Medea's lips curled into a smile. "My magic comes directly from the goddess. Let's just say... there's no sorcerer in this kingdom who can rival me."
The princesses, exhilarated, fetched axes and stormed their father's chambers, hacking King Pelias into pieces while he slept.
The faithless king perished by the hands of his own daughters, who, upon returning with his dismembered remains to the garden, found Medea vanished.
It was only then they realized their folly. The servants' frantic cries summoned guards, and the news of Pelias's murder spread like wildfire.
Jason rushed to Medea's chambers, only to find her calmly serving lamb stew.
Spotting Jason's open mistrust, Medea's expression hardened. "I only learned of Pelias's death moments ago. By Hecate's name, I swear I neither cursed nor incited his daughters to kill him!"
Jason's hesitation wavered, but his lingering fear betrayed him. For the first time, he glimpsed the cruelty beneath Medea's grace—the disregard for life, the flouting of moral law. It chilled him to the core; to kill one's king was treason, punishable by imprisonment until death.
The princesses, spared execution due to noble blood, would spend their remaining years in bitter regret.
"Why such brutality? You've ruined their lives!" Jason cried.
Medea's smile never faltered. "I didn't enchant them. Why won't you believe me?"
Jason stared hard at the enchantress, then blurted, "The soldiers only know their king is dead. No one said his daughters killed him."
Medea tilted her head innocently. "So? If you're certain I'm the culprit, why not arrest me?"
Silence fell. Jason's presence alone answered her.
"Spare my cousins. I'll ensure they retreat to the temple. They'll never reveal your hand!"
Medea laughed, shredding her mask. "Hypocrite. Isn't this what you wanted? Those naive girls were your pawns, your tools to secure the throne without risk. I merely... expedited your plans."
She raised a crystal ball, revealing Jason coercing the princesses to silence.
"No gratitude needed. Goodbye, Your Grace. Your indecision will cost you your throne. Better men than you have fallen to hesitation."
She swept out, soldiers lining the corridor. They didn't block her—instead, they parted, urging Jason with their eyes.
Clad in polished bronze, Jason's face obscured by shadow, he led his men toward the chaos of the palace.
The Argonauts' quest ended, but Heracles lingered. His friend was taken by nymphs, and Heracles wandered the earth in search of answers.
Hecate, when asked, offered no clues. "Do not grieve. Your friend will return home with treasures. The nymphs meant no harm."
Soothed, Heracles resumed his journey.
Alcmene and Amphitryon rejoiced at his return, as did the Argonauts, who spread news of Heracles's departure. His parents' fears eased.
To nurture her son, Alcmene hired the scholar Linoës, a descendant of Apollo, to teach him letters. Gifted by divine lineage, Heracles excelled—yet chafed at confinement, often staring out windows.
One day, irritated by Heracles's distraction, Linoës struck him. In reflex, Heracles wielded a lyre, killing the frail teacher instantly.
Judge Rhadamanthus declared him innocent, but Heracles's guilt festered. He begged the gods to resurrect Linoës, no matter the cost.
Asclepius, son of Apollo and Cyrene, heard his plea. "I can revive Linoës—if you offer me the Gorgon Medusa's voluntary blood."
Medusa's kin, though not full deities, wielded power unmatched by lesser gods. Medusa, reinstated by Tyche, guarded the World Tree's Wisdom Spring.
Her blood, nourished by Lotus blooms, held miraculous properties. Taken unwillingly, it was poison; freely given, it resurrected the dead.
Asclepius sought Medusa's mercy through Heracles, who, blessed by the nymphs, could approach her unscathed.
To gods, Medusa's blood was trivial. But to Asclepius, it was the key to transcending mortality—a revolution for his divine office and humanity's adoration.
Heracles rushed to the sea, summoning the merciful Medusa.
She emerged from the waves, her expression fraught with unease upon hearing his plea.
"My blood bears magic through the World Tree's blessing—the Spring of Wisdom purged my curse, merging its divine essence into my veins. It defies death, granting mortals the power to resist Thanatos."
"But there is a cost!" Her voice darkened. "Eos's consort was granted eternity, yet he chose to relinquish it, damning Eos to endless sorrow."
Heracles pleaded relentlessly. Sighing, Medusa withdrew a crystal vial of her voluntary blood. "Let this not be in vain, Heracles. May you not regret it."
She revoked the blessing bestowed upon Perseus's lineage and vanished into the sea.
At Asclepius's behest, Heracles presented the Gorgon's blood, awaiting Linoës's resurrection. Yet Asclepius betrayed him—the scholar's corpse rotted, maggots feasting, stench attracting carrion.
Heracles's anguish festered. When only Linoës's bones remained, rage consumed him. He stormed Apollo's temple, toppling Asclepius's statue.
"Sworn liar! Unworthy of worship!" He toppled Apollo's effigy, shattering it. Apollo's cries—lamentations of the Muses—echoed as he loomed over the ruins.
"Defiler of sanctuaries, Heracles! May madness consume you! Your children shall perish by your hand!"
Athena, present to console Apollo, recoiled at the god's fury.
But the curse struck true.
Asclepius had honored his pledge. The moment Heracles delivered the blood, he resurrected Linoës. Yet the soul was gone—claim(ed) by Thanatos, leaving the body lifeless.
Desperate, Asclepius ventured to the Underworld. Hades denied him, so he donned a mortal guise, evading Charon's gaze with Selene's moonlight.
By the Styx's banks, he found Linoës—a hollowed shade, clutching his chest in remorse. Flowers of crimson blooms sprouted from his lamentations, unnervingly vibrant.
But Asclepius couldn't leave. Each step toward the exit looped him back to the River of Obsession, where blood-red blossoms stretched endlessly.
"The Threefold Prime bind the dead," explained Styx, rising from the waters. "Until they relinquish their regrets, the River claims them."
"You risk eternal discord," she warned, her sorrow heavy. "Immortality corrupts the soul's clarity—humanity's hubris would shatter the earth."
But Asclepius clung to his mission. "The god Apollo's son deserves his due!"
"Blind in your zeal," Styx replied. "The boy's peace was stolen by his peer's folly. You tempt worse than death—eternal torment."
She vanished, leaving Asclepius shaken.
He roused Linoës: "Brother, cast aside this folly! I'll restore you to life!"
Linoës, snapping from his haze, seized Asclepius's hand and fled.
Thanatos raged at the desecration, wings blazing as he pursued. Death faltered momentarily—Selene and Hecate struggled to maintain order.
Escapees flooded the mortal world, evading death's grasp.
Despairing, Thanatos returned. Hades and Zeus, irate at his negligence, forced him to act. Summoning his brother Moros (god of decay), Thanatos unleashed corruption upon Linoës's corpse—maggots reduced it to a vile husk.
The body was beyond saving.
Asclepius resolved to transfer Linoës's essence into a recently deceased vessel, still imbued with vitality.