May 12, 234 B.C
Ethiopia

"It isn't said how long these statues have stood to the testament of time," The young woman said, gesturing to the statues present in the royal gardens. "However, many citizens have claimed them to be the eyes of their kings and queens of old, like that of their beloved Queen Andromeda."

The young woman proceeded to show and explain the rest of the royal gardens to the citizens that had been brought within the palace grounds. After the tour had ended, she stood propped against one of the statues that sat at the edge of the garden.

The spring sun shone down on her in a mix of cool and hot air, while the midday breeze flowed over her sun scorched skin.

Holding back a smile, she turned around to head back into the comforting arms of the palace when a splash of color caught her eye.

A child stood not too far off in the gardens, her blonde curls flying as she looked up at the statue that many commonly flocked to when on the tour. It didn't surprise the woman that the child was drawn to this one in particular, however she did wonder why the child was still there when everyone else had already left.

Not thinking much of it, the young woman made her way over to the child and crouched down on her knees.

"Hello there, young one," she whispered, hoping not to scare the child away. "Are you here with your parents? Or are you lost?"

The girl looked up to her and gave her a smile before looking back at the statue.

"No, Miss. My parents aren't here, I just wanted to see the garden statues."

"Well, you've found a real gem here if I do say so myself." Her eyes drifted from the top of the girl's head to the tips of her toes. "Would you like to know more about the statue?"

The little girl looked up, excitement lighting the darkness in her gaze. "Would you? I would enjoy that a lot."

Chuckling, the woman ruffled the girl's blonde hair. "Of course, but I need to know your name first."

Twisting her worn out sandal into the green grass, the child whispered, "It's Palmyra."

"That's a beautiful name. Mine is Andaya. But everyone calls me Andie."

Palmyra smiled back at her before sitting down and staring at the white marble intently while Andie sat down beside her.

"Well, I'm sure that many stories you have heard have started with once upon a time," she admonished, "but this one began centuries ago without a whisper of the sentence beneath the same midday sun we sit under now."

Palmyra's gray speckled eyes widened. "Really? The same one?!"

"The very same," Andie confirmed, studying the statue with undaunted focus. "However, what really happened that afternoon has yet to be discovered, as no one truly knows what did. Many say that these statues appeared in the gardens mere hours after the incident."

Palmyra sucked in a quick breath before looking back to the statue, its stoic expression drilling into her soul. "The incident?"

Andie nodded, her eyes holding a strange look as white, fluffy clouds filtered softly across the blue expanses. "The disappearance of Queen Andromeda."

"What happened?"

The innocent question caught Andie off guard, drawing her slowly from her reverie, causing another smile to come across her face.

Looking down at the child again, she pointed to another statue that stood not too far away from either of them.

"Do you notice anything different about this statue," she asked, "when compared to that statue?"

Palmyra's brows furrowed together in thought as her head darted back and forth between the two, trying to gauge any difference they had with one another.

Shaking her head, Palmyra looked back up to Andie. "No I don't, Miss. Should there be a difference?"

"No," Andie reassured her. "In fact, there aren't any. They are both the same."

"The same statue?"

Folding her hands together, Andie refrained from frowning as she drew closer to the statue. "Yes, all are nearly perfect copies of each other. The only thing many fail to notice are the tiny details that don't match up."

"How is that possible if they were made by the same crafter?" Palmyra asked curiously, hopping off the bench to follow the guide's suit.

"That's a very good question," Andie thought aloud, "and it will be answered soon. But as I was saying, on a day such as this nearly five centuries ago, her Majesty and the King were outside in the gardens when something happened."

Grabbing ahold of Andie's hand, Palmyra bounced up and down on the heels of her feet energetically. "Oh, please tell me, what happened?!"

With a crooked smile, Andie nudged her head in the direction of the statue, a sense of longing seeping into her eyes. "In order to do that, dear one, I must tell you of what happened before it all fell apart."

Palmyra frowned. "What fell apart."

"The Queen's betrothal," Andie whispered, sitting down on the bench and running her fingers though her auburn locks. "That was the day everything fell into despair and it all began with a single petal."

Palmyra's brows folded together as she stared up at Andie. "Like a flower petal?"

"Exactly. A single petal from the sweetest of flowers the King's gardens had to offer... said to be so sweet that they contained the nectar of the gods themselves."

"That sounds farfetched don't you think?" Palmyra asked suspiciously. "Why would the gods allow that to be within the hands of us mortals?"

A crooked smile grew across Andie's face as she took Palmyra's hand in hers, cupping it lightly as she felt the eyes of all the statues fall onto her.

