Protector
Perseus, Part 3: Vengeance and prosperity
Content warnings: near-sacrifice, accidental death, killing, attempted forced marriage
Find the previous parts of Perseus’ story here:
Part 1
Part 2
On his fleet-footed journey high above the seas, Perseus flew over Aethiopia. It was a beautiful land ruled by King Cepheus and his queen Cassiopeia, though that beauty was marred by the recent attacks of a horrifying sea monster known as Cetus, a brother of the recently-slain Medusa. Like Queen Niobe of Thebes and Arachne of Lydia before her, Queen Cassiopeia had angered the gods by foolishly comparing herself to them, bringing her kingdom its watery onslaught as punishment.
She had had the audacity to describe herself as more beautiful than the stunning nymph daughters of the sea god Nereus, known as the Nereids. The Nereids had heard of Cassiopeia’s heresy and had taken their vicious complaints to Poseidon, the king of the oceans himself. Poseidon, not best pleased with such an insult against any nymphs of his realm, had dutifully sent the whale-serpent Cetus to ravage the shores of the boastful queen and her husband.
The attacks pained King Cepheus greatly as he heard increasing daily reports of the monster’s rampage that left bodies, empty boats and destroyed coastal villages in its wake. Desperate to stop the Cetus, Cepheus sought the guidance of the Oracle of Ammon, who told him that the only way to save his kingdom was to sacrifice his daughter Andromeda to the roaring waves and the Cetus within.
Distraught at such news, the king tried to postpone abandoning his beloved daughter to the ocean for as long as he could. Without her death, however, the monster claimed more lives every day and by the time Perseus flew over Aethiopia, Andromeda had been reluctantly but obediently chained to a rock out at sea where he found the Cetus bearing down upon her.
Perseus was never one to ignore a damsel in distress and quickly swooped down, pulling out Medusa’s head from its sack as he went. He pulled up her eyelids with a swipe and froze the Cetus into stone in a moment, the tide of water it brought with it crashing down over them both. As the ocean settled back around their small rocky platform, the newly-stone monster began to sink, embedding itself onto the sandy sea floor for good.
Carefully stowing the head back into its protective bag, Perseus made quick work of the chains keeping Andromeda trapped on the rock and helped her up, introducing himself. He listened to her story, reassuring her that he would return her home as quickly as he could with his god-given winged sandals. Ready to depart, Perseus gave Andromeda a warm smile and lifted her easily into his arms, leaping into the air and soaring back up into the sky. He carried her back to the palace and delivered her safely back to her parents, who were ecstatic to see their daughter alive and unharmed.
In gratitude for such an act of bravery, Cepheus offered Perseus Andromeda’s hand in marriage should he wish for it; both were delighted to accept each other and were excited to wed as soon as they could. Cepheus was only too happy for his treasured daughter to marry such a hero as Perseus but there was a small something he’d forgotten: Andromeda had already been promised to his brother, Phineus.
Phineus was outraged at his brother’s change of heart, desperate as he was to have his young, beautiful niece for a bride. Not content to be so easily forsaken, Phineus gathered a mass of followers and brought them, uninvited, to the wedding feast. He barged into the room, smugly satisfied to see that his raiding party significantly outnumbered the wedding guests. He announced his intention to take Andromeda for himself as he had been promised, only reclaiming what he believed to be his.
Perseus saw his bride’s distress at the prospect of being ripped away from her groom and her parents, so he warned his new family to look away and tore Medusa’s head from its bag once more. In a second, a stony ripple of horror overtook Phineus and his men, each staring in terror as they froze before their very eyes. In a heartbeat, the wedding was left in a shocked silence and the company of the dreadful statues, each trapped in a muted scream where they stood.
The freshly-married Perseus and Andromeda departed Aethiopia shortly after their eventful wedding, the hero carrying his new wife in his arms once again. The blood from Medusa’s head had been pooling in the bottom of the magical bag for some short while and now it had at last seeped through the sturdy material. As Perseus flew his love home, the blood from the sack attached to his belt fell down to earth; where the blood landed in the Sahara, venomous vipers sprang into life, while in the Red Sea, the blood blossomed and birthed corals.
Finally touching down in Seriphos, Perseus was excited to introduce his new wife to his mother Danae and surrogate father Dictys. However, reaching Dictys’ home on the island’s shores, they found the fisherman distraught. Though overjoyed to see Perseus alive and well, Dictys had terrible news: from the moment of Perseus’ departure, Polydectes had forgone his ‘engagement’ to Hippodameia, who had never known of such a scheme, and began harassing Danae.
Polydectes had gloated to Dictys of how Perseus would never return and could no longer stop him from having the woman he really wanted. The king had harried Danae in the hours that Dictys was out at sea, eventually taking her against her will to the palace when she wouldn’t come willingly. Dictys explained to Perseus how he had tried to get her back, how he had pleaded with his brother to let Danae free but that Polydectes wouldn’t hear of such a thing. With a brow furrowed by guilt and worry, Dictys delivered the final blow of Polydectes’ wicked plan: Danae and Polydectes were to be married in the next few days and Perseus would likely never be able to help his mother escape the vile king if the wedding came to pass.
Perseus felt a familiar disgust at Polydectes’ shamelessness and indecency, feeling it intermingling with rage. He thanked Dictys for his efforts in trying to stop Polydectes, assuring him that he would fix the situation. Perseus also introduced a newly hopeful Dictys to Andromeda, asking him to keep her safe while he went up to the palace, promising both that he would be careful.
