December Double Drop!
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According to the gods' original plan, Apollo was supposed to be the one to appear here, showcasing divine power and testing the heroes aboard the Argo.Afterward, it would have been Hera's turn to step in and guide Jason in seeking out the crucial individuals—Phrixus's children with Colchis's Grand Princess, Chryseis.
Phrixus was the original owner of the Golden Fleece. After sacrificing the golden ram to Zeus and hanging the fleece in Ares's temple, he finally gifted it to King Aeetes.
It must be said that Phrixus was a clever man—he knew exactly how to curry favor with Greece's most powerful deities, Zeus and Ares, and even leveraged the fleece to gain Aeetes's support in Colchis, using it as a dowry to marry a beautiful wife and secure her father's influence.
Aeetes, delighted to receive this gift, deemed the Golden Fleece the treasure of Colchis and entrusted it to a sleepless dragon, a creature sacred to Ares.
After all, even if the fleece was but a byproduct of the golden ram, Aeetes was thrilled to share in such a divine relic blessed by both Zeus and Ares.
Phrixus's children with Chryseis would provide Jason with a claim of sorts, though ultimately, he would have to rely on cunning and force to take the Golden Fleece.
But gods, for all their wisdom, are dreadful playwrights. A script like this would surely be panned by critics in later ages, yet in the ancient Greece of the divine era, mortals were long used to the gods' unpredictable meddling and the sudden, divine encounters that could occur at any moment.
Apollo's intended display of godly power would have served as a reminder to the Argo's crew that they were always under divine watch and to encourage them to offer their respects to the gods upon reaching Colchis.
In the Greek view, Colchis lay at the eastern edge of the world; any farther, and the world itself would cease to exist.
So, for Apollo, god of light, to reveal his power in the far east as dawn rose would be fitting.
Yet, thanks to Suren's influence, Artemis had no qualms about throwing a tantrum in front of Apollo, swearing oaths left and right—she had nearly rushed to Zeus himself to proclaim her devotion to Suren.
Apollo, utterly startled, immediately relented, allowing Artemis to meet with Suren.
Greece's most passionate heart was no joke.
---
"…Artemis, you shouldn't go to Suren. I already told you—I'll take your gift to him." Apollo rubbed his temples, adding a veiled threat, "Don't make me kill him, Artemis."
This tactic had always worked; whether he intended to follow through or not, Artemis was easily swayed by it. Any hint that Apollo might harm Suren, and she would quickly relent.
"You can't do it, Apollo!"
To his surprise, this time the threat failed. Arms crossed, Artemis sneered, "Hestia and Athena are both watching over Suren closely. Not even your golden arrows could pierce Hestia's sacred flames to kill him!"
"Besides, Suren has already crossed through the Underworld. Persephone herself told me she's granted him permission to travel freely between the mortal realm and Hades."
Persephone and Artemis had always been close friends; every year, when Persephone returned from the Underworld, she would host a celebration with Athena and Artemis.
Yes, Athena again—the goddess of wisdom had friends in every corner of the divine world.
Apollo felt his head ache even more. She's figured it all out, he thought, exasperated.
They grow up so fast—no more fooling her now.
Seeing that threats weren't working, Apollo softened his tone and tried to reason with her. "Artemis, you're still bound by your vow."
"That oath only requires my chastity; it doesn't mean I can never see my love!"
Artemis, normally single-minded, had found a new clarity. Or perhaps it was just the next stage of her devotion—willing to twist any logic to reach her beloved.
Now it was Artemis's turn to convince Apollo. "Apollo, I'm only going to deliver a gift to Suren and catch up with him. Do you really think so poorly of me, that I'd act without restraint?"
"…Who knows?"
Apollo couldn't help but laugh. "But I can't let you gamble with your life, Artemis!"
Seeing Apollo's steadfast refusal, Artemis finally lost her patience. Stamping her foot, she shouted, "Ap! Ol! Lo! I've told you—I'm only going to visit Suren, nothing more!"
"I, Artemis, am a virtuous, unmarried maiden!"
"If you don't believe me, I'll go swear it to Zeus himself!"
