from the throne toward the middle of the Hall and confronting Perseo was certain death. But his spirits soared when he saw Pegas enter the Hall behind Perseo and his traitorous soldiers.
“And I thought you were dramatic,” Pegas said loudly.
Behind her was the remaining mob of citizens and subjects who had walked with Meduso through the streets all the way from the spaceport to the Palace.
Perseo turned toward the entering mob. “Kill them all!” he shouted to the soldiers surrounding him.
The soldiers, knowing that the innocent citizens who entered were their family, friends and neighbors, stood frozen in place. They would gladly fight with and for the mighty Perseo on the battlefield against sworn enemies and invading armies. But killing their own was a line none of them were willing to cross.
And then, Meduso witnessed the most remarkable thing. The mob of citizens and subjects quickly descended on Perseo. He took the first few down, slaying them with his armsword. But in a moment, he was outnumbered. Like a swarm of fire ants covering a mound of azucar, they held him, climbed onto him, forced him to his knees, then onto the floor of the Hall.
It took three men with their arms around Perseo’s head and neck to subdue his yelling and thrashing, until they finally choked him out.
Meduso nodded to one of his Father’s former guards, who quickly moved toward those gathered around Perseo’s limp body, and led them as they dragged Pereso out of the Hall and to a confinement cell in the lower depths of the Palace.
“To those who took action to subdue Perseo, especially those who gave their lives,” Meduso proclaimed, “you have surely saved my life, and ensured the Empire will move forward, not under a dark and corrupt tyranny, but alongside a new King and his sole brother, who will strive to lead you with honesty, compassion and with your health and wellbeing in mind.”
Meduso shared a glance with Euralo, who stood tall and proudly beside his brother.
“Perseo mentioned the coming war,” Meduso continued. “We will need every soldier with the skill and temperament to protect our homeland, and stop the Ahuat invaders. If you wish to stand beside my brother and I, and our trusted advisors, you are needed and welcome. For those with loyalties to my Father, who do not want to participate in this new Empire, you may leave this Hall and this city now, without dishonor or retribution.”
Two of his Father’s advisors, along with a handful of soldiers, made their way to the entrance and out of the Hall. Meduso was encouraged that so few left. He knew there were likely others who would stay to remain in his new orbit of power and influence. It would take time to determine who was trustworthy and who was not. But Meduso would do what he could to weed out the unfaithful, and surround himself and his brother with those of the highest character and with the most genuine of intentions..
Pegas approached Meduso. “You’re welcome,” Pegas joked.
“Thank you, Pegas,” Meduso replied, “for saving me once again.”
“Your people saved you,” Pegas said. “They would not have rushed to your side, or given their lives, if they didn’t trust and believe in you, like I do.”
Pegas pulled Meduso into an embrace, then extended her arm to include Euralo who joined them.
The guards and soldiers were all wearing blast visors, making them immune to his serpents. There were more of them than Meduso could handle alone. Even advancing blind, they had an advantage over him by sheer number. His Father would have no concern for casualties, as long as his goal was achieved: the final execution of his most disappointing son.
“Father!” Meduso yelled. He paused until the echo of his voice had bounced off every surface and run its course.
“He who has forsaken his son, the heir to the throne of Teno,” Meduso continued, “and called for his execution. Know that that son is still among the living, and has returned home, with the support of people of the Empire, to claim what is rightfully his.”
“You have no claim to anything, while I am still alive,” his Father’s voice came from the front side of the Hall.
Meduso’s Father walked from behind a row of guards into view, toward the throne, his hands on the shoulders of Euralo, who he held firm and pushed forward in front of him as he walked. His Father wore his ceremonial battle robes with a chestplate of armor that was more for show than protection. The old man’s face looked wrinkled and tired.
When they reached the throne, his Father stopped and faced Euralo forward, still holding the boy by his shoulders, peering over his head at Meduso.
Euralo stood with a terrified look on his face.
“Only a coward would have a whole legion standing in front of him,” Meduso said, “and still use his young son as a shield.”
“Only a demon not of this planet would have hissing hair of death, be dispatched to Hell, and still somehow return an abomination of flesh and metal,” the King replied. “Such a demon has no place along the living, or at my side as my son.”
“I am your former wife’s son,” Meduso stated, “but I was never yours.”
Standing in front of their Father, Euralo shuffled in the King’s firm grip. His head lowered, chin-to-chest, and he began to whimper.
“See, now, you’re scaring your little brother, my real son,” his Father said.
“You are the one scaring him,” Meduso replied. And it was then that Meduso realized that his father wasn’t wearing a visor. In that split second, his mind spun and he was compelled into action. Meduso locked onto his Father’s gaze and summoned his full den of serpents, which rose up and attached their gaze onto the King.
And as the moment passed, his Father still stood with Euralo in front of him, his body not silver, but still its original fragile bones and sagging flesh.
Meduso stood in shock, as his serpents relaxed and returned to their resting state.
“Oh, your face,” his Father delighted. “You didn’t know that your demon powers don’t work on me. I had your Mother summon a protection enchantment over me before–”
“Before what?” Meduso replied. “Before you killed her? Or had someone kill her, because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself?”
Standing in front of their Father, Euralo raised his head and looked intently at Meduso.
“That is an awful and despicable accusation to make, especially about your King,” his Father replied in exaggerated fashion. “That I would knowingly cause any harm to my own wife, my love? Treasonous words like those are against the laws of Xtec and subject to the most severe punishments.”
Meduso would later recall Euralo’s expression the moment before it happened. It was as if he could see the emotions of terror, vengeance, love and hate flash across the boy’s face, then see the innocence drain from it, leaving only a harsh resolve and sadness one expects to see in adults who have experienced the brutality of life, but never children.
In the moment, Euralo twisted free of his Father’s grasp, withdrew his handblade, and with all his strength, thrust the blade up under the King’s chestplate into his heart. Meduso thought it impossible, but from his vantage point across the Hall, separated from them by the legion of visored guards and soldiers, he would swear that he saw Euralo, both hands gripping the upward-facing blade, just for a moment lift the old man off the floor.
Euralo’s boyish scream filled the Hall, as he pushed his Father away from him. The King’s body flopped to the floor, his balding skull cracking on the stone floor.
At the sound of Euralo’s scream, half of the guards and soldiers in the Hall ripped off their visors and turned to look at the King. Several of the guards closest to the fallen ruler moved toward Euralo with the intention of apprehending him.
Meduso lurched toward them, across the Hall, shoving soldiers out of his path.
“Silence!” Meduso screamed as he ran. “Your actions in these next moments must be carefully considered.” He reached Euralo and pushed the guards who moved to grab the boy away from him. “I compel each of you to witness the former King on the floor of this Great Hall in front of us, dead. As the eldest son of King Tezcate, I, Meduso, am now King of the Teno Empire. I declare before the Gods that my brother, Euralo, was in mortal danger and acted in self-defense against the former King. I hereby and thus pardon Euralo for the action you have just witnessed.”
Meduso put his hand on Euralo’s shoulder. The boy’s expression was one of grief mixed with resolve.
“You are a hero today,” Meduso said quietly. Euralo looked at him and nodded.
Murmurs and grumbles weaved through the gathering of guards and soldiers surrounding Meduso and Euralo. Meduso looked around the Hall nervously, unsure whether his words and presence would prevent or incite revolt.
“I am your King!” Meduso yelled as loud as he could, filling every last corner and crack in the Hall with his undeniable will. And with that, even those consorts and advisors closely allied with his Father, who had been cowering off to one side of the Hall chancel, remained still and quiet, their heads bowed in Meduso’s direction.
“You are nobody’s King,” a voice boomed through the Hall.
Meduso and every soul in the Great Hall turned to behold Perseo standing at the Hall entrance.
