King Polydectes cared little for his people and sought only personal pleasures, thus for many years the people of Seriphos suffered under his rule. The people were starving, unprotected from bandits and beasts alike, while the king thrived behind his palace walls. However, despite his many graces, the king was unhappy.


He had never known love, or true happiness, or success in life. The crown upon his head was handed through no conquest of his own but simply was a birthright handed down upon the death of his fathis. Due to the great unlikeability of his character, he was unwed and had fathered no children. Even his soldiers looked down on him behind his back, favoring great warriors like the rising Perseus to points of which talks to who deserved a kingdom began to circulate — does a man whose blade has never tasted blood deserve to rule at all? Many believed Perseus and his new wife Andromeda were better suited. 


The king envied Perseus for his fortunes in life, for the favor of the kingdom, and for his wife granted to Perseus by the very gods themselves. Thus the king came up with a horrid plan.


King Polydectes invented tales of a well known monster. He sowed stories through the kingdom of kidnappings, murders, cannibalistic rituals, and in each story the blame was given to the Gorgon Sisters, one of which lived on the outskirts of Seriphos. As intended, the stories drew the attention of Perseus. He was a soldier of high morality and noble cause. When the woes of Seriphos reached Perseus in Argos, he traveled far to present himself before King Polydectes in order to offer his services. 


The king ordered Perseus to slay the gorgon Medusa in exchange for riches beyond the soldier’s wildest dreams; the very crown which sat upon the king’s head and all the riches tied to it. As a sign of good faith, he gifted Perseus a shield of Seriphos and an enchanted sword able to cut through anything through which the blade made contact. With sword and shield in hand, Perseus set off for the cave of Medusa, unaware of the true dangers he was to face.


When he entered the cave, Perseus found what appeared to be a giant snake. It laid curled into a writhing ball in the center of the cave, its body twisted upon itself in such contortion that he could not at first see its head. From the muffled breathing which filled the cave, the creature seemed to be asleep. Perseus drew near slowly as he held breath in a shuddering whisper. Within arms reach, he readied the sword and tightened the grip on his shield strap but just before he could plunge the blade into the scaled body before him, scales slithered away to reveal the face of a woman. 


Her skin was like purified copper flecked with rich earth. She had long curling eyelashes that fluttered softly on her cheeks as she slept. Perseus was so shocked at the sight of a beautiful maiden entrapped in the thrall of a monster that he could not help the shifting of his feet on stone. He winced at the scraping sound, amplified by the cave walls, before another sound made gave him pause – a soft rustling which started quiet but grew louder by the second. 


Perseus readied his sword again and turned hurriedly to the woman; he had decided he would cut her free and run. If he could get her to safety, perhaps back to the kingdom, he would return to finish the monster off. He swung the blade high above his head as the maiden opened her eyes.


King Polydectes sat on his gilded throne and praised himself for his cleverness. Perseus, the fool, had no knowledge of the gorgon and had willfully offered his life to be thrown away for a price the king would never have to pay. He chuckled to himself as he imagined the soldier’s surprise when discovering the snake woman’s power and wondered if Perseus realized he had been tricked before meeting his end. Sudden shouts and screams interrupted the king’s thoughts.


His soldiers were fighting in the halls. King Polydectes could hear the clashing of metal from his seat. Has Athens at last invaded? He briefly wondered before the doors to the throne room were thrown open.


Cobalt scales as dark as a night sky wrapped around the towering scaled body of Medusa, youngest of the Gorgon sisters and the bane of humankind. Scales climbed her hips and around her shoulders, her torso was that of an Amazonian. Her face which held a beauty that rivaled her horrific nature was partially hidden by a veil that hid her eyes. Her hair, had it been hair, was that of long black snakes whose heads were the color of rubies. King Polydectes saw the bodies of his soldiers strewn about the floor behind her.


King Polydectes shrunk back into his chair. The snakes of hair flickered their tongues at the taste of his fear. Medusa turned her head in his direction and spoke.


