Three weeks sailing towards the end of the world. Those on the ship had grown tired of each other. Heracles spent the days drinking all of their wine. Azeus and Phyleus spent the days loudly exploring the bodies of one another. Abderus had nearly drowned on three occasions attempting to run on water, but he momentarily succeeded in his fourth attempt and would not stop recalling the story. Everyone had watched it. Iolaus was quickly becoming a philosopher and no one wished to have their minds examined.

It was a blessing when the ship landed on Mygdon, home of King Mygdon, who had renamed the island after himself. Each man quickly went off in different directions promising to return to the ship in three days time. Azeus and Phyleus chose to bathe in the hot springs. Iolaus would visit the schools, curious of their education. Abderus would find the athletes and compete. Heracles made his way to the epicenter of town, an ongoing commotion. He had hoped for a fight, but when he arrived he only saw a court trial.

"What was that commotion not long ago," Heracles asked to one of the witnesses.

"Trial by combat. Nobody defeats the King's man. If you choose trial by combat, you are guilty. Only seeking a miracle as a trial will mean death," the man explained.

"Heracles," a name called out to him. "Heracles," it called again and he followed the voice.

There in a cell alongside several other men stood Lycus. An old friend of Heracles who had shared weapons, wins and women with Heracles years ago. He had vanished, and been missed but no one seemed to have a clue. But here he was, without a scratch on him. Some bruising, but that likely came from his arrest at the hand of King Mygdon's men.

"How did you end up hear," Heracles asked, skipping the greetings.

"My mother is from this land. I came to free it from Mygdon's rule. I was captured two days ago. My trial is up next," Lycus bowed his head in shame.

"Then I shall fight as your champion. Lift your head," Heracles stated.

The time came for Lycus trial and he requested a trial by combat. The crowd cheered ready for another fight. King Mygdon laughed as he introduced his undefeated champion. A man much small than Heracles. No taller than the average man, yet thin as the most petite woman. When the fight began, swords were given to both men.

He danced around Heracles, swiping and stabbing, always seeming to keep him off guard. Heracles stabbed at the man, always missing. He swung the sword down and only hit the stone in the plaza. The man was fast, not godly fast. If it were a straight line, Heracles would win a race. But the way he darted and flipped about caused problems.

Heracles crafted a plan. He held out his sword and began to spin. He spun like a dangerous and bladed top. It didn't take long before the man was cornered. He surrendered, not wanting to be cut in half by Heracles. Heracles stopped his spinning and flung the sword at King Mygdon, removing his head from his shoulders. Heracles dizzily made his way over as the crowd gasped, he grasped the crown and placed it upon Lycus' head.

"He is your king," Heracles declared. There were cheers, who were they to challenge him?

"Then the island shall be called Heraclea," Lycus declared.

When Heracles returned to the ship he came accompanied by more men and supplies. His exploits had already reached the rest of his companions. Even in a place like this Heracles had found a way to make himself legendary.

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