Welcome to Inkbunny...
Allowed ratings
To view member-only content, create an account. ( Hide )
Life Can Succubus Page 14
« older newer »
callmedoc's Gallery (2245)

The Story Teller: Perseus & The Gorgon

A Bat Followed Me Home Page 253

Medium (920px wide max)
Wide - use max window width - scroll to see page ⇅
Fit all of image in window
set default image size: small | medium | wide
Download (new tab)
For those of you unfamiliar with the stories, there is a man and his dog who wander as lost souls do. Who scavenge and hide amongst ruins in lands only darkness would covet and time itself became lost in. Where stories would leap from the walls and legends would grow in the mind. This is such a tale of a tale. A writing carried on the wings of chance and the thread of fate. Sit yourself to the ground of the earth and listen if only for a little...

In the darkened labyrinth of a place unknown yet so very familiar, a man whose hair was grey as Silver but much thinner, and his companion whose four paws strode in the sand, wandered great silent halls. A torch in one hand, wit in the other as it traced among the old passages; the two wandered in silence until in passing, a great hole gave in the cast light. As they peered through and shown the treasures of it within, they were met with a silent stand of arms. Soldiers who served no master and eyes saw no light, for they were cast in stone.They remained in rows of two in silence. The mongrel had taken to look
as well and in their weight the wall could not bare. It gave way to the paws and fell to the sands below " Oops. "It's maw parted but there are no other companions to witnesses in this place.
Only sand, stone, and the shadows of stories perhaps forgotten to some but not all. They'd slipped into the opening, drawn past the silent sentries and found another way, to where, they did not know and perhaps not care. Not far from the passages did the intrusion of a noise fill the walls and cut through the air. It were like...like...like the hissing of snakes. Near their feet and nearly buried, struck from the grain cast a nose.
A sad buried face whose Blank, grey eyes stare  into darkness. From them arose marbled snakes, never to move and forever ready to strike. ' What is that? ' The dog spoke as it drew nearer with caution. The man had set his torch aside, kept it near as he took of his garb and came with curious sight.
 When he'd seen of the snakes, seen where they sat, he knew all too well and in a whisper, spoke. ' A thing of darkness. A night fear. Don't even look at it.' but both did not advert their gaze.
It had been the head of a woman and the hair that belonged to hers but also the snakes. ' That face, it's horrible! Where does it come from?' The dog spoke quickly as it turned it's eyes to the man. He returned the same and paused if only for a moment to recollect.

" A long way away on a rock at the edge of the world...lived a woman...

With terrible claws, wings of bronze and breath fowl as corpses. Her hair was a nest of poisonous snakes; hissing, alive. Catch her stare and she would turn you to stone. Her name was Medusa, the Gorgon. Imagine her looking away and then starting to turn toward you...slowly...slowly...' Shall we turn and look at them, sisters?' her cold lips would whisper to the things that bared her suffering, the snakes which hissed and swayed in the dark winds of the world's edge. If you would see her eyes, you would see a sadness, a great despair, a pained smile and then...no more.
And the boy sent to kill her came out of the same shadows that spawned her, and his birth were first foretold in a cave as dark as this place. His name was Perseus. Acrisius, King of Argos, had a daughter, Danaë. Now he longed for a son. What if his wife should give him another daughter. What if he gave rise to a line of daughters stretching out forever? Women who would carry off his name and lineage to strangers. This ache for a boy child and heir gripped his heart and he made sacrifice after sacrifice to the gods, creators of Earth and sky and moon until finally, desperate, he sought out the oracle.
In the shades among shades did Acrisius come to her one night. ' Whose there?' her voice was tempered by the mythic and inhuman. 'Acrisius, king of Argos.' he was nearly hesitant to say. ' What does the king wish to know?' Her face hidden behind darkness, her cloak drew out a bowl of wood, filled with gold.
She rang it, drew it up and down to remind it's contents and what was owed. There's a shame in asking what's to come. He had brought gold, yes; laid it with the others in the wood. When the king of Argos knelt in the darkness with a dry mouth. his heart tapping like a wind at the temple door, he began.

