The Argonaut Expedition - (1)
“…Please offer your guidance.”
Heracles had already completed eight labors, killing countless monsters and spreading his na throughout Greece. His feats seed enough to earn him a place among the gods. Yet, why was he still mortal? What was missing?
Contemplating this, Heracles looked down, and Triton, observing him, seed montarily taken aback before breaking into laughter.
“Ah… Hahaha! A mortal seeking advice on becoming a god! Hahaha! You’re quite amusing, Heracles!”
“...Pardon?”
“A normal human would struggle to beco even a hero or a king! But you, hah!”
As Heracles’s face filled with confusion, Triton’s laughter grew louder.
“…Isn’t it only natural to reach for the heavens?”
“Indeed, you seem to have surpassed the usual scope of a hero.”
After a long laugh, Triton suddenly grew serious and looked at him.
“Are you curious about the difference between gods and humans? Why you cannot yet ascend to godhood?”
“Yes.”
“Here is Antaeus, the Python slain by the sun god, and Isnius, the dragon child of the war god.”
Nas flowed from Triton’s mouth—nas of legendary beings tied to the divine.
“Do you know what they all have in common?”
“They are all children of gods, yet lack divinity?”
“Correct. Becoming a god isn’t so simple.”
Heracles listened closely, more intently than ever before. It felt as if the secrets of divinity were unraveling before him—each word was not to be missed.
“Becoming a lower deity is relatively simple if the great gods decree it, but you… you are different.”
“Different? How so?”
The god spoke, his words seeming to pulse through Heracles’s mind like the surge of waves.
This voice—it wasn’t just a sound, but sothing that resonated within, as though the ssage was delivered directly to his soul.
Because you can rival the gods even with a mortal body.
Because you have completed multiple labors worthy of a hero’s praise.
Because your trials exceed any ordinary threshold of suffering.
Because you…
More… Sothing more is needed.
If you fail to realize this yourself, you will never beco a god.
“…Ah…”
“It seems you might benefit from associating with other mortals. There’s a man nad Jason forming an expedition… Why don’t you consider joining him once your next labor is complete?”
The Jason Expedition...
Jason
Jason was the son of Aeson, the forr king of Iolcos, who had been exiled by his half-brother Pelias. Growing up in exile, Jason had eventually co to train at the hero’s academy in Thebes, where he was instructed by the wise Chiron alongside Heracles and Asclepius.
After his training, Jason set out to reclaim his rightful throne from Pelias, traveling back to Iolcos. Along the way, he encountered an old woman whom he helped cross a river, inadvertently losing one of his leather sandals.
“Wait… That man is missing a sandal?”
“If the prophecy holds, he’s ant to claim the throne…”
“No way Pelias will just hand over the kingdom, though.”
At the ti, a prophecy from Hera had proclaid that a young man wearing only one sandal would beco the next king of Iolcos. As Jason walked through the city toward the palace, murmurs of the prophecy followed him.
“…So, you say you’re the son of Aeson?”
“Yes. I am Jason, prince of Iolcos. I am here to reclaim the rights that are rightfully mine!”
“Hm…”
Naturally, Pelias was unwilling to relinquish the throne. Yet with Hera’s prophecy hanging over him, he feared judgnt in the underworld should he kill Jason. And with recent rumors of Poseidon’s children becoming uncharacteristically docile, Pelias was hesitant.
‘Hera’s prophecy, Pluto’s watchful gaze in the underworld, and strange changes among Poseidon’s other children…’
Pelias considered yielding the throne, but his ambition proved too powerful to let go. He devised a plan. As long as he did not personally kill Jason, he would avoid judgnt.
“Jason. I would gladly surrender the throne, but don’t you think you should prove your worth?”
“Prove my worth…?”
“There’s a treasure called the Golden Fleece in Colchis to the east. It’s said to hold the power to revive a nation. If you bring it back, I will yield the throne.”
Jason, realizing he had little support among the people, accepted Pelias’s challenge. He had yet to prove himself, after all.
Jason agreed and then stepped outside, raising his voice to call for heroes.
“I am Jason, the rightful heir of Iolcos! I seek brave souls to join in retrieving the Golden Fleece from Colchis. Anyone interested should et here by the next Day of Thanatos!”
“The Golden Fleece of Colchis? That priceless treasure?”