Wearing his full battle armor, he stood holding his armsword in one hand and his mirrored shield in the other. His physique was more impressive than any man Meduso had ever seen. Meduso’s groin pulsed, as he pictured Perseo stripped of all his armor, meshmail and undergarments, and recalled their epic and passionate session shortly before his decapitation.
“A boy and his little serpents have no place at the head of the Empire,” Perseo continued. “If you return to your bedchamber, strip down and wait for me, mouth open on both your metal kneecaps, like an obedient joven, your new Father and King will spare your life, and be there as soon as he takes care of the Empire’s business here.”
Meduso glanced at Euralo and couldn’t tell if the boy comprehended Perseo’s words. But having just murdered his own Father, the boy was now an adult, and subject to adult concepts, politics and scenarios, even if he remained on the periphery of them.
“You know not who you’re talking to,” Meduso replied across the Hall from Perseo. “The young man whose trust and flesh and blood body you took from him is dead. Here now at the throne is the eldest son of Tezcate, his rightful heir, who will defend it from any mistaken tyrant or bully who wanders in with empty claims.”
“Your Father made me a promise–” Perseo started, looking at Meduso in the reflection of his mirrored shield.
“A promise that died with him moments ago,” Meduso interrupted him.
In that moment, Meduso ran through his head all the possible outcomes of this scenario that he could imagine. Even if the majority of his Father’s guards, soldiers and allies in the Hall came to his side, there would still be some who for whatever reason would join Perseo. And if it came down to a one-on-one battle, while Meduso’s training on Luna made him strong and agile with most any weapon, he would always be beaten by Perseo’s massive size, brute strength and experience gained on many battlefields.
With all scenarios leading to the loss of his new station and life, Meduso did the only thing he could think of. With a slow and subtle movement, he touched the holo device on his wrist. He only hoped Pegas would see the transmission and know what to do.
“I say we take stock of our alliances,” Perseo said. “To all those gathered here in this Great Hall, the time has come for you to make a choice. Come stand by my side if you choose strength, and an Empire that will continue to dominate, conquer new lands and expand its influence. If instead you choose weakness to lead you in the coming war, go and stand beside the thing that condones the murder of his own Father. The thing that is so blatantly more feminine than masculine, more machine than human, more an aberrant mistake of the Gods than their pure and intended creations.”
The legion of guards, soldiers and others filling the Great Hall between Meduso and Perseo shifted nervously, looking at each other and the subjects of the choice they had to make. Several indicated their choice, prompting the rest into reluctant movement. When the Hall was again still, about two-thirds of those gathered remained at Meduso’s side of the Hall, while only one-third expressed their alliance to Perseo.
“Those gathered have spoken,” Meduso stated loudly. “You may now leave the Great Hall, Perseo, taking your diminished band of traitors to the Empire with you.”
“I go nowhere while your obscene, serpent-covered skull is still in one piece,” Perseo boomed, raising his armsword and stomping into the center of the Hall. “This time, I won’t stop until your brain matter is pink and pulverized on the stone floor, and your soul is on its way from this Hall to Hell, where it belongs.”
Meduso was frozen in place, unsure what he was going to do. Stepping away from the throne toward the middle of the Hall and confronting Perseo was certain death. But his spirits soared when he saw Pegas enter the Hall behind Perseo and his traitorous soldiers.
“And I thought you were dramatic,” Pegas said loudly.
Behind her was the remaining mob of citizens and subjects who had walked with Meduso through the streets all the way from the spaceport to the Palace.
Perseo turned toward the entering mob. “Kill them all!” he shouted to the soldiers surrounding him.
The soldiers, knowing that the innocent citizens who entered were their family, friends and neighbors, stood frozen in place. They would gladly fight with and for the mighty Perseo on the battlefield against sworn enemies and invading armies. But killing their own was a line none of them were willing to cross.
And then, Meduso witnessed the most remarkable thing. The mob of citizens and subjects quickly descended on Perseo. He took the first few down, slaying them with his armsword. But in a moment, he was outnumbered. Like a swarm of fire ants covering a mound of azucar, they held him, climbed onto him, forced him to his knees, then onto the floor of the Hall.
It took three men with their arms around Perseo’s head and neck to subdue his yelling and thrashing, until they finally choked him out.
Meduso nodded to one of his Father’s former guards, who quickly moved toward those gathered around Perseo’s limp body, and led them as they dragged Pereso out of the Hall and to a confinement cell in the lower depths of the Palace.
“To those who took action to subdue Perseo, especially those who gave their lives,” Meduso proclaimed, “you have surely saved my life, and ensured the Empire will move forward, not under a dark and corrupt tyranny, but alongside a new King and his sole brother, who will strive to lead you with honesty, compassion and with your health and wellbeing in mind.”
Meduso shared a glance with Euralo, who stood tall and proudly beside his brother.
“Perseo mentioned the coming war,” Meduso continued. “We will need every soldier with the skill and temperament to protect our homeland, and stop the Ahuat invaders. If you wish to stand beside my brother and I, and our trusted advisors, you are needed and welcome. For those with loyalties to my Father, who do not want to participate in this new Empire, you may leave this Hall and this city now, without dishonor or retribution.”
Two of his Father’s advisors, along with a handful of soldiers, made their way to the entrance and out of the Hall. Meduso was encouraged that so few left. He knew there were likely others who would stay to remain in his new orbit of power and influence. It would take time to determine who was trustworthy and who was not. But Meduso would do what he could to weed out the unfaithful, and surround himself and his brother with those of the highest character and with the most genuine of intentions..
Pegas approached Meduso. “You’re welcome,” Pegas joked.
“Thank you, Pegas,” Meduso replied, “for saving me once again.”
“Your people saved you,” Pegas said. “They would not have rushed to your side, or given their lives, if they didn’t trust and believe in you, like I do.”
Pegas pulled Meduso into an embrace, then extended her arm to include Euralo who joined them.
. . .
While Meduso had been unconscious and his new body was being built on the dark side of Luna, his Father had been preparing his army to defend the Teno Empire and its satellites to the North against the Ahuat invaders.
A fierce, nomadic people who had arrived from a distant planet over a century ago and settled a small area in the Northern wastelands of Xtec, the Ahuat had in recent decades grown large enough to form an army, and had begun to expand their territory in a sweeping and violent assault on Empires and armies South of their settlement.
As the new King of the Teno Empire, Meduso found himself in the Palace War Room, surrounded by advisors and local civilian and military leaders, in a discussion on how best to confront the coming assault by the Ahuat army.
A fierce, nomadic people who had arrived from a distant planet over a century ago and settled a small area in the Northern wastelands of Xtec, the Ahuat had in recent decades grown large enough to form an army, and had begun to expand their territory in a sweeping and violent assault on Empires and armies South of their settlement.
As the new King of the Teno Empire, Meduso found himself in the Palace War Room, surrounded by advisors and local civilian and military leaders, in a discussion on how best to confront the coming assault by the Ahuat army.
Meduso stood at the head of a massive, live-edge table cut from the trunk of a Zuma cyprus, while those gathered sat around it.
“Tezcate wasn’t much of a Father,” Meduso stated plainly, “but he was a brilliant strategist. So, I trust his plan to confront the Ahuat was strong and well thought out.”
“His plan was strong, and one that would be in motion if he was still here,” an advisor named Oyam declared.
“His plan was lacking,” a General named Delab countered, “and as many of us gathered here felt, was insufficient for the Ahuat offensive, given their alien technologies. We expressed this to the King but our concerns went largely ignored.”
“With all due respect, Meduso,” Oyam said, “Delab always errs on the side of more bodies and resources, and tends to exaggerate situations to gain more of both.”
“And with the same respect, my King,” Delab replied, “Oyam has not been on the ground at the Northern border towns and seen the devastation and casualties that our citizens have suffered trying to hold off the Ahuat assault until our armies arrive.”
