Indeed, the violet-haired, violet-eyed, sharp-eared girl before him was none other than Medea, Princess of Colchis.
She was also a disciple and priestess of Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft—one of the most renowned sorceresses of the Greek Age of Gods.
And in the future that once existed, she would fall victim to the machinations of fate and Eros, marry Jason, and help him steal the Golden Fleece.
But tragically, Medea—her mind clouded by the power of the love god—became nothing more than a puppet of destiny, placing her trust in the wrong person.
When the king of Colchis learned that the ancestral treasure, the Golden Fleece, had been stolen, he flew into a rage and sent a fleet to hunt down the Argonauts.
Jason, already in possession of the Fleece—and guided by his instinct for self-preservation and his notorious lack of responsibility toward women—seriously considered handing Medea over to their pursuers to save himself. By any measure, he was being a complete scumbag.
Medea instantly sensed the betrayal in his heart. To prove her resolve and her worth, she steeled herself. Under the guise of negotiations, she slew her brother, dismembered the body, and cast the pieces into the sea, forcing the Colchian fleet to halt their advance.
This closed the door on Jason's cowardly escape plan—and cut off her own path home.
From that moment, the once innocent, cherished girl stepped fully onto the path that would lead her to become the feared sorceress of legend.
(According to the epic Medea, this is indeed where her fall begins. Jason was a catastrophically unfit husband. Had Medea not been moments from being abandoned, cornered with no way out, she would never have been driven to murder her brother out of sheer desperation.)
Later, Jason brought Medea back to his homeland, only to discover that his father Aeson had been secretly killed by his uncle Pelias, who still refused to relinquish the throne.
Once again, it was Medea who used magic to deceive Pelias' daughters into killing their father, avenging Jason.
But this led to the couple's banishment by Pelias' sons, forcing them and their two children into exile in Corinth.
After years of wandering, their fortunes finally stabilized. Then Jason, hungry for power and status, betrayed her—casting her aside for the princess of Corinth.
And as if that wasn't enough, King Creon of Corinth decided to eliminate the "problem" entirely, ordering Medea and her two children expelled from the kingdom with nowhere to go.
Jason, who had long been afraid of and tired of his wife's power, was willing to offer only a handful of gold Zeus coins to be rid of her completely—as if she were a nuisance rather than the woman who had sacrificed everything for him.
In the end, driven to utter heartbreak and consumed by darkness, Medea enacted her terrible revenge.
She killed her sons.
She killed the princess—Jason's new lover.
She killed King Creon.
And then she left, ensuring Jason lived the rest of his life in torment, suffering a fate worse than death.
All in all, this innocent girl—so deeply loved and once so full of light—would have lived a peaceful, happy life if Jason had never appeared.
Because of that, Samael had long been determined to sabotage this marriage. Out of past camaraderie, he had warned Jason early on.
In his view, the best outcome for this Colchis princess was to remain safely in Hecate's temple, enjoying a life where food and clothing were provided without a care in the world.
Even he himself had no intention of interfering with Medea's carefree life.
But that didn't help when a certain princess—rather than performing her sacred duties—secretly snuck out just to experience something "new and exciting." She set up a fortune-telling booth for fun… and happened to run straight into him.
As Samael lamented the fickleness of fate, the Sagittarius Cloth covering his body dissolved into golden light and retracted into him.
Then he suddenly felt a soft weight against his chest. His thoughts stopped, and he looked down.
"I said, it's all right now…"
"Mmh…"
Medea was curled up against him like a timid little rabbit, her eyes lowered, lashes trembling, cheeks flushed a rosy red like an apple ripe enough to bite. A faint, soft sound slipped from her tiny nose.
"Um… could you get off me first?"
"Ah! I—I'm so sorry! I must have inconvenienced you! Forgive me! I truly apologize!"
Snapping back to her senses, Medea realized—far too late—how inappropriate her actions were. She also noticed her veil had slipped off. Her face turned scarlet in an instant. Like she'd been shocked, she jerked back, folding her hands before her stomach and bowing repeatedly, utterly mortified.
