The Medusa Strain (WIP 2020)

Chapter 7

My mother—Artemis—looked at me with a wary eye; cast sideways—not sure what to say to me...long after Hera left.

But soon the words came out and with it—years of personal pain and regret.

"She is only doing this because you are nothing more than ample competition to her. Next to my cousin Aphrodite, you are second in line for eternal beauty and grace set forth by the gods." She said with a heartfelt sigh. "Even I could see that—watching you grow into your own—all this time. I knew you would be a problem. As well as a challenge, my child."

"I do not fear the gods, Mom. I only seek out their guidance and wisdom from time to time. That is all."

"But they have been silent in your stead, Jeri. You were never supposed to carry this burden alone. Not even when you had fully awakened. You were supposed to bring about many good things, but I fear you'll only sow the seeds of discord and chaos once again—forcing the Almighty Zeus to step in and take away the reigns of power from you."

"He cannot. He is forbidden from interfering in my tasks. Do not forget: I am much a prisoner of this life as he is with his. Only the Fates know how things will really end."

Artemis looked at me for a moment. "Do you seek glory, honey? Or redemption?"

"I seek the one thing that has eluded me all my life: What it is to love." I said in a strangely detached and sad tone of voice. "That is the most precious thing to me at this very moment."

"But you are so young. Just a girl! How could you possibly know about such a thing, honey? How?"

I glanced at my adopted mother with haunted eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes which bespoke so many things over the ages. Over so much time...

"I can...feel it...here." I murmured softly—touching my chest. "The solitude. The barren emptiness. The sense of something so profound, it still doesn't have a name yet."

"Oh, my precious, precious, baby..." Artemis crooned softly. "That is something you shouldn't experience ever in one given lifetime. Even if you are joined as one. The part of you that is Terra should know the joys of rebirth and a chance at a new life. Not an existence that is filled with endless sorrow and misery."

I sighed. "I know. But she feels lost somehow, mom. Incomplete. Even with me guiding her every step of the way. There is something missing from both our lives."

Artemis nodded in understanding. "The fault lies with not only me, not only your father, but also the gods themselves. For banishing you from a fulfilling life. No matter what Zeus thought of you in the early days...you deserved better."

"So what I am supposed to do now? What is my new purpose in life? To go on some quest for glory and honor, redemption, salvation...? Sounds like the old days all right. The trials. The challenges. Everything which made mankind mortal and so forgiving at the same time."

"Zeus never made things easy for anyone. To him, it was nothing but a canvas for worship and reverence in his name. He always felt that strength and courage where the two most redeeming qualities in anyone—man or god themselves. It was those things which made him the most content in those times."

"Now...?"

Artemis sighed. "Now?" She looked around the expansive living room. The two-tone colored couch on which they both sat and traded stories of yesterday—demigod to goddess.

"We've grown old and complacent in our ways, honey. More so since the post-war period—upon which we made our move. And our mark."

"I've...seen evidence of that myself."

Artemis nodded. "And that's why you kids are so important to the grand scheme of things."

"What grand scheme?"

"Why...to rule Mount Olympus of course. Your childhood friend, Blake is in line to take over Zeus's position as the Prime God. But he doesn't even know that—being the child of Apollo."

"Why him? Why not one of the others? Rem for example? The alleged daughter of Mars?"

My mother looked at me for a moment and then started laughing.

"Oh blessed are the heavens...no. Just...no. Rem is not suited for a place in Olympus. She and her father have always been at odds with Zeus. They made that perfectly clear from the onset. That's why the God of War has gone to ground somewhere in this city."

"As punishment?"

"No. Not technically. Punishment from Olympus meant eternal exile. Ares and Rem decided that their only place was among the mortals they swore to congregate and make their own."

"Worship?"

Artemis nodded again. "Every god and goddess deserves that much. It's what sustains us in the end. Humanity's quest for faith, redemption, and forgiveness."

"And me...?"

"Do you want to be worshiped and loved, honey?"

"Yes." I answered passionately. "Oh, yes..."

"Then take the rail car into the Central Hub. Then go to Block 21, Sector 9 tomorrow morning. Travel a half mile on foot. Then stop. On the door to one of the shops lining that side of the street, it will read Moonlight In Heaven. I'll give you the key for access. Both you and Blake will be allowed to enter."

I stared at my adopted mother for a second in strong disbelief.

"Block 21 is off limits—to humans. It's rumored to be the former residency of the gods themselves in the early days of the city's original development and construction." I said with dismay. "To enter it without permission...even for a little while—? Invites death."

Artemis grasped my hands. "You are a demigod now, sweetie. The rules no longer apply to you. You are now free to come and go as you please."

"Zeus would object. I'm sure he would."

"Zeus? You are not going to his former residence. But mine. My hallowed grounds of plenty. The halls of justice. A place where I spent many a days being worshiped and lauded over by mere men and women. For my wisdom, my beauty, and yes, even my strength of will. Believe it or not...? I was a very much sought after commodity back in those days."

"Is that how you met dad?" I pressed on without realizing it.

"The story behind your father and I will have to wait another time, Jeri. Right now, we need to focus on you and get you to where you are supposed to be."

"Because change waits for no one. Not even the gods themselves?"

"No. Change is both eternal and beneficial, honey. But we have been lax in that regard. That is why this city always has a habit of "sleeping" when you least expect it."

"Then I will leave it be." I promised—just as there were a few respectful knocks at the front door—interrupting our flow of conversation and everything else in between.