The Captain went away to the Ancient Land of Ilyria! Nobody of the crew noticed it initially, as they were profoundly distracted by a strange light—perhaps a mere illusion, or an *Irrlicht* dancing over the marshy grounds.

The crew was utterly astonished when the Captain suddenly returned. Without saying a single word or even casting a glance at any crewmember, he retreated straight into his golden yurt. Soon, news arrived that the Captain had taken some strange, flying form of transportation for his journey—whispers spoke of something resembling the legendary Golden Fleece.

He had passed through the lands of the Ilyrians, and remarkably, no bad news reached anyone's ears. Some claimed he was simply relaxing on those ancient Adriatic shores, but one wretch—a heavily drunken woman—told the crew that the Captain was actually conducting some mysterious side business there. However, nothing out of the ordinary happened in the days following his return. The Captain simply emerged for his smoking rituals, and otherwise sat quietly in the confined space of his yurt.

As the time arrived to pay the crew for the month, they felt deeply unsure about their wages. But what could they do? Without a ship, how could they possibly stage a mutiny? The mighty Argo was still anchored far away in the ancient port of Liubice, while the crew found themselves waiting helplessly by the swamp.

Perhaps, according to the rumors spread by a local fortune teller, the Captain was still hurt by some unseen emotional blow. While standing outside, one could observe him losing a single tear, just once every day. He would hold his heart, his sight dark and grim against the horizon. Yet, he remained steadfastly silent.