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Nov 4, 2025

Young Perseus Prologue Rough Draft

This is just the rough draft for my prologue of Perseus's book for my retelling of Perseus's myth series, and I wanted to share it. By the way, if you have any comments, complaints, or criticisms, I'd love to hear, but please sit back and enjoy. Some trigger warnings of PTSD reactions and a mention of slavery.

Prologue

On the shores of the small islands of Serifos lived a fisherman, Old Dictys, and his wife, Clymene. They were poor and elderly, but honest and good, who loved each other despite the pains of their past. You see, Dictys was not always a fisherman; many years before, he had been a prince and the next in line for the throne.

That was until his brother, Polydectes, came along. He had been much younger than he was and born to his father’s favorite mistress, who he knew was beautiful enough to be a naiad, while he was born to his father’s hated queen. Some even said that the great sea god was his father, rather than Old King Magnes, which only added to his father’s hatred and favoritism, which only worsened as the years passed, as Polydectes became handsome, athletic, and young enough to father many children while Dictys remained studious, silent, meek, and childless.

Dictys supposed that’s why he didn’t put up a fight when his brother, ever more popular and beloved than he, declared their father’s last wish was that he become Serifos’s new king. What hope was there of fighting against him after all? Their father loved Polydectes, the people loved Polydectes, and despite everything, he loved his brother too. It was only fitting that his brother, proud and strong, should become king, and so once the celebrations were over, he left. There was no place for him after all. He was the awkward, foolish prince who never stood up for his rights, so what right did he have to remain at court? He even tried to leave his dear Clymene so she might find a man worthy of her, but she refused, bless her. ‘Where you are, is where I shall be,’ she had said that night in the palace gardens, and she has remained by his side ever since. Still, a part of Old Dictys wished she had left him that night. She had been a lady of noble birth when they had met, and while a proper match for a prince, a lady shouldn’t be forced to endure the life of a fisherman’s wife. He sometimes sees the sadness in her dark eyes whenever she stares at the grand palace at the top of the mountain, or when her hands play with a nonexistent necklace at her throat.

If there was one regret Dictys had, it was that his poor position could never give his sweet wife the life she deserved. Perhaps that is why Old Dictys found himself in his fishing boat late into the dark evening with Selene, full and high above. The calm and clear day had turned to a bitter and frozen night, but even then, he hadn’t stopped. Instead, he just pulled his cloak closer and continued to wait for the sea gods to grant his net a fine haul that could let him and his wife have a month of full bellies and perhaps a fine robe for his wife like the ones of her girlhood, rather than the sorry rag that currently clung to her form.

However, tonight was not that night.

Not a fish, not a mussel, not a thing found itself ensnared in his net. Perhaps stormy Poseidon did not take to his meager offerings. He knew he should’ve done something more. He had sighed, then was ready to pull up his net and tell his sweet wife the sad news when it happened.

A harsh tug on his net. Then two, then three, before the loose fiber of his faithful net began to tear from the insistent pulling as his pathetic dinghy began to shake and creak from the sudden waves.

Dictys gasped as he ran over to grab the net before it could break off fully. Perhaps the gods have been good to him today, he hopefully thought as he pulled and pulled with all the might his old bones could muster. Breathing harshly and feeling his muscles strain, the elderly man wondered what could possibly have been caught in his net? It couldn’t be a large hull, he thought. He had done that before, but this was nothing like that. Instead, the drag was solid but dead, more like a blocky weight than the normal frantic thrashing of a large catch. For a moment, Old Dictys thought that this might be a gift from the gods, perhaps a trunk of gold and jewels. Now wouldn’t that be something? If that was it, he could give his sweet wife the life she deserved rather than one toiling in a cave, working herself to the bone.

With such a sweet thought in mind, Dictys took one last deep breath, bracing himself for one last great pull, and his net and whatever had been caught in it now sat within his small fisher’s boat.

