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[apollo-aegletus]

APOLLO - EPITHETS

Ækáærgos - (hecaergus; Gr. ἑκάεργος, ΕΚΑΕΡΓΟΣ) he who works from afar. 2. Pythagorean word for the number nine.

Ækativælǽtis - (hecatebeletes; Gr. ἑκατηβελέτης, ΕΚΑΤΗΒΕΛΕΤΗΣ. Literally, shooting a hundred.) - hitting the mark at will.

Ækativólos - (hecatebolos; Gr. ἑκατηβόλος, ΕΚΑΤΗΒΟΛΟΣ) - hitting the mark at will. Cf. Ækáærgos and Ækativælǽtis.

Ækatómvaios - (hecatombaeus; Gr. ἑκατόμβαιος, ΕΚΑΤΟΜΒΑΙΟΣ) he to whom the ækatómvi (hekatomb; Gr. ἑκατόμβη) (a sacrifice of 100 cattle or oxen) is offered.

Ǽkatos - (hecatos; Gr. ἕκατος, ΕΚΑΤΟΣ. Shorted form of ἑκατηβόλος.) hitting the mark at will.

Ækivólos - (hecebolus; ἑκηβόλος, ΕΚΗΒΟΛΟΣ) he who attains his aim (with his arrows). (Orphic Hymn 34.6)

Ælæléfs - (eleleus; Gr. ἐλελεύς, ΕΛΕΛΕΥΣ. From ἐλελελεῦ, a war-cry.) he who utters a war cry.

Æmvásios - (embasius; Gr. ἐμβάσιος, ΕΜΒΑΣΙΟΣ) he who blesses those who embark on journeys.

Ǽnolmos - (enolmus; Gr. ἔνολμος, ΕΝΟΛΜΟΣ) sitting on the tripod.

Æpikourios - (epicurius; Gr. ἐπικούριος, ΕΠΙΚΟΥΡΙΟΣ) assistant.

Æpidílios - (Epidelius; Gr. Επιδήλιος, ΕΠΙΔΗΛΙΟΣ. Spartan word.) born in Dílos (Delos; Gr. Δήλος).

Æpivatírios - (epibaterius; Gr. ἐπιβατήριος, ΕΠΙΒΑΤΗΡΙΟΣ) seafaring. Diomídis (Diomede; Gr. Διομήδης), having escaped a storm while returning from Tría (Troy; Gr. Τροία), dedicated a temple at Trizín (Troezen; Gr. Τροιζήν) to Apóllohn under this name.

Ærázmios - (erasmius; Gr. ἐράσμιος, ΕΡΑΣΜΙΟΣ) lovely, beloved. (Orphic Hymn 34.5)

Ævdomayænís - (hebdomagenes; Gr. ἑβδομᾱγενής, ΕΒΔΟΜΑΓΕΝΗΣ. Etym. ἑβδομάς = seven.) born on the seventh day [of the month].

Ævdómeios - (hebdomeios; Gr. ἑβδόμἑιος, ΕΒΔΟΜΕΙΟΣ. Etym. ἑβδομάς = seven.) worshipped on the seventh day. Cf. Ævdomayænís.

Aglaótimos - (aglaotimus; Gr. ἀγλαότιμος, ΑΓΛΑΟΤΙΜΟΣ) he who is splendidly honored. (Orphic Hymn 34.2)

Agnós - (hagnos; Gr. ἁγνός, ΑΓΝΟΣ) holy, pure. (Orphic Hymn 34.7)

Agréfs - (agreus; Gr. ἀγρεύς, ΑΓΡΕΥΣ. Also ἀγραῖος) hunter.

Ágrios - (agrius; Gr. ἄγριος, ΑΓΡΙΟΣ) wild. (Orphic Hymn 34.5)

Aiglítis - (aegletes; Gr. αἰγλήτης, ΑΙΓΛΗΤΗΣ) the radiant one.

Aiyíptios - (Aegyptius; Gr. Αἰγύπτιος, ΑΙΓΥΠΤΙΟΣ. Aiyíptios simply means Egyptian.) Aiyíptios as an epithet of Apóllohn is the Egyptian God Horus, the son of Osiris and Isis, who some equate with Apóllohn.

Akærsækómis - (acersecomes; Gr. ἀκερσεκόμης, ΑΚΕΡΣΕΚΟΜΗΣ) with uncut hair, meaning that the God is forever young. Greek boys kept their hair long until they became men.

Akǽsios - (acesius; Gr. ἀκέσιος, ΑΚΕΣΙΟΣ) healing.

Akrítas - (Acritas; Gr. ἀκρίτας, ΑΚΡΙΤΑΣ) the tall or mighty one, or because of his temple in Sparta situated at a great height.

Alæxíkakos - (alexicacus; Gr. ἀλεξίκακος, ΑΛΕΞΙΚΑΚΟΣ) he who diverts calamity and plague.

Alaios - (alaeus; Gr. ἀλαίος, ΑΛΑΙΟΣ) wanderer, perhaps in reference to the founding of cities. (Ἀπολλόδωρος Epitome 6.15b)

Amazónios - (Amazonius; Gr. Ἀμαζόνιος, ΑΜΑΖΟΝΙΟΣ) surname of Apóllohn in Λακεδαίμων (Παυσανίας 3.25.3)

Amyklaios - (Amyclaeus; Gr. Ἀμυκλαῖος, ΑΜΥΚΛΑΙΟΣ) from Ἀμύκλαι, a city of Λακωνία. At the famous sanctuary in this place was a temple housing a colossal statue of the God forty-five feet tall (30 cubits). (Παυσανίας 3.19.2)

Amphrýssios - (Amphryssius; Gr. Ἀμφρύσσιος, ΑΜΦΡΥΣΣΙΟΣ) Amphrýssios is an epithet of Apóllohn derived from the name of the river Amphrýssos (Amphryssus; Gr. Αμφρύσσως) in Thæssalía (Thessaly; Gr. Θεσσαλία). Here the God had been sentenced by Zefs (Zeus; Gr. Ζεύς) to tend the flocks of Ádmitos (Admetus; Gr. Ἄδμητος), King of Phærai (Pherae; Gr. Φεραί), for having killed Dælphýni (Delphyne; Gr. Δελφύνη) [or the Cyclops]. (Καλλίμαχος Εἰς Ἀπόλλωνα 48)

Anaphaios - (Anaphaeus; Gr. Ἀναφαίος, ΑΝΑΦΑΙΟΣ) surname of Apóllohn after an island in the Cretan sea, Anáphi (Anaphe; Gr. Ἀνάφη), which Apóllohn made appear, (ἀνέφηνεν, “he made appear”) from the light of an arrow, to the Argonáftai (Argonauts; Gr. Ἀργοναῦται) as shelter from a storm. (Ἀπολλώνιος Ῥόδιος Ἀργοναυτικά 4.1717)

Ánax - (Gr. Ἄναξ, ΑΝΑΞ) Apóllohn is Ánax, a true king. Apóllohn is the ambassador of the Olympian Gods of the Solar System and as such, he is on the level of the Zefs of our system and thereby worthy the title Ánax.

Apǽllon - (Apellon; Gr. Ἀπέλλων, ΑΠΕΛΛΩΝ) Apǽllon is the Doric spelling of Apóllohn.

Aphítohr - (aphetor; Gr. ἀφήτωρ, ΑΦΗΤΩΡ) archer.

Áploun - (Gr. Ἄπλουν, ΑΠΛΟΥΝ) Áploun is the Thessalian spelling of Apóllohn. Cf. Aplous.

Aplous - (Gr. Ἁπλοῦς, ΑΠΛΟΥΣ) = Apóllohn, variation of Ἄπλουν. Cf. Áploun.

Apóllohn - (Apollo; Gr. Ἀπόλλων, ΑΠΟΛΛΩΝ) Apóllohn is his most common name.

Apóllohnos - (Apollonos; Gr. Ἀπόλλωνος, ΑΠΟΛΛΩΝΟΣ) Greek genitive case of Apóllohn, as in the title to his Orphic hymn; most titles in ancient Greek are in the genitive case.

Apotrópaios - (apotropaeus; Gr. ἀποτρόπαιος, ΑΠΟΤΡΟΠΑΙΟΣ) averting evil.

Arótrios - (arotrius; Gr. ἀρότριος, ΑΡΟΤΡΙΟΣ) he who blesses those who farm and pasture.

Aryirótoxos - (argurotoxus; Gr. ἀργυρότοξος, ΑΡΓΥΡΟΤΟΞΟΣ) bearer of the silver bow.

Ayiéfs - (aguieus; Gr. ἀγυιεύς, ΑΓΥΙΕΥΣ. Pron. ah-yee-EFS) guardian of streets and roadways.

Dælphikós - (Delphicus; Gr. Δελφικός, ΔΕΛΦΙΚΟΣ) he who presides over the temple at Dælphí (Delphi; Gr. Δελφοί), this epithet being derived from Δελφύνη, a name for the Pýthohn (Python; Gr. Πύθων) which he slew at Dælphí. (Orphic Hymn 34.4). Cf. Dælphínios.

Dælphínios - (Delphinius; Gr. Δελφίνιος, ΔΕΛΦΙΝΙΟΣ) of the dolphin, surname of Apóllohn, who assumed the shape of a dolphin. (Homeric Hymn III to Pythian Apóllohn beginning at 388.) Another possible meaning of the epithet is Dælphic, he who presides over the temple at Dælphí (Delphi; Gr. Δελφοί), Δελφύνη being a name for the Pýthohn (Python; Gr. Πύθων) which he slew at Dælphí. Cf. Dælphikós.