' I want a son' and the Oracle was more quick to answer ' A son...? You will have a boy.' The king's heart lurched in the darkness, a son! ' But not your son, Acrisius, king of Argos. Your daughter's son. Danaë shall have a boy and you shall hear his laughter...and this boy, one day he'll kill you. He'll kill you.' With those words she had vanished once more into the darkness, her voice trailing along the cave's walls, echoing from the depths of the unknown ' Lights! ' the king called for guards ' Lights! do you hear me?! Lights! ' and their flames came to find emptiness for the Oracle was nowhere to be found.

When the king had returned to his daughter whom smiled at him, he felt a pain and guilt, swallowed by his fears of a prophecy. He took his daughter, took his daughter by the hand and dragged her away from the lit hallways and into the silent, dark places of his palace where no foots would tread. All the way she called to him but he did not hear her.

Finally as he drew open a door fashioned by metal to hold a room that was more a cell, he threw her in. As she looked to him with a fear of her own and sadness, he stared into her eyes and spoke 'Nothing now for both of us. No sons, no laughter, no joy, nothing but silences and funerals and things that might have been.'
As he drew away from her, left his daughter in the darkness of her new home, he looked upon her with a regret he could not bare but could not listen to either. The door came shut with his hand and Danaë was left in the shadows. Oh yes, terrible. Shut forever in a chamber of solid bronze which there could be no escape.
Nothing, nothing now but the dark and silence and a trickle of sunlight in the corner of the cell. Danaë found all her hope in that finger of light. Looked at it week after week, month after month, year after year until one day as she gave herself up to the light, it turned to gold.

Real gold, streaming into her lap as she lay there. She was mesmerized by it's beauty and continued to stare onward in silence into the light of the sun. What had it been? It was Zeus, lord of all gods. What was he doing? Fulfilling the oracle. A baby, was it a boy, had it killed it's grandfather? Had it a poison rattle or some other thing? It was a boy, Perseus, born in darkness and secret. A boy whose fate awaited him at the end of the world on a sea lashed rock. A rock whose three lone inhabitants stirred in the wake of the grey lights and overhead clouds. Medusa stared into the blackened sea and thought a horrible thought.

' I smell a man born of a god. Sisters, smell the air.' and the two other Gorgons beside her did take in the fowl mists of their lair ' Stare him out, sisters. Give him the sad eye.' Her cruel words echoed across the waves but they would not reach the boy whose name was lost to the Gorgons. Years passed and all Perseus knew was the room, the sweet touch of his mother and her stories. And the quiet unraveling of the day after day ' What's the world like?' Perseus asked his mother one day as they sat beneath the sliver of daylight. ' Not like this.' his mother answered in solemn ' What's this then?' he continued and Danaë only had truth. ' A prison.' Perseus looked around the cell, stared upon the bronze and stared to the light ' I thought it was the world.'

When Perseus was six years old, Danaë made for him a sword from wood pulled from her bed and smoothed on the stone floor. When she placed it in his hands, the little boy just stood there, his pale eyes troubled. ' You fight with it' Danaë taught her son ' You fight monsters with it. A long way away at the edge of the world lives a woman with terrible claws, wings of bronze and breath as fowl as corpses.' Perseus listened intently to his mother with a silent amusement and worry ' Whose hair is a nest of poisonous snakes...alive and hissing. Catch her eyes and she'll turn you to stone.' Danaë had of course been playing with her son and began to hiss at him. He wandered the room, oak sword in hand, passing his mother as if a hero as he brought the sword up and down in his grasp.