Taking a moment to catch himself, and stared at the strange object, which he had found to be a trunk. It was wooden, but large and probably ornate at one point, but seemingly lost much of its former splendor to the salt and the sea, with its surface covered in rot and barnacles, and holes permeating its every side. So, probably not the great treasure he had quietly hoped for, and he probably wouldn’t be able to sell it either, given its damage. Though perhaps Clymene might find some use for it? And perhaps its true value wasn’t from the outside. Inching closer with his fisher’s spear, he forced the weapon under the lid and jimmied it open to the best of his ability. It took a few tries, admittedly, but eventually he heard a low creak from the lid. This filled the old man with hope, and with one great push of the spear, the trunk was open!

Looking in, his eyes widened. Inside was not jewels or gold or fish or anything at all. No. The thing he saw was not a thing at all, but someone. A young woman, to be precise, was lying on her side with one arm under her head and another across a small bundle. She was small, practically skin and bones, and far too pale, with her hair a mess of auburn knots and her modesty covered by nothing more than drenched rags. Judging by the amount of water seeping through and lying at the bottom, she must’ve been in there quite a while. At least a few days. Dictys found himself overwhelmed by questions. Who was this girl? How long had she been in this trunk? Who put her here? Was she even still alive? No, that last one was silly. There was no way this girl survived in a hole-filled trunk. Right?

Dictys looked back at the poor thing with pity in his eyes. Whatever happened must’ve been a horrific ordeal. The least she deserves is a proper burial, he thought. Sighing to himself, Dictys went to pull the girl from the trunk, but no sooner had the tips of his fingers grazed her ashen-colored skin than he felt the girl flinch before her eyes shot open. The old man was in complete shock as he stared at the frightened creature who clung to the bundle in her arms, trying to make herself small against the trunk’s wall. Staring at the girl, he couldn’t believe this girl was alive. But how? No one could have survived what she must’ve been through. Unless…unless a god protected her…He supposed that was possible.

Looking back at the shivering child with fear and tiredness prominent in now-seen green eyes that looked far too haggard and red for someone so young, he sighed. Whether it was the gods or his conscience, he knew he couldn’t cast out this girl. She seemed terrified of him, though…He supposed he couldn’t blame her for that.

“Hello there, my child. Might I ask your name?” he said with a soft smile stretching across his wrinkled face. The girl didn’t reply and instead gave him a weary glare, weakly trying to warn him against coming closer. Dictys respected his wish and kept as much distance from her and the box as his dinghy would allow, though now that he thinks of it, that box did seem rather heavy…Well, they weren’t so pleased by that. Focus on the girl. “I am called Dictys of Serifos.” He noticed the girl tilted her head in confusion at this before a bit of wonderment when her eyes looked back toward the box. Perhaps she was coming around? Perhaps. Poor thing was probably starved, though.

Reaching for his rough linen bag that held his supplies, he noticed the girl’s breath hitch as she tightly pressed her back against the wooden wall of the box, watching him every moment like a wild deer watching a traveler. Seeing this, the old man very obviously grabbed his sack and dumped out all its contents. There were bits of rope, a waterskin of fresh spring water, a dried fish, some olives, and his knife. This last one made the girl jump in fear, and Dictys quickly worried that she might flee and capsize the small dinghy. Remaining calm and thinking quickly, the old man held up his knife to the girl, whose eyes went wide with fear as she quickly turned and shielded the bundle with her back to Dictys.

However, whatever the girl thought he’d do, Dictys did not. He was not the type of man to harm little girls. Taking his knife, he cut two pieces of his dried fish and audibly set his knife down behind him. This seemed to have caught the girl’s attention because, despite her back still being to him, Dictys noticed one of her green eyes peeking out towards him, still narrowed and cautious, but curious. “Forgive me. I’ve been fishing most of the day and well into the night with very little time to eat,” Dictys replied as he took a bite from one of the pieces. As the old fisherman went to take another bite, he noticed the girl’s eyes looking mournfully and desperately at the dry piece of meat. Smiling, Dictys grabbed the other fish piece and held it out to her. “Would you care to join me for a meal?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

The girl said nothing, but he had gotten used to that by now and instead just took another bite while watching her. She’d frozen when he offered the piece of meat to her, seemingly unsure how to take his act of kindness. He saw her eyes, heavy with distrust and suspicion, flick toward him and then the meat to the small bundle she had cradled to her before a loud grumble broke through. It must’ve been the girl’s stomach. How long had she gone without eating?

