Then let me now unfold for you a story that has not yet flown across the streets of Kyme, though it belongs to the old tapestry of legend. This is the tale of Apollo and Daphne, the god who chased desire—and the nymph whose escape wove grief into triumph.

Apollo, god of music, light, and healing, had once mocked love’s arrow. Eros, the mischievous child, responded by unleashing two strangely opposite darts: one of gold to ignite desire, another of lead to repel it.

The golden arrow pierced Apollo, and his heart burned with longing for Daphne, a beautiful nymph devoted to rooting in the forests and untouched by love. But Daphne’s heart was not free—she had sworn to Artemis to remain unwed, to run with wild deer, and know only the wind in her hair.

"Arrow gold, and longing’s flare,
Heart ablaze in the forest air,
Chase the nymph of silent wood,
Love’s pursuit turns all to good—or evil."

Apollo followed, swift as his own chariot across the sky, calling after Daphne with promises of devotion, protection, of immortal love. But Daphne, terrified and resolute, fled deeper into the woods—barefoot, breathless, each step further from a god’s embrace.

Her despair grew as Apollo closed in. And in that final moment of panic, she cried out to her father, Peneus, river god, to help her escape the fate she dreaded. The earth responded.

Daphne’s hands and feet stiffened, her skin grew rough like bark. Her hair became leaves, her arms transformed to branches delicate and strong, and from her feet, roots sunk deep into the earth. Apollo halted, half-reaching toward her blossoming form, and knew he had lost her forever—not by refusal, but by metamorphosis. It was then he gave her one gift: the laurel tree, forever evergreen, forever cherished by the god who loved what he could not hold.

"Branch and leaf, and root in clay,
Safe from love that could betray.
Ever green, though heart untamed,
Yet by his grief forever named."

So the laurel became sacred to Apollo’s lyre and victory wreaths, its fragrance lingering where song and triumph meet. And Daphne, rooted forever, found her solace—not as bride, but as forest’s timeless shade.