The king had been sitting in silence as he had for many years; sitting in a throne of fear that ruled a man who thought he the ruler. Then a noise drifted on his ears. Roused his attentions from his troubles; and this pale, bloodless noise caught in the still passages, echoed, crept into the ear further of the sad king; chilled him, pulled him from his chamber. Pulled him down corridors where laughter had long died, where joy had perished. Pulled him down and down and down into the bowls of his palace. When he swung open the doors to the bronze room, stared upon his daughter and then slowly onto a young boy, his eyes widened with the greatest fears realized. Danaë came to her son and held him to her, held him tight as the fear in her own eyes reflected from the king's. ' Don't kill him! Please, please don't kill my boy! ' Acrisius could only stare for there were no words in his mouth for his daughter or grandson.
 This was not the end of it however and guards soon came back for the both of them. A great wooden chest of metals and gold whose purpose was to hold treasures, was emptied across the floor of the palace in a haste. Acrisius rested upon it with a passion that left him breathless to his guards.
' Take this chest and shut in it my daughter and her son.' and so they did as they threw her into the dyed linens of it's hold ' Cast it from the highest cliffs into the ocean!' Perseus struggled from the hold of those that took him to be with his mother and forced him into her arms within the chest. ' And let the seas mash them and the rocks grind them!' Darkness once more as the lid came down. Perseus could feel the chest lifted, hear the clash of heel on stone and then the drag, the lurch as the chest was carried off. Where, they knew not and then cold, sharp salt air seeping into the wood.

 He clung, clung in silence to his silent mother. Imagine, imagine suddenly a heave and then the world dropping from the pit of your stomach. The fall, the forever fall and plunge turning over and over, clinging together! And then the smash of wood on water and the wetness forcing in. So terrible, had they drowned? They should have drowned, they dreamed they drowned but then they woke and they were still there. Still locked in the dark but now the dark moved them from side to side, rocked them;They floated! Pulled by currents, tugged by tides, how long this lasted, who knows. There were no days or nights, only drifting, drifting in and out of sleep.

On and on, trapped with the chest until out of nowhere, out of nothing, suddenly there was light! Light! More light than Perseus had ever known and into the light a face, and it was smiling ' Look what the sea brought us...look!' a man stared into the open chest in wonder. His name was Dictys, A fisherman by name and brother to Polydectes, Ruler of Seriphos which is where they were and would be longer. It was many years that Perseus and his mother remained with the fisherman by the shores and sand. Learned of a life new to his mother and him both.

One day as he sat and watched the ropes be knotted, his mind had drawn on a time long passed now. ' What are you thinking, son? ' Dictys, a kind man who took to the boy as his father, came to set the rope down and be aside him. ' When I was small we lived in a prison. I remember the prison. There was a narrow window and it was always quiet. Sometimes I miss the darkness. I miss the shadows and the silence.'
And a stranger soon came from the sands, wandered in from the ways they had not seen, with eyes soft and treacherous ' My house is full of shadows.' He'd spoken for he had heard all that Perseus had said. ' Come and live with me.' He stood proudly to the boy with a crossing of arms, and his eyes wandered to Perseus's mother who looked back to the stranger.
' Is this your son?' He'd asked her ' He is my son. His name is Perseus.' And the stranger continued closer to her with a curiosity ' And where is his father?' but only silence returned for him. ' Dictys, is this your son? ' and a scowl grew on the fisherman's face as he called back ' He has no father. ' ' Oh... a boy needs a father. How would you like me to be your father? How would you like to live in a palace full of shadows?' the man had drawn to Danaë's side, strode behind her. ' It could be easily done. All I would have to do is take your mother for my wife.'

As his hands rested on her shoulders as if in possession, Perseus rose from his sitting with a sudden anger ' Leave my mother alone! ' he cried out to him. His mother had repulsed in his touch. ' Who are you?' She had asked but before his lips would part an answer, Dictys spoke the truth ' His name is Polydectes, king of all this island. Stealer of farms, Liar!' his brother knew too well. ' Gatherer of beautiful things...' The cruel king had finished. ' And if I choose, I will take your mother for my wife.' His dirtied hands so carefully combed upon Danaë's golden hair, felt the strands as his prize.

' I will marry her in six days. Come to the wedding!' he let out a shout of jovial smugness. ' ...If you can afford a bride gift.' He drew from her now and toward Perseus, his finger erected to him. The king's eyes had lain across a wooden chest in the sand, an empty home once but not for long to Perseus. A tomb and freedom only set a reminder. ' Is that a treasure chest, Perseus? Bring your weight in gold coins, Perseus! Bring your oak chest full of gold pieces!' and a weight of fear filled the boy ' I have no gold! The chest is empty!' and the king's smile only grew wider to bare his teeth.