“If he returns with it, he could truly beco king.”
“But it’s said to be guarded by a fierce dragon.”
“Which is why he’s gathering heroes for an expedition, like Orion did.”
“The Mount Athos expedition ended in failure. Will this one succeed?”
News of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece spread across Greece. For heroes, achieving fa by slaying monsters and seizing treasure was irresistible.
Soon, many gathered in Iolcos, each harboring their own ambitions.
The city of Iolcos was abuzz with people flocking to join Jason’s expedition. Yet, not everyone could be accepted.
“Listen up! Not all of us can board the Argo! We will select a limited number of crew mbers!”
“The Argo? Is that the na of that ship?”
“Rumor has it that Athena herself designed it, and it was built by the craftsman Argus…”
“But with so many people here, how will they pick the crew?”
“Jason will probably choose from the Theban heroes he trained with. Their reputation is unmatched.”
As murmurs spread, Jason cleared his throat and began selecting the crew.
“I’m from Sparta, the na’s Tri—”
“Rejected. I’ve heard rumors about your violent behavior…”
“Jason, it’s been a while.”
“Ah, Peleus! Good to see you. I heard you’ve been doing a lot of hunting lately.”
“Orpheus? You’re here too? Having a musician onboard would be good, but…”
“I’ve heard the Sirens’ song is enchanting at sea. I want to see if it rivals my lyre.”
“Hah! Anyone who’s heard your lyre would choose it without hesitation.”
Jason’s crew was slowly assembled. Joining them were renowned figures: Atalanta, Greece’s greatest archer; leager, fad spear-thrower; the twin demigods Dioscuri; and other distinguished heroes and demigods.
“It’s been a while since I last saw you in Thebes.”
“Jason, I never imagined you’d lead an expedition.”
“Indeed. You always had charisma, but an expedition…”
Following Jason’s criteria, most chosen heroes were ones he’d trained with in Thebes. The shared mories from their underworld training bonded them, each recognizing the others.
As they prepared to set sail, making offerings to the gods for safe passage, the crowd suddenly parted, as if creating a path.
Step by step.
“Wait… Isn’t that…?”
“He looks just as they say. Look at those muscles! They say he fought the Nean Lion with his bare hands…”
“With him onboard, this expedition is sure to succeed!”
A lion skin draped over his head, a golden sword at his waist, and a massive club slung over his back. And, most notably, the powerful, muscle-bound physique.
No one in Greece was unfamiliar with this na.
Heracles, the great hero tasked by Hera herself, had arrived.
“Oh, Heracles! I’m honored you’re joining us. I thought you’d be busy with your labors!”
“Jason. It’s been a while.”
The appearance of Greece’s most famous hero brought delight to so, relief to others, and envy to those who feared being overshadowed.
“I wasn’t planning on coming, but Lord Triton advised to join.”
“Triton, caller of waves? You t the son of Poseidon?”
“He said this expedition could aid in achieving my goal.”
Everyone present knew Heracles’s ambition: to join the gods in Olympus. It was a dream he’d often spoken of during their training in the underworld.
“Are you sure about this? If I join, it might overshadow your accomplishnts.”
A statent that, from anyone else, might sound like an arrogant provocation. But from Heracles, it was a genuine concern. His legendary reputation could indeed eclipse the fa of the expedition.
Yet, Jason only laughed heartily and clapped Heracles on the back.
“Haha! Worried for , are you? Don’t worry! We each walk our own paths!”
“Our own paths?”
“Indeed. You aspire to godhood, while I seek to reclaim the throne of Iolcos.”
Jason had always been clear about his goal—to beco king, not simply a hero.
“Is that so? I don’t intend to overshadow anyone’s achievents here. I’ll keep a low profile.”
“Oh, the others will be glad to hear that! Haha!”
Heracles looked at the man before him, a sense of camaraderie rekindling. No one knew how this journey would end, but reuniting with old friends was always a welco thing.
“Haha! Heracles, let’s have a match afterward!”
“I’ll knock you down before I ascend to Olympus, so be ready!”
“Quit brooding and get on board already!”
“Hey, Heracles! Accomplished a few labors, and you think you’re the king, eh?”
One by one, the heroes welcod Heracles onto the Argo, each laughing and bantering. With a slight smile, the great hero finally boarded.
And so, the Argonauts embarked.
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