Daphnaios - (daphnaeus; Gr. δαφναῖος, ΔΑΦΝΑΙΟΣ) from δάφνῃ, the word for bay laurel (Laurus nobilis), sacred to the God, from the myth of Dáphni who was transformed into the tree as in the famous myth.

Daphniphóros - (daphnephoros; Gr. δαφνηφόρος, ΔΑΦΝΗΦΟΡΟΣ) he who carries the branches of laurel.

Didymaios - (Didymaeus; Gr. Διδυμαῖος, ΔΙΔΥΜΑΙΟΣ) after his temple at Dídyma (Didyma; Gr. Δίδυμα), a location near Mílitos (Miletus; Gr. Μíλητος) (Orphic Hymn 34.7) Cf. Didyméfs.

Didyméfs - (Didymeus; Gr. Διδυμεύς, ΔΙΔΥΜΕΥΣ) (Orphic Hymn 34.7) - so named because he is δίδυμος, a twin. - referring to a place-name, Dídyma (Didyma; Gr. Δίδυμα), a location near Mílitos (Miletus; Gr. Μíλητος) where resided an oracle of the God. - Cf. Didymaios.

Dikǽros - (Dicerus; Gr. Δικέρως, ΔΙΚΕΡΩΣ) Dikǽros is an epithet meaning two-horned, applied to Diónysos (Orphic Hymn 30.3) and Apóllohn (Orphic Hymn 34.25), or to any God, for all true Gods have “horns.” This phenomena of the Gods is a vast effusion of Aithír (Aether; Gr. Αἰθήρ) which flows from their heads and which appears as something like horns; thus, in iconography, horned animals are symbolic of divinity.

Dílios - (Delios; Gr. Δήλιος, ΔΗΛΙΟΣ) referring to the place of his birth.

Dílios Ánax - (Delios Anax; Gr. Δήλιος Ἄναξ, ΔΗΛΙΟΣ ΑΝΑΞ) king of Dílos (Delos; Gr. Δῆλος), the place of his birth. (Orphic Hymn 34.8)

Dromaios - (Dromaeus; Gr. δρομαῖος, ΔΡΟΜΑΙΟΣ) swift, epithet denoting patronage of the races.

Efpharǽtris - (eupharetres; Gr. εὐφαρέτρης, ΕΥΦΑΡΕΤΡΗΣ) possessing a beautiful quiver (case for holding arrows).

Ekativælǽtis - (ecatebeletes; Gr. ἑκατηβελέτης, ΕΚΑΤΗΒΕΛΕΤΗΣ) far-darting.

Evrypharǽtris - (eurypharetres; Gr. εὐρυφαρέτρης, ΕΥΡΥΦΑΡΕΤΡΗΣ) with wide quiver.

Exakæstírios - (exacesterius; Gr. ἐξακεστήριος, ΕΞΑΚΕΣΤΗΡΙΟΣ) he who averts evil.

Galáxios - (Galaxius; Gr. Γαλάξιος, ΓΑΛΑΞΙΟΣ) name for the God at the festival of Galaxía (Γαλαξία).

Grýneios - (Gryneus; Gr. Γρύνειος, ΓΡΥΝΕΙΟΣ) from Grýneion (Gr. Γρύνιον) the Aeolic city near Kými (Cyme; Gr. Κύμη) where was an oracle of the God.

Horus - Horus, the Egyptian God, son of Osiris and Isis, is frequently equated with Apóllohn.

Iatrós - (Gr. ἰατρός, ΙΑΤΡΟΣ) healer, physician.

Iíïos - (Iéïos; Gr. ἰήϊος, ΙΗΙΟΣ. Pronounced: ee-EE-ee-os) invoked with the cry ἰή or ἰὴ παιών..

Kǽrdous - (Cerdous; Gr. κέρδους, ΚΕΡΔΟΥΣ) the beneficial or fruitful one.

Kárneios - (Carneus or Carneius; Gr. Κάρνειος, ΚΑΡΝΕΙΟΣ) the special Apóllohn of the Dorians and Spartans.

Kharopiós - (charopoius; Gr. χαροποιός, ΧΑΡΟΠΟΙΟΣ) he who brings joy. (Orphic Hymn 34.6)

Khrysáoros - (chrysaorus; Gr. χρυσάορος, ΧΡΥΣΑΟΡΟΣ; masc. and fem. adj. = χρυσάωρ.) he who wields a golden sword.

Khrismohdós - (chresmodos; Gr. χρησμῳδός, ΧΡΗΣΜΩΔΟΣ. Adjective.) oracular.

Khrysokómis - (chrysokomes; Gr. χρυσοκόμης, ΧΡΥΣΟΚΟΜΗΣ) golden-haired. (Orphic Hymn 34.9)

Khrysolýris - (chrysolyres; Gr. χρυσολύρης, ΧΡΥΣΟΛΥΡΗΣ) he who plays the golden lyre.

Khrysótoxos - (chrysotoxus; Gr. χρυσότοξος, ΧΡΥΣΟΤΟΞΟΣ) with bow of gold.

Kitharohdós (Citharede; Gr. κιθαρῳδός, ΚΙΘΑΡΩΔΟΣ) A kitharohdós is a professional singer who also played the kithára (cithara; Gr. κιθάρα), an ancient type of lyre.

Klários - (Clarius; Gr. Κλάριος, ΚΛΑΡΙΟΣ) from Kláros (Claros; Gr. Κλάρος), a famous oracular sanctuary near the Ionian city of Kolophóhn (Colophon; Gr. Κολοφών).

Kohmaios - (comaeus; Gr. κωμαῖος, ΚΩΜΑΙΟΣ) epithet of the God used at the Egyptian city of Náfkratis (Naucratis; Gr. Ναύκρατις),

Kourotróphos - (courotrophus; Gr. κουροτρόφος, ΚΟΥΡΟΤΡΟΦΟΣ) nurturer of children.

Kourídios - (couridios; Gr. κουρίδιος, ΔΟΥΡΙΔΙΟΣ) Kourídios is an epithet of Apóllohn in Lakohnía (Laconia; Gr. Λακωνία), this according to Isýkhios (Hesychius; Gr. Ἡσύχιος). The word is connected with nuptial things and refers to the rightful wedded partner of someone, so the meaning may be something like Apóllohn the legitimate husband or suitable partner (of Lakohnía?).

Kozmoplókos - (cosmoplocus; Gr. κοσμοπλόκος, ΚΟΣΜΟΠΛΟΚΟΣ) he who holds together the world.

Kýdimos Kouros - (cydimus kouros; Gr. κύδιμος κοῦρος, ΚΥΔΙΜΟΣ ΚΟΥΡΟΣ) renowned son (of Zefs). (Orphic Hymn 34.5)

Kýnthios - (Cynthius; Gr. Κύνθιος, ΚΥΝΘΙΟΣ) from Mount Kýnthos (Cynthus; Gr. Κύνθος) in Dílos (Delos; Gr. Δήλος).

Kýrios Orkhísæohs - (Cyrius Orcheseos; Gr. Κύριος Ὀρχήσεως, ΚΥΡΙΟΣ ΟΡΧΗΣΕΩΣ) As leader of the Mousai (Μουσαγέτης), Apóllohn is the Lord of the Dance. It is interesting to note that in the modern world of ballet, as it has been since its inception in the Renaissance, Apóllohn is acknowledged as such and his statue is on top of several of the ballet theaters, such as the Bolshoi.

Kýros Aisthísæohn - (Cyrus Aestheseon; Gr. Κύρος Αἰσθήσεων, ΚΥΡΟΣ ΑΙΣΘΗΣΕΩΝ) Lord of Feeling, Lord of Sensation. When mortals feel (ψαύω), we are often overwhelmed by our sensations, and our senses (αἰσθήσεις) are crippled by the defensiveness of ego, but Apóllohn is completely open and feeling, and the master of what he feels and the natural geometry of sensation.

Læskhinórios - (leschenorius; Gr. λεσχηνόριος, ΛΕΣΧΗΝΟΡΙΟΣ) guardian of the meeting-halls (λέσχαι).

Límios - (loimius; Gr. λοίμιος, ΛΟΙΜΙΟΣ) Apóllohn was given this title as a God of healing at Líndos (Lindus; Gr. Λίνδος), a city of Ródos (Rhodes; Gr. Ῥόδος) (Macr.Sat.1.17.15).

Loxías - (Gr. Λοξίας, ΛΟΞΙΑΣ) the great oracle of his father Zefs (Zeus; Gr. Ζεύς). (Orphic Hymn 34.7)

Lykaios - (lycaeus; Gr. λυκαῖος, ΛΥΚΑΙΟΣ) destroyer of wolves.

Lýkeios - (lyceius; Gr. λύκειος, ΛΥΚΕΙΟΣ. Etym. λυ “light” + ειος “birth.”) born of light. Another frequent translation is wolf-God, λύκος being the word for wolf.

Lýkios - (Lycius; Gr. Λύκιος, ΛΥΚΙΟΣ) from the oracular sanctuary at Lykía (Lycia; Gr. Λυκία).