He didn’t ask, though. Instead, he maintained his warm smile and extended hand. He didn’t know what this girl had been through, and maybe he wouldn’t, but he could at least help her now.

The girl shifted away, refusing to meet his eyes. Then again, she might not let him. Just as he was about to sigh and pull away, he felt something graze his hand, and it suddenly felt quite empty, along with the distinctive sound of smacking and desperate chewing before quickly ending. Dictys looked up at the girl, who had bits of dried fish along the rim of her lips and a bit of sadness over so quickly finishing her small meal. Chuckling to himself, the old man reached for the rest of the meat and the olives his wife had packed before subtly placing them in front of the girl.

Deciding to give her some privacy, the old man turned away from the box and instead stared at the great and mighty dark sea. In those moments, the only sounds were the wind and the gentle waves swaying the small dinghy back and forth, and the child’s desperate bites and chews. He took a deep breath of the salty sea air, just as the eating noises ended, but he didn’t turn around. Dictys could feel the girl’s eyes heavy on his back, and he didn’t want to frighten the child with any sudden movements. Instead, his eyes remained transfixed upon the ocean, but he continued to speak, “If you’re still hungry, my wife and I would be happy to have you for dinner, and maybe we could figure out what you want to do next?”

There was no reply, so Dictys peeked over to see her expression. It was timid, and he could tell she still didn’t fully trust him, but she at least seemed to consider it. This was enough for Old Dictys, who grabbed his oars, turned to face her, and began rowing the two to shore.

The entire journey was admittedly awkward, but Dictys did his best to ease the tension between him and the guarded girl. As he rowed, he would speak, pointing out stars and constellations he had learned during his time in the palace and his time at sea. He told of his lovely wife and how they had met on a feast day many years ago and how beautiful she had looked that night, and elegantly she had spoken when his tongue had been a mess of words and mumbles. Dictys spoke of his love for crashing waves on the shoreline or ancient stories from old scrolls, things he had found comfort in all his life. He didn’t speak of his past as a prince, though, for he didn’t want to intimidate the girl.

For her part, she had merely listened and watched the old man as he spoke his ramblings. He had watched her. Her eyes had brightened with curiosity and intelligence when Dictys spoke star and scroll stories, but when he mentioned Clymene, her eyes became downcast and her hands shifted around the heavy bundle. Maybe the reason she was in the box had to do with a mother or a female guardian?

As Dictys wondered about this, the two finally landed on the shores of Serifos, which prevented him from pondering further. “Well, we’re here. Do you need some help or…” He saw the girl stumbling to her feet before pulling and scrambled from the box and boat to the safety of the sandy shore. There she fell down and simply lay there, breathing heavily but not harshly, her limbs clearly trembling from just that little effort alone. She was not smiling, but to Dictys, she seemed happy to be free from the box and the sea. Dictys smiled at this before looking back at the box in front of him. He had wanted to bring it back to his wife, but it didn’t feel right anymore. He found a scared child in it, and it was filled with holes and set adrift. Knowing all this, he didn’t doubt that whoever or whatever put that girl in there meant for her to die, but why? Why like this? What could this child have done to deserve such a fate? If they meant for her to die, why do all this? Why not slit her throat? Wouldn't that be a quicker and easier way than putting her in that box and letting the sea god have her?

