The ways of the gods are mysterious indeed, and mortals are but motes caught in the gales of their fickle whims. Dragged into a judgement of the fairest between the goddesses Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, Paris of Troy did not realize just what kind of storm would ensue when he handed the golden apple marking the winner to Aphrodite. He might have started to realize when Aphrodite stole Helen, demi-goddess and widely agreed to be the most beautiful woman in the known world, to be his bride as reward for his good judgement. Or when he realized that she was already married, to King Menelaus of Sparta, also known as the one city-state most devoted to martial arts and warfare. Or perhaps when he realized the oath sworn by everyone that had petitioned to marry the most beautiful woman in the world, to defend anyone that tried to cheat her father's decision of who she would marry. Being the most beautiful woman in the known world, that was approximately every single vaguely important of-age man on that side of the Aegean Sea. Who were now honor bound to go put their many differences aside, and go attempt to retrieve Menelaeus's prize of a wife from the villain that had her now. That being, naturally, Paris. It didn't help that the two goddesses proclaimed to be not the fairest, Hera and Athena, also had reason to be very, very upset with Paris. Those being the queen of the pantheon of the gods themselves, and the goddess of knowledge, wisdom, and a smattering of warfare, respectively.
Suffice to say, quite a storm of shit was about to ensue, with lots of the meddling of the divine, and lots of blood and battle and many chances for dashing young men to prove their valor and heroism in what would no doubt be a very one sided war that would be over in a year at most, certainly. Maybe two.
Complicating this for any dashing young men looking to make some kind of name for themselves, apparently Hera holds grudges about one's choice in friends. She would not like any friend of the recently deceased Herakles, especially not one that is as... himself as this man is, to gain glory and fame and have anything to do with any war that she means to win. He is summarily bitten by a snake. On the ankle, so he would have time to think about his mistakes. Like not immediately renouncing all loyalty to the dead bastard son of Zeus and throwing the bow and arrows that were a keepsake from him into the sea the minute he saw Hera's instrument of wrath. Maybe then she'd have spared him.
Well, this man's comrades have decided not to make the same mistake. At the wise counsel of Odysseus of Ithaca, they summarily dumped the young man on the nearest available uninhabited island, to sort out his divine snakebite problem on his own and not drag his fellows down with his clearly cursed nature. They were kind enough to leave him the bow and ten arrows of Herakles, since he was so attached to them, and since they want absolutely nothing to do with anything that might upset Hera. Nonetheless, this likely wouldn't feel like much of a kindness, to someone waking up from a drugged stupor, watching the ship that once held him sail off into the horizon without so much as a parting word or apology.