I didn't know where I was going, only that I needed to get out of there. Perseus' words reverberated in my mind as I moved through the moonlit forest, each one like barbs sinking into my skin: mindless beast, monster.

I may have been a monster, but he was wrong about me being emotionless. I felt things as much as he did. I felt the stabbing pains of guilt and shame every time my curse killed another mortal, felt the crushing wright of my own loneliness whenever I missed my mother.

At least I didn't choose to kill. My curse made that choice for me. Perseus, though, killed quite willingly with that sword of his. At the thought of him, my anger at his words surged, but also my hurt. I hated to acknowledge that his words had hurt me, but I also couldn't deny it. Though I had always known how he viewed me as my true self, it was usually so easy to ignore when I was with him. He laughed easily, he talked with me. He wove his loom and smiled when he heard me sing. This evening had been a sharp reminder: don't get used to any of it, for he'd kill you in a heartbeat if he knew who you were.

The moon was high and full, brightening my path through the forest in spite of the darkness. I stayed mired in my thoughts, letting my feet carry me wherever they would without giving it a thought. Unconsciously, they took a sharp left, carrying me out of the forest and up the slopes of the mountainside. I should have known my heart would yearn to be in the garden, that place of beauty and healing. As soon as I stepped beneath the branches of the cypress trees, my body instinctively relaxed.

I walked among the plants and flowers, admiring the evening primroses and moon lilies, those flowers that only showed their blossoms at night. I inhaled the sweet fragrance of them, letting it soothe me. My worries and fears didn't disappear, but I felt just a bit better. All of the leaves and branches rustled in the evening wind. It will be alright, they seemed to whisper to me. Everything will be fine.

The breeze brought with it the sharp scent of salt down from the sea, filling my nose with the strong smell. I lifted my head, gazing down toward the shore. The full moon reflected off of the black waves, casting the imprint of its shining image upon the water. I idly wondered if Artemis would be present with the full moon, the symbol of the maiden goddess and her hunt. I suspected that her huntresses passed through the woods of Sarpedon on rare occasions, chasing the game there. I had yet to come across them myself, and I never intended too. Would they hunt me too, I sometimes wondered, if we ever did cross paths?

The waves lapped at the shore rhythmically as my eyes scanned the beach, a now familiar habit. No ships marked the horizon, no bright white sails marred the darkness of the night. Perseus' men were not yet here. I still had more time.

But not much, a small voice warned me. Two months have already passed. They will come soon.

I tensed, but didn't move my gaze away from the sea.

They would come and Perseus would go. That would be the end of it all, and I would be safe on my island once again. Safe and alone.

The sound of a snapping twig startled me, and I whipped around, my snakes rising in defense and baring their fangs.

Through the brush, Perseus carefully used his staff to test the ground in front of him and make his way forward. He had nearly stumbled, but caught himself. The moonlight reflected in his eyes as he gazed around the garden blindly- searching for me, I realized belatedly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, alerting him of my location. His gaze snapped toward me and the spot where I was kneeling among the flowers. He paused for a moment, then started forward in my direction

I was mildly surprised he had found his way up here alone. Of course, by now he was able to walk from the temple to the garden without any of my help, but I had still always been with him, walking by his side ready to guide him. I struggled to suppress the proud, happy feeling that welled up inside at seeing his accomplishment- I was still angry at him and I was not going to forget his words so easily.

"I needed to find you," he said. "I thought you might be here."

He stopped in front of me, staring at the space above my head, his staff clasped tightly in his hands. I glanced at the way he held it with unusual strength, so much that his knuckles had turned white. They were the only sign that betrayed his inner turmoil.

I exhaled slowly, then reached for his hand. I tugged on it once, motioning for him to sit down beside me on the ground. He did so, feeling the earth gently, his movements slow and measured. I stared at the strong, handsome features of his face, those hypnotizing eyes, and quickly turned away.

I hardened my voice. "What do you want?"

He said nothing for a moment. He released his grip on the staff and placed it on the ground. Instead he reached around with outstretched hands, touching the soft green leaves and petals around us. It seemed to give him the strength he needed to speak.

