12 Phaeton and Apollo

CHAPTER 12 Phaeton and Apollo The palace of Apollo, the sun god, was radiant. It shone with gold, gleamed with ivory, and sparkled with jewels. Everything in it flashed, glowed, and glittered. It was always high noon. Darkness and night were unknown there. Very few gods and mortals could bear the brightness. Most mortals had never been there. One day, a young boy named Phaeton dared to approach Apollo's palace. The boy had a very important question to ask the sun

god. On his way, Phaeton had to stop many times to cover his eyes. But he had decided that he must come face-to-face with Apollo. Phaeton finally arrived at Apollo's palace. He burst through the heavy doors into the throne room. There sat Apollo the sun god. The god was surrounded by a blazing light. Phaeton was forced to stop. The light was blinding. "Why are you here, my boy?" Apollo asked kindly. "I have come to ask you a very important question." Phaeton took a small step forward. "Are you my true father?" he asked. "My mother said that you were. But the other boys at school laugh at me when I say that I am your son. They will not believe me. When I told that to my mother, she told me to go ask you!" Smiling, Apollo took off his crown of

burning light. He wanted Phaeton to be able to look at him directly. "Come here, Phaeton," Apollo called. "You are my son. Your mother told you the truth. I will give you proof. Ask anything you want from me and you shall have it, I promise. And gods must always keep their promises," Apollo told him. Phaeton had often watched the sun god throughout the day. Apollo rode through the sky on his fiery chariot. This excited and amazed Phaeton. He always wondered what it would be like to drive that chariot. What was it like to guide the noble horses? What would it be like to bring light to the world? "Father!" he cried. "I choose to drive your chariot. Just for one day. Let me have your chariot," Phaeton begged. At once, Apollo realized he had made a big mistake.

"My dear boy—" Apollo began, shaking his head. "It is the only thing I want, Father," Phaeton interrupted. "And this is the only thing I would refuse you," Apollo answered. "You promised," Phaeton reminded him. "Listen to me, Phaeton," Apollo said. "It is too dangerous. You are half mortal. No mortal can drive my chariot. No god can drive it, either, except for me. Even Zeus, the ruler of the gods, cannot drive my chariot." "But, Father—" Phaeton started to say. "Consider the road, my son. It rises up from the sea so steeply. Even the horses can hardly climb it. In the middle of the sky, the road is so high. Even I do not like to look toward the ground. Worst of all is the way back down. It is so dangerous that Poseidon

wonders how I do not fall out of my chariot and into the waters," Apollo explained. "I don't care," Phaeton pouted. "I want to drive the chariot. It's all I want." "Guiding the horses is almost impossible," Apollo added. "Their fiery spirits grow hotter as they climb. I can barely control them myself. Be reasonable, Phaeton. How could you drive the chariot when I can hardly do it? Please do not ask me to grant this wish. "Do you think there are wonders and beautiful things at the end of the sun's road? Is that why you want to drive the chariot?" Apollo wanted to know. "There aren't. You have to pass fierce, dangerous beasts. The Bull, the Lion, the Scorpion, the great Crab —each one of them will try to harm you. "My son, I would give you anything else in the world. Choose anything else and I will make it yours," Apollo said.

Apollo's words were not heard. Phaeton saw himself proudly standing in that chariot. He saw himself guiding those fiery horses that even Zeus could not control. He didn't care about the dangers his father had described. He was not afraid. "You promised," Phaeton said. Apollo grew silent. It was hopeless. Phaeton would not change his mind. "If you will not change your mind, we must hurry," Apollo said. "It is almost time." The gates of the East glowed purple. Dawn had appeared, full of rosy light. The stars were just leaving the sky. The morning star was growing dim. The Seasons stood at the gates, waiting to open them. Apollo's horses had already been tied to the chariot. They were waiting for their driver. And they were not patient. With pride and joy, Phaeton climbed into