"Alright, alright!" Apollo quickly placated the love-stricken goddess, ultimately forced to relent. "Artemis, I'll trust you this once, but I'll have my bow drawn."
"If you so much as think of breaking your vow, my golden arrow will pierce Suren's heart."
---
Now, the so-called "virtuous maiden," Lady Artemis, was caressing Suren's cheek.
Artemis smiled softly, "Human hands are so convenient. My dear Suren, from the moment you came of age, I've wanted to feel the shape of your face."
Suren made no move to pull away; after all, Artemis was Cynthia, the family member who had cared for him for fifteen years. She'd clothed him as a child when he ran around half-naked. A mere touch on the cheek meant little to him.
"I knew something was off about you," he murmured, "but I never would've guessed you were one of the Twelve Olympians."
Instinctively, he raised his hand to stroke the soft fur he remembered, only to find it was gone—replaced by Artemis herself. Touching a goddess without permission felt… unwise.
In the next instant, though, Artemis took his hand and nestled her head against it, her pale, wavy hair filling his palm.
Suren froze, not knowing where to place his hand. As he looked down, he saw Artemis lowering her head, tail raised playfully, pressing her face into his hand.
"Suren," she said, voice brimming with pride, "I may not have fur for you to touch anymore, but you're welcome to stroke my hair."
She tossed her head slightly, adding, "My hair is cooler and brighter than true moonlight."
Indeed, in this divine era, as goddess of the moon, Artemis's hair reflected the very light that graced the earth each night. Touching her hair was to hold a piece of the moonlight reserved for him alone.
Her words jolted Suren back to his senses, and he pulled his hand back in a hurry, apologizing with a slight bow. "Forgive me, Lady Artemis. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."
After all, she was a deity—a Greek deity, no less. Deep down, Suren knew better than to get too close to these chaotic yet benevolent gods.
"Suren…" Artemis's wide eyes flashed with a hint of hurt, but seeing the respect and sincerity in his gaze, her worry faded.
Thank goodness, she thought. He doesn't hate me; he just holds a certain reverence for me as the god who raised him.
Artemis glanced at Apollo, who was still intently watching from afar, and sighed. Now was clearly not the time. She had hoped to ease Suren's concerns and assure him that deities were not so distant.
But with the Argo under constant divine surveillance, any small lapse on her part would be witnessed by the other gods.
Reluctantly, she released her hold, allowing Suren to step back, the warmth of his presence slipping away from her cool, composed exterior.
Brows furrowed, she retrieved a piece of leather armor from behind her.
"Suren, I crafted this myself, blessed by the powers of the moon. There isn't a finer, lighter piece of armor in all of Greece."
She held it out to him with a smile. "My dear Suren, do you like it?"
He hadn't expected that Artemis's entire purpose in meeting him had been to bring him armor.
By rights, after ruining the last one she gave him, he should have received some form of punishment. Yet, here she was, bringing him another piece.
Well, Artemis was family, after all. Her kindness toward him was bound to be different from her treatment of others.
Suren found himself softening toward her. It seemed not all gods were cruel and capricious—at least, Artemis was different.
The light above grew hotter, nearly blinding him, and even the chill of the moon goddess's aura couldn't dim the radiance of the sun. Artemis knew this was Apollo's way of signaling her.
Determined to keep her from making a mistake, Apollo's vigilance was almost comical. With a sigh, Artemis reluctantly bid Suren farewell.
Touching his cheek, she urged, "Go on, try on the armor I made for you."
Suren blinked, startled. "Right now?"
After all, he was still in his toga—essentially, just a cloth draped over his torso and legs, cinched at the waist. If he removed it, he'd be almost entirely… well, exposed.
---
Athena gritted her teeth. Artemis, you're shameless, she thought. And she still had this up her sleeve.
She wouldn't say it out loud, of course. Instead, she muttered to herself with narrowed eyes, "Hmph. I'm the goddess of craftsmanship, the true guardian of weaving arts. How dare Artemis claim she's made the finest armor in all of Greece?"
"It's time for Suren to see what true Greek craftsmanship looks like."
