Chapter 27: Chapter 27. She's Mine

With a population of over 1.2 million in the larger metropolitan area and over 200,000 within the city limits, Salt Lake City, located in northern Utah, is both the capital and largest city of the state.

Located in the Salt Lake Valley, the city is encircled by the magnificent Wasatch and Oquirrh mountain ranges, and the Great Salt Lake forms its eastern boundary; this makes for a very gorgeous geographical environment. This huge saltwater lake has been instrumental in the growth and development of the area, and its name is taken from it.

The city's rich history and cultural heritage are reflected in its many notable attractions, including the iconic Salt Lake Temple, the vibrant Temple Square, and the Utah Olympic Park, which hosted the 2002 Winter Olympics.

A city that embodied the same values Athena held dear: excellence, perseverance, and a relentless pursuit of greatness. The Olympic flame that had once burnt brightly within its borders seemed to still flicker, illuminating the very essence of this city's being.

Athena stood, her regal features etched with a mix of disbelief and displeasure. "Medusa is what?" she demanded

For centuries, the goddess had believed the twisted tales whirled about her former lover—the once-beautiful maiden she cursed to turn her beautiful looks to serpentine hair and a gaze that could turn onlookers to stone. It was widely known among the Olympians that Poseidon, the sea god, had insatiable desires, and Athena had been convinced that the exiled Medusa had given in to his seductions.

Everything that Athena had presumed about Medusa's history was completely false. The goddess had been misled into believing twisted myths, but now she knew the truth was far more complicated and heartbreaking.

It was Athena's assumption that Medusa had given in to Poseidon's advances that was wrong. The sea deity had instead brutally violated the lovely maiden, dishonouring the temple that Athena herself had cherished. Athena cursed Medusa for this horrific deed, turning her hair into an assembly of serpents and giving her the ability to make everyone who looked at her turn to stone.

Athena started berating herself for jumping to conclusions and putting greater faith in the biassed tales than in Medusa's own testimony. When it came to dealing with the illicit and senseless gods, especially Poseidon, she should have known better.

As the consequences of her past deeds became more apparent, Athena's face turned darker. Unjustly, she had cast Medusa out of her life and denied her the chance at redemption that she truly merited.

The goddess's mind wandered to three Olympian brothers, Poseidon and Zeus, whose habit of meddling with human and demi-god lives was widely known. Those two are such charmers, and often in love with humans, have children with them. In contrast to his impulsive brothers, Hades remained faithful to his queen, Persephone, and served as lord of the underworld.

But now, one of Athena's own priestesses stood before her, uttering words that shattered the goddess's preconceptions. "Medusa is in love with a human female," the acolyte revealed, her voice soft yet unyielding.

For years, Athena had meticulously tracked Medusa's movements, keenly aware of the demigod's every step. Despite banishing her former protégé to a life of exile, the goddess had remained vigilant, her watchful gaze never wavering.

Yet Athena had not acted upon her knowledge, for Medusa had done nothing to warrant further divine intervention. Instead, the cursed maiden had quietly carved out a life for herself, far from the mortal world she had once known. Athena had observed as Medusa shared her hard-won wisdom with the humans—the very insights the goddess had once imparted to her trusted companion.

Now, Athena stood before her acolyte; her eyes narrowed with a renewed sense of purpose. "Where is she now?" the goddess demanded, her voice laced with a hint of urgency.

"She's currently in the Silicon Valley," the priestess replied, her tone measured.

Athena's brow furrowed. "Her house?" the goddess pressed.

"No, she's now residing in Longyearbyen," the acolyte revealed.

Athena's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected response. Longyearbyen, a remote town tucked in the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard, was a place as far removed from the mortal realm as one could imagine. "Another remote area. What was she doing there?" the goddess enquired, her curiosity piqued.

The priestess hesitated for a moment, weighing her words carefully. "Away from the humans and from the gods and goddesses," she answered, her gaze unwavering.

Athena fell silent, the depth of the situation dawning on her. Medusa, the once-cursed demigod, had sought refuge in the furthest reaches of the world, intentionally distancing herself from both the mortal realm and the hands of the divine. It was a testament to the depth of her pain and the trauma she had endured at the hands of the gods.

"Humans can't protect her; I can," the goddess stated, her voice firm and unwavering.

The priestess met Athena's stare, her expression sombre. "You banished her once," she reminded the goddess, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air.

Athena felt a twinge of guilt at the subtle rebuke; she had wrongfully condemned Medusa, driving her away and robbing her of the life she deserved. And now, as Medusa had found a newfound happiness, Athena didn't want it to be from others, especially a mortal.

"Get ready, let's go to Silicon Valley," Athena proclaimed, her voice brimming with a renewed sense of purpose.

The acolyte hesitated for a moment; her brow furrowed in uncertainty. "Are you sure?" she questioned, the weight of Athena's past transgressions still lingering in the air.

The goddess met the priestess's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm a goddess," Athena declared, her tone brooking no argument. "What can a mere mortal do with me?"

The actress hesitated, her gaze meeting Athena's with a touch of trepidation. "Pardon my impudence, but she's happy with that human woman, goddess Athena," she replied, her voice tinged with a note of caution.

It was true that, as a goddess, she commanded a power that mortals could scarcely comprehend. Even the demigods of the Olympian pantheon would struggle to stand against her might. And yet, it was that very power, wielded without care or wisdom, that had led to Medusa's downfall.

The goddess acknowledged the truth in the Acolyte's words. Medusa had found a measure of peace and happiness in the embrace of a human lover—a fragile but precious balance that Athena should not disrupt. The demigod had already endured so much, her very identity and existence shattered by the cruel power of the gods.

Athena's thoughts drifted to the other demigod, her previous priestesses, Stheno and Euryale, Medusa's sisters, who had embraced Poseidon's advances with open arms. Perhaps they had deserved the curse that had befallen them, their vanity and greed serving as a catalyst for their downfall. But Medusa had been different, a victim of circumstance and the jealousy of the divine.

The goddess took a deep, steady breath. "You make a fair point," Athena conceded, her voice low and contemplative. "Medusa has suffered enough at the hands of the gods."

The acolyte's expression softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes. "Then what do you propose, goddess?" She asked, her tone measured.

A flicker of possessiveness flashed across Athena's features as she considered the acolyte's words. "Still, I'm the only one who deserves her," the goddess declared, her voice laced with a hint of underlying tension. "Not the mortal."

The priestess regarded Athena with a measured gaze, her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile. She understood the deep-rooted emotions that were now stirring within the goddess—the lingering sense of ownership, the desire to reclaim what she had once deemed her own.

Medusa had, after all, been Athena's priestess in the past, her favourite, the most devoted, and a lover who had once basked in the goddess's favour and wisdom. It was understandable that the divine being would still harbour a sense of entitlement, a belief that Medusa was rightfully hers to claim and protect.

"Medusa has suffered enough at the hands of the divine," the priestess responded, her voice soft but unwavering. "Perhaps it is time for her to find her own path, free from the possessive grasp of the gods."

"I have wronged her," Athena acknowledged. "To take her from this newfound happiness would only compound that injustice."

The priestess nodded, her smile widening slightly. "Then perhaps, goddess, your role is not to possess but to protect," she suggested.

"No, she's mine. And she'll be mine once again." Athena declared.