Lykiyænís - (Lycegenes; Gr. Λυκηγενής) born of light.

Lykohréfs - (Lycoreus; Gr. Λυκωρεύς, ΛΥΚΩΡΕΥΣ) from Lykóhreia (Lycoreia; Gr. Λυκώρεια), the highest summit of Parnassós (Parnassus; Gr. Παρνασσός) above Dælphí (Delphi; Gr. Δελφοί). (Orphic Hymn 34.1)

Lykoktónos – (lycoctonus; Gr. λυκοκτόνος, ΛΥΚΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ) the slayer of wolves.

Lýkos - (Gr. λύκος, ΛΥΚΟΣ) The Lýkos is the wolf, a symbol of Apóllohn’s power. Wolves are usually seen at the break of dawn; therefore, the wolf is symbolic of the coming light, for which this animal is known as an Æöhsphóros (Eosphoros; Gr. Εωσφόρος), a herald of the light of the dawn.

Mælioukhos týrannæ - (Gr. μελιοῦχος τύραννε, ΜΕΛΙΟΥΧΟΣ ΤΥΡΑΝΝΕ) he who rules with sweetness.

Mákar - (Gr. μάκαρ, ΜΑΚΑΡ. Adj. masc. & fem. nom. sing.) Apóllohn is mákar, blessed and happy, as are all the Gods. (Orphic Hymn 34.1)

Malæátis. - (Maleates; Gr. Μαλεάτης, ΜΑΛΕΑΤΗΣ) title for the God used in his temple on the headland of Malǽa (Malea; Gr. Μαλέα) in southern Lakohnía (Laconia; Gr. Λακωνία). (Παυσανίας 3.12.7 and 2.27.7)

Malóeis - (Gr. Μαλόεις, ΜΑΛΟΕΙΣ) name for Apóllohn in Lǽsvos (Lesbos; Gr. Λέσβος). (Στέφανος Βυζάντιος)

Mæmphíta - (Memphita; Gr. Μεμφῖτα, ΜΕΜΦΙΤΑ) dweller of (Egyptian) Mǽmphis (Memphis; Gr. Μέμφις). (Orphic Hymn 34.2) The meaning of this epithet is obscure. Apóllohn is often equated with the Egyptian Horus who united upper and lower Egypt at Mǽmphis.

Mándis - (mantis; Gr. μάντις, ΜΑΝΤΙΣ. Feminine: μάντισσα) Apóllohn is the true mándis, the prophet, the seer. Apóllohn is the genuine mándis because he knows and speaks the mind of Zefs (Zeus; Gr. Ζεύς). (Orphic Hymn 34.4)

Mousarkhos - (Mousarchos; Gr. Μούσαρχος, ΜΟΥΣΑΡΧΟΣ) leader of the Mousai (Muses; Gr. Μοῦσαι), and, therefore, the fountain of all culture. Cf. Mousayǽtas.

Mousayǽtis - (Mousagetes; Gr. Μουσαγέτης, ΜΟΥΣΑΓΕΤΗΣ which is the Attic form. The Dorian form is Μουσαγέτας.) leader of the Mousai (Muses; Gr. Μοῦσαι), and, therefore, the fountain of all culture. (Orphic Hymn 34.6) Cf. Mousarkhos.

Myrikaios - (myricaeus; Gr. μυρικαῖος, ΜΥΡΙΚΑΙΟΣ) title used in Lǽsvos (Lesbos; Gr. Λέσβος). He holds a branch of myríki (myríki, tamarisk; Gr. μυρίκη), a symbol of divination, over which he presides.

Myriómorphos - (Gr. μυριόμορφος, ΜΥΡΙΟΜΟΡΦΟΣ) of myriad shapes.

Næomínios - (neomenius; Gr. νεομήνιος, ΝΕΟΜΙΝΙΟΣ) invoked at the commencement of every lunar month, at the new moon. Cf. Noumínios.

Nómios - (nomius; Gr. νόμιος, ΝΟΜΙΟΣ) of pastures and flocks, pastoral.

Noumínios - (noumenius; Gr. νουμήνιος, ΝΟΥΜΗΝΙΟΣ) invoked at the commencement of every lunar month, at the new moon. Cf. Næomínios.

Ohrohpaios - (Oropaeus; Gr. Ωρωπαῖος, ΩΡΩΠΑΙΟΣ) after the oracular shrine of Ohrohpós (Oropus; Gr. Ωρωπός) in Évvia (Euboea; Gr. Εύβοια).

Olviodóhtis - (olbiodotes; Gr. ὀλβιοδώτης, ΟΛΒΙΟΔΩΤΗΣ) he who fills our souls with bliss.

Órion - (horion or horios; Gr. ὅριον, ΟΡΙΟΝ. Also, ὅριος.) of boundaries.

Orthós Lógos - (Gr. Ὀρθός Λόγος) Apóllohn is the Orthós Lógos, the True Word, for he never lies. Ortyyía - (Ortygia; Gr. Ὀρτυγία, ΟΡΤΥΓΙΑ. Pronounced: or-tee-YEE-ah) Ortyyía is an old name for Dílos and is used as an epithet for both Apóllohn and Ártæmis.

Oyíyios - (Ogygius; Gr. Ὠγύγιος, ΩΓΥΓΙΟΣ. Pronounced: oh-YEE-yee-ohs) a name for the God in Attica, originally called Oyiyía (Ogygia; Gr. Ὠγυγία) after the king Oyíyis (Ogyges; Gr. Ὠγύγης).

Paián - (Paeon; Gr. Παιάν, ΠΑΙΑΝ. Pronounced pay-AHN.) physician, healer, savior, deliverer. Pan - (Gr. Ράν, ΠΑΝ) Apóllohn is called Pan in Orphic Hymn 34 at line 25.

Pandærkǽs Ómma - (Panderkes Omma; Gr. Πανδερκές Ὄμμα, ΠΑΝΔΕΡΚΕΣ ΟΜΜΑ) Apóllohn is the Pandærkǽs (all-seeing) Ómma (eye), the All-Seeing Eye which brings the light which shines on mortals. (Orphic Hymn 34.8)

Pandothalís - (pantothales; Gr. παντοθαλής, ΠΑΝΤΟΘΑΛΗΣ) he makes everything bloom. (Orphic Hymn 34.16)

Pangkratís - (pancrates; Gr. παγκρατής, ΠΑΓΚΡΑΤΗΣ. Adj.) all-powerful.

Parnópios (parnopius; Gr. παρνόπιος, ΠΑΡΝΟΠΙΟΣ) after the word for grasshopper, for he had saved Athens from an infestation of them. (Παυσανίας 1.24.8)

Pataréfs - (Patareus; Gr. Παταρεύς, ΠΑΤΑΡΕΥΣ) from his oracular temple at Pátara (Gr. Πάταρα), a town of Lykía (Lycia; Gr. Λυκία).

Patír - (Gr. πατήρ, ΠΑΤΗΡ. Noun.) Patír means father. All those who love Apóllohn may worship him as father. Cf. Patróös.

Patróös - (Gr. Απολλων Πατρῷος, ΑΠΟΛΛΩΝ ΠΑΤΡΩΟΣ. Adjective.) the fatherly one. More ancient still is Apóllohn patír (Gr. πατήρ), a noun. Apóllohn can be worshiped as father by anyone who loves him.

Phanaios - (phanaeus; Gr. φαναῖος, ΦΑΝΑΙΟΣ) he who brings light.

Philalǽxandros - (philalexandrus; Gr. φιλαλέξανδρος, ΦΙΛΑΛΕΞΑΝΔΡΟΣ) friend of Alǽxandros. Before the conquest of Týros (Tyre; Gr. Τύρος) it is said that Alǽxandros the Great (Gr. Ἀλέξανδρος ὁ Μέγας). (Alexander; Gr. Ἀλέξανδρος) removed golden chains which bound a statue of the God.

Philísios - (philesius; Gr. φιλήσιος, ΦΙΛΗΣΙΟΣ. Variant of φίλιος, friendly) amicable, affectionate.

Phílios - (philius; Gr. φίλιος, ΦΙΛΙΟΣ) amicable, affectionate. Cf. Philísios.

Phívos - (Phoebus, Phœbus, Phoibos; Gr. Φοίβος, ΦΟΙΒΟΣ) the bright one, the radiant one, expressive of splendor and brightness. This is the major epithet of Apóllohn. The God received the oracle at Dælphí (Delphi; Gr. Δελφοί) as a birthday present from the Titan Goddess Phívi (Phoebe; Gr. Φοίβη) and he was then known as Phívos Apóllohn. Apóllohn is the light of enlightenment who has governance over the natural law of Freedom and is by nature bright.

Phohsphóros Daimohn - (phosphorus daemon; Gr. φωσφόρος δαίμων, ΦΩΣΦΟΡΟΣ ΔΑΙΜΩΝ) light-bearing divinity. (Orphic Hymn 34.5)

Phýxios - (phyxius; Gr. φύξιος, ΦΥΞΙΟΣ) protector of fugitives.

Platanístios - (platanistius; Gr. πλατανίστιος, ΠΛΑΤΑΝΙΣΤΙΟΣ) of the plane tree, on account of all the plane trees growing around his temple at Ílis (Elis; Gr. Ἦλις) in the Pælopónnisos (Peloponnese; Gr. Πελοπόννησος).

