The Argonaut Expedition - (2)
The Argonaut expedition, gathering countless heroes, attracted the attention of the citizens, who began to discuss their journey.
“Who will lead the expedition of around fifty heroes?”
“Jason, the one who gathered the crew? Or perhaps Meleager? No, it must be... the great hero, Heracles, right?”
“There might even be a fight to determine the captain of the expedition.”
“In that case, Heracles leading the Argo seems most likely.”
Contrary to the citizens’ predictions, the decision of who would lead the crew was resolved simply. These men had endured life and death together, whether in Thebes or even the underworld.
No one knew each other better than they did.
“Jason, you should take the helm as captain.”
“I don’t mind. Isn’t this expedition to claim your rightful place as king?”
“As the physician here, I agree. If anyone falls ill, just send them my way.”
“And you, Heracles?”
“Of course, I think it’s best if Jason leads. Besides, I don’t like taking charge anyway.”
The training they’d endured in the underworld hadn’t been solely about fighting monsters. They’d also been taught academics, proper etiquette, and engaged in mock battles among the trainees.
Of course, when the invincible Heracles wasn’t involved, Jason’s side always won during mock battles.
“Hahaha! Then, while aboard my ship, you are all my subjects!”
Two days had passed since the Argo left Iolcos.
The night was upon them, the ocean wind whipping around them and the cold air seeping through the heroes’ garments as they each settled down on one side of the Argo to prepare for rest.
While the gentle sound of Orpheus’s lyre danced in the air, Heracles approached Jason, who was engrossed in studying a map, only lifting his head when he noticed Heracles’ presence.
“Heracles? Why aren’t you surrendering to Hypnos’ gift of sleep? Unless... you’re already a god who no longer needs it?”
“It’s not so easy to become a god.”
“...Isn’t that obvious?”
Jason looked at him, half-amused, as though Heracles had suggested it might be easy to become divine.
“No... even becoming a king is far from easy. Just look at me—I’m going through all this trouble just to reclaim the throne stolen by my uncle.”
“What will you do once you have the Golden Fleece and sit on the throne of Iolcos?”
“What else? I’ll govern my people. Why do you ask? Is it because of your goal to become a god?”
Heracles nodded, a hint of darkness crossing his face as he turned his calm gaze on Jason.
“You’re clever when it comes to this sort of thing.”
“Hah! Quite right. Listening to the crew’s concerns is part of my duty as captain. But I’m a bit surprised—the legendary hero of all Greece is brooding over not knowing how to become a god?”
“Stop teasing me. Speak seriously.”
Jason laughed and clapped Heracles on the back before pausing, his expression growing more thoughtful.
“Hmm... how can I possibly help with that?”
“What?!”
“Think about it—you’re the one closest to godhood on this ship. If you don’t know the answer, how could I?”
Heracles’ expression filled with disappointment. But Jason wasn’t finished.
“Heracles, what does it take to become a hero?”
“...You need to slay monsters or earn fame through your own prowess.”
“And what about becoming a king?”
“Just like you—you gather the people’s support through achievements or inherit it by bloodline...”
“So, wouldn’t becoming a god require something entirely different?”
“...!”
Jason’s casual remark brought sudden clarity to Heracles.
All of the feats he’d accomplished so far... weren’t they all on the path to becoming a hero?
To become a god, he needed to walk the path of a god. Though his accomplishments and strength would help, the key to godhood lay in following the path of the divine.
“Divinity exists to maintain the balance of the world. Simply possessing such thoughts alone... no matter how many feats you achieve, you’ll never reach godhood.”
“Perhaps it’s you who needs to spend more time among mortals.”
The advice of the lord of the underworld and the wave-caller echoed through the hero’s mind. Simply crushing foes and achieving great deeds was not enough for godhood.
“Thank you, Jason. You’ve been of great help.”
“Hmm? So, are you going to become a god now? Oh mighty god Heracles! Make me king!”
“...Don’t joke about this.”