Athena retrieved her loom from her temple. Unlike Artemis, she wouldn't use animal hide to make clothing. Not only did she consider it primitive, but wild beasts were Artemis's domain. Besides, in civilized Greece, only the highest-quality woven fabric should be used for attire.
Greece didn't raise silkworms, so it had no silk. What they called "thread" was merely a finely processed plant fiber.
But under the craftsmanship of a goddess, even plant fibers could be as luxurious as silk.
Meanwhile, Hestia clenched her fists, inexplicably tempted to step outside her temple. Yet her millennia-long habit of shyness held her back, and she returned to her place by the sacred flame, staring into its light, lost in thought.
Hera, for her part, kept her distance when Artemis returned to her temple. But as the moon goddess passed, Hera called her over.
"Artemis," she asked straightforwardly, "do you wish to break free from your vow of chastity?"
Artemis's gaze became wary. Naive though she was, she knew the strained history she and her siblings shared with Hera. Now, with Hera suddenly approaching her, it felt more like a trap than goodwill.
Hera, however, spoke plainly. "I share half of Zeus's authority, his thunder and lightning. I am also a goddess of magic, a triple goddess…"
"Artemis, I can help you."
"…Pardon me, but why would you help me, Hera?"
Artemis almost agreed then and there, but her past encounters with Hera kept her grounded enough to ask, "We've never been close, Hera. Why the sudden kindness?"
"Because I am the goddess of marriage, a guardian of pure love."
Hera's gaze was unwavering as she spoke, her tone earnest. "May true lovers everywhere fulfill their heart's desire."
"Artemis, despite your foolishness, you are beautiful and pure—the first of the Olympians to seek true love. I want to help you."
Hera's words were so transparent, her intentions so openly laid out, that it bore no resemblance to the subtle wordplay of humans.
She laid her motivations bare, not fearing that Artemis and her siblings would plot against her in return. Even her insults were so direct that her unfeeling, mechanical side, a remnant of her time as a god-machine, shone through.
Artemis, however, wasn't fazed. As an ex-god-machine herself, she accepted Hera's bluntness easily and nodded. "I understand, Hera. You indeed can help me."
"So, what do you want in return?"
"What I want is simple." Hera's smile grew sly as she narrowed her eyes. "Artemis, should you truly win Suren's heart, I want you and him to marry in my temple, with me bearing witness to and officiating your eternal vow of pure love."
A deity's affiliations were of utmost importance, especially for a major god. In the past, Athena's support of Orestes during the Erinyes's trial, where he was acquitted for avenging his father by killing his mother, laid the foundation for a male-dominated society in Greece, signaling her endorsement of paternal power.
Hera's intentions were similar to Zeus's. She wanted to gain another god's support for pure love, hoping to compete with Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.
Though Hera was queen of the gods and goddess of marriage, love and marriage were seen as two opposing forces in Greece, not complementary.
In Greek culture, love between men was considered the truest form of affection, and marriage was largely viewed as an institution of necessity, restricted to opposite-sex relationships for lineage and survival.
This division, of course, did not please Aphrodite, who supported passionate unions of any nature. Hera, wanting to promote pure love within marriage, would need support to counter Aphrodite.
With Artemis, she'd have the backing of a fellow major deity. Given that Artemis and her twin, Apollo, were inseparable, their support would be significant.
Artemis's resolve softened as Hera's offer loomed too tempting to refuse. Nodding, she replied, "Though I don't know how you'll manage it, I accept, Hera."
Having set Artemis's heart even further astray, Hera turned her gaze to the distant Colchis and the Argo sailing toward it.
"To those who swear loyalty to me, Hera will grant any request," she murmured softly. "Even if that wish is to love a goddess."
Just as Artemis left Hera's temple, she ran into another of Greece's great goddesses—Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.
Renowned for her less-than-saintly reputation yet formidable power, Aphrodite's strength at least matched, if not exceeded, Artemis's. But Artemis wasn't intimidated; with Apollo by her side, the twins' influence rivaled even Poseidon and could command respect from Athena herself.
Seeing Aphrodite approach, Artemis tried to sidestep, but Aphrodite halted, studying her closely.
