On deck, Samael let out a sigh of relief, lazily sprawling against the ship's rail to bask in the sun. Meanwhile, the dazed and bewildered young witch was led by Atalanta—her expression now slightly brighter—to her cabin for washing and comfort. Seeing how easily the situation had been resolved, the others exchanged information with waning enthusiasm, briefly summarizing the events before dispersing.
After the daily prayers and sacrifices to the gods, Jason, who intended to start gathering intelligence from within Colchis, glanced back uneasily at the wispy blue smoke rising from the altar. He paused, edged closer to Samael, and murmured softly.
"Honestly, I've been feeling increasingly uneasy lately. Maybe I should make another private offering to Her Majesty Hera, just to ask for some peace?"
Samael shot his friend a withering look, unable to resist a sarcastic retort.
"She's not your own mother, for crying out loud. How could she protect you every single moment? Besides, she even abandoned her own son—what makes you think she'd care about you?"
"I heard there's a temple to Hecate, the goddess of the Underworld Moon, in Colchis. Maybe I should pay her a visit?"
"If you want to die, I won't stop you."
Samael cast a lingering glance toward the room where Atalanta and Medea stayed, then tapped the fingertip that had just severed Eros's power, his expression laden with meaning.
"Is it really that serious? I just feel uneasy. Why don't I join you in praying to Athena?"
Samael, his arm tightly gripped by Jason, felt somewhat helpless.
What's the point of praying to her? Isn't my protection enough?
Though his inner rant raged, it was destined to remain unspoken.
Observing the man's alarmed, startled expression, the Ancient Serpent knew he'd never set foot off the ship today without some reassurance. A faint, irritated snort escaped him.
"You ignore the one who's actually useful, instead seeking out Divine Spirits harder to appease than the last. Don't you deserve a slap?"
"Helpful?"
"Mhm. And she's right here on our ship. The Golden Fleece? Might just depend on her mood."
"On the ship? Who?"
Jason's voice rose, his eyes flickering with surprise and hope.
Samael dragged his friend to a cabin door, his sinister grin fixed as he knocked.
"Wake up! The sun's already high in the sky!"
"Mmm, no... let me sleep a little longer..."
"Keep whining, and I'll drag you out and roast you alive! You stupid bird!"
The sudden freeze in the voice instantly chased away the lazy sloth's drowsiness like a cold front. Amidst a clatter of clinking sounds, Circe hurriedly flung open the door.
"You... you wanted me?"
The great witch, who had witnessed this Divine Spirit's brutal punishment of earthly evils, swallowed hard, her neck drawn back, asking cautiously.
"I hear you spent all day yesterday dragging the boss around shopping. Pretty idle, huh?"
Samael crossed his arms and sneered, his tone dripping with reproach.
"N-no, I was working hard too..."
Circe's eyes darted nervously, a flicker of guilt visible.
Only travel and good food were worth pursuing—as for those boring men of the Argo chasing after her? Not her problem.
"Enough with the excuses. I've got a job for you today."
"What is it?"
"Go to the palace of King Aeetes in Colchis. Probe around and see what terms he'd accept for handing over the Golden Fleece."
"Oh, you mean Aeetes? So that's why you summoned me. Easy enough."
Hearing the monster's surprisingly simple objective, Circe straightened her back, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Samael glanced at the claw draped over his shoulder and reminded her impatiently.
"Your hand..."
"Sorry, my bad!"
Realizing she'd gotten a bit too full of herself, the eagle witch quickly pulled her claw back. Like a hen caught by a fox, she drooped her head and corrected her posture.
"Cut the chatter. We're going today. Pay attention. Don't forget we're carrying out the gods' will. You don't want your brother to die over this, do you?"
Samael couldn't be bothered to argue with this foolish bird and reminded her patiently.
"Yeah, I will..."
Circe scratched her head and accepted the task.
Honestly, she had little contact with her older brother, and there wasn't much affection between them. If anything, because of her devotion to Hecate, she was closer to her niece Medea.
When that little girl was studying Magecraft at Hecate's temple, Circe, bored on her island, had often entered her dreams to teach her. In a sense, she was Medea's senior.
After so many years apart, this was a good chance to check on her niece.
As for her brother's affairs, well, witches lived free and unbound. Such ties didn't mean much to them.
...
Only after Circe—staff in hand—walked down the Argo's gangplank and disappeared into the harbor did Jason finally come back to his senses. He muttered under his breath,
"She just said 'Aeetes,' right?"
"Mhm..."
"Isn't that the current King of Colchis? They're siblings?!"
"Why else would the War God Mountain send this silly bird with me?"
"Praise Athena! Your wisdom is unmatched!"
Realizing the Argo held such a trump card—possibly more effective than a Divine Spirit—Jason became visibly excited. He rubbed his hands together and lavished flattery on the Goddess of Wisdom, as if the Golden Fleece itself were already waving to him.
"Don't get excited so quickly. Didn't you see how she preferred wandering around and slacking off yesterday rather than visiting her royal brother?
Greek brothers these days are unreliable. Siblings who haven't seen each other in decades? Even less so. At best, she'll make things a bit easier or help you get in touch."
Samael mercilessly poured cold water on his hopes, extinguishing Jason's brief spark of optimism.
The captain hung his head, struck hard by reality.
After yesterday's scouting, the more he learned about the current King of Colchis, the more daunting the task of acquiring the Golden Fleece appeared.
"Alright. Go to Ares' sacred grove under the pretext of a sacrifice. Take a look at the Golden Fleece and map out the route. It might prove useful later."
The Ancient Serpent offered the suggestion casually. Jason's eyes flickered as he nodded, a new solemnity settling in.
After a short pause, the ever-cautious and survival-minded captain gathered his strongest warriors—Heracles, Peleus, Telamon, and the Spartan twins—to accompany him to the sacred grove.
Clearly, Jason was beginning to suspect that if negotiations for the Golden Fleece failed, they might have to steal it.
They needed a backup plan, and scouting Ares' sacred grove was essential.
As the crew members disembarked to handle their individual tasks, Samael stretched lazily and walked toward Atalanta's cabin with a satisfied look.
Perfect. That silly bird had been sent off to do real work. Now no one would interrupt the quiet time he hoped to spend with the big sister.
And separating Jason, Circe, and Medea also kept the girl's identity hidden from the Argonauts. Preventing her from getting involved was, in a way, its own form of protection.
So after burning through so many brain cells, surely no one would disturb his plans to slack off and pet cats now?
...
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