Divine Martyr braced himself as the enemy gladiator's sparring sword clashed against his bronze shield, causing a resounding clang as Martyr twirled around and used his hind legs to buck his opponent in the chest, allowing himself to gain some distance from the pony in front of him.
"How long are you going to keep this up?" the gladiator questioned, steadying himself and breathing heavily from the previous injury he'd withstood.
"As long as I need to," replied Martyr, breathing evenly, despite having been practicing since early this morning.
Martyr was built for combat, it could be seen anywhere and everywhere from his face to his glyph, a broadsword with angelic wings on each side of the hilt.
The gladiator charged at Martyr once more, but was quickly knocked off his hooves as Martyr bashed his shield against his opponent's torso, causing him to grunt in surprise as dust flew in the air.
"You can't ever hope to improve if you keep charging at me like that without thinking first," taunted Martyr, who was ready to brace himself for the next attack.
The gladiator slowly stood up, looking slightly miffed. "I'm only doing this because you asked. You said you wanted to practice, yes?"
Martyr smirked, "I'm going to need all of the practice I can get, I plan on taking on a Gorgon today, after all."
The gladiator's eyes widened in shock, appearing visibly struck by Martyr's words, "The Gorgon!? Why in Tartarus would you ever want to hunt something like that down? On your own no less?"
Divine Martyr stretched, setting his weapons down, "Worry not comrade, I have advantages of my own that will surely trivialize the fight."
Martyr hummed to himself as he glanced at each gift that had been bestowed upon him by a power greater than he:
A adamantine harpe crafted with some kind of unrecognizable metal by his blood father, the one reason he possessed such incredible strength, intuition and resolve. He was the son of a true lord, a god of lightning and the sky itself.
A helm which dutifully covered his ears but left his muzzle untouched, allowing a fair amount of breathing room while at the same time offering a decent amount of protection. This gift, given by the god of the underworld, had stated that it would allow Martyr to disappear from reality at will. Martyr hadn't been able to test this ability yet, but he was certain that it would hold up to his expectations of it, lest the god himself decided to betray him.
A shield with a reflective surface, coupled with a heavy layer of both bronze and leather. A "mirror", he recalled the word that the goddess of wisdom used to describe it. This gift would be particularly useful, Martyr reckoned. If his theory was correct, he could use this shield to reflect Medusa's gaze back at her, allowing him to turn her to stone in turn. An ironic death, certainly. However, in the event that she didn't turn to stone, he could at least use said reflection to know of her location.
Finally, winged sandals were given to him in order to reach the Gorgon's cave in a reasonable amount of time, allowing him to traverse the continent in a matter of minutes. Martyr could most easily compare it to having wings on his back, though he dismissed the silly notion, for he couldn't imagine a pony with wings. Traversing the sky was a gift from the gods, it was not met for mere commoners, even he was humbled by the gifts granted to him for his valor.
If he still felt the need to travel via walking, he packed a saddle-bag with enough supplies to last him a full week, as well as a blindfold in case the fight went awry, though he doubted that he'd need to resort to such measures.
With a satisfied sigh, he took to the skies, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.
Divine Martyr enjoyed the feeling of wind running through his coat and mane. His sandals steered him towards his destination as he traversed thousands of miles effortlessly. As much as he enjoyed flying through the sky, he was still very weary. He had heard tales of a pony who had flown too close to the sun before, their wax wings melting as they fell victim to the tides below, though Martyr knew that the pony of that particular tale was as ignorant as they came.
Martyr had not chosen the path to glory, not initially anyways. He grew up in a world where everything fought back. The strong lived and the weak died, and that was how life was. However, Martyr felt like it didn't need to be this way, if he could slay every monster that threatened the lives of the ponies he held close, then maybe they wouldn't have to be strong. He could be strong for them.
That was why he was doing this, after all, this wasn't for the gods, this was for his ponies. If he could kill the Gorgon, then the ponies would know they had nothing to fear so long as he was there to help them.
Several minutes had passed before he had finally reached the cave that supposedly housed the infamous Medusa. Martyr cringed at the name, knowing that the creature itself was as conniving as it was deadly.
Martyr would spend at least an hour outside of the cave, preparing for the fight ahead. Martyr could not sharpen his sword any further, for the simple honing stones used by his tribe would do nothing to his blade, and the extra supplies and tools that he had brought would most likely not help him past this point. He did his best to scout the interior of the cavern from where he stood, but seeing as the light barely shown through the entrance, there was hardly anything he could do beforehoof. If the Gorgon had set traps for unsuspecting ponies inside, they were likely closer to her lair, and he would have to stay on guard whilst searching for her.