"I had never killed a man before I joined Polydectes' army," he said. His voice was rigid, strained. He lowered his gaze. "I was afraid to do it. I thought it would be horrible, to steal the life from another, to watch the soul leave their eyes and know I had been the one to do it. The other soldiers teased. They said I was soft-hearted, naïve. They said I would understand when my first battle came.

"It came quickly enough. A small group of cattle thieves and bandits were terrorizing villages and the army was sent to deal with it. We faced off against them in the woods. It was the middle of the day, but it was overcast and grim. We destroyed the bandits easily.

"I had killed not just one man that day, but four. And I discovered that the soldiers had been right. It was nothing to kill, nothing to send an enemy to the underworld. The battle had been fast and chaotic and filled with adrenaline. It had only just ended, and already I couldn't remember the faces of the men I'd killed, could hardly even remember how I'd killed them."

Faces flashed before me, every feature, every horrified gaze of the men and women I'd killed. I would not forget those faces if I lived for a thousand years. Perseus' expression was distant, his unseeing gaze looking at something far away. "I remember thinking that I was made to be a soldier, if killing was so easy to me."

"I've continued fighting battles and taking lives since then, and never once have I felt any remorse, any sadness or guilt or pain over taking another life." He shook his head slowly. His hand moved through the foliage until he felt the petals of a snow-white moon lily under his touch. In one swift movement, he wrapped his hand around it and plucked the flower from the earth. "It's like this, Andromeda." He said, twirling the dead flower sadly around his fingers. "It's as easy as picking a flower from the garden."

"My only pain, my only remorse, is the shame that weighs on me for feeling nothing. I know it's wrong. I know it makes me a monster. But I can't force myself to feel something that I don't."

He turned toward me then, a deep sadness behind his eyes.

"I'm a selfish coward, Andromeda. I don't want to think of myself as a monster. I don't want to live with that burden." He inhaled deeply. "If only they are monsters, then I can go on believing that I'm not one."

"And do you?" I found myself asking. "Do you truly believe that?"

His face twisted into a mask of broken desperation, of a man who knew the truth but sought to deny it at all costs. I couldn't imagine what a miserable existence that must be.

"I don't know," he whispered. "Perhaps I don't want to know."

My gaze drifted back toward the sea. I suddenly felt very distant, like a cloud drifting across the sky with not attachments, no fears or desires at all.

"No one wants to think of themselves as a monster," I murmured softly under my breath. Perseus heard me and looked away in shame. He had no way of knowing that I was not thinking of him when I spoke, but of myself.

Did that make me good, then, at least in some small, miniscule fashion? I felt shame, felt regret and agony every time I killed. I remembered the faces of my victims, mourned for them and begged their forgiveness in my mind. I did have feelings, did have a conscience.

What was the definition of a monster? I had accepted the fact that I was one for so long, that I only now realized that I had never asked myself that question. My mind whirled with new, frightening yet hopeful thoughts.

A million different things to say rushed through my head, but I could say none of them to Perseus. How could I, without revealing myself to him as the monster I really was? A part of me was tempted to just tell him now, to have it over with before he found out on his own. The logical part of me didn't dare.

"I suppose..." I paused and took a deep breath, struggling to gain courage. "I suppose the gods get to choose who is a monster and who isn't." I spoke slowly and with great intention, searching for the right words. "If remorseless killing defines a monster, then men like you would count. If mindless killing defines them, then creatures like Scylla and the minotaur are the true monsters. But I think..." I paused once more. What about me? I asked myself. I am not mindless, nor remorseless, yet I am still a monster. "I think killing for any reason is enough- if you kill innocents, you are a monster."

"Then I imagine that makes all of us monsters," Perseus muttered darkly, eyes flashing in the moonlight. "Or none of us- you'd feel sick to your stomach to see the lengths that men will go to prove that innocent men are guilty and guilty men are innocent."