"Oh, that scent," Aphrodite chuckled. "Artemis, I can smell it—a hint of romance. Has our goddess of chastity fallen for someone?"
"…"
Artemis shot her a wary look. Apollo had warned her about Aphrodite's tricks—she was trouble embodied, a manipulative force in constant search of mischief.
Aphrodite wasn't dissuaded. Smiling, she said, "And what if I said… I could help you?"
"…No need. Find someone else."
Artemis shook her head. She'd already enlisted Hera's help and didn't want any entanglements with Aphrodite, sensing the unnecessary complications that might arise.
Should Aphrodite attempt to interfere, well, it would be Hera's problem.
Moreover, she and Apollo weren't ones to be easily bullied.
"Oh, don't be so hasty to turn me down!" Annoyed, Aphrodite suspected Hera had outmaneuvered her.
"Sister, do you really think Hera will help you?"
"Hera has experience in this," Artemis replied bluntly. "She did win over Zeus, didn't she?"
Zeus was hardly faithful; Hera was his seventh wife, the rest either abandoned or consumed. Yet Hera not only held him but also shared half of his power.
If Artemis could learn even a fraction of Hera's ways, wouldn't she be unstoppable?
"Then let me remind you, Hera once tried to destroy Leto and still has her sights on you and Apollo. This is all part of a trap."
Aphrodite feigned concern. "Don't let her bring you to ruin, Artemis!"
"Who else would I trust? Athena? A sneaky cat?" Artemis replied, giving Aphrodite a once-over. "If you have nothing further to say, I'm leaving. You know I'm not good with riddles."
Don't pretend you're clueless, Aphrodite thought bitterly. Artemis might seem naive, but she wasn't stupid. Every attempt Aphrodite had made to manipulate her had failed miserably.
"Next time, Aphrodite," Artemis said and walked away, leaving the goddess of love in stunned silence.
Sigh, thought Aphrodite, composing herself. One wrong step, and I'm falling behind. Seems I'll have to work with that vixen Athena.
"A game with 'pure love' as the prize?" Aphrodite mused, watching Artemis's retreating figure. "How could the goddess of love and beauty miss such a spectacle?"
After stewing in frustration for a while, she returned to her temple on Olympus, casting a scornful look toward Hera's temple.
"Oh, poor Hera. She really thinks Suren will help her define 'pure love,' stealing the authority from me, Aphrodite?"
Leaning back on her throne, she muttered, "Beautiful, naive Suren… setting off on a quest for love and enlightenment without consulting me, but instead seeking out Hera and Athena?"
"If it weren't for your beauty, perfectly embodying the ideals of 'love,' I'd hardly let this insult slide." Aphrodite's eyes narrowed as she reclined with calculated nonchalance.
"But it's not over yet, Suren," she whispered. "If you've ever been curious, know that goddesses are infamously unforgiving."
"The second act of this grand play is about to begin. I wonder, will you survive its opening scene?"
---
Back on the Argo, with the clashing rocks behind them, the sea route from the Black Sea to Colchis had cleared, no more divine interventions necessary.
With no imminent dangers, Suren had ample free time each day to delve into his thoughts, shaping his vision for a better world.
It was during one of these reflective moments that he felt Hera's guidance descend upon him once again.
This time, however, Suren had reached such clarity of mind that he remained fully conscious, even within his dream, and he awoke the next morning without losing a single detail.
"Hera, to what do I owe the honor?"
Suren was surprised by Hera's presence. Though they hadn't reached their destination yet, Hera, the Argo's divine patron, had come to him directly.
"My chosen hero—you do me proud," Hera's voice held motherly warmth as she praised his achievements. "You've done well, holding true to your will and moving even the gods with your feats."
"All of Greece knows your name, Suren. You are Greece's greatest hero."
"Thank you for the praise, Hera, but you know I never sought such titles." Suren sighed with a touch of frustration. "I never wanted to be Greece's newest icon. I don't need to be hailed as the god who 'removes all obstacles.'"
"I'd rather the Greeks see me as a symbol of progress, not just as someone they worship without understanding. Let them strive for a truly enriched age, instead of resting in material wealth while growing spiritually hollow."