He was not afraid, fear was an emotion that resided with the mortals and the mortals alone, but he did fear for his ponies, what may happen to them if he was suddenly gone, if he became another prize down in that wretched abyss. He could only shudder at the possible thought. Almost immediately, his resolve fastened back into place, and an ineffable focus washed over him.
Drawing in a steady breath, Divine Martyr set his satchel down and made his way inside the cave.
It appeared as if his eyes would be of little use to him after all, as the light quickly faded away as he delved deeper into the seemingly endless cavern. Moss and green algae sought refuge in cave crevices as small, muddy pockets of water soaked through Martyr's sandals. He figured that he'd have to take them off eventually, assuming that the fight would be drawn out long enough to where Martyr would have to retreat. He wouldn't want to wear water-logged sandals into a fight against a beast of urban legend.
That was assuming, of course, that he would ever find the wretched beast in the first place. Martyr was built to endure long journeys, as his physique had become chiseled to near perfection. His tan hide complimented his golden-brown mane and tail, with sapphire-blue eyes alluring enough to woo any mare that he may have wanted for himself. Though his heart was reserved to somepony in particular, a maiden from the village who radiated beauty.
He continued to wade through the sludge of murky water, his vision only dimly illuminated by the glowing plants growing above his head, and the cracks in the cavern where the light had shown through. His vision was becoming accustomed to the dark too, but that didn't mean she couldn't be sneaking around the cavern, she knew the place better than he did, after all.
He grumbled to himself. Why couldn't the coward just rear its ugly head and face him like a stallion?
As if on cue, the ground shook beneath him as his eyes shifted towards a sleeping figure. A serpent that was curled in on itself, its face covered by its own tail, eliciting a small, rattling sound. It uncannily resembled a pony, though its skin was made of scales rather than fur and its mane comprised of literal snakes.
Martyr was lucky, he had encountered it in its sleeping form. If he could sneak up on it in its sleep, this would be over in seconds!
He only managed to take one step forward before the rattling from Medusa's tail had stopped. Martyr instinctively raised his shield in front of him, covering his eyes, though Medusa's head did not rise.
She spoke in a sickeningly-sweet saccharine voice, "And who might you be?"
If Martyr was any lesser of a stallion, he may have backed down upon hearing her voice, but Martyr was no ordinary stallion.
"Divine Martyr," he said past his shield, not daring to look up at her to see if she was staring at him.
A chuckle sounded from Medusa's equine muzzle, which had a hollow eeriness to it, "You are as brave as you are stupid. Many stallions and mares like yourself have dared to enter my cave, and none have made it out alive."
Martyr smirked, "How foolish of you to assume that I am like every other mare and stallion you have ever faced. Why don't you prove you are as deadly as you make yourself sound?"
She stopped laughing and Martyr could hear her sit upright, "How bold of you. I suppose if you have the gall to intrude my domain, then you must be looking for something in particular?"
He smiled, "Your head, wench."
He immediately heard a wretched hissing sound as the ground vibrated beneath him, "Poor choice of words, colt."
Martyr glanced at his shield and saw Medusa lunging at him at a frighteningly quick pace. The two of them clashed against each other, the snakes from Medusa's hair nipping at the edges of his shield, not quite being able to reach his forehooves.
In quick succession Martyr crossed his hooves with his head down and slashed horizontally as Medusa unleashed a volley of corrosive acid from her mouth, the two of them were simultaneously blinded as Martyr quickly flew up the cavern with his sandals, nearly hitting his head on the cavern ceiling.
"You bastard!" Medusa screamed as the blood from her eyes trickled down and landed on her neck, "Do you think I need to see you in order to kill you? I'll rip you apart with my Tartarus-damned fangs if I have to!"
Martyr's vision became too blurry for him to see clearly, he flew away from Medusa and splashed his face with the cold cave water before flying into the air again, but just as he was about to take off, a serpentine tail wrapped around his leg and yanked him back down into the ground, causing one of his sandals to fall off into the water.
"You're going to have to be faster than that, you little rat!" Medusa screeched as she slammed his body against the cavern floor with her tail, causing Martyr's body to crumble for several seconds before he slowly sat back up, blood dripping from his left hind leg.
Martyr knew his blow from earlier had connected, as he looked up and could barely see Medusa's blinded but enraged face in the darkness. There were no words that could be used to describe her, her face was horrifyingly beautiful, and he almost would have sympathized with her if she wasn't trying to kill him. She was the product of foul-invention, a damnable creation of Tartarus itself that took pleasure in murdering his kin. She was to be destroyed, her body left for the roaches.
