The gods may not have known hunger, but Chrysaor did. After Danaea left his cell, it did not take very long for the emptiness of his stomach to get the better of him, and Chrysaor seized the offered bowls, quickly relieving them of their contents. The food, though simple, was good, and the water clear and sweet. He knew he should thank the mother of Perseus for this small comfort when next he saw her. An interesting woman, showing such compassion for the man who had declared his intent to slay her offspring!
His belly full again, Chrysaor leaned back against the wall and considered praying to his father for guidance. Would Poseidon answer this time? The only one of the gods to have provided him any aid so far had been Selene, and he had never prayed to her! Thinking of the moon goddess, he looked up at the small window above him, but the golden light of Helius' ship still shone. As he looked, the light suddenly seemed to grow slightly brighter. He squinted, wondering if he imagined things, then shut his eyes and gasped as the sunlight flared to an almost painful brightness he felt may have blinded him had he not averted his gaze at that precise moment.
Cautiously opening his eyes, Chrysaor reeled as he saw that not only were the walls of his cell gone, but the entire palace of King Dictys had also vanished. In its place was a wide field of gently waving green grass and flowers of all hues, and it was in the midst of that which he now sat. A golden light that was not that of the sun filled the air above him. The scent of the air itself seemed to him like that of the purest, sweetest honey.
"Such is Elysium," a female voice said.
"Danae?" Chrysaor said, for some reason expecting - or hoping? - to see the mother of Perseus as he turned around. But it was not Danae he saw then, but another woman, smoulderingly beautiful, unknown to him, and yet achingly familiar.
Her feet made no sound against the softness of the grass as she approached him. Reaching out with her hand and touching his face, she said "You don't recognize me, do you? No, of course not. When I lived, I had not looked like this since before your birth. Chrysaor...I am your mother. In death, I am as I was before Athene's curse."
Looking into Medusa's eyes, and feeling tears brimming in his own, Chrysaor whispered "You were always beautiful to me, mother. I sought to avenge your murder,"
Medusa's expression was imploring as she told him "Look at me, my son. I am in Elysium; the horror of my cursed former existence is over. I thought i would go down to the darkness of Hades, but your father brought me here. Don't you see, Chrysaor, I want no revenge! Poseidon brought you to me so I could tell you, and set you free. So you may have a future."
A hand was laid on Chrysaor's shoulder, and a man's voice said "Will you honor your mother's wish?" Chrysaor looked behind him at the large man standing there, long hair and beard shimmering like the waves of the sea, a trident of corral grasped in his other hand. Chrysaor knew instantly who it was. "I'm afraid your time here is up," Poseidon continued. "Fare you well. son...for both of us."
Two armed guards stood at either side of Chrysaor as he stood in the main hall of King Dictys. They both eyed him warily, alert for the slightest hint of hostility, as did the king himself and all others present, particularly Perseus. Dicty's expression was thoughtful as he sat on his throne. Then he stood up and said "Chrysaor...You are hereby pardoned. But know you this: You must leave this island and never return. You will be provided safe passage to the mainland."
And later, as Chrysaor stood on the deck of the ship as it began its voyage away from Seriphus to the great city of Athens, he beheld the figure of Danae, cloaked and hooded, stood at the dock, her face warm with gratitude and compassion...and hope.