"Oh, what? These, these aren't tears. It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall."
The eldest daughter of Hyperion, a figure of strength and resilience, quickly wiped away the tears glistening on her cheeks before her dearest little sister, the ethereal and delicate Palutena, could catch a glimpse of the sorrow etched on the Goddess of Darkness's pale face. It was her solemn duty to serve as a fortress of support for her little sister, a role she embraced wholeheartedly, no matter the weight of the burdens that pressed down upon her shoulders. Yet, despite her best efforts to maintain a facade of strength, she couldn't help but offer Palutena a warm, sympathetic smile, especially when she noticed the look of concern etched on her sister's features.
Medusa leaned in closer, her smile softening as she beckoned Palutena to draw nearer, fostering a moment of intimacy between the two. With a delicate motion, she cupped her hand over her mouth, a playful gesture that was meant to shield the words that were about to escape her lips. She whispered a secret, her voice a gentle murmur that danced in the still air, "But when the rain came down, I made a vow to the dark, that what they hear isn't laughter, after all. It's just your voice, learning to stand up tall. And no matter what, I shall always be by my sister's side, supporting her."
Her words held a sense of hope, a promise that even in darkness there was room for courage and growth. Medusaβs heart swelled with pride as she shared her truth with her sister, a quiet call to embrace her own strength amidst the shadows that surrounded them...
Even though it was Medusa who faced the brunt of Palutena's punishments, her acceptance of this burden was rooted in a deeper purpose. Her love for her sister motivated her to make sacrifices, leading her to endure hardships silently to protect Palutena's happiness. Medusa envisioned her sister as someone who could stand tall and unapologetically free, unshackled by the whims of the gods or the constraints imposed by men.
With this deep desire in her heart, Medusa willingly embraced every punishment inflicted upon her, each one proof of her love and dedication. She chose to conceal her tears from Palutena, believing that her own sorrow should not cast a shadow over her sister's light. Medusa wanted nothing more than to protect that exquisite glow and ensure that it continued to shine brightly, unwavering and pure.
Palutena, young and naive, does not realize the mistake she has made.
It is not her tied at the helm of punishment.
It is not her feeling the weight and pain of their father's disappointment. She does not understand.
She does not know that her dear sister, forced to handle the brunt of of their father's anger, was the one taking the blame for the Goddess of Light's mistakes.
Medusa, who was given the responsibility of watching over the Goddess of Light, has failed her their father Hyperion's eyes. The great titan looks down upon her, disappointed that she did not stop her youngest sister from making a mockery of the court, for speaking out when she'd noticed the injustices surrounding.
She does not know it is because of her but Palutena is not blind. She knows her sister is hurting and trying to hide the tears that stains her cheeks. She always did try to be strong.
Medusa whispers words of encouragement to her, but Palutena's heart doesn't stop aching for her sister. The pain extends past guilt, wishing there was more she could do even if she does not understand what Medusa had done.
But she afraid. Afraid of earning the same wrath, the same scornful punishment.
She notes the chains bound around Medusa's wrists and body, keeping her dormant, from making any more mistakes that were not her own. The cold chains dig into pale flesh until every subtle movement is a reminder of her misgivings. She will not be allowed to leave until she understands the gravity of what she'd done. To make sure it never happens again.
Palutena reaches for her sister, hands cupping Medusa's tear-stained cheeks. A thumb smooths over her cheekbones to catch any stray tears, wishing it was enough to comfort her. Simply visiting her imprisoned sister was asking for trouble, but Palutena never was good at following direction.
Palutena says nothing, only staring into her sister's eyes as if searching for something. Medusa rarely steps out of line, so whatever she had done, it must have been dire. Their father never blindly punishes his daughters.
She breathes evenly. "Whatever you have done, I pray that lessons have been learned today. I do not like to see you like this... To anger father is not an objective I'd ever assumed from you. Once you are free, will you ensure you do not anger him again?"
Yes, she is naive, indeed.
