In the year 1780 DC, on a cold winter night in Fenton, an old watcher, Moses Helmswort, a freeman of the house of Gallaway Helmswort, peeked through his spyglass, almost freezing out on the ways overlooking the harbour, and saw a ship coming in, but something was strikingly familiar.

"Come on Nat, this isn't good for our children and you know it... let's... let's just take some days and consider this. Divorce isn't the way out."

"It isn't?"she shot back, fuming with so much rage that convulsed her entire body disheveling her curly blonde hair, tied behind in a lose bun.

"You cheated, peter... and to think you would say this after spitting on my face with your multiple lovers makes divorce even the least of what you deserve...men like you should rot in hell,"she ranted, and off she went, clinging onto a scarf, as her petticoat did little to shield her white pale skin from the bruising cold.

As peter went after her, too occupied with the thought of Natasha's inheritance, which had been their sole port of call since the birth of their son, he took little notice of the door he had left ajar.

"You get your hands of me, you dog of man, debased and of uncivilized cock..."

"Nat, come on...get over this and let's head home."

"I would rather sleep out here than spend one more night beside this body of yours, destitute of common sense... like, what do you take me for? You promised the last time that it wouldn't happen again and here we are, with you caught in the very act with multitudes by none other but our own son and our neighbours. Tell me, have you no shame? How much longer would you dishonour me..."

Natasha broke down, and watching her pale skin that was once full of life, having lost so much weight in the past five years that the only familiar feature of hers was the blooming flower petals falling in curls on her full round face, Peter grew remorseful, not like before, but in sincerity.

"I hope this ship has not sailed away,"he thought and sighed, stooping towards her as she sat on the sandy shore.

"I have wronged you, Natasha..."

His attempt to take her hands was quickly dismissed as she got kicked them away, got up and fled towards the only ship on dock that night.

" Natasha..."

" What has the stupid bull done this time?"thought Clifford, and got done from his carriage, having heard him calling out to his wife.

Hissing, Mrs Rosewood, turned away, unconcerned, and pulled her shawl closer over her dress.

" Go on ahead, and ensure they are safely tucked inside,"he said,got down, and waved the rider away, leaning onto his sword as he walked on.

"Women could be our own undoing,"he soliloquized.

"Peter!... Natasha!"

"What in the lord's name are your boys doing here? You should be home."

"Sorry papa, I caught sight of Billy coming down here and rushed out to help,"the older of the boys said, with his gaze fixed on his toes as the sudden sight of his father shot bouts of fright down his spine like the men his sword had pierced.

"What about you Oliver? Did you come out to help as well?"he quizzed, bending to the boys level, often turning around.

"No Papa,"the young boy who was about the same age as Billy said, tugging a strand of his short red hair,combed to cover him, and trimmed to the same length.

"I just wanted to tell her to let go of him."

"You wanted to tell who?"

"Her,"he said pointing at Clifford.

"Me?"

"No Papa... behind you."

Struck by the boys words, Clifford's hand felt the sword, and his ear twitched, waiting to catch a sound. Nothing came through and when he turned, he saw no one.

"Oliver...see, she's gone. Now you boys have to go home..."

"No... she's not,"the two boys said.

With his attention now divided between Billy and Oliver, Clifford was lost, speechless, with no will to refute their words. The hair at the back of his neck had raised earlier when he first met the boys there. He felt it was in response to cold, but turned repeatedly, feeling a stealth walk behind him.

"It's been like this Papa. He kept yelling at something invisible to let go of Billy's hand while I struggled to get him to return with us,"Benjamin explained, without looking up.

"Okay son, you can do that once more... you need to get home,"he said," and you need to warn her to leave your way, okay?"

"Okay."

"That's my boy. Ben, take the boys home to your mother... I need to get to their his parents."

Peter walked in to meet Natasha, struggling on the floor, but she couldn't speak, like someone closed her mouth, struggling to keep her down.

Dumbfounded, he watched on until Natasha struggled up and ran to him, pulling him away.

Bumping into Clifford who was equally startled, the woman took him by the hand and fled.

"Hey, what is going on here?"

Without a word to both parties, Moses took his slow strides to the ship and dropped on his knees, ultimately attracting the others, a pack of soldiers, the Count, and the heard of the shipping corporation, De Luna, and few bystanders.

"It can't be...,"they heard him say.

"Get him away from here,"the count ordered," and search the ship for travellers and the owners."

"You won't find any,"he said, trying to raise his left hand but it shook so bad that a soldier had to help him up.

"That there," he stuttered, and looking up, Clifford observed for the first time the image of the queen of serpents as a figurehead on the bow of the ship.

"Magnificent and articulate!"

"What's the matter Moses?"Clifford asked, and he whispered, terrified,"This is Medusa."

"I can tell," he replied, leading the frightened old man away, gently.

Struggling to speak, he looked back and a tear dropped," this ship drowned 70 years ago."