After Seducing and Abandoning Apollo [Greek Mythology] - Chapter 3
Chapter 3
“Daphne.”
She stopped and turned back, her face filled with pure, innocent surprise.
“Do you have any further commands, my lord?”
Apollo fell into an eerie silence. Daphne inexplicably felt that he was already regretting having called out to her. She blinked her lively, light-green eyes and held her tongue.
Whoever called the stop gets to speak first.
The lip line around the lips of Leto’s son tightened almost imperceptibly before he finally spoke: “There is another sweet, divine spring on this peninsula.”
Daphne froze for a second.
“Ah… are you referring to the Spring of Telphousa?”
Telphousa was a nymph of a neighboring land. She guarded a clear, sweet spring that served as both her dwelling place and the source of her power.
Perhaps the noble son of Zeus was not entirely familiar with the social etiquette between nymphs, so Daphne explained at an unhurried pace, “That spring belongs to Telphousa. I cannot presume to demand that she allow me to try and draw power from her origin. She took pity on my situation, so as compensation, she directed me here.”
Apollo’s eyebrows knitted together upon hearing this. When he wore such an expression, his imposing pressure mounted sharply, making Daphne’s heart skip a beat out of instinct. Only then did she grumble internally—she hadn’t said anything out of line, so why was this god displeased?
“She was the one who guided you to Delphi?” he asked once more to confirm.
Daphne looked a little bewildered.
“Yes…?”
To avoid appearing suspicious, she had used the same story with Telphousa about seeking a divine spring to cure her bodily ailment.
Naturally, that wasn’t her true objective, so when Telphousa refused to help “cure” her, she was neither surprised nor disappointed.
Yet Apollo was not done questioning: “Then did Telphousa not warn you that this place was the lair of the monstrous Python?”
“No—” Daphne’s eyes widened, and she promptly pressed her lips together, falling silent.
It finally registered with her—Telphousa was familiar with this land, so she should have known that the giant serpent lurked in the dense forest atop the coastal cliffs of Mount Parnassus.
In other words, Daphne had most likely been set up by her fellow nymph.
As the realization dawned on Daphne, her astonished expression caught Apollo’s eye. He seemed amused, displaying what could be called a smile for the very first time.
The subtle, teasing arc of his lips was shallow and vanished in a flash.
That tiny expression was like a thin crack, leaking a tiny trace of the vibrant, burning flame beneath the blonde god’s stern and distant mask. No matter how overbearing and naturally high-and-mighty he acted, the current Apollo was as young in experience as he was in appearance; he was still in the era of roaming about, performing miracles to gain fame and claim worship.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to Delphi to build a temple for delivering oracles.
Daphne suddenly developed a curious sense of amusement, like sitting back to watch a young boy trying hard to play the adult.
“You were deceived by Telphousa,” Apollo pointed out unceremoniously, his face stiffening once more.
Daphne parted her lips, wanting to defend herself, but found that there was really nothing to argue.
Not long after entering these woods, she had been attacked by the monster.
First came a harrowing fight for survival straight out of a B-movie, followed by the appearance of her mission target—the key to her very existence.
The rapid sequence of events had left her with zero bandwidth to ponder why she had encountered the giant python in the first place.
Besides, since coming to this world, Daphne had hardly met any danger prior to today. The children of the river god Ladon enjoyed harmonious relations, and the demigods or deities she encountered in Arcadia were all well-disposed toward her. When she left home and traveled along the way, she was lucky enough not to encounter any trouble, receiving help from many strangers instead.
All of this had lulled her into the mistaken belief that while this world was entirely different from her modern life, it was not particularly dangerous.
“The Spring of Telphousa is quite a distance from Delphi. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of the serpent…”
Under Apollo’s piercing gaze, Daphne’s voice trailed off, though she still persisted in finishing her thought, “…or perhaps she simply forgot to warn me.”
Apollo raised an eyebrow without a word, his expression practically screaming: Do you really think that’s possible?
Daphne preferred to think the best of others: “I just feel that, as a fellow nymph, Telphousa would have no reason to harbor malice toward me.”
The blonde deity’s lips twitched slightly, though he did not laugh as he had before.
Instead, he asked, “What do you plan to do?”
Daphne had not expected Apollo to ask for her thoughts.
Or was he testing her character? Before she set out, the river god Ladon had repeatedly reminded her that if she encountered unfamiliar deities—especially Olympian gods—she must strictly mind her words and actions.
Any misstep could anger an unpredictable god and bring down terrible punishment.
However, the opportunity to deepen their contact was right in front of her, and she could not let it slip away.