Ploutodotír - (plutodoter; Gr. πλουτοδοτήρ, ΠΛΟΥΤΟΔΟΤΗΡ = πλουτοδότης.) giver of riches.

Prómantis – (Gr. πρόμαντις, ΠΡΟΜΑΝΤΙΣ) prophet.

Pröópsios - (proöpsius; Gr. προόψιος, ΠΡΟΟΨΙΟΣ) the foreseeing one.

Prophítis - (prophetes; Gr. προφήτης, ΠΡΟΦΗΤΗΣ) prophet of Zefs.

Prostatírios - (prostaterious; Gr. προστατήριος, ΠΡΟΣΤΑΤΗΡΙΟΣ) guardian.

Psykhodotír - (psychodoter; Gr. ψυχοδοτήρ, ΨΥΧΟΔΟΤΗΡ) giver of the soul.

Pýktis - (pyctes; Gr. πύκτης, ΠΥΚΤΗΣ) boxer, for defeating the robber Phórvas (Phorbas; Gr. Φόρβας).

Pythikós - (Pythicus; Gr. Πυθικός, ΠΥΘΙΚΟΣ. = Πύθιος.) Pythian.

Pýthios - (Pythius, Pythian; Gr. Πύθιος, ΠΥΘΙΟΣ) slayer of the Pythohn (Gr. Πύθων).

Pythoktónos - (Pythoctonus; Gr. Πυθοκτόνος, ΠΥΘΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ) the slayer of the Python. Cf. Pýthios and Pytholǽtis.

Pytholǽtis - (pytholetes; Gr. πυθολέτης, ΠΥΘΟΛΕΤΗΣ) dragon-slayer. Pythoktónos and Pýthios.

Sæmnós - (semnos; Gr. σεμνός, ΣΕΜΝΟΣ. σεμνός is masculine; σεμνή is feminine.) august, holy, revered.

Savroktónos - (sauroctonus; Gr. σαυροκτόνος, ΣΑΥΡΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ) The word savroktónos means lizard slayer. Praxitǽlis (Praxiteles; Gr. Πραξιτέλης), the great sculptor, created a famous statue of the God known as Savroktónos. Apóllohn rests his arm on a tree as he observes a lizard on its trunk. The symbolism is uncertain, some believing that the lizard represents the Python or that it simply represents pestilence which the God has the ability to conquer.

Sminthéfs - (sminthian or smintheus; Gr. σμινθεύς, ΣΜΙΝΘΕΥΣ) mouse-killer, presumably from his ability to destroy infestations of mice.

Sohtír - (soter; Gr. σωτήρ, ΣΩΤΗΡ) savior, deliverer, guardian.

Spærmeios - (spermeius; Gr. σπερμεῖος, ΣΠΕΡΜΕΙΟΣ) Apóllohn is spærmeios, he who presides over all of life’s generation.

Spilaitis - (spelaites; Gr. σπηλαῖτης, ΣΠΗΛΑΙΤΗΣ. ? Etym. σπήλαιον, “grotto.”) worshipped in grottos.

Spódios - (spodius; Gr. σπόδιος, ΣΠΟΔΙΟΣ) of the ashes (σποδός). Pafsanías speaks of a place in Viotía (Boeotia; Gr. Βοιωτία) where was an altar consisting of the ashes of victims sacrificed to the God.

Sympárædros - (symparedros; Gr. συμπάρεδρος, ΣΥΜΠΑΡΕΔΡΟΣ. To sit beside.) Apóllohn is sympárædros, joint-throne-holder with the Zefs of our Earthly system.

Tælǽstohr - (telestor; Gr. τελέστωρ, ΤΕΛΕΣΤΩΡ, poet. for τελεστής.) initiator or priest.

Tæmænítis - (temenites; Gr. τεμενίτης, ΤΕΜΕΝΙΤΗΣ) of the tǽmænos (Gr. τέμενος, religious area set apart).

Thæoxǣnios - (Theoxenius; Gr. Θεοξένιος, ΘΕΟΞΕΝΙΟΣ) from the Thæoxǽnia (Theoxenia; Gr. Θεοξένια) festival, celebrated in ancient Grecian cities to honor the God (and Ærmís).

Thǽrmios - (thermius; Gr. θέρμιος, ΘΕΡΜΙΟΣ) he who expresses warmth, referring to his dominion over the sun.

Thǽzmios - (thesmios; Gr. θέσμιος, ΘΕΣΜΙΟΣ; fem. and masc. nom.) the lawful or just one.

Thoraios - (thoraeus; Gr. θοραῖος, ΘΟΡΑΙΟΣ) of semen, from his ability to affect increase and fertility.

Thorátis - (thorates; Gr. θοράτης, ΘΟΡΑΤΗΣ. Etym. θορός, semen genitale.) generative.

Τιτάν - (Titan; Gr. Τιτάν, ΤΙΤΑΝ) Apóllohn (Orphic Hymn 34.3) and his sister Ártæmis (Orphic Hymn 36.2) are called Titánæs (Titans; Gr. Τιτᾶνες, plural.) because they are progeny of the Titan Goddess Litóh (Leto; Gr. Λητώ).

Tityoktónos - (Tityoctonus; Gr. Τιτυοκτόνος, ΤΙΤΥΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ. Pronounced: tee-tee-ok-TOH-nos.) Slayer of Tityós (Τιτυός), an epithet of both Apóllohn and his sister Ártæmis (Artemis; Gr. Ἄρτεμις). Tityós was a monstrous giant who attempted to rape Litóh (Leto; Gr. Λητώ), the mother of the twins, for which they slew him.

Toxophóros - (Gr. τοξοφόρος, ΤΟΞΟΦΟΡΟΣ) bearer of the bow.

Toxovǽlæmnos - (toxobelemnus; Gr. τοξοβέλεμνος, ΤΟΞΟΒΕΛΕΜΝΟΣ) he of the bow and arrows. (Orphic Hymn 34.6)

Vákkhos - (Bacchus; Gr. Βάκχος, ΒΑΚΧΟΣ) Apóllohn is called Vákkhos (Diónysos) in Orphic Hymn 34.7. The two half-brothers share the throne at the great sanctuary of Dælphí (Delphi; Gr. Δελφοί), the center of the ancient religion and the navel of the world. They together are the means by which Zefs (Zeus; Gr. Ζεύς) manifests himself in the world, for Apóllohn expresses his will and voice while Diónysos expresses his action on Earth.

Viodóhtis - (biodotes; Gr. βιοδώτης, ΒΙΟΔΩΤΗΣ) life-giver or giver of livelihood.

Voïdrómios - (boedromius; Gr. βοηδρόμιος ΒΟΗΔΡΟΜΙΟΣ) the helper in distress who runs to your aid.

Vrangkhídis - (Branchides; Gr. Βραγχίδης, ΒΡΑΓΧΙΔΗΣ) after the Vrangkhídai (Branchidae; Gr. Βραγχίδαι), the priests of Apóllohn Didymaios (Didymaeus; Gr. Διδυμαῖος) at the oracular sanctuary of Dídyma (Gr. Δίδυμα).

Yænǽtohr - (genetor; Gr. γενέτωρ, ΓΕΝΕΤΩΡ) Apóllohn yænǽtohr is the ancestor. There was in Dílos (Delos; Gr. Δήλος) an altar dedicated to Apóllohn yænǽtohr in which only bloodless offerings were allowed.

Ypæríohn - (Hyperion; Gr. Ὑπερίων, ΥΠΕΡΙΩΝ) While Ypæríohn is the Titan God of light, the son of Ouranos and Yaia, this name is sometimes applied to Apóllohn.

Ypærvóræos - (Hyperboreus; Gr. Ὑπερβόρεος, ΥΠΕΡΒΟΡΕΟΣ) - he who is worshiped by the Hyperboreans.

Zohstírios - (zosterius; Gr. ζωστήριος, ΖΩΣΤΗΡΙΟΣ) he who surrounds the world.

Zöógonos - (zoögonus; Gr. ζωόγονος, ΖΩΟΓΟΝΟΣ. Literally, producing animals.) generative.

SOURCE: http://www.hellenicgods.org/apollon-epithets

[apollo-aegletus]

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

[apollo-aegletus]

Tell me little brother, when the sun dies, does the moon mourn or die with him?

- excerpt of 8 Texts from Artemis, published in Sunchoked | r.m

[apollo-aegletus]

Truth’s Gleaming Sword || Eclipse

apollo-aegletus​:

There was no reason to wait. 

Apollo knew. His magic could not lie and now his father floundered, unable to hide anything with his careful composition cracked. The truth spilled through him, epiphany after epiphany flowing bright and clear. He saw his father’s fear. He saw his father’s planning. He saw how they were just chess pieces to him. There were moments of love, and affection, and regret– but they couldn’t redeem the rest, not all these years and all the pain.

Apollo felt like a fool, having stayed obedient so long. He had known himself to be a dog on a leash. But he’d let himself be house-trained. Why? 

The answer was easy.

Artemis.

Even now– for her, he hesitated, though his fingers curled around his father’s throat and forced him back against the bookshelf, hard enough that several books shook and fell with hard thumps. He hesitated, but didn’t look at his sister. Instead, his eyes tunneled into his father’s eyes.

“He won’t admit it!” Apollo snarled. 

