ACT I, CHAPTER IV
The sky was overcast, enhancing the pearly grey colour of the sea that crashed mournfully against the shore. A man and woman stood at the edge of the surf. Drizzling rain masked the soft tears that emerged from her eyes.
"I pray this isn't the last time we meet, my love."
"And I too, Sally," The man sighed. "But Amphitrite is already beginning to wonder where I've been departing to for the last few months. And if Zeus finds out…" The implication went unsaid, but both the man and woman tensed as thunder rumbled.
A moment later, the woman gasped, her hand flew to her distended belly.
"He kicked…"
The man with wild black hair smiled softly, placing a hand on her stomach. "He's going to be a feisty one… What are you going to call him?"
"Perseus."
The man frowned faintly. "I hope you're not trying to appease my brother…" The man's sea green eyes were now laughing.
"No… He was the only hero with a happy ending."
The man's face grew serious again. "I see. Perseus. A strong name for a strong child."
Silence hung between them, as the waves roared louder.
"They will come for him," He started, noting her confusion. "Children of myself and my brother attract the attention of monsters and gods alike, without fail. When that day comes, have him trained. Embrace his heritage. Tell him I will always be protecting him."
Her hands tightened protectively around her middle. "No…"
"If you flee to the darkest corners of the earth, Hades will find you. If you journey under the sky, Zeus will find you. And if they find you… they will kill you, and Perseus."
At those words, a fury seemed to light up in the woman's eyes. "I don't care how many gods come after me. Perseus is going to live. I'll make sure he lives. Even if I have to fight every monster in Tartarus until he's powerful enough to stand on his own. Even if I have to go to extreme lengths. My son will live. I swear this on…"
The man lurched forward, alarmed. "Sally, wai - !"
"The River Styx!"
Thunder reverberated overhead, and a sense of heaviness made itself felt, as if the weight had been lowered from the sky onto both their shoulders. The man's face was stricken with grief. "Do you know what you've done?"
She was resolute, the same spark of determination from moments ago burning in her eyes.
'What is necessary to protect our son."
He sagged. "Very well. If that is what you wish. Sally… I'm…"
The woman cut off her companion with a finger to his lips. "I know what you're going to say. I made this choice myself. There is nothing you need to apologise for."
The two stared out into the vast ocean. The night was clear, constellations illuminating every inch of the aquamarine tide, reflecting the resonant sky.
"It seems like history always repeats itself," He sighed with finality. "Just like the first Perseus, his mother is forced to wed an atrocious king for the benefit of her son…."
"Yet he will be safe," She countered. "That is all that matters."
She embraced him for a long moment, then let go longingly.
"Go."
The man hesitated, taking a half-step towards the waters.
"I love you Sally."
She smiled dolefully. "Goodbye, Poseidon."
He smiled back, as a great surge of seawater rushed forward to engulf him. When it faded, the god in mortal form was gone, leaving behind a glinting bronze dagger. Engraved on the blade was a word, written in Greek.
"Elpízo," murmured the woman.
Hope.
Her hand clenched around the blade, and she gazed out into the sea, a single tear falling from her eye.
"Thank you."
Then she turned, and walked away.
――――――――――Ψ――――――――――
Perseus watches the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the first orange rays before nightfall beckons the sun to rise. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be.
Zoe moves closer so that he feels her presence, yet stays quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment for a little longer.
The sand was loamy and cool, the waves lazily embracing the shore. Apart from the sharp breeze, it was still… utterly still.
It was only in the stillness of the early morning that he could hear Zoe calling his name. He had gotten up and walked to the seafront to gaze out at the waves.
'His father's domain', he had realised, with no less surprise than when Galatea had told him.
The ocean moved and the wind blew, but to him everything had stopped.
He realises for the first time in a while, he was… content.
The sun rises lazily above the ocean's horizon, tinting the water deep orange. Wandering along the shores together — he feels like he can take her hand and tell her anything.
Charged with impulse, his fingers interlock with hers, and without a word he steps out atop the waves.
Zoe doesn't speak. Her fingers curl around his hand, almost amused.
Bravely, he begins taking more steps, willing the water beneath him to solidify. It seems to be working.
"Apart from the storms, your father's domain is truly a wonder to stare upon," Zoe grins.
He's taking more steps, but her growing reluctance is evident — her smile fading, a frown growing.
Perhaps it's her fear of the ocean, but Perseus doesn't dare to ask.
He nods, still not looking at her. "If I weren't a son of Poseidon I would be scared… mostly at the unpredictability of the ocean."
Without a word, he allows them to fall into the ocean — his last words to her are ironic, really.
Zoe's anger is lulled when she realises the fact that she is dry. Her glare falls short when she scans her surroundings.
Under the sea, the sun peeked over the lapping waves, casting both the ocean and Zoe in a warm blue pastel. For a moment, she reminded him of mermaids. Like Galatea, he thought amusedly.
