On the fourth day in the Kingdom of Women, the revelry continued unabated. Cyd, Atalanta, and Heracles sat in a row, their chins propped up as they gazed at the distant city. Of the three, only Heracles seemed genuinely concerned about Jason and his men.
"We should have another challenge.." Atalanta began to say while glancing at Cyd.
"I'll only give you one more chance," Cyd replied softly. "I'm not a saint. If this were anyone else, two wagers would be all it takes to show you what could happen."
"I'll honor my wager!" Atalanta clenched her fists.
"Then let the gods witness it," Cyd said, lowering his gaze.
"I understand," Atalanta closed her eyes, accepting the terms.
Heracles blinked, a little bewildered by their exchange. Thus, the fourth day passed. As the sun rose on the fifth day, a change finally came.
A Greek hero, whose name was something like Melas, appeared before them. Heracles initially thought this was a sign of repentance, but it turned out he was just complaining about back pain from too much "activity."
If Cyd hadn't restrained him, Heracles might have smacked the guy right then and there. Fortunately, they learned something important.
The women had started demanding the heroes' to help with farming. Cyd found this perfectly reasonable—after all, the heroes had enjoyed everything else, so why not do some work? However...
"Why should I, a hero, stoop to farming?" the hero scoffed, crossing his arms as he returned to the city.
"They're just a bunch of scumbags," Cyd said, sitting on the edge of Argo looking at the city. "They'll gorge on food, play with women, and refuse to lift a finger, all because they think they're above it. They're a blight on the world."
Even Heracles didn't know what to say to that, and Atalanta had never thought highly of them from the start.
"Maybe the gods have chosen the wrong people," Cyd murmured as he sat alone on the ship's edge, staring at the moon. Athena appeared beside him.
"Perhaps it's time to end this absurd journey," Cyd sighed. "Great gods, this quest for the Golden Fleece began with base desires. It's only fitting it ends in disgrace."
"This is another of the gods' wagers: can Jason truly obtain the Golden Fleece?" Athena chuckled, her white feet dangling over the edge. "Care to guess which side I'm on?"
"Isn't this ship your handiwork?" Cyd sighed again. "But don't worry, Jason and his men will leave this kingdom soon enough."
"Why?" Athena tilted her head.
"Because they're scum," Cyd yawned. "If they had any sense of responsibility, they'd never leave. But they have none, so they left the Argo easily. They'll leave this place just as quickly."
"Maybe I did choose the wrong people," Athena mused, then laughed. "Or perhaps just the wrong person."
On the sixth day in the Kingdom of Women, Heracles was relieved to see some of the Greek heroes returning, though only about half of them. Jason was still absent.
"Yes! We still have unfinished business!" the hero who'd complained yesterday now spoke with unconvincing fervor.
Atalanta scoffed, walking into the forest, wanting nothing to do with the reeking men until the ship sailed.
Cyd watched as the heroes surrounded Heracles, boasting about their supposed dedication. Without hesitation, he followed Atalanta into the trees.
Heracles sighed, resisting the urge to smack them like moles. He knew the ship required more than just his strength to move.
On the seventh day...
"forty-nine, fifty... okay, almost everyone except Jason is here," Cyd leaned against a tree, counting the heroes around Heracles. "This farce needs to end."
"The Argo won't move without Jason," Atalanta reminded him, jumping down from a tree.
"He'll come out soon, tonight or by noon tomorrow," Cyd said, flicking his nails. "Jason will rush back to the ship."
"You seem to know him well," Atalanta tossed him a fruit.
"That man is predictable," Cyd bit into the fruit. "Let's head back to the ship. Our journey will resume soon."
"Just watch."
As Cyd predicted, Jason came running out that night.
"Hurry up, hurry up!"
Jason, his pants half-buttoned, shouted frantically. The other heroes, as if on cue, prepared the Argo for departure.
Cyd shrugged from his perch on the mast. "Told you so."
"He looks like a piglet running from a predator," Atalanta sneered, looking down at Jason, who was gasping for breath on the deck.
"How ironic," Cyd said, watching the island recede. Torches lit up the night as the women chased after them. "Docile beauties turned into beasts overnight. Heroes who once brandished pirate heads now flee with their tails between their legs. Is this the spectacle the gods wanted?"
"Who knows," Atalanta gazed at the moon.
Jason, still catching his breath, complained to Heracles.
"Those women were too much! They wanted us to farm, demanded jewelry, even asked for silk from the East..."
Heracles clenched his fists, barely containing his frustration. He had sneaked into the city during hunts and heard Jason himself vow to stay forever enjoying being lazy. And now, Jason was playing the victim.
The other heroes nodded in agreement, agreeing with Jason's delusions.
"Are all men like this?" Atalanta raised an eyebrow.
"You just happened to meet these particular ones," Cyd shrugged. "But Heracles is an exception."
"And so are you."
Atalanta nodded slightly.
"Men like him won't stay here long."
"He commands respect despite not being the leader, while Jason, the supposed leader, fell quickly," Cyd stretched. "Heracles doesn't belong here, and neither do you. Find a chance to leave the ship."
"I'll still find you," Atalanta's eyes narrowed.
"Don't worry," Cyd lowered his gaze. "I want to leave more than anyone."