“Apollo,” he wheezed. He reached up, his cool hand wrapping around Apollo’s wrist. His father’s eyes darted from Apollo to Artemis and back again. “It was…an accident…you must understand–”

“I understand! I’m in your head now, dear father.” Apollo shoved him back a second time. Another book toppled from the shelf as his father winced. “I see every lie.” 

“There’s more…more you can’t know…let me take you to the prophecy room myself.”

And again, Apollo hesitated. This had to be another lie, just another last-ditch attempt to save his own neck. There was nothing in the prophecy room. Callie had told them everything. The meaning was clear.

But he looked to his sister, his fingers loosening.

Then his vision turned red and his thoughts were not his own. 

There were not many times in one’s life where you could see the paths of Fate, when the magic fell like a blanket over you and you saw, if only a different decision was made, how different the outcome would be.

This day, there was no decision. There was only viciousness, a call for revenge, and an appetite for death. 

Artemis knew. She could feel this death in the air, thick as cloying incense. She had lived with death her entire life. It was not a fearful thing to her. Death was a companion in loneliness. Death was the inevitable. Today, it would be the inevitable for their father, but Artemis did not want her brother involved. Apollo was not the one who killed. He was gentle. A healer. He spoke kind words and wore smiles so beautiful that they blinded like the sun. His honey-gold skin invited you into its warmth. 

He was not a killer, though Artemis knew him capable of such things. She called to him, for she did not wish him to be the one to do this. At least, not alone, and especially not with all the information. 

She knew if she called, he’d answer.

Whenever she called, he always answered.

And he did this time, turning to look at her, his eyes the warm brown of damp wood. Shining like pools after a storm. Their gazes met and their conversation began: they did not need to touch. Their powers were unnecessary. Artemis looked into the pool of Apollo’s eyes and only saw herself.

The connection was broken a moment later in a flurry of shouting and limbs. Artemis drew her arrow back and let loose. “Brother!’ she shouted, aiming for their father’s head. The arrow missed, slamming into the spine of a book. 

Apollo twisted, pretty as a pirouette, then fell, blazing like a shooting star. 

Keep reading

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira​:

Truth’s Gleaming Sword || Eclipse

It all happened very fast, but it was exactly what Artemis was trained for. She was more than equipped to handle two beings behaving in an unpredictable manner. In combat, she was different, knowing that her targets may not follow a logical progression. Within the framework of a battle, Artemis was prepared and easily adaptable to attacks and offense.

However: this was her brother and her father, slamming against each other like claps of thunder.

She stood, stunned, watching in silence as Apollo and their father snarled like beasts. The beasts that she was meant to tame. This thought jolted her forward a step, intent on rescuing them both from themselves. 

And then, Apollo shouted:

You killed our mother.

The words struck Artemis like a blow to the chest. And not for the reasons one might think, but for a moment–

Artemis had thought Apollo was talking to her.

See, she had always wondered if their father was protecting them from something darker about themselves. It made little sense, considering Apollo had the power to reverse whatever damage it was that Artemis caused. He was her safety net and reassurance. Still, she wondered: is this why Father is so afraid?

It took a moment for the reality to click, as Apollo pounced on their father. 

It was Claudius who had killed their mother. Not bad, evil men looking to hurt Apollo and Artemis. Their beautiful mother. Gentle mother. Whom they knew nothing at all about, who was a feeling more than a memory because of an evil man. A man thirsty for power. 

Before she could think, an arrow was notched and she held her bow poised at him, unafraid of hitting Apollo–her aim was always true.

“Is this true?”

“Artemis,” choked Claudius.

“Is this true?” Artemis barked, her voice sharp and cutting. 

Claudius wheezed.

“Brother, let him answer for his crimes,” Artemis commanded, her gaze cool. “And then we will kill him.” 

There was no reason to wait. 

Apollo knew. His magic could not lie and now his father floundered, unable to hide anything with his careful composition cracked. The truth spilled through him, epiphany after epiphany flowing bright and clear. He saw his father’s fear. He saw his father’s planning. He saw how they were just chess pieces to him. There were moments of love, and affection, and regret-- but they couldn’t redeem the rest, not all these years and all the pain.

Apollo felt like a fool, having stayed obedient so long. He had known himself to be a dog on a leash. But he’d let himself be house-trained. Why? 

The answer was easy.

Artemis.

Even now-- for her, he hesitated, though his fingers curled around his father’s throat and forced him back against the bookshelf, hard enough that several books shook and fell with hard thumps. He hesitated, but didn’t look at his sister. Instead, his eyes tunneled into his father’s eyes.

“He won’t admit it!” Apollo snarled. 

“Apollo,” he wheezed. He reached up, his cool hand wrapping around Apollo’s wrist. His father’s eyes darted from Apollo to Artemis and back again. “It was...an accident...you must understand--”

“I understand! I’m in your head now, dear father.” Apollo shoved him back a second time. Another book toppled from the shelf as his father winced. “I see every lie.” 

“There’s more...more you can’t know...let me take you to the prophecy room myself.”

And again, Apollo hesitated. This had to be another lie, just another last-ditch attempt to save his own neck. There was nothing in the prophecy room. Callie had told them everything. The meaning was clear.

But he looked to his sister, his fingers loosening.

Then his vision turned red and his thoughts were not his own. 

His father twisted his hand. Apollo gasped-- shouted-- the room spun. His back hit the book shelf. Apollo reached for his father’s throat again but now his own magic worked against him. He couldn’t see past his father’s desires-- blood-red desires, desperation, thoughts all painted in blood. Escape, thought his father. He thought only of the door, and fleeing through it, leaving his children behind. 

“Artemis--!” Apollo cried out as his father spun him and drove him toward the desk--

Apollo’s foot slipped. His head cracked against the edge of the desk.

The pain was a sunburst, brilliant and white. It filled his vision and he was blind, and speechless, his father’s thoughts finally thrust from his mind. His whole life, the world had always been too full: full of colour, full of song, full of feeling both dark and light, both his own and not his own. For the first time, everything washed out. Apollo sunk into a blissfully white river and he floated. It was too easy. In the end, there was no fight at all-- Apollo welcomed this light, wholly himself.  

His hands slipped from his father’s body, warmth at the back of his head where blood bloomed in a rose. 

It was this warmth he sank into. 

[apollo-aegletus]

Don’t you know that you’re a lion Don’t you know you’re from the kingdom of the stars Been this way before the dinosaurs See yes it’s all in everyone Such a pretty young flower Open up and let your petals face the sun Once you blossom you can share the love Because you are the ancient one

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira​:

apollo-aegletus​:

Truth’s Gleaming Sword || Eclipse

Artemis rode on swift wings of vengeance. Her brother’s fury fueling her own. She was not one easily angered and she was not one to make rash decisions, but with every step they took, her fury grew. Her fury, which was bedfellows with her terror. Still, she followed it, pulled by that unseen chord–the one that had connected her to Apollo for her entire life. 

She would follow him over the edge of the earth.

The edge was not where they went, but stepped inside the veil between worlds. That space where the ghosts retreated finally. They had been hovering on her heel, murmuring of a fate unspooling itself. Taunting her as if her destiny was a guessing game.

Who will it be? Who, who, who?

Instead, it was silent as they walked along the marbled floors, which stretched out into every direction. The dimension cool and hard and white. It had always felt like absence to Artemis. Like what she imagined death was like. For it was here she executed. It was here she had been trained to remove herself from a mortal world, filled with green and beauty. 

The cool stone was a beauty in and of itself, but it was a lifeless beauty. A statue. A mimic of the real world. 

She kept her eyes fixed on her brother, who was a few steps ahead of her. They moved swift, though even their quiet tread echoed around the hall, the quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder jingling quietly. 

Their father was moving about like a bird in a tree, hopping from branch to branch to branch, twittering anxiously.

Had he always been so small? 

Artemis drew herself up. 

The movement paused as their father’s gaze flicked to her.

“Artemis,” he entreated, “my sweet girl.” The smile he gave trembled. Even Artemis could see it. 

“You lied,” she told him, her voice sounding much younger than she was. As if she were five years old again and their father had come to visit too late after the last time he had promised to return home. 

“No, I was trying to protect you–”

“You lied,” Artemis accused with tears in her eyes. She stepped up next to Apollo and looked their father in the eyes. Her hand went to Apollo’s clinging tight to him. She knew what he wanted and though it frightened her–she loved her brother more.

She would follow him to the ends of the earth. 

Apollo had not expected anything different.

He had long ago given up on their father. Artemis wanted to believe that he was a good man. But that was because Artemis confused justice with goodness. But Apollo knew better. He’d seen from an early age that their father was using them-- using the prophecy and using their powers, claiming that it was destiny but-- was it? Wasn’t it simply fear? How many times had he watched their father hesitate before touching Artemis? Hadn’t he counted the days between visits, knowing that their father only did the bare minimum so he might not have to be subjected to their company? 

And how soon it had been when Apollo realized his father was avoiding Apollo’s touch as well-- avoiding his eyes-- scared, too, of what Apollo would learn.

That wasn’t love. It was fear. The prophecy was about control. And yes, maybe there was still a child inside of Apollo that had hoped for one moment that their father would apologize and explain everything. 

But that voice was too small, that part of Apollo almost forgotten. This was the man that their father had always been: a coward.

Apollo wouldn’t let him escape without the full truth.

He squeezed Artemis’s hand once, but then he stepped away from her, drawing his hand away. As soon as he came forward, he watched as his father stepped back-- almost into the bookshelf behind him. 