Euralo quietly entered the War Room and took the empty seat to the right of Meduso.
“What alien technologies do the Ahuat possess?” Meduso asked.
“They have advanced airborne micro-weapons that can be deployed with no visible warning and silently take down squads of soldiers,” Delab replied. “They have been used by the Ahuat at the Northern border towns of Tosi and Juato to devastating effect. Our only hope at a defense is locating and eliminating the source of these weapons quickly, or taking down the majority of their army before they deploy it.”
“And what of our ally Tsaro and his humon soldiers being built on the dark side of Luna?” Meduso inquired. “Do we not have access to them?”
“Tsaro’s contracts for humon soldiers are currently for deep space conflicts, and for those remote Empires that can afford them,” Oyam replied. “Humon soldiers are expensive. Even a handful of them are beyond our Empire’s reserves, and such a small number would have no effect on the outcome of this current conflict with the Ahuat.”
“I understand,” Meduso replied.
“My King,” an advisor named Zoles said from the far end of the War Room table. “We have all recently become aware of a new weapon available to us that I think we should consider, as we solidify our plan to confront the Ahuat.”
Those gathered around the table looked at Zoles and each other, with confused expressions and raised eyebrows.
“What new weapon do you speak of?” Meduso asked.
“You,” Zoles replied.
Murmurs, surprised looks and nods surrounded the table.
“Not only is the fact that you’re alive likely not reached the Northern border,” Zoles continued, “but even before your, uh, unfortunate experience, there was no precedence of you using your ability in any military capacity. The Ahuat wouldn’t know what hit them.”
“Tezcate wasn’t much of a Father,” Meduso stated plainly, “but he was a brilliant strategist. So, I trust his plan to confront the Ahuat was strong and well thought out.”
“His plan was strong, and one that would be in motion if he was still here,” an advisor named Oyam declared.
“His plan was lacking,” a General named Delab countered, “and as many of us gathered here felt, was insufficient for the Ahuat offensive, given their alien technologies. We expressed this to the King but our concerns went largely ignored.”
“With all due respect, Meduso,” Oyam said, “Delab always errs on the side of more bodies and resources, and tends to exaggerate situations to gain more of both.”
“And with the same respect, my King,” Delab replied, “Oyam has not been on the ground at the Northern border towns and seen the devastation and casualties that our citizens have suffered trying to hold off the Ahuat assault until our armies arrive.”
Euralo quietly entered the War Room and took the empty seat to the right of Meduso.
“What alien technologies do the Ahuat possess?” Meduso asked.
“They have advanced airborne micro-weapons that can be deployed with no visible warning and silently take down squads of soldiers,” Delab replied. “They have been used by the Ahuat at the Northern border towns of Tosi and Juato to devastating effect. Our only hope at a defense is locating and eliminating the source of these weapons quickly, or taking down the majority of their army before they deploy it.”
“And what of our ally Tsaro and his humon soldiers being built on the dark side of Luna?” Meduso inquired. “Do we not have access to them?”
“Tsaro’s contracts for humon soldiers are currently for deep space conflicts, and for those remote Empires that can afford them,” Oyam replied. “Humon soldiers are expensive. Even a handful of them are beyond our Empire’s reserves, and such a small number would have no effect on the outcome of this current conflict with the Ahuat.”
“I understand,” Meduso replied.
“My King,” an advisor named Zoles said from the far end of the War Room table. “We have all recently become aware of a new weapon available to us that I think we should consider, as we solidify our plan to confront the Ahuat.”
Those gathered around the table looked at Zoles and each other, with confused expressions and raised eyebrows.
“What new weapon do you speak of?” Meduso asked.
“You,” Zoles replied.
Murmurs, surprised looks and nods surrounded the table.
“Not only is the fact that you’re alive likely not reached the Northern border,” Zoles continued, “but even before your, uh, unfortunate experience, there was no precedence of you using your ability in any military capacity. The Ahuat wouldn’t know what hit them.”
. . .
“We would be foolish not to consider using your ability to protect the Empire,” Euralo said that night in Meduso’s quarters. His little brother had kept his thoughts to himself in the War Room, but was now freely expressing his opinion.
“What do you think?” Meduso asked Pegas.
“Your Mother gave you your ability to protect yourself, not as a weapon of war,” Pegas replied. She was sprawled across one of the lounges, her feet up and crossed. “I understand the temptation, but I think you might regret using it to take the lives of so many people at once.”
“Not people. Soldiers,” Euralo clarified. “Ahuat soldiers who are going to kill masses of our citizens and, given the chance, advance violently South through the Empire with the goal of conquering us and taking all we have for themselves.”
“When you put it that way,” Pegas sighed as she got up from the lounge and walked over to Meduso. “You are the King, and the King is the Empire. You should do what you think is best to preserve all three.”
Pegas held her hand up toward Meduso’s serpents, which gently nudged her hand with their heads.
“Just don’t die on me, okay?” Pegas quipped. “These little fellows are finally growing on me.”
“What do you think?” Meduso asked Pegas.
“Your Mother gave you your ability to protect yourself, not as a weapon of war,” Pegas replied. She was sprawled across one of the lounges, her feet up and crossed. “I understand the temptation, but I think you might regret using it to take the lives of so many people at once.”
“Not people. Soldiers,” Euralo clarified. “Ahuat soldiers who are going to kill masses of our citizens and, given the chance, advance violently South through the Empire with the goal of conquering us and taking all we have for themselves.”
“When you put it that way,” Pegas sighed as she got up from the lounge and walked over to Meduso. “You are the King, and the King is the Empire. You should do what you think is best to preserve all three.”
Pegas held her hand up toward Meduso’s serpents, which gently nudged her hand with their heads.
“Just don’t die on me, okay?” Pegas quipped. “These little fellows are finally growing on me.”
. . .
Scouts from Teno reached the Northern border towns a day before Meduso’s army arrived.
The scouts sent word to the Ahuat leader, a clever and feared man named Seso Eko, that the Teno army would arrive at late-sun at the open lands known as the Domain on the following day.
The rules of engagement called for a face-to-face meeting between Seso Eko and the leader of the Teno Empire. In order to sow both confusion and a false sense of advantage, the scouts conveyed conflicting rumors regarding the state of the Teno Empire, and who would arrive to meet with Seso Eko–one of the rumors being that it would be the former King’s youngest son, Euralo, a boy of only fifteen.
The Ahuat were known to be volatile and rebellious. So, Meduso could only hope that Seso Eko would adhere to the rules of engagement, and would want to size-up the Teno Empire’s army and its leader face-to-face, before the battle commenced.
Meduso just hoped to the Gods that they weren’t walking into a trap.
Transports and tanks moved North from Teno across the desert, past ranches, farms, small towns and outposts for the better part of a day until Meduso saw, out the window of their mechanical steed-drawn transport, the skyline of the border town of Tosi on the horizon.
“Are you ready for this?” Meduso asked Euralo, who sat next to him, wearing newly-crafted armor and robes befitting a boy King.
“As long as you’re by my side,” Euralo replied.
The caravan of Teno transports, vehicles and soldiers arrived at the Domain, and the Ahuat army was visible on the far side of the vast, open space. As the soldiers and vehicles got into formation, Euralo and Meduso climbed out of their transport. Meduso followed Euralo to the front of the formation, and was joined by three other men wearing similar robes. At once, Meduso and the three men pulled hoods over their heads.
Meduso’s serpents slid under his hood, content to be shielded from the bright afternoon sun.
Euralo nodded to General Delab. A wailing buzz emanated from the rear of the legion, and they moved forward, Euralo front and center, Meduso to Euralo’s far right, General Delab to the far left, the robed decoys between them, and the massive formations of soldiers and tanks behind them.
