"No! Nope! Absolutely not! I'm not getting on that boat—I get seasick!"
Cyd clung to a large rock like a baby koala on caffeine, refusing to let go. The mysterious, confident expression he'd worn just five minutes ago? Gone. Shattered like cheap pottery. Now he looked like he'd just seen the face of death. Because, in a way… he had.
The middle-aged hunter standing nearby scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing between the wildly flailing Cyd and the hulking guy who had caused all this chaos—a guy standing a good head taller than Cyd, with biceps like tree trunks and a grin that could knock over a building.
"Didn't expect you to get seasick, Cyd," Heracles said, slapping Cyd's shoulder with the force of a battering ram. "Don't worry. It gets better after the fifth or sixth time you puke."
"No, see, you don't get it," Cyd muttered, clinging tighter to the rock. "It's not the sea. I'm not seasick. I'm you-sick… I mean—ugh, never mind!"
He wanted to punch himself for getting cocky. Two godly blessings and suddenly he thought he could take on the world. How could he forget this ship?
The Argo.
And the guy recruiting sailors?
Jason.
This wasn't just a boat—it was the floating clubhouse of every Greek hero with too much testosterone and not enough common sense. And now… they were all staring at him.
Across the clearing, a wild-looking huntress with feral eyes was eyeing Cyd like he was dinner and she'd skipped lunch.
Nope. Nope nope nope.
Cyd's fingers dug into the rock, like he was planning to marry it and name their kids Pebble and Boulder Jr.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Heracles, if he doesn't want in, leave him. I'm not running a daycare."
"Hey now," Heracles said, rubbing the back of his head, "he's stronger than he looks. He could be useful. Just… a little dramatic."
Then, with one hand, he lifted the entire rock—Cyd included—and started walking toward the ship.
"Good luck, kid," the hunter called out, waving half-heartedly.
"Oh no—nonononono—" Cyd flailed helplessly.
"Oh yes," said a voice behind him.
Atalanta.
Her eyes gleamed like a lioness who had just cornered her prey.
Cyd screamed inside his head.
Aboard the Argo
"Are we… sure this guy's okay?" Jason asked, for the third time.
"Just seasick," Heracles said with a dismissive wave, though even he looked unsure now.
Cyd had been hugging the ship's railing for ten straight minutes like it was the only thing keeping him from being swallowed by the ocean. He looked one salty breeze away from leaping overboard and swimming back to shore.
Jason shook his head. "Whatever. One extra won't sink us."
"You'll see," Heracles said. "Cyd's… got his own kind of charm."
Jason glanced over at the sulking figure with snowy white hair and skin so pale it practically shimmered in the sun. "Charm, huh? Looks like someone's already charmed."
He nodded toward Atalanta, who was silently creeping up behind Cyd like a predator.
Heracles blinked. "She looks more like she's about to maul him."
Jason smirked and clapped Heracles on the back. "That's how you know she's interested."
Atalanta pounced.
"YOU!" she yelled, tackling Cyd from behind like a lion taking down a deer.
"MMMPHH—HELP—MMHHHH—"
Jason let out a low whistle. "Told you. Whether he's conquering or getting conquered… the guy's in for a ride."
"I think he just yelled 'help,'" Heracles said, squinting.
"Please," Jason rolled his eyes. "That's just how men flirt."
Below deck
"I don't know who you are," Cyd gasped, pinned under Atalanta with her knife at his throat, "but I swear, if you've got beef with some random white-haired guy, it's not me!"
"Oh, it's you," she said coolly, tightening her grip. "Only one white-haired weirdo I've met who got called the Moon's child."
"…Seriously? That's what this is about?"
Atalanta's green eyes narrowed. "Why would Artemis say that about a human?"
Cyd stared at her for a long moment, then rolled his eyes. "Okay, one, not my fault. Two, Artemis is weird. Three—"
He headbutted her.
"OW!"
Atalanta tumbled off him, clutching her forehead.
"Fourth," Cyd said, sitting up and rubbing his own skull, "maybe don't threaten people before asking them questions?"
She glared up at him. "You're a weakling."
He shrugged. "You just got knocked over by that weakling. Sooo…"
She growled, standing up and grabbing her dagger.
Cyd stayed sitting. "Look, I'm not trying to be your enemy. I didn't ask to be called the moon's kid. I didn't ask to be on this dumb boat. I was carried here against my will like someone's emotional support boulder."
Atalanta hesitated.
"…I just want to be ignored," he muttered, burying his face in his hands. "Can't we pretend I'm not here? Like, ever?"
"You know how many people would kill to be on this ship?" she said, voice sharp.
"I know I might be one of them soon if you don't calm down," he mumbled.
She paused, sighing. "I didn't join to make friends either. I want to prove myself."
"To who?" Cyd asked. "Yourself, or everyone else?"
She didn't answer.
Cyd stood, brushing off his shirt. "You do what you have to. But I'm not here for glory. I'm here because I'm stuck. And the second I get the chance… I'm gone."
"If you try to run," Atalanta said coldly, "I'll shoot an arrow through your skull."
Cyd blinked, deadpan. "See, that's why I don't make friends.