“Are you the ruler of this kingdom?”


Her voice, though quiet, echoed in the chamber like music. King Polydectes swallowed nervously.


“What madness is this? What business have you here?”


Medusa threw the remains of a shield at his feet. She pointed a clawed finger at the king and then at the shield.


“You are the one who tried to kill me.” The snakes hissed in anger.


“No!” King Polydectes shook his head so profusely that his crown toppled off his head. It clattered on the ground before rolling to a stop in front of Medusa.


“I am no soldier, I have no skill with a sword or shield! Perseus tried to kill you!” 


“You gave the order, did you not?” She demanded as she pointed a clawed finger at the shield. It was broken almost entirely in half, but the symbol of Seriphos, the king’s seal, shone bright beneath the torchlight of the throne room.


Polydectes began to stutter as Medusa started to crawl the steps leading to his throne. With the flick of a powerful tail she flung the discarded crown at the king. He ducked barely in time; the crown soared over his head and through the window above. The marbled staircase sighed as Medusa’s scales slid across them. She towered over the king, her head almost touching the ceiling before she bent at the waistline to level her gaze with his own. Polydectes quickly shut his eyes and turned away, pressing himself into the wood of his chair as if he could become one with it.


“Do we frighten you? Does our appearance offend you so?”


Medusa’s breath was warm on his face.

King Polydectes yelped when one of the snakes lashed his cheek with its tongue.


“What did you promise Perseus to reward his barbarity?”


“The greatest desire; to rule.”


Medusa laughed. She thumped her tail on the marbled floor so forcibly that it cracked. Out of instinct, his eyes flew open as he grasped the throne for support and found himself staring into emerald slitted eyes behind a thin veil. 


It started at his fingertips. Slowly the flesh on his hand grew dark as it hardened to stone. It quickly consumed his hands and traveled up his arms. At the same moment, a pain grew in his chest as it too turned to stone. Before he could think to move, his legs had petrified from his feet to his hips, calcifying him to his seat. Medusa lifted her veil and King Polydectes gazed in equal awe and horror at her ethereal features marred with rage. 


“Please,” Polydectes pleaded, “Spare me and whatever you desire is yours!” 


“You already have.” Medusa hissed as Polydectes’ last breath was forever trapped in stone.


In the year to come, there was a hushed whisper among the people, an agreement kept low in mumbled breath over tankards of Ambrosia wine – a happiness never known under ruling of the Petrified King. Medusa was surprisingly kind. All tributes of gold or silver given to her, she laid into the city. The city now thrived in both architecture and agriculture and had become one of the richest cities known to man, save only that of the Empire. The people wanted for nothing and soon their fears turned inwards to that of love and devotion and a desire to protect their Queen from any future assassination attempts.


Only a handful had witnessed, and later called themselves blessed, the great Medusa’s march to the palace. The awe of setting eyes upon a Gorgon, and living to tell the tale, was one enough to not be believed, yet here now were a hundred or so peoples who shared the tale. These people cheered when Medusa announced the death of their oppressor, and begged their savior to stay. She agreed under the condition that no mortal ever again lay hand to sword against her, or else her rage would be set to the entire city.


So, a plan was devised.


The people of Seriphos spread a rumor and set it to the hands of the God Hermes to deliver it upon the world – that King Polydectes was dead, killed by his own people in a spite of revolution, that Seriphos was a free nation now in care of its Temple. The people wished not for expansion, nor world domination, only to remain free.


The news spread as wind. Many were shocked at the suddenness, but unsurprised at the supposed fate of a tyrant whose villainous exploit of his own people had reached even the great Caesar’s gilded ears. The world applauded the people of Seriphos and honored their wishes to remain free, and so did Seriphos thrive under the secret ruling of the Gorgon Queen.


All the while – deep within a hidden cave– the statue of Perseus stood ever still.