Greek mythology
11. Apollo and Daphne
In the sacred caves of Delphi, Python, the great serpent, received a terrifying vision.
Through the mists of prophecy, he saw a golden-haired child, born of Zeus and Leto, who would pierce his scales with arrows of light.
This child would claim his oracle, his sacred place, as his own. Python's massive coils trembled with the weight of this knowledge. Determined to prevent this fate, Python slithered across the lands of Greece, searching for the pregnant Leto.
His enormous body cast shadows over villages and forests as he hunted. The scent of divinity led him to her, but Zeus had prepared for his coming. As Python approached Leto, Zeus's thunderbolts illuminated the sky. Boreas, the North Wind, swept in with icy fury, creating a wall of storm between Python and his prey. Divine protection surrounded Leto like a golden shield, forcing Python to retreat.
Defeated, Python returned to his sacred cave in Delphi. The weight of inevitability pressed upon his ancient heart. His beloved wife Pythia waited in their sanctuary, her eyes filled with knowing sadness as he approached.
In the halls of Mount Olympus, young Apollo, radiant with divine power, learned of his mother's suffering. Leto told him of how Python, the great serpent, had hunted her relentlessly before his birth, forcing her to flee across land and sea. Apollo's golden eyes blazed with righteous fury as he heard of Python's cruelty to his mother.
Apollo forged one thousand arrows in divine fire, each shaft burning with celestial light. His golden bow, a gift from Hephaestus, hummed with power as he prepared for his quest. As dawn broke, he descended from Olympus, his radiance casting long shadows across the land. Apollo strode through Greece, his feet barely touching the earth.
The land itself seemed to bow before his presence, and mortals hid in awe as he passed.
The sacred slopes of Delphi rose before him, shrouded in prophetic mists where Python dwelled. Python emerged from his cave, his massive coils blocking out the sun. Apollo's arrows flew with unerring accuracy, each shaft finding its mark in the monster's scales. The battle shook the mountain, Python's roars of pain echoing across the valley as hundreds of arrows of light pierced his ancient hide. With the thousandth arrow, Apollo struck Python's heart.
The great serpent fell, his body dissolving into the sacred earth of Delphi. Apollo claimed the oracle as his own, transforming the cave into his most sacred temple. Thus began the reign of the Pythian Apollo, god of prophecy and light.
After Python's fall, Apollo found Pythia mourning in the depths of the sacred cave. Though she had been Python's wife, her gift of prophecy and pure spirit caught Apollo's divine attention. In her grief, she emanated a wisdom that transcended her serpentine nature.
Apollo, moved by Pythia's nobility in grief, reached a decision that would shape the future of prophecy. Standing before her, his divine light growing gentle, he offered her a choice: transformation into human form and a sacred role as his high priestess. Through Apollo's divine power, Pythia's serpentine form began to change. Golden light enveloped her as scales transformed to skin, her ancient wisdom preserved in human form. She emerged as a woman of profound dignity, her eyes still holding the depths of prophetic sight.
Apollo led the transformed Pythia to a golden tripod within the temple's inner sanctum. He blessed her as his oracle, bestowing upon her the power to channel divine prophecies.
The cave itself seemed to resonate with the new order, ancient stones gleaming with renewed purpose. As Apollo assumed his role as god of prophecy, Pythia took her place as the voice of Delphi. Together, they established the most famous oracle of the ancient world. From her seat upon the golden tripod, Pythia would speak Apollo's divine wisdom to all who sought guidance, from kings to common folk.
However, fresh from his victory over Python, Apollo strode through Olympus with unprecedented arrogance. His golden bow gleamed at his shoulder, each step radiating pride in his achievement. When he came upon young Eros practicing with his bow in a sacred grove, his lips curled into a contemptuous smile.
"Little love god," Apollo sneered, his voice carrying across the grove,
"Why do you play with such powerful weapons? This bow is meant for true warriors like myself, who slay monsters and earn glory. Your arrows may spark love, but they cannot achieve the great deeds that mine have accomplished."