' Oh dear... what is to be done?' Polydectes stepped close once more to Danaë's sitting, onlooking and unaware that Perseus had gone to this chest which had not been only empty; at the bottom of the faded Dyed cloths lay a sword made of wood, given to him by his mother long ago. ' A long way away on a rock at the edge of the world is a woman.' His mother's voice whispered in the stirrings of his thoughts ' Whose hair is a nest of poisonous snakes.' He reached of this sword, took it so fiercely in both his hands and steadied it in his temper as he faced the king and his mother. ' Catch her eye and she'll turn you to stone. ' ' I'll bring you something better than gold.' Perseus held the sword whose edge aimed for the king. ' I'll bring you the head of the Gorgon. '
And Polydectes was thoroughly amused ' Really, the head of the Gorgon? ' His dried laughter ran on the sea's winds. ' Marvelous, what a marvelous wedding gift!' and as if to spite the words, he drew down to Danaë and kissed her cheek. ' I shall! I shall bring you Medusa and there will be no wedding!' the sword shook in his hands but it was not for Polydectes, no. Another fate awaited the cruel liar of a man. Across the world where the waters are darkest and cruel, whose winds sombre and forgotten, Medusa did again stir with a deep fear.

' Somebody called my name. Sisters, we must keep watch. Look to the Easssst.' her deadened lips cracked and it seemed as if Medusa herself were hissing just as violently the snakes on her head. And so it was that Perseus, half child, half god, found himself with five days and five nights to bring back the severed head of the Gorgon, Fringed with snakes, the gaze that froze to prevent the marriage of his mother to the tyrant, Polydectes, lord of Seriphos. Who had been far worse a creature? The gorgon, Medusa or Polydectes? Would Danaë be forced to marry him? Poor Perseus, how could he bring the head of the Gorgon to Polydectes's table? Did such a monster really exist? Where was this island at the edge of the world, beyond ocean, beyond night, beyond the north wind?

He wasted one whole day by the sea shore, stared into the red night and who would help him but the gods? The gods did, the gods had helped him. Remember that he was Zeus's son. Athene, the daughter of Zeus,  and Hermes the messenger, they found him. They gave him a sword, a real sword from Zeus and a bright bronze shield, and Athene, his half sister, warned him never to look directly at the gorgon. That to catch the stare in the reflection of the shield. 'Go to the Graeae ' she told him ' Sisters of the Gorgon. They will know where to find her. and at length, Perseus found the Graeae; three hags who had one tooth and one eye between them.

The Gorgon's sisters. They knelt to the ground in their despairs, shook their grey hands of morbid fortunes and beckoned to the sky ' Zeus, Father of the gods, lord of the storm, cloud gatherer, give me a six!' They played games among themselves with the stone die of numbers scribbled, as children, yet they were so old, the thought of themselves as once children seemed hardly conceivable. ' Give her a two, give her a two, Zeus!' another of the sisters cried, and then another ' Give her nothing Zeus, give her nothing!' they seemed to cry and squabble amongst themselves, unaware as Perseus drew ever nearer.

The single reddened eye of the Graneae did not stray far from women, just far enough away from their hands to be taken which is what Perseus did. He snatched the eye in hand and held it to their great fear and hate. ' Whose there?! ' One cried to him as they searched the ground, only seeing darkness. ' A traveler. Perseus stood ready to strike any that would come near. ' And I hold the eye! ' They cursed toward him ' Give it to me! ' their blackened mouths hung agape, the holes in their heads where eyes once had been, widened. ' Not until you tell me where I may find the Gorgon!' He shouted back with a deathly rage. ' Give me the eye and I will tell you! ' Their hands reaching with a treachery

' Me! ' Another shouted just as venomously. The Graneae screeched and spat and clawed to betray their sister but Perseus would not give up the eye until he knew everything. ' Go to the nymphs of the styx! They have the cap of invisibility! The helm of darkness! The winged sandals to carry you!' ' Here is your eye, betrayers! ' Perseus through the wicked red eye to the three sisters and they clawed for it until it found it's home once again. ' Go stranger! Go to the nymphs, take every weapon, make yourself invisible! It will not help you! My sister will freeze the breath in your throat!' the eye stared upon him with such hate, the same hate that came in the words cried by the old grey woman. Her mouth twisted as if in a shadowed smile as she shouted to the skies ' He's coming, Sister! He's coming!'

