Bonus Chapter---The newly rescued Heracles, now sitting on the sidelines, was doubting everything he'd known. He looked utterly despondent, ashamed even. A hero who had never suffered a single setback since his emergence into the world had just been bested by a group of women. This blow must have left Heracles feeling indescribably conflicted.
Yes, she used the power of the gods, but an ambush was an ambush—there was nothing more to say about it.
I was careless…
Jason, on the other hand, wore his defeat with a far thicker skin than Heracles; or rather, he simply didn't have the same need to save face. Rubbing his wrists and ankles where the ropes had bound him, Jason, despite his embarrassment, managed to stand before Suren, hesitantly stammering, "Thank you for your kindness, Suren…"
"Thank you for saving the Argo, for protecting this honorable quest for the Golden Fleece."
"No thanks are needed," Suren replied coolly. "I saved you because I felt like it, not because of any ties between us. I would have offered my aid even to a stranger caught up in this kind of sick, philosophical predicament."
So the trolley problem was around even back in the age of the gods?
I don't get you Greeks—why are you always so obsessed with such ridiculous dilemmas?!
Suren couldn't stand philosophical nonsense of that sort. The so-called "trolley problem" was a pointless trap, pure and simple. If Suren were forced into such a choice, he'd set his arrows on the puppeteer forcing him into it.
I'd shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, and shoot!
All gods who passed by would have to take an arrow from me; I'd kill them all—no more ridiculous philosophy questions for me, then.
"…No matter what, you saved our lives, and you saved the Argo's journey!"
Jason's face froze, though his practiced charm soon masked his unease. His curiosity, however, lingered too strongly to ignore, and finally, he couldn't help but ask, "Suren, we're not exactly friends. So why did you, for our sake, even dare to aim your bow at a god?"
Why, indeed?
Suren hadn't just aimed at any old king or hero but had drawn his bow against a god who commanded the heavens and earth.
With only a flicker of his power, Apollo had taken away Suren's vision, the most vital sense for an archer. If the gods truly became hostile, no amount of skill would save him, and not even winning a fight through the underworld could ensure his survival.
So why did he dare—how did he dare?
Suren hadn't merely made bold promises; he'd actually followed through.
He dared to confront the gods with his bow when he saw injustice.
If it had been mere mortals, Jason wouldn't have questioned it. Suren's power was beyond that of any mortal; even sons of gods or demigods looked like insects beside him.
But that power didn't extend to the gods.
Jason knew he could never do what Suren had done, nor could anyone he had met or heard of in all his years of life.
Thus, his bewilderment remained. Why did Suren have the courage to face the gods? And why would he do it for people he wasn't even close to?
The other Argonauts were just as puzzled. They deeply appreciated Suren's aid, his valor in rescuing them from danger, yet couldn't fathom his motives.
Suren chuckled, squinting as he replied, "Maybe that's just the kind of person I am?"
"Your gratitude now, like your resentment before, means little to me."
The beings of this world with supernatural powers or influence—all fell under Suren's restraint. Those who possessed such powers would inevitably cultivate arrogance, idle cruelty, or reckless ambition.
Such figures, or forces, would pose a constant threat to the weak, endangering their lives, rights, and dignity.
Apart from those who Suren had saved or aided directly, most transcendent heroes resented his restrictions. But once they found themselves reduced to weakness, facing subjugation…
They would wish for someone like Suren to come forward, to uphold justice for them.
All humanity is like this. Suren wouldn't feel troubled by their resentment, nor would their gratitude please him.
All he could do was to continue on his path.
My will—to restrain all transcendent beings…
All beings, mortal or divine, must bow their heads before me.
---
Suren led the beaten and disheveled Argonauts back to the ship.
The Dioscuri twins had already cleaned the Argo from top to bottom, while Atalanta had stocked up on game and fresh water. The Argo was fully resupplied and ready for the next leg of the journey.
Atalanta stood at the bow, her emerald-green eyes scanning the defeated heroes before finally calling out in a tone that could infuriate anyone, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the great heroes of the Argo!"
"What happened? You all look so pathetic!"
