In the center of Colchis 
in an enchanted garden,

the hide of a mystical flying ram 
hung from the tallest oak,

guarded by a dragon who never slept.

Jason would have to tread carefully 
to pry it from King Aeetes’ clutches

and win back his promised throne.

But diplomacy was hardly 
one of the Argonauts’ strengths.

Jason would have to navigate 
this difficult task alone.

Or so he thought.

Leaving most of his bedraggled crew 
to rest,

Jason made for the palace with some 
of his more even-tempered men.

His first instinct was to simply ask 
the king for his prized possession.

But Aeetes was enraged 
at the hero’s presumption.

If this outsider wanted his treasure,

he would have to prove his worth 
by facing three perilous tasks.

The trials would begin the following day, 
and Jason was dismissed to prepare.

But another member of the royal family 
was also plotting something.

Thanks to the encouragement 
of Jason’s guardians on Mount Olympus,

Medea, princess of Colchis 
and priestess of the witch goddess Hecate,

had fallen in love with the challenger.

She intended to protect her beloved 
from her father’s tricks — at any cost.

After a sleepless night, Jason 
somberly marched to the castle—

but was intercepted.

The princess armed him 
with strange vials and trinkets,

in exchange for a promise 
of eternal devotion.

As they whispered 
and planned their victory,

both hero and princess fell deeply 
under each other’s spell.

Unaware of his daughter’s scheming,

the king confidently led Jason 
to face his first task.

The hero was brought 
to a huge field of oxen

that lay between him and the fleece,

and told that he had to plough the land 
around the crowds of oxen.

A simple task— or so Jason thought.

But Medea had concocted 
a fire-proof ointment,

and so he plowed the flickering fields 
unscathed.

For the second task,

he was given a box of serpent’s teeth 
to plant into the scorched earth.

As soon as Jason scattered them, each seed
sprouted into a bloodthirsty warrior.

They burst up around him, 
barricading his way forward,

but Medea had prepared him 
for this task as well.

Hurling a heavy stone she had given him 
into their midst,

the fighters turned on themselves 
as they scrabbled for it,

letting him slip by the fray.

For the third task,

Jason was finally face to face 
with the guardian of the Fleece.

Dodging sharp claws and singeing breath,

Jason scrambled up the tree 
and sprinkled a sweet-smelling concoction

over the dragon.

As the strains of Medea’s incantations 
reached its ears

and the potion settled in its eyes, 
the dragon sank into a deep sleep.

Elated, Jason climbed 
to the top of the tallest oak,

where he slipped the gleaming fleece 
off its branch.

When the king saw the hero 
sprinting away—

not only with the fleece, 
but his daughter in tow—

he realized he had been betrayed.

Furious, he sent an army 
led by his son Absyrtus

to bring the ill-gotten prize 
and his conniving daughter home.

But all the players in this tale 
had underestimated the viciousness

of these disgraced lovers.

To the horror of the Gods, Jason ran 
his sword through Absyrtus in cold blood.

Medea then helped him scatter pieces 
of the body along the shore,

distracting her grieving father 
while the Argonauts escaped.

As Colchis and their pursuers 
grew smaller on the horizon,

a solemn silence fell aboard the Argo.

Jason could now return 
to Thessaly victorious—

but his terrible act 
had tarnished his crew’s honor,

and turned the Gods against them.

Buffeted by hostile winds,

the wretched crew washed up 
on the island of Circe the sorceress.

Medea begged her aunt 
to absolve them of wrongdoing—

but bloody deeds 
are not so easily forgotten,

and fallen heroes 
not so rapidly redeemed.