Minerva’s temple was a distant memory. Khrysoar, himself never cast his sight on his much malign mother. Raised in great wealth, his fate was from glorious solider to owner of a herd. One doesn’t need to be fall so far when the blood of gods course through your veins.
Its was time to call upon his brother. He would find something of his mother. Perseus had cowardly slain his mother. Attacking in her sleep was no way for demigod to perish. His father told him to live, not avenge. Pegasus owned him a couple of favors. It was the to call them in.
The damage to medusa was severe, her children sprung from her neck. The evils of turning people to stone was a myth, surely her family would do the same. Never had Khrysoar seen it done.
Pegasus flew him to the seen of the crime. It was empty. Many years had passed. Legends grew, memories faded.
A temple girl named Aja, was applying herself with oils and flowers. Khrysoar spoke to get her attention.
When she looked. .. She turned to stone.