A world with perfect material wealth could aspire to the highest virtues.
Only with abundance could a society understand honor and decency, a principle as ancient as Greece itself.
If people struggled just to survive, how could they be expected to uphold lofty morals?
Much like Kaelar in the Age of the Gods, who tolerated the pirates' rampant plundering, Suren recognized that a thriving society's spiritual growth depended on material security.
"I understand," Hera assured him. "You've done more than enough; all Greece needs now is time."
Her motherly smile softened his impatience. "Suren, do you consider the Argo's great journey the pinnacle of your life's glory?"
"Not at all," he replied calmly. "It's not that I'm honored to be on the Argo. It's the Argo that's honored to have me aboard."
"Hera, why have you come? What would you have me do?"
He sensed that Hera's visit was more than just idle conversation; if she wanted to chat, she could wait until his return to Greece.
After all, Colchis was ruled by Aeetes, Hera's foe, a king she despised and wanted nothing to do with.
"Nothing escapes your wisdom, Suren."
Hera's tone grew serious. "It's not for me, but for Artemis. She needs help with a… delicate matter."
"Artemis?" Suren was puzzled. "With Zeus and Apollo's favor, who could trouble her?"
"Suren," Hera began, her tone softening, "do you know much of Greece's past?"
And as she began to tell him, Hera unfolded the story: "When Artemis was anointed a major goddess, Zeus, in his joy, promised to grant her anything. In response, Artemis asked for 'eternal purity.' Zeus even drew his lightning, but Artemis did not falter."
"I see," Suren nodded thoughtfully. "So, now Artemis regrets her choice?"
"Yes," Hera sighed. "Artemis regrets it, but breaking her vow would see her consumed by Zeus's thunder—a fate Apollo cannot accept."
"So, if you're willing, I'd like you to help Artemis free herself from this vow."
Orion, the mythic hero, was supposed to play this role, Suren thought. But I haven't heard of him.
Orion was known for his bold proclamation of being Greece's greatest hero, declaring no one his equal. If he had appeared, surely news would've spread.
Though he had no idea who had captured Artemis's heart so deeply she'd risk divine wrath, Suren replied, "Of course, Hera, I will help Artemis lift her vow."
In many ways, Artemis had been his first guide in the Greek Age of the Gods.
The first major god he met, his first blessing—all were thanks to Artemis.
If his deity was in trouble, as her follower, he was bound to help.
Oddly enough, he couldn't shake the feeling that Artemis had grown up in a way, prompting a peculiar my child's all grown up sentiment.
Strange, considering she had watched him grow from a child.
"Hera, do you have any leads?" he asked, looking at her directly. "Since you came to find me, you must have a plan."
"To lift Artemis's vow," she replied, "confronting Zeus is unavoidable."
Hera's gaze settled on him. "The gods will soon hold a grand gathering to discuss your vision of a golden age. I believe you've proven yourself worthy to attend this gathering, and you should stand before the gods and declare your beliefs openly."
"So you want me to use this opportunity to ask Zeus about lifting Artemis's vow?"
Suren rubbed his chin, then agreed. "Alright, Hera. When do we leave for Olympus?"
Hera's hand came up to gently caress his cheek. "No rush, Suren. Anytime you wish. For someone like you, Olympus is hardly an insurmountable mountain."
Olympus was Greece's most revered mountain, said to connect the heavens and earth. Even gods had to climb it to journey between realms.
If a mortal reached its summit, they would be granted passage to the heavens.
But in all the ages, no hero had ever dared to try.
---
Suren awoke, Hera having vanished with all the subtlety of the last visit. But her words were fresh in his mind.
"So, Lady Artemis…" he mused aloud. "It's time to help my patron god overcome her obstacles."
After all the times he had helped others conquer their hurdles, now it was Artemis who needed his aid. And he would not refuse.
With this resolve, he sought out Jason to inform him of his departure.
"What? You're leaving?"
Jason's shout could have rattled the heavens, and he looked at Suren, panicked. "But why? We're so close to Colchis—only a day away! Why leave now?"