Dictys sighed. That didn’t matter right now, not when…He looked back at the thin and shivering girl on the shore. “Now that you’re safe,” Dictys began, but he could see the girl visibly wince at that word. Dictys took a deep breath and sighed. “Now that you’re here,” he tried again, this time slower. “You could still come with me to my home, or I could take you to my brother,” Dictys said, crouching down. “He may be the king, but he’s never been one to turn down a woman in distress.” Well, he certainly would never refuse a woman, Dictys glumly thought as his mind trailed to the many times he caught his brother abed with the palace’s many pleasure slaves. Perhaps taking her there would be a poor decision. Then again, his brother would be far more equipped to care for her than he at this stage of his life, and they were still brothers, and he could claim her as his ward? Surely that would deter his brother from his usual advances. Either way, he’d probably have to present her to him eventually, given his status as king. However, before he could get further lost in his thoughts, he saw the girl’s dull green eyes widen before fiercely shaking her head of tangled auburn. “You don’t want to go to my brother?” Dictys asked to confirm, and the girl glared at him. Okay. No, to that idea then. “Would you like to come home with me? Or perhaps, I could leave you at the temple of Pallas Athena. I’m sure the priestesses there could help you,” Dictys said, but to this, the girl’s eyes only watered as she pressed her face into the bundle, still tightly gripped in her arms.

Dictys could only stare in that moment. Did he say something wrong? Or perhaps he was just being too hasty? He already knew that she had been through some sort of ordeal, but what was it? Could he really help her if she refused or didn’t answer him? He wanted to help her, but how? And if she didn’t, what then? Just leave? He supposed that was always a choice too…

He thought back to his first days when he fended for himself. Besides Clymene, he felt completely alone and stupid. Other things that came so easily for those born poor and common felt as strange and unknown as nymphs and satyrs, such as cleaning and fishing. He still remembers the day he first tried his hand at being a fisherman and was using the fine net his wife had woven together, only for him to lose it and his hull when he was shocked by a living fish that had tried to flee the net. While Clymene scolded him for that, she was also his comfort when he broke down into tears in his arms like a child, where he confessed how scared and pathetic he felt. Then his wife had just listened while running her now-calloused fingers across his balding head and merely understood before confessing that she, too, was having difficulties adjusting to a peasant life, but at least they’re together and that she knew the gods would eventually provide in their darkest time of need. She was his rock, his lady, and his strength. Frankly, if it weren’t for her, Dictys would not have had the strength to carry on in this life, and might’ve met the Unseen One the moment he lost his title.

He looked back at the girl. Clymene had been strong for both of them, so he must have a bit of her strength now. He inhaled deeply as he removed his cloak and set it down between them. “You must be cold. It’s not much, but it’s still something to keep the cold at bay,” he said with a shiver as he placed the fabric between the two of them. “And I meant what I said in the boat. If you’re scared of going to the k-to the palace or the temple, my wife and I would be happy to give you a warm meal and a cot to rest in until you figure something out.” He paused to gauge the child’s reaction to this, and he saw she was still apprehensive, but her ears seemed perked. “I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t even know your name, but I know it had to be terrible, and that’s why you don’t trust me. I understand, but I also know how it feels to be cast out,” his gaze had gone to the palace in that moment before he sighed. “To feel unwanted and like a burden, but I also had someone who was there for me. Who lifted me out when I felt lost and alone despite the hardships that came to her as well, and that’s what I want to do for you if you want me to.”

The girl said nothing to his words. She just stared at the cloak and then at Dictys, and he could see a million emotions running around the girl’s red-rimmed green eyes: suspicion, anxiety, sadness, fear, and, dare he say, hope were all there as she swayed and tightened her body. It seemed to Dictys that the girl was warring with herself, between whether to trust him or run away. She struggled and shook with her face convulsing and turning a vibrant red, before it became too much for her, and that’s when it happened.

She fell.

Specifically, she fell into his arms. She was cold and shaking the entire time as her emotions came out as a flood. Her hot tears mixed with the cold saltwater on his faded tunic as her loud sobs and wailing mixed with the crashing waves of the shore, still clinging to the old man as a young sailor to a piece of driftwood. At first, this sudden display from the girl shocked Dictys, and he could only stare. Did she finally trust him? Or did she just need someone? It didn’t matter, for soon enough he was cradling the girl against his chest.