' He is coming, My sisters. I smell him on the breeze. He is coming to me.' Medusa's saddened eyes stared once more across the horizons. and her lips drew to a smile that betrayed her fear.

  The cap of Invisibility, crafted from Dog skin, was a glorious treasure among three. Three things Perseus had from the Hesperides nymphs, as beautiful as they were in their black lake as the Graneae were fowl. Acune, Cap of invisibility, the Cabisis, a leather pouch in which to carry the gorgon's head, and winged sandals so that he might fly. They say he flew out so far, he came to the place the great titan Atlus stood, whose punishment was to hold up the heavens. And he called out to the sad giant but his voice was tiny ' Medusa! Medusa the Gorgon, how can I find her?'

He called beneath and above the skies and it's clouds to him. Atlus struggled for his breath in his torments and relented ' Is it a man...? All sounds are small.' His voice had given ways across the darkened skies of dusk ' You make such a noise about your destiny...I am tired of baring the weight of heavens, only If I let go, the sky will fall on your heads.' and Perseus called to him again ' I seek Medusa the Gorgon whose look turns to stone!' and the titans voice breathed in a groan ' The Gorgon? The gorgon is on a rock at the edge of the world. I dream she passes and her stare turns me to stone. No more weight.'

and Medusa called across the air for Perseus. Beckoned the boy with his sword and his shield, his pouch and his cap to her. He was so near she could smell him so kept on the winds. Oh yes, she was waiting and he eventually did come. Lands on the island, imagine, moving through statues, through people the gorgon has frozen to stone and he's wearing his cap and clutching his sword but none of those things seem to help him. He's invisible but he's sure she can see him. She can smell him. His eyes are everywhere but they are nowhere in the midst of the silent land where the mists and cold airs beckon for a new soul to remain, steps stopped and last breaths taken to rock. There is no sun, never a sun in this place that was like a cave and yet not. Perseus looked to the bronze shield, to see in it's reflections but it was so hard without the warmth and way of the sunlight.

He's frightened, so frightened and then he is falling, losing his steps as he topples into the mists and ground with the alarming of metal and earth. Medusa who had been resting, rests no more and comes to peer at nothing ' He's here, sisters, he's come! The man who seeks me! Wake, sisters, wake!'
 And the Gorgon's sisters did wake and began to look for the intruder, for Perseus who had still remained invisible, for the cap remained on his head. He crouched, keeping his eyes to the ground below him, looking to his Shield for any guidance in the storm that was beginning to wake. Lightning filled the air and then thunder; bright lights ran across the sky into the sea, illuminating all to Perseus through the bronze as if it knew his silent pleas. Medusa's sisters continued to scavenge for him, to find him with their cold stares and sad eyes. Stheno and Euryale were in no danger, had not been for they could not be killed by man. Medusa however had been mortal, had a weakness to a sword.

A sword as sharp as Adamantine which had been given to Perseus by Zeus himself. Medusa's sisters reached in the wake of a shade they could not see and beckoned for him with their dark tongue. ' Why do you hide from me, stranger? ' Medusa called out in a softness with a voice that could lure men to lure, to turn their eyes to meet her stare. ' Are you frightened?  Where are you, I can't see you! ' He want to look at her, wants to turn, the voice tempting him to turn. She can't see him but her voice can charm him. He's invisible but if he looks at her, he's finished! ' I liked to be looked at!' Medusa continued to call for him and Perseus only came closer with soft steps, following her voice as he crept among the shadows and mists, sword ready in hand.' And I like to look too! Where are you?!'

 The snakes hissed and writhed on her head in all directions, hissed and squirmed with reddened eyes and sharp fangs. ' Look in my eyes, there is a world in my eyes! Where are you stranger?' her words were so soothing, so comforting but Perseus dare not look still no matter how much they wanted him to.
He'd moved past the Gorgon's sisters, crouched and remained hidden as he was so close to her now, how far, he could not see so clearly off the shield's metal! He could almost see her in it, could see her form standing in it and could smell her dead breath. ' Why don't you look at me?!' another flash of lightning, the thunder shaking the ground ' I like to be looked at!' He began to swing, trail his sword through the air to come upon nothing yet Medusa could not hear it. ' Can you see me?' she called finally and if Perseus didn't, she had.

