Because of Alaric's presence, calamity continued to follow the Argonauts wherever they went.
After leaving the island of Lemnos, the Argo sailed past the coast of Roiteon, through Dardania, and then toward Abydos.
From there, they passed the beaches of Percote and Abarnis and the sacred land of Pituea, before finally braving the roaring whirlpools of the Hellespont.
The next place they arrived at was the land ruled by Kyzikos of the Dolionians, whose people welcomed the Argonauts warmly and treated them as honored guests.
However, on the very night the Argo set sail again, a violent storm blew up and drove the heroes back to the Dolionian shore.
The night was pitch-black, one couldn't even see their own hand.
Mistaking the returning heroes for raiders, the Dolionians immediately launched an attack, and so a fierce battle erupted in the darkness.
Ordinary men were no match for the heroes of the Argo, the Dolionians fell one after another.
At least, that was how it should have gone.
But Alaric, ever the agent of chaos, secretly cast a large-scale Power of the Wild spell, on the Dolionians' side.
Instantly, the Dolionians' strength surged.
The Argonauts, on the other hand, were still weakened from their earlier "activities" with the women of Lemnos, their stamina and vigor not yet fully recovered.
The balance shifted, and the overwhelming victory that should have been theirs turned into a hard-fought struggle.
Even so, the Argonauts were still the Argonauts.
In the end, they won.
Many Dolionian warriors fell, and even their king perished beneath Jason's spear.
But unlike the original tale, this victory came at a price.
Two Argonauts were slain in the battle, an insignificant number compared to fifty men, perhaps, but to the rest, it was a heavy blow.
To Alaric, however, it was good news.
Two might not be many, but it was a start. The journey was still long, and there would be more opportunities to come.
The Argonauts themselves felt deep remorse for what had happened. To have mistakenly slain those who had so recently shown them hospitality weighed heavily upon them.
Thus, even though they had lost comrades, they bore no hatred toward the Dolionians, only grief and self-blame, cursing the cruelty of fate itself.
They stayed for several days, mourning their dead alongside the Dolionians before finally setting sail again.
Their next destination was the land of Mysia.
According to Alaric's knowledge, this was where one of the Argonauts, Heracles, was destined to leave the expedition.
His foster son, Hylas, famed for his beauty, was said to have been abducted by local nymphs, and Heracles departed to search for him.
In the original myth, that was why Heracles did not complete the Argonauts' voyage and instead returned to continue his Twelve Labors.
Behind this, Alaric suspected, was divine intent, for Heracles was simply too strong, and the gods had no wish for him to overshadow the others at Colchis.
But this time, things were different. The Argonauts' voyage now served Alaric's greater plan, to weaken the power of the Mystra Academy.
Whether Heracles would still leave the Argo as destiny once decreed was uncertain.
Still, Alaric wasn't worried. If the gods wouldn't make him go, Alaric would.
It would be a shame, after all, for a hero like Heracles to end his journey in disgrace on Colchis.
And the means? Naturally, the same as before, through Hylas.
Even if the nymphs of this world didn't act on their own, Alaric had the favor of Aphrodite herself.
When the heroes disembarked, Alaric used a True Simulacrum spell to create a convincing illusion of himself waiting by the shore, while his real body, hidden beneath an Ultimate Invisibility, silently followed Hylas.
Hylas, carrying a bronze jar, wandered off in search of fresh water, hoping to fill it before Heracles returned so he could prepare his foster father's meal.
Soon, he reached a nearby spring called Pegas by the locals.
Though Hylas was Heracles' foster son and a warrior of the Argo, trained in combat and possessing fine physique, that was the limit of his abilities.
He had honed his body, not his mind.
A warrior like him might surpass a mage in raw strength, but he lacked the magical senses that could detect danger, something Alaric excelled at.
Hidden by his spell, Alaric sensed what Hylas could not: the presence lurking within the spring, the water nymphs.
These nymphs had long dwelled along this charming coastline, often singing and dancing beneath the moon, their songs honoring Artemis at night.
But today, they were not at their usual haunts on the peaks and glades.
Instead, they hid beneath the surface of the spring, watching Hylas with flushed cheeks, enchanted by the boy's beauty and gentle grace.
With his delicate features and youthful charm, Hylas could easily have possessed the "Beautiful Youth" trait were he to become a Heroic Spirit. It was only natural for nymphs to be captivated by him.
From his hidden vantage point, Alaric watched the scene unfold.
The nymphs gazed longingly at Hylas, their faces red, their eyes hungry, yet none dared to act.
Normally, these woodland and river spirits were notorious for their impulsive lust, when a handsome mortal passed by, they would not hesitate to seize him for their pleasure.
But tonight, they restrained themselves.
Alaric edged closer, and their murmurs reached his ears:
"That little one… he's so handsome…"
"I want to hold him, I just want to touch his face."
"So cute… why won't the gods let us take him?"
"We can only watch? How sad…"
Alaric even saw one of them, unable to bear her desire, quietly soothing herself as she stared at the boy.
Shameless creatures, he thought, amused.
Yet their hesitation confirmed what he suspected, the gods of Olympus had explicitly forbidden them to act.
So, the gods truly meant to alter fate to keep Heracles from leaving?
That was fine. Alaric would simply adjust their resolve.
As Aphrodite's chosen, Alaric was not merely her follower, his bond with the goddess of love and beauty was deeper than that of any priest.
Even without prayer or invocation, he could channel her divine magic as easily as breathing.
The legendary spell Plague Unleashed had once been an expression of that divine power.
Now, he employed another, but this time, a subtler one: the Mass Suggestion spell, a sixth-circle enchantment.
Even at that level, in Alaric's hands and empowered by Aphrodite's grace, it was more than enough to sway these demi-divine nymphs.
Their resistance melted away.
Already smitten, the nymphs could no longer heed Olympus' command. Desire eclipsed restraint; hearts raced, breaths quickened.
As Hylas leaned over the spring to fill his jar, a dozen sapphire arms reached up from the depths, looping around his neck and drawing him closer, closer still, until, with a startled cry, he tumbled into the shimmering water.
The nymphs moved swiftly beneath the surface, and in an instant, the beautiful youth vanished into the depths, carried away by their eager embrace.
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