“Apollo--” 

“See? You’re terrified!” Apollo laughed. “You’re hiding from us, and it’s because you’re guilty! What else are you hiding? What else haven’t you told us?” 

“I have told you all that you needed to know--” 

“Look at me then.”

“Calm do--”

“LOOK AT ME!” Apollo shouted.

His father reached for his wand on his desk. 

Apollo acted faster. He lunged at the same time, grabbing his father’s wrist and pinning it to the desk. At once, his father’s mind opened, curtains thrown back. He had read his father’s mind before. He was used to the way it was organized, thoughts in separate rooms. He had always known that his father only revealed what he wanted to, his thoughts as intentional as the moments he chose to let Apollo see them.

But not now. Now, every thought was scattered. Apollo forced himself in the way he never had with his father before. His magic reached for the closed door and ripped it open.

Flashes-- 

His father’s terrified face. His mother-- dead because of Artemis but then-- brought back because of Apollo--just a touch of his tiny hand and her eyes opened again--

Arguing. Shouting. Their father wanted nothing to do with them. Tears shining on his mother’s face. Shoving. Mother, gripping the sides of their cribs--

Mother, grabbed, shook, beaten.

Mother, dead again. Dead, forever. 

Apollo gasped. He still clung to his father’s wrist. “You--” He looked into his father’s sharp, terrified eyes. He was looking at Apollo as he had their mother. Right before he killed her.

“You killed our mother!” Apollo shouted and his hand reached for his father’s throat.  

[apollo-aegletus]

Truth’s Gleaming Sword || Eclipse

The time of the prophecy was now. 

Even if that were not literally true, Apollo would have decreed it. He was tired of waiting for his destiny, of being destiny’s page boy, bending to its whim and shaping his life around it. It was all a lie to him anyway. Why should he trust it or fulfill it when the most important part had been kept from him? It almost made him laugh out loud several times as he had paced through the living room, Artemis looking on. Their father really was the world’s stupidest man. If he was going to raise them as pigs for the slaughter, he should have at least told them they were pigs. Perhaps then they wouldn’t value their lives the way they did now--

Perhaps then they’d not love each other so much. Apollo could not imagine that of himself. His sister was always better at following instructions though. 

It didn’t matter. Not anymore. Nothing mattered, he and Artemis agreed, but to break free from their father and the tribunal’s hold on their lives. Fuck the prophecy, fuck their fate, fuck anything that wasn’t Artemis and Apollo. 

We will make our own lives, sister, he told Artemis, squeezing her hand, stroking her beautiful curls. Once we find out all there is to know. We’ll go somewhere far far away and we will live. 

But first, truth must shatter their father’s lies. It was just as the prophecy said. Now it all made sense to Apollo. He was the gleaming sword, for his powers were revelatory. 

But they had to make haste. It didn’t take long for them to realize that Niobe had disappeared, their father’s loyal familiar before she was ever their true wolf-mother. 

They abandoned their Swynlake home, then, taking the train to the airport, and boarding the first flight to Piperi, though Piperi was not where they were headed. 

Instead, they stepped into the pocket world of the tribunal, knowing that’s where their father would be hiding. And they slipped through those hallways, practiced in the art of being shadow and light. The closer they got, the more Apollo’s thirst for vengeance grew. 

Until he was stepping into his father’s office, Artemis closing the door behind them. And locking it. 

Their father was busying himself at the desk, stuffing papers and things away into a suitcase. When he looked up, he paled. Fear burned bright in those sharp green eyes. They had always been eyes of a stranger to Apollo, but now they reminded him of a frightened, cornered animal. As they met Apollo’s -- his father’s first mistake-- Apollo saw their mother’s lifeless face flash through his mind. 

“You bastard,” hissed Apollo. 

Their father lifted a hand, his eyes darting away so he was looking not at Apollo at all, but at Artemis, for her eyes were safe. “Stop-- Apollo, Artemis, my dears-- I can explain.” 

“You can lie!” Apollo snarled. “If that wasn’t true, you could look me in my eyes. There’d be no need to explain.” 

[apollo-aegletus]

Now let me tell ya boutta time The universe was mine And yes it told me to deliver this message See all the ones that you adore Are the ones we should ignore 'Cause they be putting chains on your destiny And we got to see Got to believe That nothing really matters gotta let go Of all the pain, of all ya shame One world, one love, one rainbow

And we never Tried to hurt no one we just love That ain't wrong baby But you know now our blood's been spilled By your hands and I've had enough These mother fuckers turnin me into the Gay Street Fighter

[apollo-aegletus]

Keiynan Lonsdale by Clifford Prince King

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira​:

Sing, O Muse )O( [Homeric Epic

This wasn’t the prophecy Callie knew either.

Because Callie knew the prophecy. Now that she had her memories back, she knew what it was. She knew it like a nursery rhyme – till those last two lines.

“But dusk shadows glory, turned bitter and brief,

When one stands alone to bury their grief.”

That wasn’t ambiguous. That was as clear-cut as a prophecy could get. All that golden happiness that had pooled into her chest drained at once. Artemis grabbed her. Callie let herself be grabbed. She went limp, almost like a ragdoll, her eyes wide.

One of them would die.

She’d just gotten them back and one of them would die.

She couldn’t formulate words. They choked in her throat. She couldn’t meet their eyes. Artemis grabbed her. Apollo’s voice was thin.

“That’s the full prophecy,” she finally managed to say and her voice was clear and sharp. She did not falter. “The last two lines omitted so the two of you would march forward without hesitation.”

She let herself look at them now and instead of showered in gold and silver, they were shadowed. The sun was setting. Their brief moment of happiness and reunion just dust in the wind.

“No,” Artemis disagreed, her voice deadly quiet. 

“No,” she repeated louder, shaking her head once. 

The last two lines were omitted. 

Your father lied. Your father lied. Your father lied. 

Artemis didn’t understand. How could he? How could everyone? It had to be–there was something–

Calliope’s powers were stronger than their father. She was a Muse, as old as time. Her words were as true as her heart. What she spoke was carved in stone. It was their destiny all along. The destiny they had been trained to rise up to meet. The destiny that they had been told was all theirs. A purpose that had led every decision in Artemis’ life.

And it was a lie. 

To fulfill it would mean leaving her brother alone in this world or–

No, Artemis could not think of the alternative. If one of them were to die. It would be Artemis: struck by moonlight and death foretold. It was right there in the prophecy. The death foretold was not the powers of her mediumship, as they had always understood, but her own death. And she was not afraid of death. Her powers had raised her to not be afraid. Death was her friend. 

What she was afraid of was leaving Apollo alone.

Artemis turned then to her brother, tears in her eyes. She felt like crumpling to the earth and screaming. Instead, she reached for him, curling her fingers around the cuff of his shirt the way that she would do when they were young.

“What do we do, Brother? What do we do?”

@apollo-aegletus, @calliope-hesiod

In the seconds that followed, Apollo grasped for a solution. He wanted different magic: to turn back time so he could unlearn this truth and remain in blissful ignorance. Or perhaps if he’d been a prophet himself, Apollo could have learned this so much earlier, before the year the prophecy was scheduled to come true. 

Though why had his magic not seen this anyway? He was supposed to see everything. He was Apollo, god of knowledge divine and mundane. He could peer into the minds of those around him but...

Whenever he’d seen into his own father’s mind, this had never revealed itself. His father had never been warm to Apollo of course. He didn’t hug Apollo or give him firm squeezes on the shoulder as fathers should to sons. Apollo understood part of that was discomfort, and part of it was simply the man his father was--

But now he saw it was more intentional.

That day after day after day, their father hid this truth. Purposefully. Horribly. 

Which one did he imagine would be sacrificed? Which one of his own children could become collateral damage in the name of destiny? 

The seconds passed and his confusion and despair lifted and transformed. Red hot anger filled him instead. His eyes hardened.

He knew exactly what to do.

“We find that bastard!” Apollo snarled. “We find him at once, and we demand-- we demand to see the prophecy ourselves! Who knows what else he’s hiding from us?! What other lies he’d told, to keep us-- to keep us obedient.” His eyes were wild as he looked at his sister. “We’ve been his pawns for too long. No more! I’ll kill him.” 

He didn’t mean the words, of course, as they flew from his mouth--

But hearing them outloud, Apollo relished their sound. 

He turned, eyes still burning, to look at Callie. “Can you help us? Is there anything you can-- see, that you know?” 

@calliope-hesiod​ @artemis-iokheaira​

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

Callie remembered now. She remembered that Apollo and Artemis had been part of Piper, just as much belonging to the Temple as she. She remembered writing poetry with Apollo, laughing with him, dancing with him. She remembered watching stars with Artemis, running on the beach with her, pouring through old manuscripts with her.

She embraced them. They were all about the same height, but she felt like a little girl, clinging to her older siblings, looking to them for stability and comfort.

Her older siblings. The closest thing she had to older siblings. The closest thing she’d had to a family in the temple, since everything about her relationship with Urania had been built on a lie. They were hers again.

The tears she cried were happy ones, but a feeling of deep and utter loneliness shivered through her. She’d had no good memories of the temple before this was given back to her. For the past three years she’d thought her entire childhood to be a lie, the love she’d known all false.

But that wasn’t the case. She had been loved. She’d had Artemis and Apollo.  

