The forest had quieted again, save for the crunch of leaves beneath their boots.
"Man, you're seriously lucky," Hermes muttered, gnawing his thumb like it owed him money. He stared at the orange light glowing on Cyd's left wrist, one of the thirteen crystal shards nestled in the bracer now softly lit with Apollo's mark.
"I guess it looks cool," Cyd said, tilting his arm and catching the sunlight through the gem. It did feel… different. His steps were lighter, the warmth of the sun wrapping around him like a familiar blanket.
"Cool?" Hermes snorted. "That's not just a fancy sticker. As long as sunlight touches you, Apollo's power protects you. Poison? Purged. Curses? Gone. Even your strength will spike depending on the sun's intensity. That's not cool, kid—that's divine insurance."
Cyd blinked. "That's… insanely overpowered."
Hermes groaned, ruffling his hair. "Right?! Now I feel bad. I was gonna just throw you a couple lazy blessings and call it a day."
Cyd didn't respond. His expression said it all.
"Okay, okay," Hermes laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm kidding—kind of. You seriously helped me out back there. Without you, I'd probably be tied to Apollo's chariot doing laps around the sun."
Honestly, not a bad punishment for you, Cyd thought, but bit his tongue.
"I mean it," Hermes added, more sincerely this time. "You saved my skin. That deserves at least a little gratitude."
He snapped his fingers. "Alright. May you never be deceived."
One of the clear crystals on Cyd's bracer darkened into a steady emerald green.
"…That was fast," Cyd muttered, staring at it. "You just winging this as you go?"
Hermes shrugged. "Hey, I never said I was a majestic god. I'm just the guy who runs errands and thinks way too fast for his own good."
Cyd tilted his head. "Still, not being able to be tricked sounds pretty useful."
"You're welcome."
Hermes tapped his helmet lightly, then raised a brow. "Now, about that song you hummed for Apollo—bad as your rhythm was, it was enough to sway the Sun God. Which means I owe you one more thing."
Cyd raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
Hermes leaned in, voice low. "Information. About the gods. You're trying to find all thirteen, right? Problem is, mortals aren't exactly on the gods' social calendars."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small brass compass, the needle spinning like it had way too much caffeine.
"This'll help," he said, tossing it to Cyd. "I made it while I was working on that erhu. It'll point you toward whichever god you're seeking. As long as you know what you want."
At that moment, the needle clunked and froze, pointing just past Hermes' left shoulder.
"See?" Hermes said with a smug grin. "Works like a charm."
Cyd flipped the compass in his hand, nodding. "Thanks."
"You earned it," Hermes said with a salute. "But I've got messages to deliver, storms to dodge, and pranks to plan. Gotta fly."
And just like that, winged boots flared to life, lifting the trickster god into the sky. Cyd couldn't help but watch him go with a twinge of envy.
"Flying would be nice," he muttered, kicking a stone off the path. "Would make dodging bandits a lot easier."
As if summoned by fate (or irony), a rustle echoed behind the trees.
"Oh come on," Cyd groaned, palm landing against a tree trunk. "Again? What is this, the seventh group today?"
One man stepped forward, cloaked and bow in hand. "Sorry to bother you, but—"
"Let me guess," Cyd cut him off with a sigh, "give you my valuables, spare the lecture? Heard it all already."
He lifted his hand… and the tree beside him cracked as if something massive had shifted in the earth.
"Seriously, do I have 'easy target' tattooed on my forehead?" He yanked the entire tree out of the ground with one hand. "Gods above, I'm not even trying to fight people, and I keep tripping over wannabe robbers."
"W-wait!" the man stammered, stumbling back. "I'm not a bandit! Look—I've got a rabbit!"
He held up a limp, freshly-hunted hare like a white flag.
"Oh." Cyd blinked, then slowly lowered the tree. "My bad. You're actually not a bandit. That's… refreshing."
I'm the one who nearly died! the hunter thought, collapsing onto the ground as his legs gave out.
"Hey, uh… hunter guy? Know where the nearest coast is?" Cyd asked, offering him a hand. "I need a ship."
"Ship, huh?" The hunter pulled himself up and brushed off his coat. "There's one down by the docks, recruiting strong arms. Headed for Colchis, though. Word is, things are heating up over there. Most folks are avoiding it."
"Colchis…" Cyd echoed, rubbing his chin. "Sounds perfect."
"You sure?" the man asked warily.
Cyd smiled, all innocent mischief. "Let's just say… I've got unfinished business."
The hunter nodded slowly. "Well, I can take you there. Not far, really. And… uh… this rabbit's not gonna pay my travel fee."
"What about these?" Cyd pulled a few wolf pelts from his bag, the kind of quality a hunter could sell for a small fortune.
The man gawked. "These are—are you serious?"
"Take them. I won't need them where I'm going." He pushed the bundle into the man's hands before he could argue.
The hunter finally gave in with a smile. "Alright then. Follow me."
As they set off through the trees, Cyd's gaze flicked to the compass again, the needle steady as a heartbeat.
Colchis.
The gods were waiting. And so was whatever came next