THE MYTH OF EURYALE
When Medusa was violated by the god Neptune, her two sisters Euryale and Stheno cried to the heavens, mourning with their sister for her pain and loss. The goddess Minerva heard their cries and descended to the temple. In recompence for Neptune’s wrongs, she bestowed powers of protection upon each of the three sisters.
When Minerva placed her hand upon Euryale’s head, she said, “I bestow upon you the gift of the siren. Any man whose blood you taste will fall at your feet and do your will. Even if you command him to die, he will do so.”
Euryale did not understand her gift, but Minerva bid her and her sisters go out into the world and protect all innocents using the gifts she’d given them. Obediently, they set out on their quest.
Of the three sisters, Euryale had always been the most full of joy. But because of recent events, she lost her smile. Still, she wanted to serve Minerva, so she set out on her own.
After a fortnight of wandering, she came upon a kingdom deep in the heart of the forest along a mighty river. There were thatch-roofed houses and a tall palace at its center. Women were weaving intricate baskets,painted with a figure she did not recognize—a king with a golden crown and a jeweled cloak. They paid her no attention as she wandered through the village.
Upon sunset, a line of men—faces and bodies filthy with dirt—entered the village under guard of soldiers wearing armor and swords, some of them hauling satchels over their backs.
“Where do you come from?” Euryale asked an older man with kind but weary eyes.
“From the mountain.”
Euryale then noticed the mountain looming over the forest in the near distance.
“Why do you go there?” she asked.
“To dig jewels for our king. You should leave this place at once,” he warned.
Euryale shadowed the line of men as they continued to march in a line toward the palace at the center of the village. She remained out of sight in the line of trees from the guards as she followed them.
When they reached the palace, they lined up in a square around a stone dais. A horn blew, then the giant doors of the palace opened and out stepped the king. His tunic dripped in glittering gems that sparkled in the afternoon sun, as did his golden crown. He marched up the dais and sat upon a cushioned throne.
“Who must we punish today?” he shouted.
The armored guard in the front took hold of the brawny man’s arm at his side and marched him up the stone steps. Though the guard and villager were equal in size, there was defeat and hopelessness in the hunched shoulders and downcast head of the villager.
“This one, my mighty king. He found the fewest jewels for your coffer today in the mine.”
The king frowned menacingly at the large man and nodded his head. “Then let his punishment begin.”
The guard pushed the man to his knees, tore open his shirt, then pulled out a scourging whip and prepared to beat him.
Euryale felt the power of Minerva surge up inside her. She strode out of the shadows and up the steps in her pale green stola, her soft beauty out of place in this horrible, hard village.
“Stop!” she called before the guard could give the first lash.
All eyes swiveled to her as she ascended the steps to the dais. The king bellowed in his deep, furious voice, “Who dares to stop my nightly ceremony? Who do you think you are, woman?”
“Who do you think you are, mighty king?” She laughed in derision. “You take all and give nothing but pain.”
His puffy face reddened with rage. “Seize her!” he commanded. “Let us show this stranger what we do to those who defy me!”
The giant guard threw down his whip and stormed over to Euryale. She waited until he grabbed hold of her throat.
“You think to beat me?” she asked softly.
The guard froze, disturbed by her lack of fear. While he was distracted, she slit his arm with the tiny dagger she kept on her at all times. He jerked backward, letting her go while he looked at the injury.
But it was too late. She’d swiped a finger along the cut. When he looked up, she opened her mouth and smeared the blood on her tongue. Minerva’s power sang through her veins.
Without hesitation, she commanded, “Kill your king.” Her voice echoed with godly power.
The guard pulled his sword and took three long steps to the throne, then impaled the king where he sat. The king’s eyes flew wide in shock, then he fell from his throne, dead.