"Because it was the perfect disguise."

                                ~*~*~*~*~

Five centuries previous

Looking out across the vast landscape of his gardens as the birds chirped, King Perseus stared in awe at the decadent colors of green that were just beginning to bloom.

He could think of no better time of year than this, a time in which his people could give thanks to the gods for another year of prosperous living and an occasion in which they could witness the beauty that nature had to offer.

Walking out from under the overhang, he found himself walking across the gardens, not thinking about the many responsibilities that plagued him within the stone walls of his home.

The cool, spring breeze washed across his face, refreshing him in ways that he thought impossible even as they unfolded before him.

"Give power to the weak and meekness to the strong," he murmured, running his fingers over a handful of tulips; the quote being one that he had heard from the lips of his father many times.

Perseus smiled at the thought of his father as he had once been, healthy, high spirited and a man of virtue that cared nothing more than for the future of his son and his kingdom.

But he was breathing then.

Now he was buried six feet under the large oak tree that sat nestled in the eastern wing of the gardens, a remembrance of himself and a promise that Perseus had made him while he had lain ill on his death bed.

He could still hear the raspy breaths of his father as they wheezed in and out of his chest; the task of breathing proving difficult for the previous king to accomplish.

His hair had grown thin while his cheeks appeared to have sunken into his face and drained of their once rosy tinges.

The maids had bustled about him in hopes to aid him and make him as comfortable as he could be in his final hours, as the doctor had already arrived and given the news that his father wouldn't last the night.

Rain had pummeled against the stain glassed windows as the wind roared, throwing itself into the castle as if it were trying to break into the room.

Perseus had sat in vigil at his father's side, rubbing his thumb gently over the man's soft skin as he wondered how he could possibly live without his father at his side.

Rubbing the blurriness from his vision, he had looked up to find his father staring at him, his forest green eyes looking sharper than they had in years.

"Father, you aren't well. You need to rest so that you can get better sooner."

"Perseus," the king chided, inhaling carefully, "you know that I don't have much longer. I am lucky to have these last few moments with you."

Leaning forward to grab a soaked washcloth, Perseus smoothed it over his father's brow. "Don't speak of such things, Father. We have all the time in the world."

His father chuckled, coughing afterwards as he leaned heavily into the pillow, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "I only have till the light of dawn, Perseus. I have seen Thanatos, he has allowed me this time to place my final wishes in order."

"The god of death? Father, I think you are simply seeing things--" Perseus started.

"Do not blind yourself to my passing, Perseus. It will only pain you more to see me go." The king broke in, patting the top of his son's hand reassuringly. "Now, I must tell you something, I have little time left."

Perseus set the washcloth down before covering his mouth with his hand, trying to cease its trembling as his father looked at him with pitiful eyes.

"I won't let you go," Perseus mumbled, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I can't."

"You must," The king commanded sternly. "Now, if I am to die, my dying wish would be that my son lived a long and prosperous life and was able to see his kingdom into a time of peace. Will you allow a poor man to request one last thing, my son?"

Clutching at his father's hands, Perseus pressed his forehead to the crisp sheets of the bed. "Anything, Father. If you ask, I shall do."

The king nodded, still maintaining his air of seniority as he lay in the palms of death. He raised his right hand up from Perseus' hand and slipped off his golden ring.

"This ring is the crest of our family line as I am sure you already know. My father passed it on to me as a young man as his father passed it on to him, and now I pass it on to you, Perseus, as I know that you will do what you feel is best for this kingdom."

Placing the ring on his son's finger, the king smiled and looked past Perseus' shoulder quickly before he took him by the shoulders readily.

"The only thing that I ask of you, Perseus, is that you marry Princess Halina of Pieria and seal the alliance that has long been wary between our two kingdoms. Will you do that for me, son?"

Perseus' breath was pushed from his lungs at his father's words, and he nearly spat out his denial when he saw the look of pain and anguish that lay in his father's jaded gaze.

Forgive me, Andromeda, he thought woefully as he kissed the top of his father's hand and looked him dead in the eyes. "I swear to you that I will, Father. I will not allow our kingdom to fall."

"Thank you, Perseus," he breathed, a genuine smile falling across his face as he looked past his son again. "My time is coming and I don't have much left that I can describe within these fading moments. But Perseus, be strong and hold tight to your will, it's what will carry you on."

"But Father--"

"I love you, Perseus," he uttered weakly. "Think of me as I was, and know that I am leaving gladly to see your mother again in the fields of Elysium."

"Father, no!"

