[Third Person's PoV]
Lucian had long since finished cleaning and washing the dishes. By now, he was merely giving Medea and Medusa their well-deserved privacy — a rare opportunity for them to reminisce and reconnect without interruption.
'This might actually take a while, won't it…' Lucian thought wearily, shaking his head with a soft sigh. 'Women.' He leaned back against the sink, folding his arms, resigning himself to a long wait.
After what felt like an eternity, Medea's voice finally broke through the quiet, sounding somewhat amused.
"Anyways, I think we've chatted enough for today, don't you agree?" she said lightly.
"What are you talking about? You're the one who did most of the talking," Medusa immediately shot back, her tone dry and teasing. "We both know you just love the sound of your own voice."
The comment was enough to spark yet another playful argument between the two, their voices bouncing off the stone walls as they bickered back and forth like two stubborn siblings.
Lucian let out a deep breath and facepalmed, rubbing his temples in mild exasperation.
"Be sure to come down here and visit me, alright?!" Medea called out loudly, her voice filled with a forceful cheer that made it clear she would not accept any form of refusal.
"What do you mean 'come and visit you'? That's no different than telling me to go and kill myself!" Medusa shouted back, her voice rising in indignation.
"As long as you understand my message," Medea responded sweetly, her tone as polite and sophisticated as ever, as if she hadn't just delivered a verbal blow.
"You should have been burned at the stake," Medusa cursed under her breath in ancient Greek.
In response, Medea simply began blowing exaggerated kisses through the crystal ball, giggling. "Love you too~ Now, let me say goodbye to Lucian. That boy doesn't even call me unless I call him first. Who knows how long it'll be before I hear from him again?"
Lucian finally re-entered the room, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
"The most I haven't called was three days. Relax," he muttered with a tired sigh.
"Three days too many," Medea pouted dramatically. "And now, you only ever call me when it's for lessons on magic, not to spend time with your dear, sweet Mommy."
Lucian chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. After some final, playful exchanges, Medea's image in the crystal ball began to fade, dissolving into a mist before the crystal itself began to shrink rapidly. Within moments, it had diminished to the size of a marble. Lucian extended his hand, and the small red orb zipped toward his ring, embedding itself seamlessly into the skull-shaped design.
He absentmindedly wiggled his fingers, watching the ring glint under the dim lighting. However, before he could get lost in thought, he felt a gentle hand reach out and ruffle his hair — hair that had grown long past his nape and now brushed against his shoulders.
"Thank you," Medusa said warmly, her voice filled with rare sincerity. She rested her chin lightly on her fist atop the table, smiling up at him with a softness that took him by complete surprise. "It's been over a decade since I last spoke with her. I'm truly grateful you gave me the chance to catch up with an old friend."
Lucian froze, staring at her. She looked different when she smiled like that — lighter, younger almost. Her teeth peeked out as she smiled, her head tilted charmingly to one side. For a moment, the world around him blurred, and all he could think was, 'I wouldn't mind seeing that smile every day...'
Realizing he was staring, Lucian shook his head hastily, clearing the thought from his mind.
"Don't worry about it," he said, scratching the back of his head. "It's something I should've done a long time ago. I shouldn't have kept putting it off."
Medusa chuckled softly, clearly amused by his awkwardness. "Regardless, I'm grateful," she said, her voice full of fondness.
Lucian shifted in place, uncomfortable under the genuine warmth of her gaze. Still, something weighed heavily on his mind — something he had been debating whether or not to bring up. Gathering his resolve, he cleared his throat.
"Speaking of putting things off…" he began hesitantly. "How would you feel if I said I could… get rid of the curse placed on you?"
The air between them shifted instantly.
Medusa's smile faltered, slowly fading into a colder, more guarded expression. Her eyes hardened, and for a moment, Lucian wondered if he had crossed a line he could never uncross.
"I would have been furious," she said slowly, voice dropping dangerously low, "if you were joking. I would have thought you were making light of something that ruined my life."
"Would have?" Lucian repeated cautiously, picking up on the deliberate choice of words.
Medusa nodded, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "However… while I may not have known you for very long, I know enough to say you aren't the type to make jokes about something like this."
She tilted her head slightly, studying him, her curiosity apparent. "So, why do you say you can remove my curse?"
"Because I can," Lucian answered simply, his voice steady with conviction. "I possess a special ability — though I never bothered to name it properly until now. Let's just call it [Curse-Eater] for now."
Medusa arched a brow, intrigued despite herself.
"You see, I specialize in dealing with curses," Lucian continued, crossing his arms. "And this ability of mine allows me to literally digest and absorb curses from others. To put it simply… I can eat away your curse."
"I see…" Medusa murmured, placing a thoughtful hand under her chin. Her emerald eyes flickered with cautious hope. "Let me ask you this then: would it harm you? Would taking on my curse hurt you in any way?"
Lucian smiled, sensing that despite her own desperate desire to be free, she was still more concerned for him than herself. It touched him more than he could say.
"On the contrary," he replied. "Digesting your curse would actually help me. When I absorb a curse, my own magical power grows stronger. Eating your curse would benefit me more than it would hurt me."
Medusa closed her eyes for a moment, "Right, with who your parents are, you possessing such an ability wouldn't be far-fetched."