She lunged for him, screeching and reaching out, the snakes lunging too to bite at him, thrashing toward the reflection, so close she may have had Perseus. She didn't though. Perseus with the reflexes and strength half belonging to gods and the other a man, brought the sword across her neck, cleaved the flesh from her shoulders as it met the bone and forever gave darkness to her world. As her body came to fall away and her head roll not far, her Sisters called out to her in a great anguish. ' Medusa! Oh sister! ' And Perseus came to the head, dare not look at it as his hand reached out to grab at it, and stow it away into the pouch, away from his eyes and death.

' Where is he?! Kill him! ' they wailed for him but Perseus was running now, running from the fear and sadness as the sandals carried him off the ground and into the storms of the sky. Now who had these other gorgons been? What had become of them and so many others Perseus had come upon? If I told the whole story, your head would burst! There is no one story, there are branches, rooms like this place. Rooms, corridors, dead ends. What about the minutes Perseus's mother spent waiting, the minutes running away. What happened to them or Dictys, his family broken on a whim. Or Acrisius the king, haunted, whose sleep is always fitful, who cannot forget the oracle?

Yes, the Gorgan had sisters, yes, Perseus turned the sad giant, Atlus, to stone. He flew passed Atlus, took pity on the poor giant, showed him the sad eye and let him sleep the long sleep of a mountain. ' Atlus! Atlus, I did not forget! ' Perseus cried to him as his body greyed, as his eyes gave in to a final rest. It is said it still remains as the great mountains over all ways. And then home, home with the Gorgon's head in his hands, his sword pointing the way in front of him. Perhaps he's too late, perhaps his mother has been taken to the palace! Perhaps Polydectes has already married her!

In the lit court of Polydectes sat laughter and talking. Foods and wines, so many of both were given and taken by the hands of an audience. On the throne sat the smug king and his new wife that sat beside him in an eternal dismay, Danaë who believed her son dead. The great doors of this court had been thrown open by a single man, a shadow in the lights that came forth in loud steps. He drew into the room and cut through the laughter and talk and food; he carried with him a sack whose pouch was tightly closed. ' Whose this? ' Polydectes called out to him and as he was fully revealed in the flame, Perseus stood to the king and his guards ' Don't you know me, Polydectes?'

 Danaë had stood away from the king, called to her son and would have ran to him were it not the guards who kept her away from doing so. ' Let her go!' the king shouted and they did for Perseus had come to her and taken her hand for a moment. He looked to the Tyrant and came closer, leaving his mother. ' I have brought you a gift for your wedding.' He held the sack up to his shoulders, let it be known to all eyes in the room. ' Would you look on it?' ' You've brought me the Gorgon's head have you?' Polydectes could not help but smile but Perseus continued to stare so intensely on him. ' I have.' Still he laughed and brought himself from his throne to come closer.

' My friends, the boy has been to the end of the world and come back with the Medusa's head. I advise you to remove yourselves!' His voice was only a mockery and teasing ' One look is this right, boy? One look and we shall all be petrified!' and his laughter was cut by Perseus ' That's right!' but there were no others among the tables and steps who laughed, no others that even smiled. Some had slipped away from the pillars and from the halls, away from such a horror. ' Oh dear, I think we'll show our true colors. Is anyone else frightened of a story?' Polydectes asked his audience ' Of a child's nightmare,The Gorgon?'
And it was too much for they all stood one after the other and left of the chambers. They shuffled with a silent terror and dismissed into a place far from what were coming. ' So weak! Will no one stay with me?!' but they did not answer, only left the king to stand alone. ' He's lieing! It's a dream! ' he called to them but they would not return. He stared upon Perseus with a dry throat, could feel the fear in his own heart that he could not show. He raised his hand and ushered for him ' Come boy. Sit, eat with me.' But Perseus had no plans for sitting or for eating. He came closer but not for the King, for himself.