"It's fine. I should be the one apologizing. I accidentally broke your crystal ball. Here—this should cover it. Please accept it."
Facing such a soft, bashful little girl, Samael truly couldn't connect her with the future dark witch she would become. After a brief daze, he casually took several gold Zeus coins from his pouch and placed them on the table to compensate her for the damage.
His gaze brushed the lavish star-chart on the table and he murmured inwardly:
This thing is way more expensive. Good thing only the crystal ball broke—if the whole apparatus shattered, that compensation would've been painful.
Having sorted out their business, Samael stood up, intending to leave. He had no wish to disrupt the life of the Princess of Colchis by becoming too involved with her.
"Wait a moment—it really doesn't cost that much. A single divination only requires one gold Zeus."
Medea placed one coin on the table, then swept the rest into her palm and hurried after Samael. She held the coins out to him, her pretty face tense with seriousness.
"But your crystal ball..."
"It's all right! I have several spares back at the temple!"
She answered without thinking, but meeting Samael's gaze for even an instant made her cheeks flush again. Her fingers nervously pinched at the corner of her robe like a child caught doing something wrong. Stammering, she added,
"And besides… y-you just saved me, even at the risk of getting hurt. I can't take your money for that."
"…Fine then. Take this one gold Zeus. If there's nothing else, I'll be going, little girl."
Since she was clearly a pampered young lady who didn't care about the losses and was only here for the novelty of the experience, Samael saw no point in insisting. He casually dropped the recovered coins back into his pouch, said goodbye, and turned to leave.
But before he could take a single step, a pair of pale, soft hands grabbed his wrist.
"Wait… please wait…"
"…What now? Something else?"
"Yes. Since the divination failed and I still took your money, I need to give you extra compensation. That's the fair thing to do."
Compensation? Wait—does she mean…
Samael's expression shifted subtly. He turned back, patted Medea's shoulder earnestly, and gave her a genuinely approving look.
"Honestly, the compensation itself doesn't matter. What's important is fairness. I'm glad you understand that."
"Mhm… It was all because I'm clumsy. The divination went wrong and I almost hurt you. If I don't make up for it somehow, I'll feel guilty. I probably wouldn't sleep tonight."
Medea nodded, letting out a small breath, her smile tinged with shy embarrassment.
This silly girl… Would she even help count the money if someone sold her off? She was like a delicate, healing little flower—not at all like the ruthless witch who would one day kill her brother and her children.
Tsk. Jason, this is all your fault!
Samael grumbled internally, shoving the blame onto his troublesome friend.
"From your accent, you must be someone who sails far across the seas. That means you'll face a lot of danger. Just now, I felt the thing you asked about had to do with those dangers. Even though the divination failed and I couldn't interpret it, I'd like to craft a lucky charm for you—to keep you safe."
Medea opened her small palm and smiled softly.
"So please hand over a small part of yourself…"
"That's the compensation?"
"Yes. Under Hecate's protection, my lucky charms are very effective."
"Ugh… Fine. Will a lock of hair do?"
"Of course…"
Hearing that, Samael lowered his eyes, clearly unenthusiastic.
He was a respectable serpent. He'd already broken a crystal ball worth far more—how could he, in good conscience, accept another gift?
Yet, faced with Medea's hopeful eyes, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. He casually tugged out a strand of hair and placed it in her hand.
The devoted little priestess crouched beneath the table for a moment, tinkering with something. Then she emerged and handed him a carefully prepared charm.
Samael's hand froze midway. The corner of his mouth twitched.
Because the charm was a small witchcraft doll—shaped exactly like Medea herself. A cloth doll with features embroidered in colorful thread, irresistibly cute.
And the dress it wore?
A blinding, soul-destroying shade of Barbie pink.
You're sure you didn't make this specifically to socially assassinate me?
Samael stared at the doll with a hollow, despairing look, both amused and exasperated.
...
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