Medusa's snakes hissed at him as she rushed toward him, he sliced through her hair as she sunk her razor sharp fangs into his left foreleg. They both yelled in pain as Martyr used the pommel of his blade to bash the top of Medusa's head, stunning her and allowing himself to gain distance from her.
He backed up and placed the blindfold across his eyes and threw the shield off of his leg, in the event that she was able to regain her eyesight, he no longer had the ability to use his shield. The entirety of his left foreleg was numbed-over, making it impossible to use it for anything other than limping around, the shield hit the adjacent cavern wall with a resounding clang.
He heard the rattling from her tail and started to gallop, knowing that he'd be significantly slower now that he was practically missing a leg.
Helm of Darkness, grant me entrance to the void, and hide me from this bloodthirsty beast.
He knew it had worked, as his hoof-steps had stopped making noise and Medusa was now desperately trying to find where he was in the dark.
He gritted his teeth. They were evenly matched so far, they had both lost their vision, he had lost his ability to block, and she had lost her extra arsenal of snakes. There was still one advantage he had over her though, for he could not be heard by her despite his heavy trudging through the water.
What happened next though, had surprised him.
"Why are you here?" Medusa asked in an almost sultry moan of pity, "I've done nothing to you, just leave! It is obvious that we are both evenly matched!"
He smirked, because he knew she was wrong. He knew where she was now. He slowly made his way to her side, and planned his final attack.
His invisibility dissipated as he lunged towards her using his remaining winged-sandal. Charging with his sword pointed forward, it found its mark in her neck, causing her to screech as she yanked the sword out of his grip and on to the cavern floor. Her tail wrapped around his neck as she menacingly whispered in his ear, "We're both going to die down here now, pony."
He blindly felt along the cavern floor, feeling himself quickly losing his breath as the Gorgon attempted to strangle him to death, before finding a sizable rock and bashing her across the head, causing her to lose her grip on him and allowing him to mount her.
He then took the rock and repeatedly smashed it against her skull, causing cries to ring out with each resounding blow, "I will not die in here with you cur!"
With the remaining adrenaline in his body, he gripped the sides of her head in frenzied fervor, and with a sickening sound, her head came clean off of her body. He gripped her head by the locks that were once snakes, swaying slightly as he attempted to keep his balance whilst holding the severed head, holding it with great care and making sure not to stare the beast in the eyes, in the event that it petrified him.
Martyr breathed heavily for several minutes, still fueled by adrenaline as he hopped off and limped away from Medusa's corpse, still carrying her severed head with him. He wasn't sure if the anesthesia that had spread across his left foreleg was laced with any kind of toxin, but he knew he'd need to fly back as soon as possible if he hoped to ever receive treatment.
He still felt woozy from how disoriented he'd become while fighting in the rather small alcove.However, he needed to gather his bearings, for he might have encountered the other Gorgon sisters if he wasn't careful.
He took the blindfold off and looked at the damage he had caused and winced, he had caused quite the mess. The blood dripped off of her body and coagulated into a solid shape, it was uncannily recognizable, it was the shape of a pony.
He shambled over and stood above the crimson red form, after several seconds, its color faded to a more comfortable hue. She was a winged earth pony, she had a silken black mane and tail with a light blue coat, and no glyph on her flank.
He was puzzled, surely such a creature existed only in legend? Then again, he would have never believed such a creature like Medusa could exist. She stirred for a few moments before looking up at him, her eyes a chocolate brown. "Wha- W-who are you?"
He swiftly tied the blindfold around Medusa's wounded eyes as a precaution and set the head down on the cavern floor before helping the winged earth pony. "My name is Divine Martyr," he said, grunting as she hoisted herself up, "What is your name?"
She closed her eyes before shaking her head, "I have no name. I only know that I am a pegasus, an offspring of the lord of the sky."
Martyr exhaled a deep sigh as the revelation had sunk in, "You are a demi-goddess as well then? A pegasus, I never would have believed it, you're real."
She smiled at him walking over to him and offering him a shoulder of support, "Of course I am real. I'd ought to thank you for allowing me to be reborn as the first of my kind."
Martyr chuckled as he limped over and gathered the rest of the equipment, "I suppose I will have to show you my village then, something tells me we will see more of your kind in the future."
When they finally exited the cave, the sun seemed so much brighter and warmer than he had remembered. Maybe it was just the fact that he'd been blindfolded in a cave, or maybe the gods were smiling upon him this day.