' I dreamed of dark. I dreamed of light.' with each step, Perseus drew a most hateful word from his lips, words that could kill the man but did not for there was a dark promise already in the one king's fate. Polydectes wavered in his knee's, could feel them begin to buckle with a great fear worse than death as he tread back from the boy. ' I dreamed I was a king. I dreamed I was a god's son. ' and the king fell, caught upon his chair as he met the store floor, his eyes on Perseus who reached into the sack, relieved the pouch of it's contents. He tried to hide his eyes but could not look away, could not keep them closed

' I dreamed your limbs grew heavy and your blood turned to sand!' and as the king looked upon Medusa's cut head in hand, stared upon the closed eyes, Perseus held it ever more closer ' And I dreamed you cried out!' and her eyes opened, her sad dead eyes to stare into his and with a silent cry the king turned to stone, mouth agape to never speak again. There was still one more part in this story however we must not forget. The starter of many stories whether known or not. An Oracle. Had she been wrong? Acrisius had been told Perseus would kill his grandfather and yet it seems he didn't.

I went to the Oracle once. Never ask. You never hear what you hope for. When Danaë told Perseus about his birth, about the Oracle, Perseus felt compassion for Acrisius. He decided to return to Argos and promise his grandfather he would do him no harm. Good...but what does it take for an accident to happen...? Imagine after standing for a thousand winters, this roof should suddenly give up it's spirit, fall on our head. What is that, chance, fate, the god's sport? So it was with Perseus and Acrisius. The old king heard of Perseus's deeds. He fled from Argos, hid from him in the narrow lanes of Larissa. Perseus travelled slowly to Argos, stopping along the way.

There was a contest at Larissa and he stopped for it. He hurled the disk so wild, hurled it into the sky. Watch out! Acrisius, haunted, stood in the crowd. The disk sought him out with the strength of an oracle; found him and killed him. So the Oracle was true, oh yes. Oracles are true...stories are true. There are monsters at the end of the world. There are looks that can kill, and who has not been petrified by fear? Ask Athene, warrior daughter of Zeus, weaver, maker of spiders. She will tell you the things I cannot. She will sing the praises of Perseus the hero, father of the Argi...the gorgon slayer."

And with that, the man left the Sad woman's face in the sands for that is the fate of all men and women through time. Yet it is the stories and deeds that follow after them, the acts that define our worlds, strike our minds and create the sparks of things anew in their wake. Medusa, the unsung whose fate may have been worse than death before death itself. Cursed and betrayed by her Goddess, cursed to the sad islands of darkness at the edge of the world. Yet without her, there may not be mountains now or the end of a cruel king's reign. Let us never forget that in our times we think worst and see worst, there is always a purpose, always a plan...always a faith that things will come right for they do still.


This was a written adaptation which used greatly of the spoken dialogue featured in Jim Henson's The Story Teller: Greek Myths; While also attributing the origins of the dialogue to the late Anthony Minghella. This was a written love letter of sorts to their lost genius that has been highly inspiring and passionate for myself. Curious of the Story Teller? Please be sure to follow the provided link below to the featured episode this writing adaptation was based on!


Did you enjoy this adaptation? Please leave a comment below! Want another tale? What if I told you about a man, the most clever in all of Greece, whose life ended with him making statues only of a boy with wings? Follow the link below for another tale!


dog 91,845, human 52,910, god 1,999, tales 302, gorgon 164, greece 34, fables 6, story-teller 3
Type: Portfolio
Published: 4 years, 5 months ago
Rating: General

MD5 Hash for Page 1... Show Find Identical Posts [?]
1 favorite

BBCode Tags Show [?]
4 years, 5 months ago
This is a treat!
Are we going to be gifted with a telling of each of the Storyteller's tales?
Or are these your personal favorites?
4 years, 5 months ago
My intentions were to go over the Greek stories, as the original tales of the first season were in fact novelized by the same  writer for the series. I cannot recommend enough of it if you enjoy sharing with others a verbal portrayal of the showing. There had been no writing for the Greek stories ( only consisting of four episodes in it's short run. ) and felt it a great shame to which I have undertaken the adaptation as a homage to memories,inspiring tales, and those that made them relevant.  
New Comment:
Move reply box to top
Log in or create an account to comment.