Zoe laughed, raising an eyebrow in response. "How do you think I feel? My mother is the nymph Pleione, of the ocean. Yet I have lived my entire life atop a mountain, without ever touching a drop of the ocean."
Perseus glanced disinterestingly at the crowding fish as they moved into deeper confines of the sea.
"But she means nothing to me," she says, shaking her head. "By the time I serve Artemis, she will be all but forgotten."
A sense of uneasiness creeps through his spine as he stiffens, feeling her gaze on him. His heart skips a beat — no — he had wanted her to stay, he was happy, she was…
His thoughts drifted off as his consciousness responded. He couldn't finish the sentence. Because truly, she was not happy — not with him. Her heart and soul lay with Artemis and her values of maidenhood.
She meets his eyes. He looks like he wants to agree, but he nods jerkily as if her words had been a question. And then he shakes his head angrily and runs a hand through his hair.
But his face is shattered.
It's a reality he's desperately tried to bury away and forget about — yet it's inevitable. Here were two strangers who had met for the span of a few days — short-lived as it would be, her sudden departure would provide no real closure to his current predicament.
"Oh gods, Zoe!" he bursts out. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She shakes her head, momentarily stunned by his outburst. "Why does that matter?" she fires back, angry that he is angry with her, and feeling better for shouting at him.
"Of course it matters!"
"Why? Why the hell would it matter, Perseus? What difference can it possibly make?"
"Because…" he heaves out a breath and tugs his hair again, disheveling it further. He looks so much younger now. Vulnerable before her. "Because the gods are selfish," he spluttered, clenching his fists. He felt childish at the declaration. Yet they truly were. "Since when has their existence ever benefited us?"
Zoe's breath expels of its own accord.
The thought of Aphrodite's order after he had spoken a similar sentence to Helen quickly arose once more. His eyes hardened at the thought of the Love goddess.
Zoe's eyes softened — then hardened into one of pity? The darkening currents only further exacerbated her strained gaze on him.
She said, "Don't. Don't let me see you go down that path, Perseus. The gods have done — are yet to do so much for us. Please believe in the good of them for me."
With an afterthought, "Think of Galatea. The gods have always been here for divine guidance, and if not…" she points to his chest, "in here."
But Perseus sees through her crafted lies — she's been lied to by herself. Apart from Galatea, what have the gods done except take innocent lives away? Zeus and Aphrodite on his tail, and an all-powerful god for a father so unwilling to help he sends an assistant? He snorts at the thought.
"Remember that story I told you, Zoe?" Perseus turns away, staring into the bottomless depths. "That it was Aphrodite's anger that led to the death of my mother. My mother, an innocent mortal killed due to a few petty words."
For a moment, he realises the ocean is barren — only the two of them float within the cesspool of darkness.
He lets out a breath. "How endless are their transgressions, when I am just one of so many pawns? Can we afford to linger in their presence at all?"
Zoe's voice was muffled through the water, yet clear as ever. "There are many things you cannot control in life, Perseus! Accept that, for your life is mercurial… and fate has imposed itself upon you."
"Your own father protects you…" The former Hesperide sighs. "The very element we stand on now is what protects you, like it or not."
A rumble emanates from within the waves, as if the sea had awoken from its sedative slumber.
Perseus whips around, anger piercing her gaze within two glowing orbs. "I did not choose to be born a son of the sea," he snarls. "I did not choose to embark on the path of a demigod. Who can I blame, when the sole perpetrator of my grave existence is a god?"
"Mind your words, Perseus. Your father-" Zoe warns, but is cut off.
He rebuts, "If, for a moment you truly believe that the intentions of the gods are always truly for good… you are a fool."
A tangible pause.
"Your views are limited!" She finally snapped, looking up, eyes colder than the ocean. "Your traumatic experiences have subjected you to a collective path of hate for the gods. Lady Artemis stands as a symbolic figure of denial against your pessimistic claims."
His teeth ground together in annoyance, fists clenching until spots of pain clouded his vision. "Aphrodite is hunting me as we speak! And — and my father, an all-powerful god is powerless to stop her pursuit! How do you think I feel when you know you have one dignified goddess within an ocean of unjust immortals you can go to?"
The sound of waves roars in his ears.
He heaves in desperate breaths, trying to clear his cloudy vision. He didn't know where this had come from. But the prior days of despair and resentment had only built up his infuriation as the death of his former life finally set in.
The rippling anger softens, but the underlying grief continues to churn the currents.
Perseus' heartbeat slows, anger vanishing just as quickly as it had emerged. "Zoe! I didn't mean to -" he breaks off at the sight of her frantic clawing towards the surface.
Silence.
Then he hears the sound of drowning.
Frantic limbs, a column of air bubbles, and her agitated scream. His eyes widen in alarm.
She's trying to pull herself to the surface, but he knows she won't make it. They're too far underwater. What has he done?