Recalling his own breakdown all those years ago, he gently tried to soothe the girl by running his old hands down the length of the girl’s tangles while gently rocking her as she sobbed and hiccuped. He didn't speak, nor did he offer false reassurance, as he knew it'd be futile.

He wasn’t sure how long they were there, though it had to at least be minutes but frankly felt like hours, but as he held the girl he suddenly felt something squirm. A bug? No, this was too large he thought. Then what…

The girl suddenly pushed him away and to his schock began to mutter at the bundle. So she can speak. Well, that will at least make learning about her a bit easier. However, why is she talking to a bundle? What was that bundle anyways?

Clothes, maybe? A memento? No, wait that can’t be it. He thought back to the squirming he had felt, and then the suddeness of her movements and mutters. Could she be…? She is a bit young to be that…However, he has seen younger ones made. And she was in that box for seemingly no reason and if she had then perhaps that was why…

“My child, may I ask…Is that…? Dictys asked, trying to be as gentle as possible especially when he saw her jump and squeeze the bundle to her chest, her eyes flashing all around as though she was expecting thunder bringing Zeus to strike her down in that moment. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you...have you ever been with child before?”

The girl’s eyes widened in fear and Dictys put his hands up to show he means no harm. “I only want to ask, because you hold that bundle so tightly and…” Dictys sighed.

For a moment, the girl just stared at him. She didn’t seem as supscious this time, but her eyes definitely showed questioning and a bit of fear. Did he offend her by accident? Oh, dear. Did he just ruin any trust the two might’ve had?

However, before he could apologize, he heard the girl mutter something in the smallest of voices. “-us.”

“Pardon me dear, but what was that?”

To his shock, the girl spoke up before turning around fully and there in her arms was proof of his suspcious. Half-revealed from the coarse cloth that surrounded him was a baby with a head of wet and black curls and, his face bright red and scrunched from crying and while the rest of his body was wrinkled and the same sickly pale as his mother. He seemed older than a newborn, by how much Dictys didn’t know given he appeared to be quite small and frail though that wasn’t too shocking given the ordeal he and his mother had just been through.

“His name is Perseus,” the girl again muttered, her voice harsh and coarse from lack of use. “I-I…don’t know what to do,” she finished as more tears began to fall.

Dictys sighed as he started to put the pieces together. He’s heard of people doing away with unfaithful wives and disobedient child, so either the girl was married off and her husband no longer wanted her for whatever reason or she was found with child out of wedlock and her parents wanted to punish her for that, but because kinslaying was a crime the gods abhor, they did it in a way that wouldn’t directly tie them to her or the babe’s death.

Looking at the girl who gently tried to cradle her crying babe, he couldn’t help but pity the child’s sad situation. Alone, lost, and a mother to a very young child without a family to help. It wouldn’t be an easy existence that was for sure.

However, Dictys already made his decision.

Gently grabbing his cloak from off the beach, he rose to his feet and gently walked over to the girl. Placing his old cloak about her shoulders, he saw she quickly noticed this act and was on-guard once more. However, Dictys just smiled and once again held out his hand to her. “Well, you can figure that out tomorrow. For right now, you can stay here or come with me to my home.”

He saw she still seemed unsure but the area suddenly grew silent. The baby was no longer crying but now just silently reaching for his mother who stared down at him, unsure but full of affection. It was a lovely scene that, in better circumstance, he wished he could’ve seen with Clymene. As he thought on this he was suddenly surprised by a wrinkled and delicate hand placed in his. It was the girl who was stumbling to her feet and nearly fell as she tried to stand. He tried to help her, but she held up her other hand to signal him not to and he accepted that. She then looked at him and nodded.

Dictys sighed, and gently led mother and child to his home and silently prayed that Clymene will believe the tale he had to tell. Even he knew that his sensible wife might find it a bit outlandish, but it was the truth after all.

Looking back at mother and son, his gaze drifted toward the small boy who clung to his mother’s breast.

Perseus. Young Perseus.

#perseus #greek myth retellings #young perseus #danae #dictys

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