“You poor thing.” Medea whispered to herself, while she watched her Master explore the new singularity, and saw the newest Servant to meet her Master.
A young maiden infatuated with a golden-haired ‘Hero’.
What is it with Golden haired heroes being utter scum? Atleast the World’s Oldest Bully had a redeemable aspect or two.
How young she was, when that monster had stolen her heart with the power of a Goddess and caused her to bring ruin to her beloved Colchis.
How innocent she had been, when she had joined that Crew of upstarts on the Argo.
She had made her peace with Atalante, and she atleast pitied the mess that Heracles had become.
But she would never forgive him.
He, who had convinced a Goddess to enable his vile plan.
He, who had taken control of her mind.
He, who had not even the decency to pretend to love her.
He, who hadn’t told his crew of what he had done, and was eager to convince them she had been a young love-struck waif.
He, who had used her to kill her own beloved brother.
He, who gladly used her to to keep his throne despite apparently being disgusted in her methods.
He, who had still refused to even consider loving her after all he had put her through for the sake of his own pride.
He, who abandoned her for another woman and created a family with.
He, whose death had earned her the legend of the Witch of Betrayal, which was the worst thing he had done to her, tainting her for the rest of her life.
So she watched her Master experience her sordid past, and took comfort that this version of her would never have to personally experience the lifetime of pain she had gone through.
………atleast, that was what she had thought, until she saw what her young self was planning.
And Medea revelled in it. While she pitied that her Master was caught up in the scheme, it was cathartic watching her young self get the revenge she had always craved while still being bound by the perverse adoration she had of the cretin.
A single tear rolled down Medea’s fae cheek, tracing a path from her sad eyes to the bittersweet smile that now formed on her face.
Inspired by her young self’s scheming, Medea headed towards Da Vinci’s workshop, Rulebreaker in hand.
Let’s deny that bastard some more.