“Medusa? Medusa?”

The soft, high-pitched voice startled me out of my grief. Someone was coming. I had to warn them away. “Stay away! Please, stay away! I do not want to kill you!”

“Medusa, it is me, Agatha!”

“Agatha! Please, stay away!”

“It does not matter! I am blind!”

That stunned me long enough for her to come into my cave. She was only seven, eight years old. How could she be blind?

The child walked slowly into my cave, blindfolded, one hand holding a cane and the other outstretched to feel for obstacles. On her back was a rough canvas bag almost as big as she was.

I instinctively rushed forward to help her. She was so small for her age, but was bright and daring. She had been left with us at the Temple of Athena as a toddler, and raised by us to be a future priestess, never knowing of vice or the outside world.

I used my tail – I hated it, but it was useful at times – to clear away the rocks and I took one of her hands. “Why are you here?”

Agatha smiled, grim and happy at the same time. “Do you remember how I complained that I could not see things to the right and to the left of me? And I could only see a small circle of things in front of me?”

“We had to lead you everywhere, like a little puppy,” I remembered. “You refused to paint or draw any more as you could only see a small part of it at a time.”

Agatha nodded. “I woke up a week ago and found that I could not see anything. No matter how much the priestesses sacrificed and prayed to Lady Athena, and begged the priestesses of Lady Artemis to pray for divine intervention for me, I still could not see. They even persuaded several priests of Lord Apollo to pray to him on their behalf, but I was still blind.

“I realized that I was a burden to them, and I asked them to let me go. They asked me where I would go, and I said that since you were likely in need of a companion I would go to you, and as there would be no point in me opening my eyes anymore, I would be safe from your gaze.

“They gave me a knife, a sack of food, two skins of water, clothes, extra sandals and some wheat and barley to grow. They also gave me a fishing rod. I asked them to give me some scrolls, yarn and needles, for you. They gave me money to buy passage here, and one of the sailors felt sorry for me and made a cane for me. And here I am.”

She put the sack on the ground and opened it, bringing out the scrolls, yarn and needles and holding them out to me. “I know it will only last for so long, but I thought you would be bored, and at least this will take your mind off things for a little while.”

I ignored them and embraced her. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“I never told you I considered you my older sister, did I?” she asked. “Now I tell you that you are like my sister, and I will not let my sister be alone.”

Agatha. Her name meant ‘good’. I never thought it would be so fitting until that moment.

Every day, she would leave the cave and fish, while I usually went around the island and collected whatever was edible. We had planted the wheat and barley, and the seeds from the fruit, so within a few months we had more than enough food for both of us.

We learned how to store food for winter, and how to store firewood so that it stayed dry throughout winter. In this way we lived happily. We had a safe little bubble for ourselves, where nothing bad could happen.

When the so-called heroes came, I always told her to be silent. The heroes would not spare her if she tried to protect me, as I knew she would. She always obeyed, and I always pleaded with the heroes to let me live, as I had not harmed a soul except by accident, and I had to look after Agatha. Many took pity and left. Some tried to attack me or Agatha, and I was forced to kill them in self-defence.

Agatha always understood that when there were new statues, it meant that the men had tried to attack one of us, and I had no choice but to kill them to protect myself and her. If they killed me, I could no longer be sure that Agatha would be safe, and I would not let her be killed while someone tried to kill me.

Then Perseus came.

We had no warning. Agatha was near the entrance of the cave, basking in the sunlight, when Perseus arrived. She tried to stop him.

Later stories will not remember her death. They will remember Perseus as a brave hero, a good man. He is not anywhere close to that. He knew the reason many of the heroes had let me be was because I was caring for a blind little girl, and he took advantage of that. I heard her scream, and I dropped my knitting to run to her.

The stories say that he used his shield to locate me. He did not. He killed Agatha and moved her body to directly in front of the cave, where I would see it as I ran to her, then hid just beside the entrance and ambushed me. I felt a searing pain in the back of my neck, and I soon stood in front of the Three Judges, in my original form, before I was cursed. Agatha stood next to me, holding my hand.

“Medusa. You have killed innocent men, women and children,” the judge on the left said.

“But not intentionally,” the judge on the right pointed out. “And she took in and cared for a young blinded girl as if the girl was her daughter. From then on she only killed when she herself or the child was in danger.”

“It does not change the fact that she committed murder.”

“It is counted as manslaughter, and murder in self-defence is not counted.”

“She defiled the temple of her goddess.”

“She was raped. It was not her fault.”

“And the child, Agatha. She was the reason those murders were committed.”

“As I have already said before, Medusa was attempting to protect her, and the men were trying to attack the girl. She should not be part of this. She has lived her whole life as an innocent.”

“Enough,” the middle judge boomed. “Medusa was a victim of fate. I clear her of all charges. As for Agatha, she is not guilty of anything either. Elysium, for both of them.”

There was a blinding flash of light, and we stood in a beautiful villa, just right for two people.

Agatha took off her blindfold, then laughed. “Medusa, I can see!”

A.N. In case you're wondering, Agatha's supposed to be suffering from juvenile open-angle glaucoma, which back then without modern medicine could easily leave her blind by age seven or eight. I couldn't find a lot of useful information on it, so it's just a rough guess.