In the heat of the moment, vision clouded with anger, he had lost concentration of her bubble of air. Her death would be a testament to his failure to keep his loved ones close, the fates would definitely be howling with laughter.
And even if he did save her, she'd never look at him the same again.
His element, his turf, would symbolise a field of eternal unease for the rest of her life.
No… he'd do something about this. He'd try and make this right.
The son of Poseidon willed a column of water to shoot him up towards Zoe. Clenching her body, he propelled them to the surface before solidifying the surrounding water.
Tentatively, he lay a hand on her chest. He felt the water clogging her airways, and with a flick of the hand, she was upright and wheezing — eyes looking at him in an expression he couldn't quite discern.
Only the sound of full, deep breaths filled the agonizing silence between the two.
Clearly, she wasn't alright. But she was alive.
"Oh gods, …" he whispers, looking horrified with himself.
Almost immediately, her fist engulfed the right side of his face, then a flash of pain.
She had punched him, hard. He knew he deserved it. Knowing that she was aware he was surrounded by his element, and yet still punched him was a small insight towards the seriousness of the situation.
"Zoe, please-"
Another, to his jaw. It went numb.
"Zoe, stop-"
He blocked the punch this time, one hand in the ocean as the water scaled upon his already healing bruise.
"Just let me explain-"
He could discern her expression now. A look of anger… then disappointment, sadness, then… fear?
She lets out a breath, her mouth pulled into a thin line. Her eyes drifted towards the depths of the ocean, then to his own.
Suddenly, the sea doesn't feel so welcoming. His own element has betrayed him, no — that thought was wrong. His own anger had betrayed, and ruined whatever friendship they shared.
His heart leaps. Her prior words had awoken something inside his chest, but he pushes it down, as she pushes his hands away and steps away from him.
He knows he's lost her.
"I…" for once, words don't come naturally to him.
Her hands were as steady as stone as she frowned.
Zoe sneers. "This has all been about you the whole time hasn't it? I am not some… animal for your amusement and companionship, Perseus. I am a human being with real aspirations!"
She sucked in a deep breath, softly shaking her head.
"Drowning me won't grant me any less freedom than I already have."
Her words are a blow to his pride. If it mattered to him the most, could he let go? He had nobody left from his life in Dardania — she represented his only tether to mortality. The thought of death had never felt so comforting.
With that tether cut, he wouldn't know if he'd want to keep going. To hear his mother's comforting, encouraging words was wishful thinking.
The son of Poseidon grimaces, refusing to meet her eyes. "Forgive my outburst, Zoe. I wasn't trying to drown you." Frankly, he wasn't sure what else could be said.
He takes a step forward and she flinches back. A deep part of him inside cracks. "Believe me, Zoe… I would never try and drown you," he says it like a question, like it is the most impossible possibility. Like she has cracked his world wide open.
But he remembers that day, next to the beach. They're fighting the Minotaur. The flash of bronze, the enraged roars from the beast. She had trusted him, with her life, because what other choice did she have?
And now… he was the Minotaur. Forcing her to fight, or to flee.
She nods, almost in acceptance. Her eyes scan his face, searching his eyes for answers.
"You're jealous," she finally decides. "You're jealous that even after abandonment, I'll have a family I can go to. And I'm sorry, Perseus, I truly am for your predicament."
He doesn't want her to feel sorry for him. But if he were any outsider, hell, he'd feel sorry for himself. Not because of what he'd experienced in such a short lapse of time, but because anger and vengeance had clouded his judgment in denying a mere stranger's freedom.
Apologies weren't enough. She had seen his inner convictions, and that was enough to push anyone away.
Her eyes darken, and she turns away, seemingly unable to face him. "I'm not even sure perfect reciprocity even exists. All you can do — all anyone can do — is figure out how much of an imbalance you can accept."
He doesn't reply to this — can't bring himself to.
But his silence is enough for her to continue.
"During my time with the hunters, I'll undoubtedly meet monsters familiar with my identity, restless titans sent by my father, eager to capture me. But the hate that I feel towards my father and the likes of him? I don't project that towards the titans not because I am merciful, but because it is merely reciprocated justice towards the actions they have committed, for good or for bad."
She looks at him in earnest, for once a look of genuine concern. "What say they won't target you, and your deteriorated mental fortitude?"
He doesn't have an answer to this.
Perseus is quiet for a moment, closing his eyes. He looks like he is in pain. "You're leaving."
Acceptance — yet betrayal, etched into her eyes. She sees them in his too, and nods.
He hates himself for parting with her on such terms. But his hesitation had depicted his answer.
Ever so softly, he feels her lean forward. Hesitate. The soft grazing of her lips on his cheek is gone before he can even register it.
There are no waves without wind. There is no going without leaving behind.
He watches her departing figure all the way into the forest edge as the first horns of war begin to resonate within the distance.
Almost subconsciously, Perseus grips Anaklusmos tightly within his palm.