When she opened them again, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, heavy with years of longing and hopelessness that were finally cracking.
"If that's truly the case… Please, Lucian," she whispered, her voice trembling, "Please… help me. Help me be free."
Lucian gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Of course. All you had to do was ask," he said, his tone gentle.
Medusa gave a shaky laugh, brushing a few stray locks of hair behind her ear, her expression deeply touched. Without hesitation, she stood up, pushing back her chair and facing him squarely.
"Alright," she said, determination flashing in her eyes, "what do you need me to do?"
Lucian chuckled, motioning for her to come closer.
"Nothing at all," he said casually. "Just stand there and let me enjoy a five-course meal~"
Medusa stood before Lucian, reaching slowly for her glasses. She knew full well that, thanks to Lucian's own cursed eyes, her petrifying gaze would have no effect on him. As she removed them, her form began to subtly shift. Her once-tamed hair stirred restlessly, transforming into a writhing mass of serpents, each one hissing and baring its fangs. Her pupils narrowed into deadly slits, shimmering with an ancient and dangerous power.
"Before we begin," Medusa said softly, her voice carrying a strange mix of warning and resignation, "I feel it's only fair to tell you the true nature of my curse. Most people believe that my punishment was simply being turned into a Gorgon... and while that's partially true, it's a misconception I never bothered to correct."
Lucian tilted his head slightly, confusion plain on his face as he watched her. Medusa merely shook her head with a rueful smile.
"I have sisters, you know. We're called the Gorgon sisters, after all. Why wouldn't I have been a Gorgon to begin with?" She chuckled bitterly. "What I lost that day was far greater than just my purity... I lost my freedom." Her voice lowered, heavy with centuries of unspoken pain. "The curse the gods placed on me stripped me of my autonomy. It shackled me to the monstrous form you see now, made me unable to revert to my former self. I was doomed to remain a beast for all eternity, and anyone who dared meet my eyes would be turned into stone."
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before continuing.
"Gorgons were not originally monsters," she whispered. "But after the curse, that was all the world ever saw me as — a creature to be feared, hunted, and slain for glory. Demigods came from far and wide to claim my head as a trophy, proof they had vanquished a monster." Her gaze softened as she looked down at Lucian. Her smile — sad, hollow, beautiful — spoke of a depth of sorrow that words could never fully convey. "The gods stole from me the two most sacred things a being could possess: my freedom... and my purity. That is the true nature of my curse."
Lucian lowered his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. A heavy silence hung between them before he finally spoke, his voice low and pained.
"I'm sorry…" he murmured.
Medusa opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that she hadn't spoken her story to elicit pity or apology, but Lucian raised a hand to stop her.
"I'm not apologizing for what happened to you," Lucian said, his voice gaining strength. "I'm apologizing for what I can't give you back. Your purity... it's something beyond my ability to restore. And for that, I am truly, deeply sorry."
Slowly, he lifted his head, his crimson eyes locking with her serpentine gaze. They glowed brilliantly, like twin embers burning in the darkness.
"But," he continued, "what I can give back to you… is your freedom."
Medusa stared at him, stunned, before closing her eyes and smiling — a soft, genuine smile full of gratitude and unexpected hope.
"That," she whispered, "is more than I ever dreamed of receiving."
Lucian moved closer, the shadows around him rising like smoke, lifting him to her level. "May I?" he asked quietly, extending a hand toward her.
Medusa chuckled, her voice warm. "Yes, Lucian," she said with amusement, "you have my permission to touch me."
Lucian's hand gently cupped her cheek. Medusa flinched instinctively, the serpents in her hair hissing and baring their fangs at him in warning. Yet she stood her ground, allowing his touch.
Lucian closed his eyes — and in the next instant, Medusa's snapped wide open, her pupils dilating and turning pitch black. Her mouth opened wordlessly as she stared upward, her body stiff and trembling.
Lucian's eyes shot open just as he felt an overwhelming surge of malevolent energy, far more ancient and corrosive than he had anticipated. Horror flashed across his face, but before he could react, Medusa let loose a wail — no, a roar — a sound so raw, so powerful, so soaked in millennia of resentment and hatred that the very air quaked around them.
The shockwave blasted Lucian backward like a ragdoll, his body smashing through the nearby wall, crashing through statues, and splintering another wall beyond it. He skidded violently across the dirt, tumbling like a broken doll, before slamming hard into a massive tree. The force shattered the trunk, toppling it with a thunderous crack.
Lucian lay trembling, coughing up blood, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Every inch of his body screamed in protest.
"Damn it..." he wheezed, barely able to get the words out. "My greed really will be the death of me…"
Suddenly, a monstrous, inhuman roar tore through the sky, shaking the ground beneath him. Birds erupted from the trees in frantic flocks, fleeing the unnatural sound.
Lucian grimaced, covering his ears against the deafening noise as he struggled onto all fours.
"Just my damn luck," he groaned, spitting blood into the dirt. "Of course the curse would turn sentient the moment I make contact with it! You've gotta be kidding me!"
He staggered to his feet, glaring up at the trembling sky.
"Come on, Fates!" he cried out angrily. "I thought you were supposed to be on my side!?"
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