Eros's childlike features darkened with rage. The young god's fingers tightened around his bow, his quiver containing the fateful golden and leaden arrows that could inspire love or repulsion. With divine precision, Eros selected two arrows from his quiver: one of pure gold to kindle undying love, and one of dull lead to inspire endless repulsion. His cherubic face masked a cunning worthy of the gods as he spotted the beautiful nymph Daphne in the distance.
In a flash of divine movement, Eros loosed his arrows with perfect aim. The golden shaft struck Apollo's heart, filling him with overwhelming desire for Daphne, while the leaden arrow pierced the nymph's breast, instilling in her an insurmountable revulsion for the sun god.
Eros smiled at his handiwork, having proved that love's power could humble even the mighty Apollo.
Daphne, most beautiful among the nymphs, had pledged herself to Artemis's service, swearing an oath of eternal chastity.
She spent her days in the sacred forests, hunting with her divine mistress, her heart content in the freedom of the wild. Struck by Eros's golden arrow, Apollo first glimpsed Daphne during a hunt. The sun god's heart burst with immediate, overwhelming love.
His divine radiance intensified with passion as he watched her move through the forest with the grace of a deer.
Yet Daphne, touched by the leaden arrow, felt only revulsion at his golden presence. When Apollo first saw Daphne, he was struck by her beauty and instantly fell in love. He began to pursue her, driven by an uncontrollable desire to make her his own.
Apollo called out to Daphne, asking her to stop and listen to him, but she continued to run away. The memory of her sacred vow to Artemis gave her strength to resist even this most splendid of gods. Daphne fled like the wind itself, her feet barely touching the forest floor. Apollo pursued, his divine passion making him relentless. Through valleys and over streams she ran, her hair streaming behind her like a banner of resistance. Other nymphs watched in terror as the sun god himself chased their sister.
Daphne felt Apollo's burning presence drawing ever closer, his divine warmth like a scorching wind at her back. Her breath came in gasps, her strength beginning to fade, yet her resolve remained unbroken. She would rather face any fate than break her vow to Artemis or submit to Apollo's unwanted advances. As Apollo gained on her, Daphne grew more desperate and called out to her father, the river god Peneus, for help.
Exhausted and desperate, Daphne cried out to her father, the river god Peneus.
"If rivers truly have divine power, destroy this beauty that causes me such torment! Let me be free of this body that draws such unwanted attention!"
As Apollo's fingers nearly touched her hair, a heavy numbness seized Daphne's limbs. Her soft skin hardened into rough bark, her hair transformed into leaves, and her arms grew into branches. She became a laurel tree, her feet rooting deep into the earth, forever beyond Apollo's reach.
Standing before the freshly transformed laurel tree, Apollo's heart filled with profound sorrow. He gently touched the rough bark that had moments ago been Daphne's soft skin.
In his grief, Apollo declared that the laurel tree would be sacred to him and that he would wear its leaves as a crown.
He also promised that Daphne, now a tree, would forever remain green and her leaves would never wither. With reverent care, Apollo gathered the most beautiful branches of the laurel tree. His divine hands wove them into a circular crown, each leaf perfectly placed.
As he placed it upon his own golden head, the leaves seemed to shimmer with newfound purpose. Apollo then took his beloved lyre, the instrument of divine music, and lovingly adorned it with laurel leaves. As he played the first notes, the leaves seemed to tremble in harmony, adding their own subtle music to his melody.
From that day forward, Apollo declared that all great achievements would be crowned with laurel wreaths. Poets, warriors, and leaders would wear Daphne's leaves as symbols of their triumph, ensuring that her beauty and Apollo's love would be remembered through the ages.
Ps. Because Greco-Roman mythology contains many versions of the same story of the same character, the story you see in Roy's Box may not be the story you know. In Roy's Box, we list the full episodes in chronological order, and where possible, we've adapted non-contradictory versions.