"Wait, is that Heracles, son of Zeus, the mighty demigod?"
"And look who else! Isn't that Jason, hero endorsed by Hera and Athena?"
Ah, but Atalanta, who hadn't joined in on the party or been charmed by feminine wiles, had the moral high ground here—and enough nerve to mock every one of them.
Even so, Heracles, normally quick-tempered, didn't respond to her jabs. After being repeatedly lectured by Suren, he'd had more than enough. Now all he wanted was a drink and some rest with Hylas.
Yes, Heracles had reserved a spot on the Argo's crew for his lover and foster son—a privilege that none of the other Argonauts could match. That was the reputation of Heracles, after all.
Suren, tweaking Atalanta's cat ears, couldn't help but say, "Come on, Ta-nyan. You can stop now. Keep it up, and Heracles might just explode."
"Everyone has their weaknesses; lust, for men, is among the least of them. It doesn't make one less honorable or grand."
"Though, admittedly, it can lead to some unfortunate outcomes."
Men rarely lack this weakness; it's hardly a fatal flaw. Even a ruler can indulge and still achieve greatness. But arrogance and stubbornness—those truly lead to downfall.
"And what about you?" Atalanta turned to Suren, her cat ears tinged with a hint of red, though the soft fur hid it well enough that Suren didn't notice.
Looking him over, Atalanta asked, "Suren, why don't you indulge yourself? If you believe that a love for women wouldn't stop you from achieving great things, then why do you restrain yourself so much?"
With his noble ideals and almost stoic restraint, Suren was too alluring, and Atalanta constantly wanted to test his limits. The Dioscuri twins had warned her that love isn't a hunt and shouldn't be rushed, but her instincts were hard to ignore.
Suren patted her head and said, "You little stray cat, you wouldn't understand. But that's fine—I won't ask you to. Just try to show some restraint yourself."
Has Ta-nyan forgotten about Artemis?
If her goddess found out about her pursuit of men, she'd probably turn her into a lioness.
Suren shook his head, thinking, This girl's intentions are as direct as they come. Why did you even take that oath in the first place?
It's strange—be it mortals or gods from any myth, those who make vows almost always regret it in the end, and that regret usually comes with a cost.
For gods, that cost might just be a lover; but for mortals, the price of breaking a vow could be far greater.
"Wait—Suren, what happened to your eyes?"
Atalanta's teasing tone vanished. She noticed that although Suren was facing her, his gaze wasn't quite focused on her.
His pupils appeared unchanged, but this stray cat knew his face so well that every detail was etched into her memory.
Now, Suren's eyes seemed filled with light, as though his sight had been placed directly before the sun, unable to close, forced to bear the blinding light.
Yet Suren himself seemed entirely unconcerned, eating and drinking as though nothing was amiss, moving about as freely as ever.
What's the big deal about losing sight?
A true archer doesn't need his vision.
As the intense light filled his eyes, a sixth sense was beginning to form within him, slowly brewing in his spirit. This sixth sense would soon replace his other senses, allowing him to move without restraint, even with his vision taken away.
"It's just a bit of wear and tear," Suren replied, sidestepping her concern. He'd never liked to display his suffering; in his view, everyone walks alone, and not even loved ones can bear your burdens for you.
So he'd learned to keep silent, to bear the loneliness.
Every man must take responsibility for his actions. Drawing a bow against the gods was a trial of the sun. That alone was reward enough.
After all, if he succeeded in his mission, Apollo's freedom would be no more than a memory.
Lemnos was among the larger islands in the Aegean, far larger than those nearby.
With Lemnos behind them, no one knew which country or island awaited them next.
Such unpredictability was the essence of adventure. Gazing at the vast ocean and bright sky, the heroes' spirits lifted. The gloom they'd gathered in Lemnos faded away, and their energy returned.
Adventure meant welcoming every kind of surprise, and while Suren's intervention had prevented them from venting their anger in Lemnos, their fury quickly dissolved into the rhythm of the journey.
After several days, the Argo, guided by the winds, arrived at a small island, home to the Doliones. The island's king, Cyzicus, was already waiting on the shore as the Argonauts approached.