I frowned. I had not thought of that, but Perseus was right. Who got to decide which deaths were justified and which were monstrous? Did a man deserve to die if he stole a cow from his neighbor, if he served the wrong king? Did a child?

"Then maybe I spoke wrongly before," I amended. "Maybe innocence is irrelevant. Killing anyone, innocent or guilty, defines a monster."

Perseus let out a short, bitter laugh. "Then even the gods are monsters," he said. His sullen tone suggested he did not doubt the possibility.

An image of Athena flashed across my mind, her sharp grey eyes watching over me with unjust fury and cruelty, her lithe fingers dancing with the power of curses and plagues. I said nothing, but silently I agreed.

We lapsed into silence for a while, neither of us seeming to know what to say next and neither of us wanting to leave the warmth and beauty of the garden. I counted the primroses that were blooming, then counted the buds not yet fully grown, my heart finding a place of peace and calm with the flowers.

Perseus, as always, seemed to be deep in some intricate thought, his brow low over his eyes and his jaw tensed. His blind gaze wandered toward the sea. I wondered if he smelled the salt on the breeze, if his mind, like mine, turned to thoughts of his ships returning to the island. I could only assume he longed for that moment when they arrived and he could leave here forever. My chest flared with pain and I once more distracted myself with the flowers and herbs.

"Andromeda." He spoke suddenly, breaking me from my distractions. "Have you ever killed someone?"

I stiffened, my hand freezing upon the petals of a moon flower, my entire body going cold with fear and uncertainty. Yes, I would answer him if I chose to spoke the truth. Dozens of people, perhaps hundreds. Both men and women and children without distinction. I killed them all. The statues that used to be their bodies I keep at the top of the right Shoulder, for while I can't bear to look at them my guilt refuses to let me destroy them.

I kept those words guarded closely inside my heart. My pulse beat rapidly, knowing that I had already hesitated for much too long. If I told him no, he would not believe me. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, forcing my body to unfreeze, my tongue to speak as I commanded it. I would tell him a small kernel of the truth.

"Yes," I replied. Perseus did not give away any reaction, did not reveal whether he had expected this answer or not. He merely waited patiently, in silence, for me to continue.

"Soon after my mother died, a ship arrived on shore." Visitors were always a cause for panic, for fear, but I could not drag myself out of my grief long enough to even care. I did not even try to hide or run away.

"I was afraid of strangers. My mother had always taught me to be wary, to be aware that strangers on the island were more likely to harm than help me." She told me to run away from them, to hide myself. But sooner or later, they always found me. I believed that it was another part of the curse- Athena guided my victims' path straight to me.

"My mother was right this time. The two men who had been in the ship came right to me, armed and vicious." They were two proud young heroes seeking glory in my death. They'd approached me with eyes shut tight and a pompous confidence found only in the young and greedy.

"They attacked, but they didn't expect me to fight back. That was my only chance against them." They were clumsy and slow without their sight, but nonetheless fought well. They injured me, one sword slashing across my thigh and drawing blood. Unconsciously, my hand moved to hover over the scar as I spoke.

"I managed to kill them. I stabbed them with my carving knife and let them bleed out." I hadn't even needed to injure them in the end. They had each opened their eyes accidentally, becoming the next in the long line of my curse's victims. Their statues still stood at the top of the mountain with all of the others.

Perseus was silent for a long moment, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"It can't be true that anyone who takes a life is a monster," he said at last. "Those men deserved to die. And if there is one thing I know for certain, it is that you are not a monster."

I felt as if a hand had reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart tightly, a sharp, deep pain overwhelming me. I surged with hope and disbelief that he could sound so sure, so sincere and affectionate, but in the next moment the feeling was brutally crushed by my reality. I plucked a primrose from the dirt, twirling it around my fingers as I waited for my racing heartbeat to calm.

We sat in the garden in peaceful silence, listening to the distant waves and the soft summer breeze. I stared at the flower, my mind overcome with warring thoughts of heroes and monsters, innocent and guilty.

My fist closed around the blossom, crushing it in my palm. I did not want to think about monsters anymore.