They walked until the sun set on the horizon, until the two armies met in the middle of the Domain. Facing Euralo and his four hooded agents was Seso Eko, a younger man that looked like he could be Eko's son, and four other men that looked like military leaders. All of them carried weapons of some sort–swords, armswords, vibro-blades and blasters–and were dressed in armor and undermesh that looked rustic but substantial.
Seso Eko alone wore robes made of pelts and fine fabrics, fabrics that were as blue as his eyes. His handsome face was bearded, while the younger man standing next to him was clean shaven.
Meduso peered out from under his hood and eyed the younger man, whose body looked lean but strong under the armor. The man’s stance and slight shuffle matched the nervous expression on his face, which was captivating to Meduso. It was the expression of a virgin moments before being penetrated and all innocence being stripped away.
In that last moment of silence, Meduso felt a profound sadness. He would never get to experience gazing into the young man’s inherited blue eyes, or manipulate his body to a shared release, as the man and the majority of those around him would, in moments, be dead.
“I am Seso Eko, leader of the Ahuat Empire,” Eko declared. “This is my son, Ahno,” he said, motioning to the young man next to him. “And these are my commanders, and behind them the unified army of the Ahuat Empire.”
“I am Euralo Onzal, King of the Teno Empire,” Euralo said with conviction. “These are my military agents and advisors. And behind us is the military force of the Teno Empire.”
“My condolences on the death of your Father,” Eko said. “Conflicting rumors reached us with opposing news. One insisted that your brother Stheno would be standing here today, the other that your brother Meduso was indeed alive and that he instead would be here today. So, we were not expecting to be facing a lad with barely a trace of fuzz on his ballsac.”
Meduso kept his gaze low, hoping that Euralo would respond appropriately to the insult.
“My brother Stheno lost his life recently in a tragic accident,” Euralo replied calmly. “And my brother Meduso was decapitated and killed, and is still dead, as far as I’m aware. I stand here as my Father’s son, King and heir to the throne of the Teno Empire, calm and steadfast, and fully confident in the ability of the army that stands behind me. Which is more than I can say for your son, Ahno there, who looks like he’s about to urinate himself, run away and hide behind his nanny.”
Meduso gave an imperceptible smirk, filled with pride at his brother’s words and grit.
“How dare you insult my son with such words,” Eko replied.
At that moment, there was a commotion at the far back of the ranks of the Teno army. Meduso turned and saw their soldiers at the back of the regiment leave formation, drop their weapons to the ground, and wave their arms wildly. He realized that whatever was happening, it likely involved the airborne micro-weapons that General Delab had mentioned in the War Room.
Meduso made eye contact with the General and caught his nod. And with that Meduso stepped forward in front of Euralo and removed the hood from his head. Meduso’s full den of serpents rose erect and he locked eyes with Seso Eko, who instantly turned to silver.
From Eko’s central position, Meduso swept his gaze left and right, and in moments, the scores of Ahuat soldiers nearest him turned to silver. Some remained in an upright position, and some topped onto the ground. Those who happened by chance to avoid Meduso’s gaze stood frozen in place, stunned by what they were seeing, or ran away in the opposite direction.
When Meduso saw Eko’s son Ahno standing frozen, staring at his Father, who was now a solid silver statue of his former self, he forced his serpents back into their dormant position.
At that moment, Ahno looked up, his blue eyes locked onto Meduso’s, and time seemed to stop. A lifetime of words and expressions, fears and dreams flowed between the two. It was as if they had known each other forever. At least that was Meduso’s experience, as he stood entranced in lust and perceived love by the young Ahno.
When a nearby explosion snapped them both back to the present, Ahno blinked and Meduso nodded.
“Run,” Meduso mouthed to Ahno.
With that, Ahno turned and ran away from Meduso, weaving through static, silver soldiers and still-living, advancing soldiers until Meduso could no longer see him.
As Meduso saw one of the hooded decoys grab Euralo’s shoulder and lead his brother away from danger toward the back of their regiment, Meduso’s serpents again lurched to attention. Flanked by a handful of Teno soldiers carrying shields and blasters, he walked slowly forward into the advancing enemy ranks, each sweeping glance turning scores more Ahuat soldiers into silver.
And all around Meduso was war.
Soldiers on both sides ran and dodged, shot and sliced, struck and screamed, lived and died, as Teno tanks and unseen Ahuat micro-weapons dispensed destruction and death.
War continued until the oranges and blues of early evening filled the sky, until it was finally clear that the Teno Empire had prevailed. A few hand-to-hand battles still dotted the periphery of the open lands of the Domain. But with most of the surviving Ahuat having retreated into nearby Tosi, or back North to their settlement, the battle was mostly over.
A devastating number of Teno soldiers lay dead on the grounds of the Domain. But the majority of the casualties, whether silver or flesh and bone, were Ahuat soldiers.
Meduso made his way back across the Domain to the rear of the Teno regiment. When he reached their transport, Euralo crawled out, ran and threw his arms around Meduso.
“Are you okay brother?” Meduso asked.
“Yes, are you?” Euralo replied.
“I am saddened, but doing what I did was the right decision,” Meduso said.
General Delab approached them. “Without you, this would have been a tough fight to win,” the General confirmed. “If we hadn’t been able to cut through quickly and take down the Ahuat’s micro-weapon deployment system, they might have prevailed.”
“Now what, General?” Meduso asked.
“A legion of our soldiers will remain and drive any remaining Ahuat from Tosi and Juato,” General Delab replied. “We’ll assess what needs to be done to secure those cities and rebuild any damage caused by the Ahuat. We’ll request additional resources from Teno if needed.”
“And what of our dead?” Meduso asked.
“It will take some time, weeks likely, to resolve the casualties,” the General replied. “We will bury some here, in the gravesite outside of Tosi, and others will be transported back to Teno. We will work with the families of the fallen soldiers to make sure their desires are considered.”
Meduso and Euralo shared a glance.
“But right now,” the General concluded, “the majority of the regiment will escort you home.”
Meduso contemplated making a speech to those gathered, but decided against it, since the battle-worn soldiers were already loading up into the transports and moving out. He and Euralo shook the General’s hand, and climbed into their transport, which quickly joined the other departing tanks and transports as they all departed the Domain.
Within minutes, Euralo was fast asleep, his body void of armor and robes, his head on Meduso’s lap. Meduso ran his fingers through Euralo’s long, dark hair.
While he was proud of his brother’s performance at the start of the day’s battle, he was struck by a sadness that Euralo was being forced to grow up so quickly. There would be so many more conflicts–military, political and personal–in his future. Meduso would try and shield Euralo as best he could. But soon, the flood of adulthood would overwhelm him, as happens to all souls.
Lulled by the whirr and jostle of the transport, Meduso closed his eyes. His thoughts were of blue-eyed Ahno. He wished that he could wrap his warm mechanical limbs around Ahno’s naked body, as the young man grieved the loss of his Father, and sobbed himself to sleep.
The scouts sent word to the Ahuat leader, a clever and feared man named Seso Eko, that the Teno army would arrive at late-sun at the open lands known as the Domain on the following day.
The rules of engagement called for a face-to-face meeting between Seso Eko and the leader of the Teno Empire. In order to sow both confusion and a false sense of advantage, the scouts conveyed conflicting rumors regarding the state of the Teno Empire, and who would arrive to meet with Seso Eko–one of the rumors being that it would be the former King’s youngest son, Euralo, a boy of only fifteen.
The Ahuat were known to be volatile and rebellious. So, Meduso could only hope that Seso Eko would adhere to the rules of engagement, and would want to size-up the Teno Empire’s army and its leader face-to-face, before the battle commenced.
Meduso just hoped to the Gods that they weren’t walking into a trap.
Transports and tanks moved North from Teno across the desert, past ranches, farms, small towns and outposts for the better part of a day until Meduso saw, out the window of their mechanical steed-drawn transport, the skyline of the border town of Tosi on the horizon.