The serious atmosphere dissipated like the wind as Jason, back to his playful self, chuckled. Heracles exchanged a few more words with him before returning to his cabin.
The next day, there was an archery contest, aiming at seagulls flying overhead. Atalanta, the only female hero aboard the Argo, fired ten arrows in rapid succession, claiming victory with her impressive skill.
“Atalanta, your archery is as sharp as ever.”
“Hmph. I am the greatest archer in all of Greece.”
“Hey, I see an island over there. Let’s dock and resupply!”
They soon reached a large island that seemed well-inhabited. Yet, no one was to be seen as the Argo approached.
“This looks like a sizable island. Could it be uninhabited?”
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“There’s no way—there are buildings over there...”
Curious, they ventured further into the island’s depths, where a strange sight awaited them.
A man, bruised as though he’d been severely beaten, was kneeling before a woman with hair the color of seafoam, while others around him cowered in fear, bowing to her.
“Will you strike down travelers again?”
“N-No! Forgive me, goddess Rhode!”
“If I hear word of your actions reaching the ocean again... regardless of what my father says, I’ll send you to the underworld myself.”
Jason and the heroes of the Argo were momentarily bewildered, but the woman’s voice revealed the situation.
“Are you the heroes seeking the Golden Fleece? I only punished him for disgracing the ocean, so pay it no mind.”
“W-Wait! Are you a goddess? Which one?”
“I am Rhode, daughter of Poseidon.”
The sea-haired goddess vanished as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving the man to rise slowly and approach the heroes cautiously.
“Do you... need anything? Whatever you require, just say the word.”
“Why did the goddess punish you?”
At Jason’s question, the man, blushing with shame, introduced himself as King Amycus. He explained he was a demigod, a son of Poseidon, and admitted that his habit of killing travelers with his fists had brought Rhode down upon him.
Uncomfortable with the encounter, the heroes resupplied on the island and continued their journey.
Back on their journey, the Argonauts encountered Phineus, a king who had angered Zeus, resulting in his blindness. Whenever he attempted to eat, harpies would swoop in, devouring his food, leaving him on the brink of starvation.
“Zetes! Calais! You can fly, so chase the harpies away!”
“Understood, Jason!”
Fortunately, Zetes and Calais, twin sons of Boreas, the god of the north wind, were part of the crew and managed to drive off the harpies.
“Since you’ve driven the harpies away, I’ll warn you of the dangers that lie ahead.”
The king provided them with various guidance on navigating hazards like the clashing rocks and pointed out landmarks that would serve as critical guides. Thus, the heroes from all across Greece continued their quest.
Along the way, there was an unfortunate incident—Heracles’ attendant, Hylas, went missing while they were stopped at an island.
“Damn it. We’ll have to depart for now, but we’ll come back for him later.”
“Are you sure, Heracles?”
“We have to. Our mission to retrieve the Golden Fleece must come first.”
“Oh... I thought you and your attendant shared a special connection...”
Telamon’s teasing remark left Heracles momentarily bewildered. As a Theban who worshipped Pluto, his beliefs naturally differed somewhat from those of the Greeks.
“Thebans aren’t particularly fond of such relationships.”
“A-Ah, right. My mistake.”
Despite these interruptions, the Argonaut expedition proceeded smoothly. The monsters they encountered were no match for heroes who’d trained in the underworld, and the blessings of the gods were on their side.
However, there were those who didn’t view this journey favorably. Among the gods who inspired both awe and dread, one stood at the pinnacle of divine power—the Protogenoi.
The earth herself thought.
This would be her last chance.
Without sending forth a giant, no creature could kill Heracles. Neither assassins armed with poison, nor attacks by Chrysaor or Lamia had succeeded...
If the prophetic hero couldn’t be slain, she would face defeat.
Backed against a cliff, she resolved to accept certain sacrifices. Despite her nature as the earth goddess who nurtures life... her grudge against Olympus was no less fierce.