"Welcome, noble heroes of the Argo. I am Cyzicus, king of the Doliones. According to the gods' prophecy, I have awaited your arrival."
Cyzicus showed them every courtesy, even reverence.
The prophecy foretold that the king must not engage the Argonauts in battle, for doing so would spell his death.
Taking the prophecy seriously, Cyzicus waited patiently on the shore, hoping to establish goodwill at once.
But the Argonauts, fresh from their misadventures in Lemnos, couldn't help but feel a twinge of PTSD at the mention of the gods, and the once cheerful mood quickly darkened.
Again, the gods…
So it was true—the Argonauts had never been free from divine scrutiny.
As Cyzicus watched their faces darken, he grew uneasy. Had he done something wrong? Did these heroes come here to kill him after all?
Fortunately, Suren saw the king's distress and said with a clear voice, "We appreciate your welcome, King Cyzicus. My friends are merely weary from the journey, not ill-tempered."
"Rest assured, we only need to resupply, and we'll be on our way."
Entertaining a group of people whom prophecy said would be his end—Cyzicus was certainly under tremendous strain, yet he dared not leave them unattended. He knew one wrong move could lead to a tragic fate.
So Suren's reassurance was like a cool, refreshing spring, flooding the king with gratitude and relief.
The Argonauts decided to linger on the island for a feast, thanks to Cyzicus's warm hospitality.
Throughout the banquet, Cyzicus displayed remarkable humility, and the Argonauts were greatly pleased. They didn't question why the king was so eager to please them.
After all, in their eyes, being lavished with respect was simply the proper way for an adventure to unfold.
In Greek culture, heroes were known to despise force and respond to kindness. Cyzicus's deference struck a deep chord, forging bonds of goodwill.
As the feast drew to an end, Cyzicus raised his goblet high and called out, "Heroes from all of Greece, I am honored to host you. I hope my hospitality has pleased you."
Jason, in his cups, replied, "King Cyzicus, your welcome has indeed been perfect."
"Tell me—is there anything you'd have us do?"
Wasting no time, Jason asked, "Since you've honored the Argo's heroes with such generosity, we're more than willing to assist you in return!"
This was the expected courtesy for Greek heroes.
Though they might pillage, indulge, and love comfort, they also valued honor.
Having enjoyed his bounty and hospitality, Greek heroes rarely refused requests from their hosts.
Cyzicus, however, waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of troubling you. I am simply an admirer of your fame, and this voyage of the Argo is destined to become legend. I wanted only to show you my respect."
Privately, Cyzicus hoped they'd leave as soon as possible. While he'd dealt with six-armed giants nearby before, they were no match for his kingdom. But if the Argonauts turned on him, the gods' prophecy guaranteed his death.
Yet, he dared not reveal his relief, for Greek heroes despised being underestimated. If they thought Cyzicus was afraid, bloodshed would be unavoidable.
Straightforward, brash—they were heroes, after all. Someone as astute as Jason was a rare figure, and even he didn't pick up on the king's unease. Instead, he nodded, feeling a bit proud.
Jason, and indeed all the Argonauts, believed Cyzicus was sincere in his admiration.
After all, this ship carried nearly every hero Greece had to offer, with Heracles himself as part of the crew. Being admired by others didn't seem far-fetched.
But Suren saw things differently. The other heroes observed the world with their eyes, while Suren looked with his heart. Despite Cyzicus's careful facade, Suren noticed his reluctance and discomfort.
Reflecting on the king's cautious words at their meeting, Suren lowered his gaze in thought. "So, this is yet another test from the gods?"
Since he had boarded the Argo…
No—since he had spoken aloud his great ambition, the trials had begun.
But what test could this one man, who feared opposing them, offer?
Later that evening, Suren approached Cyzicus after the feast.
"King Cyzicus," he began, "you'd rather we leave, wouldn't you?"
Cyzicus's face froze, though he quickly forced a smile. "Not at all! You honor us with your presence, noble heroes. How could I wish you gone?"
