Blind Evocation (Male!Medusa x Blind!Male!Reader)

Mu

A house sat on a hill overlooking a rather unimpressive little village. Within it, a father and son were arguing.

"I am going after him, father!" Hesiod shouted furiously, stomping through the house. In his right hand was the grip of a sword. A newly-forged sword. The sword that was a gift.

Haemon followed his foolish son, "Your story is ridiculous! A god spoke with you at the temple?"

"You don't need to believe me! You just need to let me leave," Hesiod growled, jaw clenching. "I'm going after Y/n, father, whether you let me or not."

The shouting boy disappeared into his room, roughly shoving provisions and drachma into a thick, coarse sack made of gunny. His father watched on, frustrated.

"It is not you nor the gods I doubt," he spoke shortly. He couldn't disbelieve in the face of his son's resolve.

However, his son wasn't listening. Hesiod threw the pouch over one shoulder and came storming his way out. Haemon slammed a hand to the crudely-cut doorframe wall, stopping the boy's hasty exit. Hesiod's golden eyes shot up to meet his.

"Tell me again why you think you have to do any of this?" Haemon spoke haltingly, trying not to succumb to impatience. The true lunacy after all was at the root of this precise question.

"I told you before, the gods spoke with me and told me precisely where Y/n is. They obviously want me to find him. Would you ignore the gods?"

"No," Haemon shook his head, voice devilishly quiet. "They told you because you prayed for it."

"Well, yes I did but I don't see what that has to do with anything?" A furrow appeared between Hesiod's brows.

"You, Hesiod, are the one who wants to save the blind boy. I doubt the gods could care less."

Hesiod took a step backward. "What are you saying, father?"

"Son," Haemon spoke gruffly, "the boy is blind. He's useless and not worth hunting a Gorgon for — if that's even where he is truthfully."

For the first time in Hesiod's life, he felt disgusted by something his father said — simultaneously, he felt an acute sympathy toward Y/n. He had never given it much thought before. To how everyone who passed Y/n, learned of the boy's affliction, would end up with the simple, cut-and-dry assessment: blind is useless. Hesiod had said it, G/n had said it to the boy repeatedly, and now Haemon was saying it.

His father wasn't saying anything new — Hesiod was aware of what Y/n was. Yet, somehow now it made Hesiod feel ill. Because it was being used as an excuse to abandon Y/n — to condemn the (h/c) boy to death. To whatever fate that the Gorgon would give the blind boy.

And it felt wrong.

"You still haven't learned the most important thing: honor!"

Hesiod remembered laughing at a frazzled Y/n only a mere fortnight before. Where was the honor in abandoning Y/n? Where was the honor in ignoring the gods? Where was the honor in what his father was suggesting?

Hesiod shoved his father out of the way. "That is where he is, and I'm not leaving him there."

With a pack over one shoulder and a sword gripped tightly in his opposite hand, Hesiod stormed out of the house.

A hand on his shoulder prevented him from leaving the house entirely behind. Hesiod turned a harsh glare to his father.

"Where do you think you're going alone?"

"I told you —" Hesiod stilled. "Wait..."

Like Haemon was the type of man to leave his only son to foolishly hunt a Gorgon. His father inwardly chided his young, brash son.