ᥴꪮ𝘴ꪑꪮ𝘴 ➪ 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 [𝟷]

☀︎︎

⚢

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍
𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜

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Tʜᴇ ʙᴏᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛs way to the island, and the trio prepped for battle. Polaris would admit, the island wasn't what she expected. She was imagining craggy rocks an bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.

The Cyclops island looked like it could be on a post card from the Caribbean. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches. Okay, there was a rope bridge across a chasm, but other than that, Polaris would live here. Only if it was Cyclops-free, though.

As they made their way closer, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The fleece," she said.

Percy and Polaris nodded. They couldn't see it, but it was so powerful they could feel it. "If we take it away, will the island die?"

Annabeth shrugged. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."

Polaris felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, but it quickly faded the more she remembered about the circumstances.

In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge- the size of hippos. Just past them was a path that led up into the hills. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was a massive oak tree that Percy looked like he recognized. Something gold glittered in its branches.

"This is too easy," Percy said. "We could just hike up there and take it?"

Polaris was deep in thought. This seemed too easy to be the peak of their quest. There was something more to the myth of the golden fleece that she couldn't remember. Maybe a guardian?

Polaris must've right, because Annabeth was equally suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. "There's supposed to be a guardian. A dragon or . . ."

"A dragon?" Polaris asked, suddenly much more nervous. "If there's a dragon, we need to wait until sunset."

"What?" Percy demanded. "We'll fight better in the day."

"Not me, I-"

A deer emerged from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.

Grass and tufts of fur flew in the air.

A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.