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Living so much of her life at the temple, Medusa would know none of the virtuous daughters of Athens who would soon join her at the altar. But she knew Athena would choose well from amongst them. Two priestesses, four acolytes and two young arrephoroi would be selected.
Would she be one of them? She knew not.
Medusa heard Elpis readying the chamber for their visitors. Athena would soon be with her. Her fate was to be decided, her life’s course set. And still she thought of Ariston. His words filled her heart with strength and hope. He’d told her to be strong. She would be.
It was easy to lose herself to the ritual of preparation. Athena was precise in her ceremonies. Eight long candles were arranged, four on either side of the temple’s altar. Athena’s throne sat between them and before the dais. A meal was carried up by the Goddess’ servants and a long table was set under the olive tree for the great feast that would follow the Naming Ceremony.
Medusa set the table with care. Athena would sit in the middle, her priestesses and arrephoroi across from her, her acolytes on either side. She favored her acolytes, ever patient in their tutelage. When the time came, those who showed promise became her favored priestesses. After all, Athena loved and knew them already.
It was a trait Athena valued, loyalty. And loyalty was built over time.
The procession of candidates climbed the hill, illuminated by the slim torches they carried. They filed slowly into the temple to the sound of whispering linen, for twenty skirts, veils and robes stood awaiting the Goddess’ arrival.
The youngest, no more than seven years of age, peeked from her hood. Her huge brown eyes stared around the temple in wonder, making Medusa smile.
The atmosphere was that of excitement, of anticipation. They looked upon the Goddess with hope and longing, as was right. As she once had.
“My, what a crowd I’m given.” Athena’s voice was playful.
Athena presented a fine figure. With the moonlight at her back, the Goddess was illuminated by its white rays and framed between the ionic columns that held her temple straight and tall.
Thea arrived amidst a flurry of flapping wings and sing-song calls. She circled once before perching on Medusa’s shoulder. The bird called out to the Goddess with a loving coo. Athena’s gaze swept the room.
Medusa smiled as Athena’s eyes met hers, amused by Thea’s preening.
But then Athena did something she’d never done before. The Goddess walked, fluid grace, across the marble floor to stand before her. She touched Medusa’s cheek, sighing as her brown eyes examined her priestess with an unsettling intensity. Then her touch was gone and the Goddess moved back to inspect the rest of the maidens offered as her servants.
Medusa touched her cheek, the sense of foreboding returning to race up her spine and prick up the hair along her neck.
Thea cooed at Medusa, leaning into her mistress’s shoulder. Medusa stroked her repeatedly while waiting, hoping her unease was naught but nerves.
Athena addressed them, “I am pleased by such devotion from the families of Athens, even when the city itself faces siege. Rest easy, for you will be well protected if you’re selected. I am pleased to have Ektor, nephew of Nereus, as guardian to the priestess, and a full troop of hoplite guards to protect the temple from threat.” The ceremony was simple, witnessed only by Athena’s guards and Ektor. They would be responsible for the well-being of those Athena selected.
It took no time, for Athena knew who to choose. Eight names were called, each pronounced by their Goddess with a reverence they would cherish long into their memories – Medusa knew.
“Korinna, daughter of Theodoros…” Athena began, calling out name after name until only one remained.
“Elaini, daughter of Kallitratos,” the Goddess finished.
Medusa drew in a deep breath. Her name was not one of them.
“Little one,” did not ring out. Athena had not chosen her.
Had Poseidon prevailed? Did she belong to Poseidon now?
She felt dizzy. Her fate had been decided then…
She straightened. She would not falter, no matter what Athena told her.
As the new priestesses gathered – for Athena would instruct them of their duties – the Goddess called to her, moving away from the rest inside her temple. Athena smiled warmly at Medusa, watching her as she came closer.
The Goddess removed the veil from Medusa’s face, shaking her head as she did so. “So lovely, more so than when you came to me. Nine years is but a blink of an eye to me, but a lifetime for some mortals. You have pleased me greatly, little one. I set you free now. Spend two days hence with your loved ones, then return to the temple. I have one more gift for you, to honor your service to me.”
Medusa blinked. What was this? “I need no other gift from you, Goddess,” she whispered. Athena’s words spun about in her head, filling her with hope and longing. “I have sweet Thea.”
Thea seemed to know she was being praised, for she ruffled her neck feathers and regarded the two women with extreme satisfaction.
It was only when Medusa’s attention returned to Athena that she noticed something amiss. Athena’s face was pinched, her arched brows knitted. Her veil, clasped tightly in Athena’s hold, trembled ever so slightly.