Judging from Apollo’s reaction just now, while this arrogant son of Zeus couldn’t be said to like her, he didn’t harbor any particular revulsion toward her either.
Especially after she exposed a flaw in her reasoning, his attitude had visibly softened.
Perhaps this touch of clumsiness was precisely the side of herself she should highlight to him.
It seemed that even gods enjoyed displaying their omniscience and omnipotence before the weaker sex.
“I want to seek confirmation from Telphousa. If she truly concealed the matter of Python on purpose, intending for me to become the serpent’s food…” Daphne stopped trying to suppress her instinctive awe toward an Olympian god, letting her voice tighten slightly while her sparkling eyes couldn’t hide an eager anticipation, “…radiant son of Leto, Apollo, would you be willing to act as a witness so that I may receive just compensation?”
She was already mentally preparing how to press her plea if he refused.
“Very well.”
Huh? Just like that?
Daphne was half a beat slow to react before joy instantly lit up her face.
A brief blankness seemed to wash over Apollo’s mind; he didn’t even know what he was thinking in that moment. Then he realized he was staring at a small smutch of mud on her cheek. The maiden’s face, the glow of delight, the stain—that repulsive, glaring stain—was like a misplayed note in a wonderful piece of music, stirring a strange turmoil within his chest.
Daphne felt like trembling under his suddenly intense gaze.
She was absolutely certain he had spotted something unpleasant on her face. The urgent desire to make that thing vanish made the dark-gold ring around Apollo’s pupils far more pronounced, and the divine pressure emanating from him surged abruptly.
For a moment, Daphne found it hard to breathe and nearly lost her footing.
She had the distinct feeling he might purge and destroy her right along with that eyesore.
Forcing her voice out, she broke the eerie and dangerous silence: “Well then…”
Apollo’s golden eyelashes fluttered like butterflies startled by the sound.
In the next instant, his gaze shifted away from her face, calm and unruffled once more.
“We go to Telphousa now,” he declared directly, dictating her route of action.
Almost simultaneously, shadows abruptly enveloped the forest clearing. Amidst the sounds of horses whinnying and wings flapping, a chariot pulled by two snow-white pegasi broke through the sky, swift and light as birds.
Since touching the ground would consume the pegasi’s vitality to summon spring waters, they hovered an arm’s length above the earth, waiting quietly for their master to board.
This was Daphne’s first time seeing such a mythical creature with her own eyes. After all, only Olympian gods residing above the cloud layers rode in chariots pulled by winged horses. She was somewhat mesmerized: the snow-white horses possessed strong, beautifully sculpted limbs and necks, clear eyes, and flawless, handsome wings half-folded submissively before their master, with the tips of their pristine feathers shimmering with a mother-of-pearl sheen.
By the time Daphne snapped back to reality, Apollo was already standing on the chariot, looking down at her: “Do you intend to walk there on foot?”
“…”
She instinctively took half a step forward. But before leaping onto the two-wheeled chariot, her gaze swept over her feet, then her arms, fingers, and skirt. The fur and wings of the pegasi were dazzlingly white, whereas she… she had nearly forgotten what a mess she was right now. She couldn’t ride with Apollo reeking of serpent blood; their relationship was nowhere near close enough for him to overlook the revulsion brought by grime.
Otherwise, it would certainly leave a deep impression on him—the kind that docked points all the way into the negative.
“I cannot soil your chariot.”
The blonde, green-eyed nymph suddenly grew quiet and obedient. She turned her face up toward him, her voice crisp and her expression calm.
Apollo frowned. He couldn’t tell which side he disliked more: Daphne’s meek, respectful mask or her wild, untamed true self.
“You are about to build a temple in Delphi, so naturally I cannot pollute the spring here with serpent’s blood, nor can I trouble you to wait. Fortunately, I run very fast, so it won’t take long to reach Telphousa. I won’t keep you waiting.”
Without waiting for Apollo’s answer, Daphne dashed off like a flash.
She indeed ran fast, nimble as a startled deer, her figure blurring deep into the green shade in the blink of an eye.
The hand Apollo had raised slightly fell back to his side, his fingers instinctively clenching the empty air before letting go immediately.
Both he and his twin sister Artemis possessed the divine authority of healing and purification. A certain facet of their power could bring down divine plagues that claimed the fragile, fleeting lives of mortals, while their true divine forms naturally repelled pollution and evil.
This nymph at least possessed a bit of self-awareness.
Did he really intend to pull a creature that filthy directly onto his chariot?
Madness. Truly.
