Writer's Month 2023, Day 28: "Mythology AU"
Original fiction/Classical mythology adaptation
Status/Word count: A snippet from a middle-grade novel that I want to write one day. 824 words.
Summary: An alternate take on the story of Perseus and Medusa.
Author's notes: Remember when Lauren Faust was working on a Medusa movie that fell through? This came from me thinking about what it should have been like.
Also, don't @ me, there is a late, obscure source that gives Medusa this origin story.
"Okay!" Medusa said, keeping one hand over her eyes while holding up the other. "Let's just—put the sword away and talk about this."
She heard the boy's sandals scrape on the ground as he took a step toward her. She cringed back, even as her snakes hissed indignantly.
"...Why are you acting like that?" he said finally.
She stopped trembling, but only because she was surprised enough to forget how terrified she was.
"Because you tried to decapitate me?"
He made a vague sound like a scoff.
"Yes, but I expected you to try...killing me, you know? With your stare that turns people to stone. Instead of covering your face, so that you...don't...do that."
Medusa blinked behind her hand.
"Oh. I actually didn't think of that. I mean, it's kind of become an instinct, and—well, I mean, I don't want to turn you to stone, you understand, but I suppose if you're...trying to kill me..."
She peeked out cautiously, then blinked, as she found that the boy was staring at his shield instead of her face. She could see both of their images in its polished surface.
"Does it not work with my reflection?"
"No."
He shuffled his feet awkwardly, then lowered his sword.
"I also notice that you're not trying to kill me with your brazen claws."
She looked down at them, then back to the boy, whose gaze remained steadfastly on his shield.
"Do you want me to?"
"No, but I kind of expected it."
Another awkward pause.
"You're not as murderous as I thought you'd be. Y'know. Since you left a trail of petrified bodies on the way here."
Medusa scowled. "That was an accident! After Athena cursed me, I—"
"Why did Athena curse you?"
"For saying I was prettier than her."
The boy gave her an incredulous look. "You claimed to be more beautiful than a goddess?"
"Well, she seemed like a safe goddess to choose! A humblebrag, really. 'Ha, I may not be Aphrodite or Hera, but I'm at least nicer than Athena, right?' You'd think a goddess of wisdom wouldn't be so vain! I mean, she goes around in armor and a helmet, it's not exactly flattering."
"No, I mean...YOU claimed to be more beautiful than a goddess?"
He drew back as Medusa's hair hissed angrily.
"I didn't look like THIS at the time! That's what I'm saying! Athena got mad and turned me into a gorgon, and then I—turned a bunch of people to stone when I ran away. By accident."
The boy took that in for a long moment.
Then he closed his eyes, threw back his head and groaned loudly toward the heavens.
Medusa blinked as he covered his face with his shield, knelt down and kept groaning from the other side of it.
"Are you alright?" Medusa asked to the man who had been trying to decapitate her five minutes ago.
"NO!" he said loudly.
"Well, what's the matter?"
"The matter is that I'm supposed to kill you!" He put his shield and sword on the ground, covering his face with both hands. "I've swore to bring your head to King Polydectes!"
"Oh." Medusa considered this. "But you're not going to?" she added hopefully.
"No, because I can't, because you're not an evil monster. Even though you've sort of killed hundreds of people." He paused, as though weighing whether or not he could decapitate her for that, but shook his head. "But I swore that I would, so now I'm going to look like an idiot, and the king won't give me a job and Dictys won't be able to retire and—AAGGHH!"
He smacked his palms against his head a few times, then fell silent, head drooped until it was practically in his lap.
Medusa thought for a long moment.
"Well..." she said eventually. "You said you'd bring him my head?"
He nodded dully.
"I suppose you still could."
The boy looked up, thankfully remembering to shut his eyes at the last second. "You can do that?! Like...disconnect it or something?"
"What? No. No, my head is staying attached to my neck." She wanted to be very clear on that point. "But what if I go with you to see this king? That would work, right?"
It was his turn to stop and think now.
"I mean...technically. You'll tell him that I was about to kill you, right?"
"Um."
"I'm trying to get a job as a bodyguard or a soldier. He needs to know I'm good at killing."
"Alright," she said reluctantly. "If you make it clear to everyone that I didn't hurt anyone on purpose."
The boy gave a wide, toothy grin and jumped to his feet, his eyes still clenched shut.
"Alright, Gorgon," he said, extending his head in the approximate direction where she was standing. "It's a deal."
She shook his head. "My name is Medusa," she added.
"Perseus."
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Elegy For Beauty, the Last Sacrifice Needed for Armor
--prompt from @nosebleedclub "medusa" (15 November)
As beautiful you were is how hideous you will become,
with your serpentine locks and your emerald eyes.
Fangs intimidate the intimate despite your lack of bite;
gills emerge from your body despite being a child born from limestone.
Why would the sea take you in as your mistress?
You lounge at your temple, with robes falling like rain;
you fantasize of knowing the divine intimately
without knowing how it burns you.
The olive trees try to embrace you,
but when the saltwater starts flooding in,
they know nothing but to retreat back to their roots
amongst the rocks.
You're a beautiful child, with hair braided down your hips.
But that has been charred amongst your transformation,
so that only your fire burns from the pit of your chest,
turning into a beam of light so that nobody
could meet your gaze again.
And yet, you still laugh at the world which has conceived of your rage.
Your afterlife is of charred wings and children of vengeance,
who know not your killer.
You still see all, blinded and with tears flowing down
onto the polis.
You know what she has transformed you into,
but know not what parts of you died
in the process. --Elda Mengisto
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