𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 ! ━ 𝙋. 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎𝙊𝙉

xi.

𖤓

There were many words, adjectives, and nouns alike that could describe Marcel. People never hid what they thought about him. He got called many things, but one of them would stay the only unchangeable fact in the ever-changing world - he was an avid overthinker.

He thought constantly. There wasn't a second when his brain would shut down with deafening silence. Jumping from one idea to another was an everyday experience. He could thank his ADHD for that.

So of course his last few days were spent thinking about what Polyphemus' Island looked like.

Whenever his brain jumped back to the island where he was supposed to find the Golden Fleece, his thoughts were simple. He associated Cyclopses mostly with forges. He expected noise, traps, and a secret room to hide the Fleece, so it couldn't be stolen by anyone.

What he didn't expect was a place that could probably be a monstrous Bahamas.

Green fields of shrubbery and trees dominated his vision. Even from the Queen Anne's Revenge, he could see the vivid colors of orchids sprouting from the lower parts of trunks. Powdery white beaches nicely contrasted with the turquoise waters surrounding the island.

The only obviously ominous thing there was the rope bridge hanging across a chasm.

The air got sweeter and sweeter with every passing minute they sailed toward the shore.

Annabeth was the first one to break their awe-struck silence. She took a deep breath of the fragrant air, "The Fleece."

The boys nodded.

The whole utopia-like island was clearly affected by something powerful. No land could be this perfect.

It was obvious the Fleece was somewhere there. Not so far from their reach. The idyllic aura of this place made their task seem... easy. Too easy.

"If we take it away," Percy finally spoke up, "will the island die?"

Marcel frowned. It would be sad to see such a beautiful place simply wither, as if it never mattered.

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

He felt guilty about ruining this paradise, but they had no choice. Camp Half-Blood was in trouble. Everyone counted on them to return with the Fleece. The job must be done.

In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge. As in: could go on a wrestling match with hippos, and probably win.

He grimaced. That was a scary thought, to be honest.

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 the massive oak tree. Something gold glittered in its branches.

"This is too easy," Marcel muttered. "No way in hell we can just hike up there and take it."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "There's supposed to be a guardian. A dragon or..."

That's when 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.