After an intense "battle," people often fall into a peculiar state, as if achieving some grand epiphany.
Though Morpheus never experienced such exhaustion, always brimming with energy, the two women who fought alongside him weren't so resilient.
His hand gently caressed the tender skin of one of the girls, savoring this rare moment of closeness.
"I should've stayed off the Argo. There's no privacy at all…" Artemis grumbled discontentedly.
Morpheus smiled. "It's fine. If my guess is right, they'll linger here for a while... three or four days, probably."
"Three or four days?!" Medea exclaimed, shocked. "Are they practically moving in?"
"Almost," Morpheus nodded. "If Heracles hadn't dragged them back, they might've partied every night."
"Do they even remember the adventure? Especially Jason... does he still care about his mission?!" Medea huffed, visibly annoyed.
Morpheus traced a finger down her back, eliciting a cute yelp like a cat's meow. He teased, "They're heading to your father's place. Isn't it better if they take their time?"
"But they seem so spineless!" Medea pouted. "Though it's none of my business. I'm just here for fun!"
She paused, thinking. "Besides, we'll need to find a way to give them the Golden Fleece. If we don't, it'll cause big trouble. Their lineage... descendants of gods or tied to them... makes it risky. Even if my father keeps the Fleece this time, the gods will find another way to take it. They might even get annoyed with him if it's too much hassle.
"So, handing it over quickly is the best choice!"
Medea's analysis was spot-on. Though the gods orchestrated the retrieval of the Golden Fleece, repeated attempts could breed frustration. There was no reward... just returning a human's lifespan to normal.
For now, they were amicable, but too many tries might make them want to "throw the controller," like a gamer fed up with a grueling task.
"No worries. I can step in to help them, since I disrupted their original plan," Morpheus said.
Medea looked at him curiously. "What was the original plan?"
He gazed at her silently. She blinked, then pointed at herself. "Me?!"
"Yup, you."
"Wait, why would I help them?!" Medea gasped, shaking her head. "No way! My father has a fiery temper. He adores me, but he's terrifying when angry... everyone in the family fears him! I'm not risking his wrath to help them!"
"But you did help them."
"Did I see through the gods' plan and decide to help them so my father wouldn't cling to an unnatural lifespan?" Medea mused, smirking proudly. "That's plausible. Am I not brilliant?"
Morpheus chuckled, keeping the truth to himself.
If he told her the real reason, Medea might be furious enough to kill Jason.
To protect Jason from a fate not yet realized, Morpheus decided to guard the secret tightly.
Artemis glanced at Medea, then at Morpheus. Though unaware of the future, she gleaned something from his reaction.
As a goddess, she knew what the gods might do. Based on Morpheus's reticence, she had a hunch.
"Perhaps in a future without Morpheus, Aphrodite manipulated Medea to help Jason get the Fleece. Her mental control could make someone willingly die for another.
"Morpheus's reluctance to speak means it's something bad for Medea. If she betrayed her father due to Aphrodite's influence, her future must have been tragic…
"But the future's changed now. My own future's likely altered too. I can tell from Apollo's words... he must've seen another path for me, which is why he's so pleased with Morpheus.
"Though he'd never tell me what that future was. He always hides things that might harm us, bearing the burden alone."
Artemis sighed softly.
Morpheus's voice broke her thoughts. "Artemis, you're worried about that girl?"
"Girl? She's older than you, isn't she?" Artemis replied.
Medea chimed in, "Yeah, Atalanta's older than you!"
Morpheus smiled, unbothered. Adding up his three lifetimes, he'd be in his forties or fifties by now. But each reincarnation started young, keeping his mindset youthful.
Still, that didn't stop him from calling Atalanta a "girl."
"You're right," Artemis said. "That child prays to me constantly, sharing everything as if I'm her confidante. It's strange but endearing. I love hearing her talk, watching her grow, form her own ideas, and become an adult.
"Her love for children stems from not wanting them to suffer like she did... abandoned by her father in the wilderness. If I hadn't sent a she-bear to raise her, she'd have died.
"I have a premonition. Though I watch over her, her future won't be bright. Gods can't directly interfere with mortals' choices. I can only guide subtly, not act outright…
"I don't know why I feel this, but it lingers. It must be insight from my connection to the Root, though it's vague until the time comes."
Artemis poured out her worries for Atalanta, like a mother fretting over a child she couldn't directly help.
Morpheus asked, "Did you ask your brother?"
"I did," Artemis replied, shaking her head. "Apollo wouldn't tell me what's wrong, but his expression confirmed it's not good."
Morpheus knew Atalanta's future wasn't bright. Determined to remain unwed, she faced relentless suitors. In this wild era, men's boldness clashed with her disdain for such aggression, leaving few who could win her respect.
Even Heracles, whom she saw as a good and capable man, was merely a comrade, not a romantic prospect.
Pressured by her father, who had abandoned her, to marry, Atalanta devised a deadly contest: whoever outran her could wed her; losers would die.
It seemed harsh, but it was meant to deter suitors... a race to scare them off.
Yet, many men, underestimating her as a woman, challenged her and lost their lives.
As Morpheus saw it, while Atalanta's stakes were high, those who knowingly entered a life-or-death contest had only themselves to blame.
But one man, praying to the gods, received three golden apples from Aphrodite. With their aid, he cheated to outrun Atalanta, winning her hand.
That should've been the end, but the man, despite owing his victory to Aphrodite, forgot to thank her, incurring her wrath.
To punish him, Aphrodite lured the couple to a god's temple, where they succumbed to passion. Offended, the temple's god... accounts vary on which one in the Nasuverse... turned them into lions.
The specific god didn't matter. Knowing the story, Morpheus gently stroked Artemis's hair. "Leave this problem to me. I'll handle it for you."
Artemis beamed, hugging him tightly, her softness pressing against him, stirring his senses.
"Thank you, Morpheus!"
Her voice brimmed with joy.
***
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