“I will never forgive myself for my past… And you shouldn’t either…”
Last night was difficult. While talking with Minotauros after teaching him a few moves with the Labrys’, I was reminded that I hadn’t purged yet. Part of my curse, every few hundred years, I was reminded that I had murdered my sons, the rest of Jason’s line did not matter to me, but one of that line told me that my beautiful boys, Mermerus and Pheres, did not leave with their father voluntarily. They were forced to leave, forced to show me that they did not love me. What forces were at play there I did not know, but I was under the false impression that they did not love me, and in my rage in my immediate vengeance against Jason, I took their lives. Granted, it was gently for them, slow-acting poison and they passed easily in the night. However, I have regretted it ever since.
As I said, while in conversation, I remembered that I hadn’t performed my purge rite in almost 500 years, and I made the mental note to do it that night, outside in the training grounds where I wasn’t going to damage anything. I got… volatile… while I was purging. I told Minotauros that if he was around, he could come be with me while I let it out, I had just helped him with his own story, a little. However, that was not going to happen. I just had to watch Merlin work. Even though I was older than he was, I had to admit, the things he could do with magic made me shiver with fear. And I didn’t say that often. I never back down from a fight, real or not, and when Merlin intimated rather strongly that I needed to practice my sparring, my anger roared forth. Both at him, at how weak that stupid, delicious, brew Lycaon had given me the night before had made me, at how skilled he was, and more than anything, how I hadn’t purged in half a millennia. I threw everything I had at him, which isn’t much compared to him.
I held my own, I thought, and then Lycaon appeared suddenly and threw me through a tree, and I think it was that departure from my concentration that broke through. When I fell to the ground I felt the power flow through me, the hellfire consuming me from toe to head. I knew Merlin was there, and out of everyone, he could have probably held back the worst of it, but I also knew innately, that he was going to be our strongest weapon against the upcoming threat, second to Lycaon. Everyone else that I had met, were strong in their own right and would be essential, but something told me that Merlin was the linchpin, I needed to protect him, I needed to protect them all. So I kept him back. I could feel him trying to constrain my power, but it wouldn’t work, I was already facing away from him anyway.
The faces of Mermerus and Pheres danced in front of my face and as I felt the hellfire, black like the soul of this murderess, reach its tipping point I shouted, howled into the clear night sky and threw everything into directing that energy up and away from Merlin, the cabin, and any other living being. I was done with murder. This was also my first purge since my vengeance was finished, and maybe that was part of why it felt so different.
When it was finished, and I’d fallen back to the ground, my spirit far weaker than my body, Merlin helped me stand, and then teleported us back to the cabin. We drank a little, my spirit recuperating slowly. Merlin left and I slid up to my room and passed out quickly. This was by no means the end of my night. Like every other night, since I arrived at the cabin, and began getting reacquainted with Lycaon, I had the same dream. The memory of the only time I’ve come close to dying. I was sure this had a meaning, but what it was currently escaped me.
It was the early 1600s and I was travelling around England, working odd jobs as the children grew up. I never took out Jason’s descendants when they were kids, I’d had my fill of infanticide and I didn’t want that guilt on my conscience. Adults were no problem, but I always tried to get them before they reproduced. As soon as the woman got pregnant she was off-limits. Call me a monster, but I grew standards over the intervening 2,000 years. Anyways, I ran into a gentleman, fair-haired and pale, but his aura was hidden from me and well, that intrigued me. We hit it off, and for a while, life was good, even if he was working for John Dee. His name was Edward Kelly, and for about 3 years we lived together, I taught him magic, and he kept me off his boss’ scope. He was a very passionate lover, I hadn’t had his like since Caesar, and I haven’t met his equal since then.
But as with everything, relationships changed, and when he began asking me to do tasks for him that involved assassination and murder of children, I stepped back and saw him for who he really was. As I said, I have owned my monstrous reputation for 3,000 years, but Edward, he put me to shame. I at least treated the line of Jason with dignity and respect after I offed them. Just because I couldn’t bear Jason’s descendants in the same world as me, didn’t mean I had to mistreat their bodies. I would bury or burn the bodies as per the customs of the time. But, Edward… I can’t put into words what he was doing, or what he wanted me to do. I have never bowed to anyone, I have never backed down from a fight, and this… was turning out to be the next true challenge of my will. Would I let him use me, or would I rise against him? Well, let’s just say that when a dragon, more accurately a drakon, appeared in the night sky and torched our house, I wasn’t surprised. My friend the Colchian Drakon had long ago taught me to assume his form, and I knew that it inspired many tales of knights and heroism, although they pushed that myth back into the dark ages.
However, when I found Edward the next day, not a scratch or burn on him, that was when I knew something was wrong. He was the only person to catch me by surprise, and until Lycaon threw me through the tree, it hadn’t happened since. Needless to say, when he looked at me and snapped his fingers and I could feel my life-thread about to break, I looked down at him as my spirit began floating away, getting ready for its trip to Tartarus, I saw him for the ageless, immortal monster than he was. Beautiful and dangerous, I had never met anyone like him. Edward walked forward and grabbed the throat of my spirit and looked at me, not my body. “You and I will meet again my dear Medea,” I couldn’t breathe, I was dead or nearly there, and I couldn’t move out of his grasp. “And when you do, you will be faced with a choice. Join me, and rule by my side, you’re going to meet some very powerful people, it would be nothing for you to steal their power and become my equal,” somehow I managed to shudder and Edward smiled cruelly, “or you can fight me, stand by the beasts you will come to love and watch every single one of them perish by my hand… and yours.”
And with that, he pushed my soul back into my body and disappeared. I lay gasping, unable to do anything until some priests found me and nursed me back to health. If only they knew who they housed. I left England the following week burning everything down in my wake.
I woke up this morning, tired and sore, but clear. My near-death had never been so clear, and Edwards’ words that I’d forgotten about had come back crystalline. I knew I needed to tell Lycaon, but he’d spent so little time at the cabin. Edward was more than he seemed, could he still be alive, now in 2020? The thought shook me, but it wouldn’t surprise me. As I rolled out of bed, my clothing formed on me and a piping hot mug of tea appeared in my hand. I made my way downstairs, the cabin quiet and found a seat near the fireplace to contemplate next moves. I needed more training, that much was clear, but was I truly ready to throw everything in with Lycaon and the supes? Or would I be bound to Edward for the rest of eternity?