ORIGINS: The eyes of the second character in the original series looked just like gorgon-crested birds, ready and eager to turn everything into stone. We have a weak spot for gizzard stones, and we love birds that reach for the sky and never stop polishing their songs.
I don’t need a crest, I don’t want to have anything in common with the waves. Mine will be a crown of snakes, to turn everything my gaze touches into stone. Let other birds keep their gizzard stones. Let them keep grinding their food. I will use my stones to perfect my song. I deserve nothing less than majesty. A deer stomping its hoof on the ground to extinguish a forest fire. Mine will be the only song that brings fire to its knees. I don’t need to fly in the sky. True freedom lies in knowing that you are untouchable. And that is what I will be.
I have always been in awe of horses. When I was young, I didn’t need crestfallen waves to lull me into sleep. My lullabies were the clouds of dust horses leave in their wake when they gallop away. All I have ever wanted is to dream. To engulf reality in remnants of the stars. But now that I am a full-fledged gorgon, I can’t keep letting someone else make the world disappear for me. I want to sing. I have to do it myself. All I need is a handful of stones. You will see. I will gargle until my voice turns to dust. And then I will sing, like horses taught me to do.
It’s not fair. I never asked to be a bird. The sky is mean. That hollow blue is where all memories fade away. I can feel my heart turning to stone inside my chest. Soon, I will be a grown-up. All my smiles will be a means to an end, I will be rendered mute and I will no longer be able to laugh from the bottom of my heart. Soon, I will forget the sound of my own laughter. And it’s not fair. Why do early childhood memories have to be the first to fade away? I don’t want to remember my lies. I wish I could remember my truths. I wish I could use the broken pieces of my heart to change the color of my song. I wish the elephant-grey of those stones would rub off on my song. Even if it hurt, like rubbing salt into a wound. If my heart can’t keep beating true, I would rather keep my memories.
What do you want me to say? I want to feel butterflies in my stomach. But I have seen too much of the world, more than enough to know that I will never be able to fall in love with something so ugly. I have a song, and I refuse to waste it with something that will only leave a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I would have preferred sweetness. I could have settled for a bittersweet aftertaste. But what I know for sure is that I won’t starve to death. So, I will turn everything to stone. I will break the world into pieces, and I will sing among the rubble. I will sing until the butterflies come for the soul of this dead world. And then I will feast on them.
Liar. You told me that if I gave you one of my eyes, you wouldn’t touch that deer. You promised me that you wouldn’t turn it to stone. The real stars are out of your reach, and you said that my starry eyes would do. I let you turn my innocence to dust. I gave up my dreams, I cut my childhood short, all because you told me that you would spare that deer. Liar. Liar. Liar. If flesh doesn’t rot, there is no oblivion. My king deserved to be forgotten, not to be immortalized. I don’t need a hero. I don’t need a villain. I only ever wanted memories, a truth no one could take away from me. But you have sowed the seed for the spread of a thousand lies.
This is not what I asked for. All I said was that I never got to be a child. That everybody kept telling me that Winter was around the corner and I should prepare for it, like the good little squirrel that I was. That I should learn, learn, learn. All the numbers and all the smiles that would get me somewhere one cold winter day. I wanted a teddy bear. A little bit of warmth. That was all. A hug. Solace. A pause. One day, just one, to be a child. I didn’t pay for this. I never told you to turn me to stone. What will I do now? I wasn’t done. I still had things that I had to learn. How am I supposed to survive among grown-ups now?
It’s a fair deal. The gorgon gets one of my eyes, a little bit of starlight, a little bit of magic so that she can feel pretty again, and I get my wish. I have always wanted a wave of my own. No, I am not naive, and neither am I sweet. I didn’t ask that gorgon to turn a wave to stone for me because I wanted to spare it the pain of breaking into pieces and disappearing without a trace. It’s just that I don’t think the moon should be having all the fun. I have always wanted to feel powerful too. I have always dreamed of breaking a wave beyond repair, by my own hands. And now, thanks to that gorgon, I even get to bring a trophy home with me. It’s a pity that the seal was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that’s life, isn’t it?
I paid the price the gorgon asked of me. One of my eyes, for a single memory. It shouldn’t have been a hard wish to grant. I only asked for one memory. All I wanted was to be able to look back and say that, once, life had been fair. But the gorgon turned the wrong moment to stone. That game should have ended in a draw.