But just as the words slipped past his lips, he watched as his father's chest hitched and stopped moving, the light from his eyes fading until there was nothing left in him but the cold claws of death.

Tears fell mercilessly down his face as he sobbed over his father's body, trying to gain a hold of himself, yet failing miserably as the tulip on the side table wilted into nothing.

The maids gathered around him as he pulled the blankets up and over his father's face, refusing to look at the man who had raised him so lovingly only to be taken away from him sooner than he should have been, just as his mother had.

Wiping the wetness away from his face, he realized that he wasn't only mourning the loss of the father he had been given, but the life he would never be able to have with Andromeda.

                               ~*~*~*~*~

And as he thought back on that day, which had only been months before, he could still remember the heartbreak and fury that had spread across Andromeda's beautiful face when he had told her he was betrothed to another.

He had sat in the very same gardens with her at his side, her long auburn locks twisted into a knot on the top of her head as she had picked flowers from the gardens to give to the children that flocked outside the palace gates.

"How could you?!" she had shrieked, wrenching her arm away from his grasp only to turn back around and slap him across the face. "I trusted you! You saved me from the stony clutches of my curse and I trusted you. Yet you betray me just as my wicked mother did!"

"Andromeda, no--"

"It was all a lie wasn't it?!" she mewled, pathetic tears rolling down her cheeks as she struck his chest. "You did this to spite me. Telling me you loved me, telling me that you would give me the sun, moon and stars from Athena and Apollo themselves, but it was a lie!"

Perseus felt his heart shattering, wooden splinters piercing his chest as he struggled to speak past her accusations.

He grabbed a hold of her hand and kissed the top of it. "Andromeda, I'm begging you, please listen to me. My father asked that I do this and I must for I am a man of my word."

"What good is your word if you've already broken it, Perseus?"

Her small words caught him off guard, a spark of tears pooling in his eyes. "You can't use that against me so soon, not after my father's death."

"Can I not?" she whispered harshly, moving away from him. "Because I believe I just did."

Not looking back, Andromeda ran from his sight, disappearing into the tulips she had so loved as Perseus' mother had as well.

Perseus closed his eyes and pinched his brow, falling to his knees while trying to think of anything that would bring her back.

"Andromeda!" he screamed, forgetting his thoughts and bolting, racing towards the tulips in hopes that he could catch her.

Rounding the corner, he yelled. "Andromeda!"

He received no response. The gardens were abandoned save for himself and the whisper of the winds as they blew over the flowers with inexplicable grace, much like that of who he had hoped to be his future queen.

Never had he felt so crushed, so deprived of the one woman who he treasured more than the air that he breathed. The reason he woke up every morning and dealt with utter nonsense in his kingdom just to see that glorious smile so filled with love and joy.

A growl rose in his throat as he bent down and saw a path of scattered petals, their flowers trampled and beaten into the ground much like he believed his dear Andromeda must be right now.

"A fool that I am to let one such as her go," he spat, turning away from where she had ran and returning slowly to the courtyard of the palace.

He hadn't forgotten her, nor would he ever, but the months had dwindled on and spring had turned to a cruel and bitter winter. The frost had allowed its ice to leave a claw so deep in the gardens that it not only effected his mother's beloved tulips, but his heart as well.

So dark was the loathing that settled itself within his heart that he made it his duty to marry Halina before the year came to be upon them.

It had been months since Perseus dared look for Andromeda, and he had found more pleasure and care in pursuing Halina, as it was now his duty to marry her and become her husband.

During those months, Perseus stumbled upon a strange peculiarity that had been brought to him by the royal council. A band of misfits had been raiding the town of all its gold and treasure in the dark of night, never once revealing themselves save for their number.

The number twelve was branded on every store or home that they pillaged, earning them the highest mark on the king's most wanted list where only the worst of villains was placed.

He hadn't thought much of their animalistic methods until they managed to hold an appearance with him a few weeks before Halina was scheduled to arrive in his kingdom.

Bustling about the Great Hall, the king had been directing servants in what ways the room should be rearranged when the doors opened with a loud bang, startling one of the footmen enough to fall from one of the stepping stools.

"Nasir, I thought I told you to leave all citizens at the gates until I was ready to address them, I can't simply have--"

"I assure you, your Majesty, I am not a citizen nor am I your butler. Do not treat me as such lest my men have you drawn and quartered."

Perseus' brows shot up as he raised his gaze to find a hooded figure standing before the throne, its frame tall yet firm, suggesting one of a royal mindset.

Behind the figure stood eleven others, all of them the same height, frame structure, and from the way it appeared, nearly all symmetrical with each other.