On the well-worn path to Polydectes’ palace, Perseus let the ire at such ill-treatment of his cherished mother burn through him, feeling the angry heat course through his veins. Reaching the sprawling villa, he barged into the feasting hall to find Polydectes and his sycophantic followers drunkenly celebrating the upcoming nuptials. Ripping the Gorgon’s head from its satchel for a final time, Perseus stood firm and displayed the king’s hard-won wedding gift for all to see and, more importantly, for it to see them.
He looked on callously as the entire hall of revellers solidified into stone, each one feeling their skin harden around lungs that refused to expand and hearts that ceased to beat. These statues would linger, eroding away with time until their features were all but a memory, the people of the island insisting that the unfortunate merrymakers were the boulders since scattered across Seriphos.
The threat to Danae gone, Perseus searched the palace for his mother and joyfully reunited with her at last. She, like Dictys, was elated to see her son again, tearfully greeting him with the love of a mother convinced that her only child was gone for good. He explained that Polydectes would never be a problem again and accompanied her, victorious, back home, where he could introduce her to his new wife.
During the jubilant celebrations of their little family that evening, Perseus wandered further down the beach for a moment alone with himself. As though they’d been waiting for such an opportunity, the golden glow of the gods preceded Athena and Hermes for only a moment before they stepped from the light to greet him.
Perseus thanked them fervently; without their gifts, he couldn’t be sure that he would have been able to complete his adventure. He gratefully returned the sandals, helm, sword and bag, complete with Medusa’s head inside. Athena was thrilled, incorporating the head onto her aegis shield as the ultimate weapon against her foes. She also confided in a horrified Perseus that she was developing a double pipe, named an aulos, to mimic the distressed screams of Medusa’s sisters when they discovered her decapitated body. Hermes just shook his head at his half-sister’s enthusiasm, shooting Perseus an apologetic smile as he ushered her away.
In the days that followed his triumphant return, Perseus installed Dictys in Polydectes’ place as the new king of Seriphos. Before long, the palace was cleared of its wretched statues and the island had settled again, falling back into the rhythms of everyday life once more after such a brief and exciting change of power.
Perseus and Danae saw their friend’s contentment and decided that it was time to return home to properly address their own royal kin and their problems. Together with Andromeda, the little family set out on a ship bound for Argos. On hearing of his offspring’s impending return, King Acrisius fled his own kingdom for Thessaly before Perseus would get a chance to dock in Argos, desperate to outrun his dreaded and fateful prophecy.
Perseus, Andromeda and Danae found Acrisius’ throne empty and joined Danae’s mother, Eurydice, at her husband’s palace with Perseus finally taking his rightful place as the heir to the throne of Argos. Neither hide nor hair was seen of Acrisius in Argos for some months, though he wouldn’t remain safe from his prophecy for long.
A grand funeral was to be held in the Thessalian capital city of Larissa, where Acrisius had taken refuge, for the newly-deceased King Amyntor of Ormenium. Both Acrisius and Perseus were invited to pay their respects, so Perseus dutifully boarded his ship once again and set off for Thessaly, feeling the significance of every mile he travelled closer to his grandfather.
During the events held in King Amyntor’s honour Perseus couldn’t find Acrisius anywhere, strongly suspecting that the old man was hiding from and avoiding him. In the meantime, the young prince took part in the traditional funeral games and hurled a discus but by a fluke — or perhaps the will of the gods — the discus accidentally hit Acrisius, killing him there and then.
The long-feared prophecy had come true, leaving a distressed Perseus who had never met his grandfather, a man whom he’d certainly never wished dead but had managed to kill regardless. On his return to Argos with a deep-seated anguish, Perseus refused to take the throne despite being Acrisius’ heir; he didn’t feel right in benefitting from his grandfather’s death, so instead he came up with an alternative.
Before Perseus was born, Acrisius’ brother Proetus had taken over a portion of Acrisius’ kingdom as his own and had settled in Tiryns. Though a significant amount of land, Proetus’ kingdom was still smaller than Acrisius’ and Argos had flourished under Acrisius’ reign, making his the far more successful kingdom. Since then, Proetus had died and his son Megapenthes had inherited the throne.
Perseus approached Megapenthes with a proposition; he didn’t want the throne of Argos, so he suggested that Megapenthes take Acrisius’ throne and Perseus take Megapenthes’, swapping their kingdoms. His cousin was only too happy to take over Acrisius’ prosperous kingdom, allowing Perseus to inherit his title in the smaller kingdom of Tiryns and Midea without profiting from his deadly accident in Larissa.
Perseus decided to begin afresh with his new kingdom, building a new capital city named Mycenae with the help of the Titan Cyclopes, as they were the only beings capable of lifting the enormous blocks that made up the walls and gates of the city, each being 8ft wide. Under the rule of Perseus and Andromeda, Mycenae would become one of the most powerful cities in the Greek world, as well as one of the most historically significant.
Together, the royal couple had nine children. Two were daughters, Autochthe and Gorgophone, while seven were sons, Alcaeus, Heleus, Mestor, Sthenelus, Cynurus, Electryon and finally Perses, who would grow up to be the father of the Persian kings. Perseus and Andromeda, unlike many such significant figures as them, would enjoy a largely happy life and die of old age, succeeded in their thrones by their son Electryon.
After their deaths, both Perseus and Andromeda were celebrated by the gods and were raised up to the heavens as constellations close to each other, joining Andromeda’s mother Cassiopeia near the north pole. Her placement was a continued punishment for her hubris even after Cetus’ death, however, as Poseidon chained the queen to her throne and forced her constellation to rotate around the north star, humiliating her as she is often seen to be upside-down.
