You lift your face to the sky. And smile. The sun is warm today. The breeze is cool and gentle, carrying the sweet smell of summer to your nose. Your sisters dance and play around you, their peals of laughter echoing through the valley.
Your father, Ladon, the river god, watches over you with a cautious eye. Both he and you know very well that the supreme and diving Zeus loved to take unattended nymphs such as yourself for his brides. Neither you nor Ladon care for that idea.
You are loyal to the lady Artemis, anyhow. But that did not mean you wanted Ladon watching you at all hours of the day. You take advantage of the first opportunity the Fates offer you: your sister trips and falls. Ladon rushes to examine her. You slip away.
You sing as you dance through the trees. Freedom. You love the feel of your skirt swirling around you, the wind playing gently with your hair, the brightly-colored fruits and leaves swinging above your head.
You see a boy with wings in a branch near you, watching you with glimmering eyes. You stop to stare. Then you curtsy. He is Eros, the royal son of Lady Aphrodite and Lord Ares. You do not like the way he grins at you, twirling a golden arrow in his fingers. But he disappears before you can walk away.
You resume your dancing. The mossy ground feels like velvet under your bare feet. You decide to visit an old friend, Adelpha. She lived only a hill or two away from your home, and you had not seen her in a few decades. Perhaps she would be happy to see you.
So you make your way to Adelpha's home. But when you part the bushes and step into the clearing, Adelpha is nowhere to be seen. Only a man. He turns as the leaves rustle.
He is beautiful, yes, with golden hair and blue eyes, but you dislike how his eyes pore over your face. He glows with a faint light. You curtsy to him briefly, your eyes lowered. "Lord Apollo."
"Daphne, is it?" He seems to be testing your name on his lips. He taps his chin.
"Yes, lord," you say. Your feet itch to leave, but you know you cannot simply abandon a god in the forest. "Is there anything you…need?" You hate that you have to ask the question. Apollo, god of music, light, reason, and medicine, had taken more than his fair share of brides from your rank of sisters.
"Yes," he says to your displeasure. "I am here to honor you, Daphne. I have watched you from the palace on Olympus. You are very beautiful."
You eye him. "Thank you, lord." You do not attempt to conceal the loathing in your voice.
The god seems hurt. "Lovely Daphne, I am only here to please you. To see your smile is all I wish. I love you."
You frown instead. "I thank you for your affection, Lord Apollo, but I am loyal to none other than your sister, the lady Artemis." You catch a glimpse of Eros, giggling in the trees, as you turn away. Apollo catches your arm. His touch is gentle, but his grip is firm.
His eyes are blazing when you look back at him. "I love you, Daphne," he repeats.
You tear you arm out of his hand and run. Eros's laughter follows you tantalizingly as you flee blindly through the trees, branches tugging at your body, leaves whipping your face, trees flashing by you quickly. You hear Apollo shouting behind you to come back, he loves you, he only wants to love you. But that scares you all the more. Your feet speed up.
You scream as he flashes in front of you, catching you in his arms when you crash into him. He seems confused. "Why are you running?"
"Let me go!" you shout. You kick and shove him away, running as fast as you can.
"Father!" you scream.
Ladon's head snaps up from his river. "Daphne!"
"Daphne, come back!" Apollo shouts.
"Away from my daughter, you filthy Olympian!" Ladon roars. "Quickly, Daphne!"
You run faster, but so does Apollo. His hands reach for you, his fingers inches from your shoulder. "Father, save me!" you scream.
You are a foot from the banks. As your bare toes touch the sand, you suddenly cannot move. You look down. Your toes—Ladon has turned them to roots. Your arms are suddenly heavy and numb. You cannot move them. A thin bark grows around you, swallowing you in darkness. Relief floods you as that bark begins to close around your face. You are safe.
"Daphne!" Apollo screams.
Though your eyes no longer see, you know Apollo is gently breaking twigs from your branches, fashioning a wreath from the leaves.
"You are my sacred tree, my love," his voice reaches you even inside your haven.
The last thing you feel is Apollo's arms closing around you, the rough bark of the tree encasing you holding him off. Your heart beats rapidly within the tree.
"I will always love you, Daphne."