"I am Suren, the mightiest on this ship. I can decide whether the Argo stays or goes."
Suren didn't hide anything. "I'll ask again—do you truly wish the Argonauts to remain?"
"If so, I will honor your wish."
"No! Please, no!" Cyzicus blurted out before catching himself, then managed a rueful smile. "You see right through me, wise and perceptive hero. In your keen sight, even Athena herself would—"
"Stop right there!" Suren interrupted bluntly, aware of the divine rules and taboos. "Comparing me to the gods is forbidden, and you know it."
He might get away with comparing himself to the gods, but others lacked such immunity.
"Forgive me; that was a slip," Cyzicus replied, glancing nervously at the sky. But no divine wrath appeared, and he consoled himself that either the gods hadn't noticed or that Suren's interjection had averted Athena's anger.
When a god intends to punish a mortal, they usually give some kind of sign—a final act of mercy to warn the transgressor and perhaps allow them to atone.
Seeing everything was calm, Cyzicus took this as a good sign. Athena seemed to have spared him.
"Would you tell me why you feel this way?" Suren asked. "This is our first time meeting, isn't it?"
"Indeed…" Cyzicus's attempt to evade had failed, so he was left with no choice but to confess the prophecy he'd received.
When Suren finished listening, he nodded. "I understand. Tomorrow, we'll set sail, and you need not worry anymore."
Cyzicus was overcome with gratitude and said, "Thank you, Suren. Thank you for your kindness."
Yet, come the next morning, the ship remained anchored in Doliones.
It wasn't that Suren's word had faltered; rather, an unexpected event had forced the Argo to stay.
Just as Suren had rallied the crew to resupply for their departure, a six-armed giant suddenly stormed Doliones, launching a chaotic assault in full view of the Argonauts.
Is this creature really so brazen?
Does it not realize it's up against Greece's mightiest band of heroes—the Argo?
One by one, each hero here could singlehandedly defeat this giant; with so many of them here, it's hopeless.
At the same time, Suren sensed that this test might not be so simple.
"Could this be a test of my insight and wisdom?" he wondered.
In truth, he was reading far too deeply into it. A minor ruler like Cyzicus wasn't enough to be considered a genuine test for him—his real challenge awaited further down the journey.
But once Suren's imagination took hold, he was all in. The notion of a trial requiring no brute force sparked a fresh resolve in him.
During the ensuing feast, after the heroes had dispatched the six-armed giant, Suren called to Cyzicus and presented him with a small magical trinket he'd crafted. "King Cyzicus, thank you for your kindness to the Argonauts."
"This is my gift of gratitude to you."
Then, turning to the Argonauts, Suren addressed them, "Heroes! Are you not going to offer our host a parting gift?"
Seeing how Cyzicus had appeased the Argonauts so thoroughly, it seemed unlikely they'd harm him.
Thus, it had to be a misunderstanding. Suren refrained from mentioning the prophecy, fearing it might lead the others to doubt Cyzicus's sincerity and spark unnecessary conflict.
This indirect approach was his attempt to thwart fate, to save this doomed king's life.
At Suren's prompting, nearly all the heroes offered Cyzicus a token—small items they carried on their persons.
Indicating his own amulet, Suren said, "This is a charm I made by capturing light itself. It glows in any darkness. It may not be much, but you could use it as a lantern that never dims."
Besides, he had more light than he needed. Apollo could be a petty mule of a god.
Holding the glowing amulet before the other heroes, Cyzicus examined it with a smile, then turned to Suren. "Thank you, Suren, for your generosity. I will carry this always."
"Indeed, I will cherish each of your symbols of friendship."
Though Cyzicus was still haunted by the prophecy, Suren finally said, "Well, then—it's time we were on our way!"
As evening fell, Jason hesitated. "Wait—it's dark already. Shall we not leave in the morning?"
"Is nightfall a reason not to sail?" Suren shot him a glance. "I'll explain on board."
Taking Suren at his word, Jason nodded. "Very well. Argo, set sail!"
Jason had come to know Suren's nature well. Throughout the journey, Suren had never meddled with the Argo's course. Now that he was requesting it, Jason trusted he had good reason.