“Are you ready for this?” Meduso asked Euralo, who sat next to him, wearing newly-crafted armor and robes befitting a boy King.
“As long as you’re by my side,” Euralo replied.
The caravan of Teno transports, vehicles and soldiers arrived at the Domain, and the Ahuat army was visible on the far side of the vast, open space. As the soldiers and vehicles got into formation, Euralo and Meduso climbed out of their transport. Meduso followed Euralo to the front of the formation, and was joined by three other men wearing similar robes. At once, Meduso and the three men pulled hoods over their heads.
Meduso’s serpents slid under his hood, content to be shielded from the bright afternoon sun.
Euralo nodded to General Delab. A wailing buzz emanated from the rear of the legion, and they moved forward, Euralo front and center, Meduso to Euralo’s far right, General Delab to the far left, the robed decoys between them, and the massive formations of soldiers and tanks behind them.
They walked until the sun set on the horizon, until the two armies met in the middle of the Domain. Facing Euralo and his four hooded agents was Seso Eko, a younger man that looked like he could be Eko's son, and four other men that looked like military leaders. All of them carried weapons of some sort–swords, armswords, vibro-blades and blasters–and were dressed in armor and undermesh that looked rustic but substantial.
Seso Eko alone wore robes made of pelts and fine fabrics, fabrics that were as blue as his eyes. His handsome face was bearded, while the younger man standing next to him was clean shaven.
Meduso peered out from under his hood and eyed the younger man, whose body looked lean but strong under the armor. The man’s stance and slight shuffle matched the nervous expression on his face, which was captivating to Meduso. It was the expression of a virgin moments before being penetrated and all innocence being stripped away.
In that last moment of silence, Meduso felt a profound sadness. He would never get to experience gazing into the young man’s inherited blue eyes, or manipulate his body to a shared release, as the man and the majority of those around him would, in moments, be dead.
“I am Seso Eko, leader of the Ahuat Empire,” Eko declared. “This is my son, Ahno,” he said, motioning to the young man next to him. “And these are my commanders, and behind them the unified army of the Ahuat Empire.”
“I am Euralo Onzal, King of the Teno Empire,” Euralo said with conviction. “These are my military agents and advisors. And behind us is the military force of the Teno Empire.”
“My condolences on the death of your Father,” Eko said. “Conflicting rumors reached us with opposing news. One insisted that your brother Stheno would be standing here today, the other that your brother Meduso was indeed alive and that he instead would be here today. So, we were not expecting to be facing a lad with barely a trace of fuzz on his ballsac.”
Meduso kept his gaze low, hoping that Euralo would respond appropriately to the insult.
“My brother Stheno lost his life recently in a tragic accident,” Euralo replied calmly. “And my brother Meduso was decapitated and killed, and is still dead, as far as I’m aware. I stand here as my Father’s son, King and heir to the throne of the Teno Empire, calm and steadfast, and fully confident in the ability of the army that stands behind me. Which is more than I can say for your son, Ahno there, who looks like he’s about to urinate himself, run away and hide behind his nanny.”
Meduso gave an imperceptible smirk, filled with pride at his brother’s words and grit.
“How dare you insult my son with such words,” Eko replied.
At that moment, there was a commotion at the far back of the ranks of the Teno army. Meduso turned and saw their soldiers at the back of the regiment leave formation, drop their weapons to the ground, and wave their arms wildly. He realized that whatever was happening, it likely involved the airborne micro-weapons that General Delab had mentioned in the War Room.
Meduso made eye contact with the General and caught his nod. And with that Meduso stepped forward in front of Euralo and removed the hood from his head. Meduso’s full den of serpents rose erect and he locked eyes with Seso Eko, who instantly turned to silver.
From Eko’s central position, Meduso swept his gaze left and right, and in moments, the scores of Ahuat soldiers nearest him turned to silver. Some remained in an upright position, and some topped onto the ground. Those who happened by chance to avoid Meduso’s gaze stood frozen in place, stunned by what they were seeing, or ran away in the opposite direction.
When Meduso saw Eko’s son Ahno standing frozen, staring at his Father, who was now a solid silver statue of his former self, he forced his serpents back into their dormant position.
At that moment, Ahno looked up, his blue eyes locked onto Meduso’s, and time seemed to stop. A lifetime of words and expressions, fears and dreams flowed between the two. It was as if they had known each other forever. At least that was Meduso’s experience, as he stood entranced in lust and perceived love by the young Ahno.
When a nearby explosion snapped them both back to the present, Ahno blinked and Meduso nodded.
“Run,” Meduso mouthed to Ahno.
With that, Ahno turned and ran away from Meduso, weaving through static, silver soldiers and still-living, advancing soldiers until Meduso could no longer see him.
As Meduso saw one of the hooded decoys grab Euralo’s shoulder and lead his brother away from danger toward the back of their regiment, Meduso’s serpents again lurched to attention. Flanked by a handful of Teno soldiers carrying shields and blasters, he walked slowly forward into the advancing enemy ranks, each sweeping glance turning scores more Ahuat soldiers into silver.
And all around Meduso was war.
Soldiers on both sides ran and dodged, shot and sliced, struck and screamed, lived and died, as Teno tanks and unseen Ahuat micro-weapons dispensed destruction and death.
War continued until the oranges and blues of early evening filled the sky, until it was finally clear that the Teno Empire had prevailed. A few hand-to-hand battles still dotted the periphery of the open lands of the Domain. But with most of the surviving Ahuat having retreated into nearby Tosi, or back North to their settlement, the battle was mostly over.
A devastating number of Teno soldiers lay dead on the grounds of the Domain. But the majority of the casualties, whether silver or flesh and bone, were Ahuat soldiers.
Meduso made his way back across the Domain to the rear of the Teno regiment. When he reached their transport, Euralo crawled out, ran and threw his arms around Meduso.
“Are you okay brother?” Meduso asked.
“Yes, are you?” Euralo replied.
“I am saddened, but doing what I did was the right decision,” Meduso said.
General Delab approached them. “Without you, this would have been a tough fight to win,” the General confirmed. “If we hadn’t been able to cut through quickly and take down the Ahuat’s micro-weapon deployment system, they might have prevailed.”
“Now what, General?” Meduso asked.
“A legion of our soldiers will remain and drive any remaining Ahuat from Tosi and Juato,” General Delab replied. “We’ll assess what needs to be done to secure those cities and rebuild any damage caused by the Ahuat. We’ll request additional resources from Teno if needed.”
“And what of our dead?” Meduso asked.
“It will take some time, weeks likely, to resolve the casualties,” the General replied. “We will bury some here, in the gravesite outside of Tosi, and others will be transported back to Teno. We will work with the families of the fallen soldiers to make sure their desires are considered.”
Meduso and Euralo shared a glance.
“But right now,” the General concluded, “the majority of the regiment will escort you home.”
Meduso contemplated making a speech to those gathered, but decided against it, since the battle-worn soldiers were already loading up into the transports and moving out. He and Euralo shook the General’s hand, and climbed into their transport, which quickly joined the other departing tanks and transports as they all departed the Domain.
Within minutes, Euralo was fast asleep, his body void of armor and robes, his head on Meduso’s lap. Meduso ran his fingers through Euralo’s long, dark hair.
While he was proud of his brother’s performance at the start of the day’s battle, he was struck by a sadness that Euralo was being forced to grow up so quickly. There would be so many more conflicts–military, political and personal–in his future. Meduso would try and shield Euralo as best he could. But soon, the flood of adulthood would overwhelm him, as happens to all souls.
Lulled by the whirr and jostle of the transport, Meduso closed his eyes. His thoughts were of blue-eyed Ahno. He wished that he could wrap his warm mechanical limbs around Ahno’s naked body, as the young man grieved the loss of his Father, and sobbed himself to sleep.
. . .