Stepping towards his seat, he looked to the leader of the group. "I presume that you are the twelve vigilantes that have been robbing my kingdom in the dead of night?"

"I wouldn't call us vigilantes, your Majesty."

"Then what would you call yourself?"

"Your saving grace," they all proclaimed at once.

Perseus shook his head before laughing. "How is it that I am to trust a group of men, that I have never once met before in my life, with the safety of my kingdom?"

The figure shrugged. "You just will, now if you'll excuse us, we have business to take care of as your huntsmen."

"My what?"

One of the eleven stepped forward and said in the same voice, "We will not repeat ourselves. Good day, your Majesty.

And with that, Perseus never saw hair nor hide of the twelve unless he called upon them for matters best not discussed with those outside the royal family.

However, as Perseus thought back on all these things, the good and the bad, he came upon a most peculiar sight at his feet in the gardens.

A purple petal sat tucked away at his feet, one that reminded him so much of the wife he could of had, while the one he had to have was coming to be in his presence that very day.

The thought depressed him and just as he came to the entrance of the gardens, he encountered  his twelve huntsmen. Not a twig snapped as they looked into the eyes of their king.

"Huntsman, what is the meaning of this?" Perseus questioned, inhaling quickly as the figure at the head of the group stared him down.

"Do not call me such a thing, Perseus," the voice whimpered, a hint of sorrow seeping into its words.

Perseus blinked before marching forward and yanking down the material that had protected the identity of his most trusted assassin for nearly six months.

Familiar auburn hair and broken hearted eyes stared into his soul, unmasking him for the man he was.

Leaning forward, he choked out, "Andromeda?"

"Tis I," she assured him, pulling her cloak close to her body. "I have come to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? Why goodbye?"

"Because that is all I will be able to give you without giving away my heart."

Perseus cringed and took her hand. "Andromeda, you can't be serious. Please stay, I will be rid of Halina and you shall be my Queen."

Teary eyes looked at him with hope and shattered dreams in their midst, his eyes finally seeing the woman he had broken.

"How long I have wished to hear those words, my love, but I cannot. I have been called for a greater purpose, as have my sisters, and I must say farewell to you. Make a better life for Halina than you would have for me. Be faithful and do not stray from that path."

"But Andromeda--"

She held up her hand. "Do this for me, Perseus, and I promise that I will never leave your side again."

Holding back a shout, he uttered. "I promise."

A gentle smile spread across her face as she looked behind herself. "Then our work is done. Be the king that you were meant to be, Perseus, and remember you are always protected by your loyal huntsmen."

"Andromeda!" he cried out, reaching for her hand, if just to have one last touch of her skin.

But he was too late, for as he reached out to her, she released a small petal that had been clenched in her fist. It fell gracefully before landing on the ground, sending shock waves around Perseus and into the twelve identical maidens.

A flash of light blinded him along with the tremors still raking the ground. As soon as it faded and he opened his eyes, what he saw astonished him.

The women that had stood before him were now gone and in their places were twelve statues, all surrounding the garden like loyal sentinels at their posts.

All looked the same, not a difference between them, yet Perseus could spot Andromeda's face anywhere. She had placed herself at the head of the garden, as if she knew he would always be there in search of her.

"As I always will be."

Trailing a lone finger down her cheek, Perseus smiled sadly and kissed her lovingly. "My beautiful maiden. My Queen Andromeda."

                              ~*~*~*~*~

"And it is said she's watched over Perseus, as well as his kingdom and its people, ever since."

Palmyra's eyes sparkled as she jumped from her bench and hugged Andie close. "That is such a sweet story. Do you really think she still looks after us?"

Andie looked up at the statue mischievously. "Yes, I believe she does, Palmyra."

The young child smiled before turning to the sound of a woman's voice calling her name.

"I have to go now, Miss, but thank you again. I will never forget this story."

"I'm sure you won't, Palmyra, now move along."

Palmyra giggled before running off towards her mother, leaving the gardens behind as Andie smirked and looked up at the statue.

"Not awful for five hundred years I must say, although I've looked better."

She wiped a bit of dust off the statue before looking up to the castle where she swore she could have seen a tall, handsome shadow dart from the king's chambers.

Looking out across the gardens with a smile, she rubbed a smooth tulip petal between her fingers, breathing in the sweet and intoxicating smell that was her eternal spring.

"Nothing is ever as it seems."

She dropped the petal and just as its purple surface touched the ground, her form disappeared; not into thin air, but into the form of dozens of flower petals. They floated gracefully to the ground, leaving nothing more than the spirits of the twelve huntsmen to guard their king and queen forevermore.

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