She had them now, though. Their smiles. Their laughs. The memories they all shared. It all flooded back to her and she felt – she felt loved. She felt that tangible warmth of love that pooled in one’s heart, that overflowed and spread to the tips of fingers and toes. She’d known she’d been lonely, but just how much she had not realized till it was now gone.

“We have so much to catch up on! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re here – that all this time you’ve – ‘

Callie’s voice cut off.

“Sing, O Muse, of the twins of Delphi, twice-come,” said Calliope, who drew away from Artemis and Apollo, walking backwards and keeping her eyes fixed on the twins. “Reborn in the shadow of a moon-darkened sun.”

Calliope spoke, but Callie recognized what this was. The prophecy. The twins’ prophecy. The one that she’d started spouting to Apollo in the newsroom the other day. The one she’d memorized as a child because Artemis and Apollo’s grand destiny was known to Piperi. Why Calliope felt it necessary to recite, Callie didn’t know, but she felt that familiar tug and she recited the words to Artemis and Apollo, drawing to the end –

“Until a red dawn rises to flood marbled fields

And truth’s gleaming sword breaks justice’s shield.”

Except Calliope didn’t stop –

“But dusk shadows glory, turned bitter and brief,

When one stands alone to bury their grief.”

@artemis-iokheaira​​ @apollo-aegletus​

Artemis felt relief. It was as if she could finally breathe again. A weight lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized that it had been so heavy. Had it always felt like this? Had she always carried this weight? For the first time, it felt as if she had woken up herself as she watched Callie come back to them. Her heart was light and filled with joy. 

She laughed and touched Callie’s arm, so happy to see her, so willing to hear all of her adventures. For once it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t interested in what Callie was talking about. She wanted to hear it all. She wanted to hear about her schooling and her friends and her hobbies. About any lovers she might have had. The hard things too: heartbreaks and sorrows, who she had lost as well as who she had loved. She wanted to hear about it all. 

Instead, she heard the same prophecy she’d heard her entire life.

The words rose and fell, as familiar as a lullaby.

Until a red dawn rises to flood marbled fields And truth’s gleaming sword breaks justice’s shield…

These words were burned in to Artemis’ heart. She knew not what they meant. Apollo and her had spent hours and days trying to riddle it out. Callie had tried. Urania and their father had tried. The truth had always alluded them.

“But dusk shadows glory, turned bitter and brief, When one stands alone to bury their grief.” 

“What?” Artemis said at once, her heart twisting in her chest. She turned to Callie, the joy wiped quickly from her face. For unlike the couplet before it, this one’s meaning was clear. 

Except–she’d never heard it before. 

This wasn’t a part of their prophecy. 

“What?” she said again and grabbed Callie by the shoulder, feeling her magic rise up around her. “What is the meaning of this?” 

@apollo-aegletus​, @calliope-hesiod​

Apollo wanted to soak himself in their memories, a kind of baptism for them all. He wanted those memories and he wanted the brand new future born from them. Because things would be different now, wouldn’t they? Callie would help them take those last steps in the direction of their destiny. And then once they’d completed it...

He thought that maybe they would return to Piperi at the end of all this but now he wondered if Swynlake couldn’t be their final resting place. This could be home-- a new home, an old home, all at once. He could work at the Squire and he could find love here. Artemis would be at home in the forest, she could help guide the Young Prince and find purpose in such things. And Callie could be with them too, their darling little sister. She could write stories. Her own stories. 

He grinned, tears still bright in his eyes. He held all this hope in his chest like a bouquet of flowers--

But their destiny came barreling faster than he anticipated. 

Apollo had been right. Callie was sent to them to help--

And here it was.

“Callie--” he began, his eyes widening. He tried to keep her hand grasped in his, but she pulled away and the prophecy continued to spill forth--until the end.

Apollo went dead-quiet. 

“But dusk shadows glory, turned bitter and brief, When one stands alone to bury their grief.”

That wasn’t how it went. 

Artemis reacted before he did. Apollo couldn’t. The brand new couplet repeated itself again and again, each word growing larger. They had their own colours, and they were horrible ones. Grief was a deep, vicious red, the colour of spilled blood. Dusk, the colour of ash.  Alone, the worst word of all-- it was white. Empty. The absence of what should be. 

The prophecy was saying that one of them would die. 

“That isn’t the prophecy...” he heard his voice, but it didn’t sound like bold and brilliant Apollo. “That can’t be the prophecy. Our father-- he would have told us.” 

Sing, O Muse )O( [Homeric Epic]

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

Callie knew this.

She knew Apollo and Artemis were not just half-nymph. She knew that their magic ran deep. She knew that they told the truth. She knew that she could trust them.

She knew that the reason she knew all of this wasn’t because of Calliope, wasn’t because of her own magic, but because of Callie, because of something that belonged to her, something that was only hers, something that not even magic could take away from her.

She looked at Artemis and Apollo now and she was struck with that intense longing she’d felt right after she’d dreamed of Apollo that first time. That yearning that delved deep in her bones, that felt so familiar to her that she hadn’t even recognized it as separate from her being. They’d always been a part of her, she realized, always for almost as long as she could remember. And then they went away, and that feeling she felt was missing them, missing a part of her that she couldn’t even remember.

So, she nodded. She blinked away tears that she didn’t even realize had come to her eyes. She reached for Apollo’s hand.

–

She is on the beach again. She is a young girl. The sun beats down on them, golden and hot. She runs after Apollo, laughing, her curls flying wildly behind her. Apollo gives a whoop. He shouts ahead to someone just in front of him. Callie remembered this from the dream. But now she can see it is Artemis ahead of them, Artemis who runs faster than them all.

“Wait for me!” Callie yells and just like that Artemis stops. She waits head. Callie grits her teeth. She runs faster. Apollo slows his pace so that they run together and join Artemis right where the waves crash to the shore.

–

Callie opened her eyes.

“I missed you guys so much,” she managed to say, before a sob choked in her throat and she ducked her head down.

@artemis-iokheaira​ @apollo-aegletus​

Artemis waited with bated breath. 

Now that her decision was made (and how could it have ever been a decision? How could she deny Calliope Artemis and Apollo? How could she have thought that was the right decision?), it was not hard to be excited. It was not hard to want it more than she had wanted anything in a long time. Calliope was a piece of home. Of Piperi. 

She saw, as soon as Calliope opened her eyes that she remembered. When you lived so much of your life watching people’s recognition fade from their gaze, you knew exactly when it returned–even if such a look was much more rare. 

Calliope looked at her with eyes shining–bright as stars. It made Artemis smile. A true smile, with dimples and all. Her own expression bright. She stepped forward and did something she did not frequently do:

She wrapped her arms around Callie and hugged her close, burying her face in the girl’s hair. Callie was warm and more of a woman than the girl she’d been when she had left Piperi–more woman than girl now, she was still just the same.

“We missed you too, little sister,” Artemis told her. 

Pulling back slightly, she looked at Apollo, smiling just as bright. “You did it!”

@apollo-aegletus​, @calliope-hesiod​

Apollo saw everything too. 

When he reached into someone’s mind, it was always hard to find the line where his mind ended and theirs began. And this, he learned, was necessary. If he resisted, then his magic flinched away and wouldn’t work. In order to change a person’s mind, he had to become them. He had to lose himself. 

And so he lost himself now and the ocean flooded through him. He was home again, illuminated under the Piperi sun, magic trembling in the air and all around him. When Callie breathed in, so did Apollo. He marveled at the memories, each one of them, as they painted themselves back into being. Years and years of laughter and tears and exchanging poetry-- of sneaking glances across the dinner table-- of reading quietly together in the green fields, under the shade of the trees. 

He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he opened them again and saw Callie’s eyes open too-- or they were already open, her eyelashes sparkling with tears. With their hands still intertwined, Apollo shared her tears as well. 

She choked and Apollo sobbed with her-- sobbed, but laughed at the same time, because she was their Calliope, and for this moment, they were home. 

He embraced Callie and Artemis, still laughing, blinking the tears down his cheeks. Her magic was still the strongest thing between them all-- a mirror that reflected Apollo’s skill back unto itself. He felt like he could build new castles for the three of them, that he could reach across the divide that existed between himself and Artemis and finally peek into his sister’s mind. He couldn’t, but that was the feeling. There were no more walls. 

“No, we did. We did, my dear Calliope.” Apollo chuckled and his hand stroked the back of her hair. He grinned at her. “I actually think it might have been mostly you. I knew that we were fated to find each other again.”

And with his free hand he reached for Artemis’s hand too. 

@calliope-hesiod​ @artemis-iokheaira​

Sing, O Muse )O( [Homeric Epic]

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

Callie had dreamed this very meeting.

The past few weeks had been full of restless nights. She had the same dream, night after night. She was on the edge of a body of water. There were two figures in the distance, one made of golden sunlight, the other silver like the moon. In the dreams she’d run towards them. Sometimes they’d run towards her. Sometimes they got so close she could see the features of their face – and she knew who they were deep down in her heart, but she woke up, tears running down her face each time because they were just out of reach.

And then Apollo had texted her.

And then she’d remembered the dream. On the beach. Running with Apollo on Piperi. A dream that felt like a memory. The words she could not get out of her head.

So when Apollo and Artemis walked to her now, she did not falter.

“I do know,” she said, and it was her voice, not Calliope’s voice, not the voice that she usually used when she was certain. She knew this as Callie, as little Callie who would run around the beach with Apollo, who would trail after Artemis in the temple.