Word spread quickly across Xtec that Meduso and his Teno army had defeated the Ahuat.
The Silver Slaughter, as it would be known in future folktales and military lessons, would become legend throughout time, and would elevate Meduso beyond his station of King to a status approaching a God.
The Domain would become a protected site, a historical landmark. The legion of silver soldiers, forever frozen in time, was a striking and gruesome reminder of the might of Meduso and his Empire. The site would largely be untouched over the eras, and only occasionally would one of the silver soldiers be stolen, or chipped into pieces, melted down and sold on the black market at a premium.
Meduso and his soldiers returned to Teno to a hero’s welcome, with parades, celebrations and fireworks punctuating their victory. And Meduso celebrated in his own way.
There was no lack of men interested in being in the new King’s company. Lavish parties attended by the Empire's most fashionable influentials gave Meduso his pick of attractive men, young and old. His instincts and attraction would result in each night ending with one of them in his bedchamber.
Most nights, Meduso found himself in the dominant role. His looks, impressive mechanical body, and writhing serpents made him a marvel to behold, and were enough to mesmerize his target into letting him inside them. His gentle power brought them to the cosmos and back, over and over, until the sun rose the following morning.
And once, in the private, after-party company of one of the Empire’s finest craftsmen–a woodworker who carved magnificent candlesticks and sculptures, an older man with a kind, handsome face and silver hair–Meduso assumed the submissive position for the first time with his mechanical body. He arched his back and lowered himself onto the woodworker. His synthetic nerves, internal materials, and the control he had over the synthetic muscles around his opening, made the experience every bit as pleasurable as with his old organic body.
“My King,” the woodworker said looking up, his rough hands on Meduso’s hips, as Meduso rode gravity and felt the woodworker’s warm loyalty flow into him.
One morning, after one such encounter, Pegas knocked and entered Meduso’s dim bedchamber to find him alone in his massive bed, swiping at his holo. She pushed a button on the metal wall next to the door, and the glass tint faded on all the soaring windows, letting beams of morning sunlight into the room.
“Wake ‘em up, King sunshine,” Pegas bellowed.
“Pegas,” Meduso whined, pulling the satin sheet over his head. “Darkness is a cure for the previous night’s revelry. Darkness and silence, if you please.”
Pegas, her red hair tied back and wearing sleeping robes, walked over to the bed, sat down at its edge and pulled the sheet away from Meduso’s face.
“Meduso,” she said, “have you talked to Euralo since you returned from the battle?”
“Yes,” Meduso replied. “We had breakfast together yesterday. And we started playing that holo game again, the one we played together years ago.”
“And how did he seem?” Pegas asked.
“Seem?” Meduso said. “He seemed, I don’t know, like my fifteen year old brother.”
“Did he seem like he just lost his brother, Stheno, who you killed?” Pegas asked. “Did he seem like he lost his Father, who he brutally murdered with his own hands? Did he seem like he had a front row seat to the Silver Slaughter? Did he seem like his only living brother came back from the dead and is mostly a machine?”
“Okay, you made your point,” Meduso replied quietly. “He has been through a lot.”
“Yes, he has,” Pegas said. “And since you returned home, you’ve been up here romping around with countless men every night, and blind to the fact that Euralo has no family now. No parents, no other brothers, except you.”
“I’ll talk to him, really talk to him, today,” Meduso replied.
“Splendid,” Pegas exclaimed. “More importantly, do any of these scoundrels you’re hooking up with have attractive brothers? Your Pegas needs herself a good man.”
The Silver Slaughter, as it would be known in future folktales and military lessons, would become legend throughout time, and would elevate Meduso beyond his station of King to a status approaching a God.
The Domain would become a protected site, a historical landmark. The legion of silver soldiers, forever frozen in time, was a striking and gruesome reminder of the might of Meduso and his Empire. The site would largely be untouched over the eras, and only occasionally would one of the silver soldiers be stolen, or chipped into pieces, melted down and sold on the black market at a premium.
Meduso and his soldiers returned to Teno to a hero’s welcome, with parades, celebrations and fireworks punctuating their victory. And Meduso celebrated in his own way.
There was no lack of men interested in being in the new King’s company. Lavish parties attended by the Empire's most fashionable influentials gave Meduso his pick of attractive men, young and old. His instincts and attraction would result in each night ending with one of them in his bedchamber.
Most nights, Meduso found himself in the dominant role. His looks, impressive mechanical body, and writhing serpents made him a marvel to behold, and were enough to mesmerize his target into letting him inside them. His gentle power brought them to the cosmos and back, over and over, until the sun rose the following morning.
And once, in the private, after-party company of one of the Empire’s finest craftsmen–a woodworker who carved magnificent candlesticks and sculptures, an older man with a kind, handsome face and silver hair–Meduso assumed the submissive position for the first time with his mechanical body. He arched his back and lowered himself onto the woodworker. His synthetic nerves, internal materials, and the control he had over the synthetic muscles around his opening, made the experience every bit as pleasurable as with his old organic body.
“My King,” the woodworker said looking up, his rough hands on Meduso’s hips, as Meduso rode gravity and felt the woodworker’s warm loyalty flow into him.
One morning, after one such encounter, Pegas knocked and entered Meduso’s dim bedchamber to find him alone in his massive bed, swiping at his holo. She pushed a button on the metal wall next to the door, and the glass tint faded on all the soaring windows, letting beams of morning sunlight into the room.
“Wake ‘em up, King sunshine,” Pegas bellowed.
“Pegas,” Meduso whined, pulling the satin sheet over his head. “Darkness is a cure for the previous night’s revelry. Darkness and silence, if you please.”
Pegas, her red hair tied back and wearing sleeping robes, walked over to the bed, sat down at its edge and pulled the sheet away from Meduso’s face.
“Meduso,” she said, “have you talked to Euralo since you returned from the battle?”
“Yes,” Meduso replied. “We had breakfast together yesterday. And we started playing that holo game again, the one we played together years ago.”
“And how did he seem?” Pegas asked.
“Seem?” Meduso said. “He seemed, I don’t know, like my fifteen year old brother.”
“Did he seem like he just lost his brother, Stheno, who you killed?” Pegas asked. “Did he seem like he lost his Father, who he brutally murdered with his own hands? Did he seem like he had a front row seat to the Silver Slaughter? Did he seem like his only living brother came back from the dead and is mostly a machine?”
“Okay, you made your point,” Meduso replied quietly. “He has been through a lot.”
“Yes, he has,” Pegas said. “And since you returned home, you’ve been up here romping around with countless men every night, and blind to the fact that Euralo has no family now. No parents, no other brothers, except you.”
“I’ll talk to him, really talk to him, today,” Meduso replied.
“Splendid,” Pegas exclaimed. “More importantly, do any of these scoundrels you’re hooking up with have attractive brothers? Your Pegas needs herself a good man.”
. . .
“Brother, I regret that we haven’t talked about important things sooner,” Meduso said to Euralo that night.
They had a delicious dinner of stuffed chiles and rice with caramel flan for dessert, and now sat across the table from each other in Meduso’s quarters. Euralo’s stomach was full, while Meduso’s artificial stomach had sensors that did an adequate job of replicating the sensation of being full.
“It’s okay,” Euralo said quietly.
“Except, it’s not,” Meduso insisted. “We’re both the only true family that each other has now. I should have been sensitive to that, and made sure that you’re okay, after all that’s recently happened. I have succeeded in so many ways, but I feel I’ve failed you, when you’ve needed me most.”
“I am stronger than you think, Meduso,” Euralo replied. “We’ve both had to do things recently, either to remain alive, or to secure the throne. I have no regrets for what I’ve done, nor should you.”
“When did you become so strong and wise?” Meduso said, and they shared a smile. “Is there anything else weighing on you that it would help you to talk about?”
