Ava did not scream, but it was a near thing. No words could fully express the visage before her. 

Eventually, she managed to whisper, “g-g-gorgon” almost to herself, like a prayer.

Ava had learned of gorgons as a child. They were beings cursed by the gods that no one may lay eyes upon them, essentially damning them to a lonely, terrifying existence.  

“Yes, my bird,” she replied sadly. “Now you understand.” 

Damalia stood before her. Free of her cloak, she wore a simple, form-fitting black dress that was cinched around her slender waist. With her hood down, her head was fully exposed. Her face was not ugly, quite the opposite in fact. She was tragically beautiful, with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and full lips. She may have had the most gorgeous face Ava had ever seen. 

It was what sat atop her head that gave her pause. Along her strands of fiery hair there was a mass of blood-red coiling snakes. Ava bit her lip, unsure of what to say. What was there to say? How have I not managed to notice this before? 

“W-why haven’t I heard them?” Ava asked tentatively. “The movement, or hissing?”

Damalia nodded in understanding. “I have complete control of them. Only in moments of extreme distress do they resist my will.”

Damalia’s eyes remained closed to prevent, what Ava assumed, was a killing glare. 

Ava did her best to process the sight before her. Her body felt numb, as though she was in a dream. Am I dreaming? She thought to herself. Could this possibly be real? 

“What other questions do you have for me? I will do my best to answer all of them.”

Then we might be here all night. 

“I-, well,” she started. “If you truly are a gorgon, why has nobody in the town been turned to stone?”

Damalia gave a cold, humorless laugh. “That is a misnomer. I am cursed to cause men’s hearts to fail them, which is a much more excruciating death. I often take mercy and end their lives before that happens.”

Ava gasped, her eyes growing wide. “The murderer...have you been killing those men?” Ava attempted to move up the bed, but her leg screamed in pain.

“You must understand!” Damalia rushed to explain. “Those men… Ava, it was only the ones that hurt you or intended to hurt you! Or the other women of the temple.”

“The man at the baths… the one who attempted to…” Ava trailed off and shuddered at the memory of the naked soldier that had approached her so recklessly. “Was it you that made the noise? Were you the one that rescued me?”

Damalia nodded. A few moments of silence passed while Ava collected her thoughts.

“I have no regrets about killing them,” Damalia continued. “I have spent my life doing what I needed to to survive. I have done the same to ensure your survival as well.”

“So this is why you wouldn’t let me see you? Why you wouldn’t let me near you?”  

“I didn’t want to frighten you or accidentally harm you. But now you know the truth,” she sighed deeply, as if she was making a difficult decision. “All things necessary for your survival and recovery can be found here. I know it is your mission to end the monster's reign of terror.”

Damalia let out a deep shuddering breath and Ava was surprised to see tears running down her pale cheeks. “You must know by now that I would do anything for your happiness. I don’t want you to feel trapped here. If you bring them my head, you can fully return to your old life. You’ll be hailed as a hero. They will likely elevate you to a priestess and a life of luxury. I want you to have a choice in your destiny. This is my final gift to you.” 

Damalia pulled a silver dagger that had been hidden in her belt. She placed it hilt first in Ava’s hand and gave another shuddering breath.

“If you think I’m a monster, if you wish to return to the temple and live in the comfort you deserve, I would not blame you. You may kill me now and I will not stop you. But before you do, you must know how deeply and ardently I love you, Ava." Her voice was barely above a whisper and held vulnerabilty she'd never heard before. "Your company has given life to a long and hopeless existence. I feel privileged to have known you, my dove.”

The dagger weighed heavily in Ava’s trembling hands.

Damalia set her hip at the edge of the bed. Her arms stretch outwards and rested by Ava’s shoulders. She tilted her jaw upwards and offered her long expanse of supple neck.

“Just be quick,” she breathed. 

Damalia startled at the sound of metal hitting the floor. Rather than the sting of a dagger cutting her throat, Damalia felt a soft kiss upon her lips.

“You really are a fool,” Ava whispered.