"Did I do something to offend you? Just say the word; I can change."
"Or is it me being captain that bothers you? We can discuss it—whoever you think should be captain can take over."
"…"
Suren barely had a chance to get a word in before Jason was speaking again, relentless and desperate to keep him aboard. While he was undoubtedly sincere, Suren remained resolute.
After all, how could he stay for the Argo's final adventure if it meant neglecting his patron deity?
"It's none of that, Jason. Hear me out!"
With a loud shout, he finally silenced Jason's torrent of words. Better to stop this now before the other heroes showed up, eager to add their voices to the mix.
"My patron, Lady Artemis, needs my help," he explained. "So I have to go."
"Anyway, with all the trials behind us, the rest of the journey is smooth sailing. My presence won't make much difference…"
"But this is our chance to be remembered forever!" Peleus protested. "And without you, can the Argo truly be complete?"
"Fame belongs to every hero on this ship. It's not mine alone." Suren replied calmly. "Every feast must come to an end, and our adventure is no exception."
Atalanta appeared, carrying two bundles. Handing one to Suren, she said, "Your belongings are ready. When do we leave?"
"…Atalanta, I don't think I can bring you where I'm headed."
Suren looked at her apologetically. Next, he'd be climbing Olympus, likely facing the gods themselves. Who knew how they would react? If things turned hostile, he couldn't guarantee Atalanta's safety.
Her reply, however, was calm. "I know. A good woman doesn't add to her beloved's burdens."
"So I won't ask where you're going or insist on following…"
"But without you, the Argo has no meaning for me. You can go forward freely, but if you ever turn back, Suren, you'll find me in the forest, waiting for you."
Suren hesitated, uncertain of how to respond. Atalanta's words left no room for objection; it wasn't as if he could forbid her from leaving the ship.
"This will wear on you…" he sighed. "Adoration is the furthest distance from understanding, and waiting is much the same."
Still, in the end, he didn't stop her.
Seeing his unshakable resolve, Jason arranged a farewell feast—the grandest they had ever held—to honor this greatest and most powerful of heroes as he departed from the Argo.
As Atalanta watched him disappear from view, she wondered—
What could cause Artemis, one of the twelve Olympians, goddess of the moon and the hunt, to seek Suren's help?
"What could trouble a major god that would require Suren's assistance?"
She bit her lip thoughtfully, sensing that whatever burden Artemis sought to lift, it might also relieve her of the vow she herself had made to the goddess long ago.
"Could it be… the goddess wants to renounce her vow of eternal purity?"
Atalanta thought this might indeed be the case. Her own vow had been made in reverence to Artemis, binding her to the same path.
If this was the goddess's wish, Atalanta was prepared to accept any punishment for failing her vow. Even if it meant losing her humanity to become a mindless beast, she would willingly face it—because only love of the truest kind could overcome life and death.
A divine feast was nothing unusual. The gods, with little else to do, often passed their time hosting grand celebrations and descending to the mortal world to toy with humanity.
But news of Suren's arrival had spread quickly through Olympus, and curiosity among the gods was high. They all eagerly awaited the appearance of the mortal hero who aspired to bring about an age where gods and humans could flourish together.
However, Olympus had its factions; some gods were beloved, while others were isolated. At this banquet, twelve Olympians were seated as hosts, with countless other deities attending, while others were conspicuously absent.
The gods took their seats, but Suren had yet to arrive.
After all, on his way up the mountain, he had encountered a certain goddess who radiated misfortune.
From the moment he saw her, Suren felt an instinctive wariness. Trouble, a voice in his head warned. Though he wasn't one to judge hastily, the aura she carried made his stomach tighten.
The goddess, draped in melancholy, flipped a golden apple in her hand. Noticing his gaze, she smiled, saying, "Hello there, greatest hero of Greece."
To her surprise, Suren didn't look at her with disgust or resentment. As the goddess of discord, she was often treated as a walking plague by both mortals and gods.
His lack of revulsion impressed her, prompting her to smile back.
"So, Suren," the goddess of discord, Eris, said with a chuckle, "do you know about the golden apple?"
---
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Posture and water check!
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