Euralo looked toward the floor, then back up at Meduso. “Every night, since we returned home from the battle, you, uh–” Euralo said. “There are men that come to your bedchamber.”
“Yes,” Meduso confirmed. “And I think you’re old enough to know why.”
“I’ve known for some time that you, uh, you like the company of men for intimacy,” Euralo said. “But, I guess I just don’t understand. You actually like it when you, uh, when they put their, you know, in your–”
“Euralo,” Meduso interrupted, “that is something that you never need to understand or even think about if you don’t want to. I am not ashamed of my sexuality. But what people like and want in terms of intimacy is different for everyone. As you get older, you’ll discover what it is you like and don’t like. And whatever that is, it will be up to you and no one else.”
“The men that you're physical with. Do you love them?” Euralo asked.
Meduso was taken aback by such a direct question from his little brother. He took a swig of mezcal and set the glass back onto the table before he answered.
“I can’t say that I do,” Meduso replied. “I want them, I see something beautiful in them, and want to be physical with them. Sometimes I just want to be naked and vulnerable. And sometimes I want to control them, show them physically that they have no power and have given it all to me. I would say it's more lust than love.”
“Have you ever been in love?” Euralo asked.
“Yes, once,” Meduso replied. “It was a young man that I met on holiday at Mistfall when I was younger, you were just a little boy. He was kind and beautiful, and we spent the whole mid-year together. We would swim and walk and talk and eat together. We would sneak outside at night and meet by the falls. I was shy then, and he took my face in his hands and he kissed me. I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling since that night.”
“And what happened?” asked Euralo.
“The holiday ended and he left, and I left, and I never saw him again,” Meduso said, a tear in the corner of his organic eye.
“That’s sad,” said Euralo.
“That is life,” Meduso replied. “Life is sad. People come into your life, and then they leave you.”
“There’s a girl in my afternoon lessons,” Euralo said.
“A girl? What is this girl’s name?” Meduso asked, smiling, relieved to be moving the conversation away from himself.
“Her name is Nalia,” Euralo replied. “She has dark, braided hair and beautiful eyes. When I’m alone at night, I watch nog streams on my holo and ejaculate while I watch them. But when I think of Nalia, I don’t think about that stuff. I just want to sit with her and hold her hand and talk to her. Is that weird?”
“Not weird at all,” Meduso replied. “It is beautiful and pure, and I hope you get to do that with her. You are young, Euralo, you will have plenty of time to explore your sexuality. But there’s no rush. How fast or slow you do that is completely up to you.”
“What happens now?” asked Euralo. “I mean, with us, with the Empire. You’re the King now.”
“Apparently, I am,” Meduso replied with a smile. “Well, it’s just you and me now. As for ‘us’, we will do whatever we need to do to support each other. You will remain in your classes, and I will try and keep your life and routines as stable as possible. I will do what I can to keep the Empire safe and prosperous. I will consolidate support from the politicians, advisors and military leaders, and try to root out any threats or opposition. I will do what I can to make the lives of our subjects better. And there will be, without a doubt, more battles and threats to the Empire. We will remain alert and deal with those as they arise.”
“What about Perseo?” Euralo asked.
“I haven’t decided,” Meduso replied, taking another swig of mezcal, looking off into space.
“What is there to decide?” Euralo asked forcefully. “He cut your head off, and then came back to end you. He’s a formidable threat, one that it seems like you should rid yourself of.”
“He is no threat, as long as he remains locked up and under watch,” Meduso replied.
Euralo eyed Meduso. “Are you hesitating because you still have some kind of feelings for him?” Euralo asked.
“I am not hesitating out of weakness,” Meduso replied. “But I am the King now. My decisions have repercussions and affect more than just myself. I just want to be thoughtful and make sure I’m making the right decision when it comes to Perseo, or any other topic or situation that is in front of me.”
“I understand,” Euralo replied, with a subtle expression that indicated that he was still concerned and unconvinced by his brother’s words. He pushed his chair away from the table, stood up and walked around to Meduso. “You are the King, and I trust that whatever you decide is the best course of action. You take care of the Empire, and we will take care of each other.”
Meduso stood up and put his arms around Euralo. “That we will,” Meduso replied.
They had a delicious dinner of stuffed chiles and rice with caramel flan for dessert, and now sat across the table from each other in Meduso’s quarters. Euralo’s stomach was full, while Meduso’s artificial stomach had sensors that did an adequate job of replicating the sensation of being full.
“It’s okay,” Euralo said quietly.
“Except, it’s not,” Meduso insisted. “We’re both the only true family that each other has now. I should have been sensitive to that, and made sure that you’re okay, after all that’s recently happened. I have succeeded in so many ways, but I feel I’ve failed you, when you’ve needed me most.”
“I am stronger than you think, Meduso,” Euralo replied. “We’ve both had to do things recently, either to remain alive, or to secure the throne. I have no regrets for what I’ve done, nor should you.”
“When did you become so strong and wise?” Meduso said, and they shared a smile. “Is there anything else weighing on you that it would help you to talk about?”
Euralo looked toward the floor, then back up at Meduso. “Every night, since we returned home from the battle, you, uh–” Euralo said. “There are men that come to your bedchamber.”
“Yes,” Meduso confirmed. “And I think you’re old enough to know why.”
“I’ve known for some time that you, uh, you like the company of men for intimacy,” Euralo said. “But, I guess I just don’t understand. You actually like it when you, uh, when they put their, you know, in your–”
“Euralo,” Meduso interrupted, “that is something that you never need to understand or even think about if you don’t want to. I am not ashamed of my sexuality. But what people like and want in terms of intimacy is different for everyone. As you get older, you’ll discover what it is you like and don’t like. And whatever that is, it will be up to you and no one else.”
“The men that you're physical with. Do you love them?” Euralo asked.
Meduso was taken aback by such a direct question from his little brother. He took a swig of mezcal and set the glass back onto the table before he answered.
“I can’t say that I do,” Meduso replied. “I want them, I see something beautiful in them, and want to be physical with them. Sometimes I just want to be naked and vulnerable. And sometimes I want to control them, show them physically that they have no power and have given it all to me. I would say it's more lust than love.”
“Have you ever been in love?” Euralo asked.
“Yes, once,” Meduso replied. “It was a young man that I met on holiday at Mistfall when I was younger, you were just a little boy. He was kind and beautiful, and we spent the whole mid-year together. We would swim and walk and talk and eat together. We would sneak outside at night and meet by the falls. I was shy then, and he took my face in his hands and he kissed me. I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling since that night.”
“And what happened?” asked Euralo.
“The holiday ended and he left, and I left, and I never saw him again,” Meduso said, a tear in the corner of his organic eye.
“That’s sad,” said Euralo.
“That is life,” Meduso replied. “Life is sad. People come into your life, and then they leave you.”
“There’s a girl in my afternoon lessons,” Euralo said.
“A girl? What is this girl’s name?” Meduso asked, smiling, relieved to be moving the conversation away from himself.
“Her name is Nalia,” Euralo replied. “She has dark, braided hair and beautiful eyes. When I’m alone at night, I watch nog streams on my holo and ejaculate while I watch them. But when I think of Nalia, I don’t think about that stuff. I just want to sit with her and hold her hand and talk to her. Is that weird?”
“Not weird at all,” Meduso replied. “It is beautiful and pure, and I hope you get to do that with her. You are young, Euralo, you will have plenty of time to explore your sexuality. But there’s no rush. How fast or slow you do that is completely up to you.”
“What happens now?” asked Euralo. “I mean, with us, with the Empire. You’re the King now.”
“Apparently, I am,” Meduso replied with a smile. “Well, it’s just you and me now. As for ‘us’, we will do whatever we need to do to support each other. You will remain in your classes, and I will try and keep your life and routines as stable as possible. I will do what I can to keep the Empire safe and prosperous. I will consolidate support from the politicians, advisors and military leaders, and try to root out any threats or opposition. I will do what I can to make the lives of our subjects better. And there will be, without a doubt, more battles and threats to the Empire. We will remain alert and deal with those as they arise.”