The Argo had only just set out when a dense fog rolled in, distorting their course. They unknowingly circled back from the east, only to return from the west.
Then, beneath the gentle moonlight after the sun had set, Suren's vision returned—this time stronger, sharper.
He could vaguely see the "fate" each human bore. Strange, intricate threads wound around each hero, steering their paths toward destiny…
In the distance, he saw a single thread, dark red as blood, blackened with shadow, entangled with the Argonauts—a symbol of inescapable fate.
"So…this is the world through the gods' eyes?"
Godly predictions were rarely wrong because they saw the threads of fate that mortals could not.
Yet, just as he marveled at the endless webs, his vision faded, and the threads disappeared.
The border guards of Doliones hadn't recognized the Argo, so they raised the alarm. And as Cyzicus had feared, the prophecy drew him into conflict with the Argonauts, the thick fog obscuring his vision.
A few stray arrows shot through the fog. Suren caught one, recognizing it as the work of Doliones' soldiers.
Atalanta scowled, unsheathing her bow in preparation to fire back.
Though the fog obscured everything, Atalanta's instincts let her track the attackers by the sound of bowstrings and arrows cutting through the air.
But Suren placed a hand on her arm. "Ta-nyan, hold."
"…"
Atalanta shot him a puzzled look but remained compliant. Suren sighed, muttering, "It seems… this, too, was foretold. Cyzicus could not escape his fate after all."
"The gods are watching."
Addressing the bewildered heroes around him, Suren explained the situation, concluding with, "It seems the unseen enemy here is none other than Cyzicus, concealed by the fog."
Jason groaned, "So that's why he was so determined to please us!"
"But no matter what's behind this, Cyzicus is a friend of the Argo, so let's avoid making that prophecy come true."
Suren stretched, speaking calmly. "All right. Since we're all agreed, let's take care of this."
"The fog?"
Suren spread his arms. "Oh, cover your ears—this might be loud…"
He then clapped his hands together with such force that the shockwave echoed like thunder, far louder than even Zeus's lightning, reaching an ear-splitting volume that tore through the fog like a storm, revealing the Argo to all.
Seeing the Argo's entire crew before him, Cyzicus clutched his heart, realizing he'd fallen into the prophecy's trap without even knowing it. As if clinging to a lifeline, he held up the glowing charm Suren had given him.
Seeing the charm, the Argonauts immediately recognized him as Cyzicus.
As Cyzicus came into view, Suren smiled. "Congratulations, King Cyzicus. You've conquered fate itself, averting your destined death at the hands of the Argonauts."
"No…" Cyzicus looked at Suren, bowing his head. "It was you who helped me defy fate. You are the one who removes obstacles for those in hardship—the one who offers salvation."
Suren chuckled, waving him off. "No, Cyzicus. It was your own choice that led to this outcome. If you hadn't trusted in fate, if you'd insisted on opposing the Argo, or doubted my sincerity…"
"You would have been unable to escape this fate."
"So, thank yourself, for your peaceful nature and goodwill."
Few possess such an open spirit—perhaps it was Cyzicus's innate nature.
The Argo set sail once more, this time with clear skies, the stars guiding them onward, their course straight and true.
And once the ship was gone, King Cyzicus ordered a statue made in Suren's honor.
In Greece, statues were not reserved solely for gods. Heroes celebrated in songs and praised by kings in epic tales often earned the honor of a statue.
To Cyzicus, Suren was undoubtedly worthy of this honor for the kingdom of Doliones.
He personally ventured to the six-armed giant's former domain—now part of Doliones—and retrieved a fine quality stone, summoning the kingdom's greatest sculptor to create Suren's likeness.
When the statue was finished, Cyzicus knelt before it, hands clasped, and whispered,
"Truly, you are as the bards sing—a noble hero who aids those in suffering, removing obstacles from their paths…"
"From this day forward, whenever mortals face hardship, they may pray to you, Suren, the one we revere, and find a way through their trials."
"Oh, great Remover of Obstacles, I, Cyzicus, will forever remember your kindness."
---
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