She furrowed her brow.

“I know we knew each other once,” she said. “And that – that I feel happy seeing you. But I don’t think I know…the details. If that makes sense? I just know the feeling. Some misty memories…” She swallowed then looked at each one of the twins, somehow feeling more lonely than she had moments ago. “Why now?”

@artemis-iokheaira @apollo-aegletus

I know we knew each other once.

Artemis was not good with feelings. Her own or others. Sometimes it felt as if they were in a language she did not understand. They spoke to her, she could tell that they were trying to convey information, but she was at a loss for what they might be saying. 

Not this, though. Calliope said that she thought she had known them once and Artemis felt hurt. She felt hurt burn through her. For this was their Callie, who they built castles of stones with and whom Artemis had kissed the cuts and bruises of, before her kisses had turned to death and emptiness. For so long, Artemis had managed to hide those feelings from herself, but now, with their Callie within proper reach, Artemis could not see any other way forward.

How could she have thought the right thing to do was keep Callie from them? And them from Callie?

Her heart twisted in on itself and she looked to Apollo for guidance, but he was smiling and shining, brighter than he had in a long time. Artemis half-expected him to start to glow, to fill this town of magic to the brim with sunlight. 

“We think that our presence is wearing down the magic that protects us from people who would recognize us. We’ve never been in this position before–seeing someone whilst we are gone from Piperi.” The words rushed out, overflowing from Artemis’ lips. She couldn’t contain the truth, now that it had spotted its freedom. 

“It will all make sense soon. Brother?” Artemis turned to him, her own eyes hopeful now. She hoped he saw her apology there, and she hoped she would see forgiveness in return. 

@apollo-aegletus​, @calliope-hesiod​

Apollo had been nervous, but now he was not.

It was Callie. He knew it was her. Her magic reached out to touch his own and he felt it, the extra confidence and certainty that came with it. If Calliope was truly supposed to help a hero on their path, then there was no more doubt that this was exactly what he should be doing. Because he might not understand his fate, but he trusted Callie and he believed in her magic. And he was honored-- and amazed-- to feel the way it brightened everything about him, until he swore, he could reveal the auras of others and make people see exactly what Apollo Shining saw. 

He wanted to revel in that magic a little longer, but at the same time, there was no more time to waste. Jupiter and Saturn were coming into alignment. Callie was here. When he glanced at Artemis, he saw that his sister craved this too and did not need to read her mind to know that she was ready too.

He reached out with one hand and took Artemis’s first. Though it would be Apollo’s magic that dissolved the rest of Piperi’s spell, they’d still do this together. 

“I can restore what you’ve lost-- or-- I don’t think you’ve lost the memories, they’ve simply been hidden from you,” Apollo explained. “I’m not just a nymph. My magic is one of truth. If you trust me... I’ll take your hand and we’ll see that truth together.”

He extended a hand and smiled at her. “Trust me, Calliope.” 

@calliope-hesiod​ @artemis-iokheaira​

Sing, O Muse )O( [Homeric Epic]

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

@apollo-aegletus, @calliope-hesiod

They had agreed to allow Calliope to know the truth. 

Artemis still did not know how she felt about this. Apollo had said they must take on their destiny themselves. That it was theirs and theirs alone, but it had never felt that way to Artemis. Nothing they had ever been theirs. Not their home, which had been shared with the Muses. Not their mother, whom their father had always told them was his tragedy more than theirs: he had known her love and lost it, they should not ask him about her, it was too painful to share. Not their powers, the Tribunal told them how and when to use them. Not their destiny, which had been scrutinized and analyzed by the Tribunal. 

To Artemis, this was comforting. Her powers had always felt too big for her anyway. Most of the time, she felt all she was was her powers, instead of her powers being part of her. That was the only thing that had ever been hers, alone: the fear of her touch, how she could hurt someone.

That fear drove her every action. Even now, it made her hesitate. Worry that she was not doing the right thing. They had not told Niobe of their plans, worried that she would tell their father, as was her duty as familiar and their protector. It felt wrong and deceitful to Artemis, who hated feeling wrong or deceitful. 

It was only Apollo’s surety that guided Artemis now, as it always had when Artemis faltered. When she had first taken a life, it had been Apollo who had covered her hands with his own: never afraid, her brave brother. It had been Apollo who told her it was going to be alright. 

He told her this now, shining brighter than Artemis had seen him in a long, long time, as they made their way to the lake, where Calliope would be waiting for them. And when they came upon their little sister, Artemis thought she might, for a moment, have felt what Apollo did. Her yearning for Calliope to smile at her the way she once had, on Piperi, when she would shyly ask if she could read her poetry for Artemis. 

“Hello, Calliope,” she said, without hesitation as they moved towards her. Her eyes searched the girl’s looking for what Apollo had assured her way there. 

Do you remember me? Her gaze asked.

Jupiter and Saturan were coming into alignment, and Apollo’s destiny was almost here.

Well-- Apollo and Artemis’s destiny. But Apollo was actually thinking beyond it. After their 27 year, the prophecy no longer had a hold on their lives. And so there was another destiny waiting for him on a distant shore, one that he was moving toward now, step by step, never more certain, never more ready, even if he had to practice patience. 

It was that destiny-- a life after destiny-- that Apollo was thinking about. 

He felt guilty and selfish thinking such things and not of Artemis’s place in it, but for once, he wanted to believe there was more to him than just his magic and just his miraculous birth. 

Releasing Callie from the Piperi spell was the first step to finding out what it might look like. 

And so as they set off, Apollo was determined and excited-- but the closer they came, nerves actually began to flutter through Apollo. He was not used to that-- to doubt in his own abilities. But he wondered now if he really could snip the few threads that were holding the memories of Apollo and Artemis from Callie. They would tell her without magic of course. But Apollo wanted his powers to be enough to restore what was lost. Callie would not really be their Callie unless they were. 

He glanced at Artemis, knowing she was nervous too, and this helped. He’d be his usual confident self for the both of them. And Calliope would come home. 

When they arrived, Apollo smiled gently at the girl. “Thank you for coming. You have no idea how...how wonderful it is for the two of you to see you again like this.” All three of them, together. It’d been years. “Or maybe-- maybe you do.” 

@calliope-hesiod​ @artemis-iokheaira​

Sing, O Muse )O( [Homeric Epic]

[apollo-aegletus]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

Apollo’s hand was warm on her cheek, the way hers were always cold. The two of them always reflections of one another. When Artemis’ eyes darted up to look in Apollo’s, she saw herself reflected there. Her cowardice, where his courage was. It was that bravery that made her hold his gaze, as if she could absorb it the way he absorbed thoughts, the way she absorbed magic and life and all things beautiful.

Her heart was twisted in her chest. 

They had never broken the rules like this before. Artemis had never broken the rules in general. She followed them all as if they were a yellow brick road laid out for her. To stray from them would be to wander into an unfamiliar forest, where the trees grew from the sky and birds did not fly. It was a world that didn’t make sense to her. 

Her thumb smoothed over and over her stone. 

Her brother was right, though, wasn’t he? This was their destiny. In the end, it must be their choice. They were already in a forest full of mist, unsure what shapes their destiny would form. The prophecy told them when and what. It did not tell them why or how or who. The what was vague. So too was the when. 

When Saturn crowns Jupiter…

They knew it was when Saturn and Jupiter appear together in the sky, which had already begun and would continue throughout the year. They must be vigilant, but besides that–they had little to go on.

If Calliope was to offer them a clue, a way forward…

“We will protect her, won’t we?” Artemis murmured, still looking into her brother’s eyes. “Whatever may come to pass, we must protect her.” Of course, their destiny called on them to protect everyone, but of all of them, Calliope was most precious of all. 

If Artemis said no again...

Apollo told himself he would accept it. He must. He was only half himself without Artemis after all, wasn’t that-- hadn’t that always been true? And yet, this truth was the most bitter of tastes. And he was glad his thoughts would always be his own, even from his sister, because in that second he wanted to rip his hands away and leave the room-- go straight to Callie and decide his own destiny. He knew the privilege of fate and his magic, but he knew its burden too. Right now, that burden felt too heavy.

He just wanted to be free.

If Artemis said no, he would have to respect it anyway. If Artemis said no, Apollo must prepare himself and don one of the rare masks he wore for her. Usually he trusted Artemis to handle his moods, but this one would be too unfair. He’d need to fool her and pretend that he was alright. Apollo prepared himself.

But there was that shred of hope too-- and he couldn’t let it go. He held it as he still held one of Artemis’s hands. He held it, and watched as Artemis thought, and slowly, as the softest version of his sister appeared, beautiful as a lily. 

And Artemis said yes.

Apollo had prepared himself for disappointment; he had not prepared himself for joy. His happiness shined at once, his grin breaking across his face as wide as they’d ever come. This meant that Calliope would know them again! They’d have family here, true family, real family. After Simon’s departure, Apollo’s loneliness had been an endless well-- finally, this felt like it could begin to fill it. 

“We will, I swear!” Apollo promised his sister. And he laughed. Apollo couldn’t help it. He hugged his sister too, pressing her to him in a brief hug before he leaped up again. “Thank you! Thank you Artemis, you’ll see-- this is how the Fates decreed it. Our destiny is almost here.” 

If Silence Is Golden || Eclipse