“What about Perseo?” Euralo asked.
“I haven’t decided,” Meduso replied, taking another swig of mezcal, looking off into space.
“What is there to decide?” Euralo asked forcefully. “He cut your head off, and then came back to end you. He’s a formidable threat, one that it seems like you should rid yourself of.”
“He is no threat, as long as he remains locked up and under watch,” Meduso replied.
Euralo eyed Meduso. “Are you hesitating because you still have some kind of feelings for him?” Euralo asked.
“I am not hesitating out of weakness,” Meduso replied. “But I am the King now. My decisions have repercussions and affect more than just myself. I just want to be thoughtful and make sure I’m making the right decision when it comes to Perseo, or any other topic or situation that is in front of me.”
“I understand,” Euralo replied, with a subtle expression that indicated that he was still concerned and unconvinced by his brother’s words. He pushed his chair away from the table, stood up and walked around to Meduso. “You are the King, and I trust that whatever you decide is the best course of action. You take care of the Empire, and we will take care of each other.”
Meduso stood up and put his arms around Euralo. “That we will,” Meduso replied.
. . .
The sun rose the following day, a sight unseen by Perseo, who was confined in a dark cell in the depths of the Palace.
The dark days ran together, and Perseo had stopped counting how many had passed since he was imprisoned.
The dark days ran together, and Perseo had stopped counting how many had passed since he was imprisoned.
In an odd change of routine, his food and water rations had been withheld for some time, so when the bread and pitcher of water was pushed into his cell minutes ago, he gladly chewed and swallowed the bread ravenously, and gulped the water down.
As Perseo sat on the stone floor, stripped of his weapons and armor and fondling the metal shackle around his ankle, he noticed that the guard who usually stood outside the cell was absent. He had tried to win favor with several of the guards on various shifts, and attempted to bribe them into freeing him, but with no luck.
The days in the dark cell had dimmed his rage. But the desire to enact revenge on Meduso flickered in the back of Perseo’s mind, ready to be stoked back to a blinding inferno with any hint of an alliance or event that would enable his freedom.
As if by some miracle, the sound of two beeps and a metal click was followed by the shackle falling off of Perseo’s ankle onto the stone floor. He blinked and looked up toward the thick metal bars on the door of the cell.
Standing on the other side of the bars was Euralo.
“Small brother of Meduso,” Perseo said. “What brings you to the depths of the Palace?”
“I may be small,” Euralo replied, “but I am the future King of the Empire.”
“Is that why you are here talking to me?” Perseo asked, standing up and kicking the shackle across the floor. “Is there some kind of an alliance that you have in mind? Are you here to give me my freedom?”
“Yes,” Euralo said quietly. “But it's not the freedom you think.”
A wave of dizziness washed over Perseo. He put his hand to his head and staggered to one side, fighting to remain on his feet.
“What have you done, devious imp?” Perseo uttered.
“I am compensating for my brother’s weaknesses,” Euralo replied. “Did you enjoy your breakfast of bread and water this morning?”
Perseo stumbled sideways in the other direction toward the metal wall, and propped himself against it. “When I get out of here, I will cut your little head off and feed it to my hounds!” he yelled. He thrust himself forward toward Euralo and grasped the bars of the cell door with both of his fists. “Then, I will take a sledge to your brother’s metal limbs and rip the hissing serpents from his precious head one by one, as he screams for mercy!” he spat as his legs gave way and he fell to his knees.
Euralo stood a meter from the bars of the cell door and stared stone-faced at Perseo.
“No one loves you, or will miss you when you’re gone,” Euralo said quietly.
“I will not die this way, in this cell, with a mere boy, no one and nothing–” Perseo said, interrupted by a gush of vomit from his mouth that splashed down across his chest onto the floor. “Ugh, arrgh–” he gasped and choked, falling fully and finally to the stone floor, rolling onto his back, his hands grasping his neck.
After a moment more of writhing and kicking, Perseo was quiet and still, his eyes open in a blank gaze toward the dark ceiling.
As Perseo sat on the stone floor, stripped of his weapons and armor and fondling the metal shackle around his ankle, he noticed that the guard who usually stood outside the cell was absent. He had tried to win favor with several of the guards on various shifts, and attempted to bribe them into freeing him, but with no luck.
The days in the dark cell had dimmed his rage. But the desire to enact revenge on Meduso flickered in the back of Perseo’s mind, ready to be stoked back to a blinding inferno with any hint of an alliance or event that would enable his freedom.
As if by some miracle, the sound of two beeps and a metal click was followed by the shackle falling off of Perseo’s ankle onto the stone floor. He blinked and looked up toward the thick metal bars on the door of the cell.
Standing on the other side of the bars was Euralo.
“Small brother of Meduso,” Perseo said. “What brings you to the depths of the Palace?”
“I may be small,” Euralo replied, “but I am the future King of the Empire.”
“Is that why you are here talking to me?” Perseo asked, standing up and kicking the shackle across the floor. “Is there some kind of an alliance that you have in mind? Are you here to give me my freedom?”
“Yes,” Euralo said quietly. “But it's not the freedom you think.”
A wave of dizziness washed over Perseo. He put his hand to his head and staggered to one side, fighting to remain on his feet.
“What have you done, devious imp?” Perseo uttered.
“I am compensating for my brother’s weaknesses,” Euralo replied. “Did you enjoy your breakfast of bread and water this morning?”
Perseo stumbled sideways in the other direction toward the metal wall, and propped himself against it. “When I get out of here, I will cut your little head off and feed it to my hounds!” he yelled. He thrust himself forward toward Euralo and grasped the bars of the cell door with both of his fists. “Then, I will take a sledge to your brother’s metal limbs and rip the hissing serpents from his precious head one by one, as he screams for mercy!” he spat as his legs gave way and he fell to his knees.
Euralo stood a meter from the bars of the cell door and stared stone-faced at Perseo.
“No one loves you, or will miss you when you’re gone,” Euralo said quietly.
“I will not die this way, in this cell, with a mere boy, no one and nothing–” Perseo said, interrupted by a gush of vomit from his mouth that splashed down across his chest onto the floor. “Ugh, arrgh–” he gasped and choked, falling fully and finally to the stone floor, rolling onto his back, his hands grasping his neck.
After a moment more of writhing and kicking, Perseo was quiet and still, his eyes open in a blank gaze toward the dark ceiling.
Euralo pressed a code into the pad next to the cell door and the door slid open. He walked into the cell and stood over the deceased Perseo, looking down at him. He then stepped over him and sat down, straddling Perseo’s chest. He leaned down and put his face close to Perseo’s, pretending to kiss him, without letting their lips touch.
He then sat back up, and in a series of movements of his legs, hips, torso and arms, pretended to ride Perseo sexually, awkwardly mimicking what he had seen Meduso do once on top of Perseo, as he had peered in through the window from Meduso’s bedchamber terraza and observed their carnal intercourse.
Abruptly, Euralo stopped, having come to some understanding of something he wanted to understand. He stood up and kicked Perseo’s head, twisting it with a cracking sound to the side.
Euralo stepped over Perseo’s corpse, walked out of the cell and away down the hallway.
He and Meduso had vowed to take care of each other. And Euralo was going to do whatever it took to live up to that promise, especially if Meduso insisted on risking their lives and the Empire by letting lust and nostalgia cloud his judgment.
Euralo stepped over Perseo’s corpse, walked out of the cell and away down the hallway.
He and Meduso had vowed to take care of each other. And Euralo was going to do whatever it took to live up to that promise, especially if Meduso insisted on risking their lives and the Empire by letting lust and nostalgia cloud his judgment.
