"Sick Almost To Doomsday With Eclipse"

Apollo reclined peacefully into the soft inferno of his burning throne. His morning had been quite wonderful, as he was particularly vigorous in ravaging his fire sprites. Dangling from his golden hand sparkled a silvery scroll, sealed with the sign of Artemis. His lordship over the western half of earth had lasted a good seven hours already, so to receive notice from his sister at such an hour struck him as quite odd. Why would she interrupt her hunt? With a troubled brow, he gently broke the seal, and watched the luminous scroll unfurl before him.

"Brother, I interrupt my hunt to humbly beg your assistance in a matter of profound importance. One of my children has lost his way, and forgotten that he is of flesh composed. Under me, his discipline wavers, and the night has no means to stay his furies. You are strong over that part of the world, and as I know the mind of my son, he is not hiding from your eye. Please use your influence to subtly remind him that though he is one of my children, he is not of my matter. He is of the earth. I thank you, and offer you this bow as a sign of my gratitude."

At that moment, a great recurve bow materialized in his left palm, blue as midnight and strung with moonlight. The firey blaze about him retreated for a moment at the blinding white majesty of so kingly a gift.

Though his post romp state did not predispose him toward taking part in disciplinary action on behalf of his sister, he really liked the fucking bow. He continued reading.

"The arrogance of my son will manifest itself in the training he undertakes during your hours. His actions during mine do not prepare him for such ventures, but he has grown bold, and will act out of accordance with the natural state of man. In the course of his blasphemy, make him know your eye. I am eternally grateful."

Apollo smiled, and leaned over the left arm of his throne to gaze upon the doings of the world. He spied a young man, confidently charging up the stairs in front of what appeared to be a great tower. With his fingertip, he traced a path for the young man to follow, dividing the clouds and opening up the earth to the fires of his gaze. Along this path, the young man he watched with distinct intent, as he lumbered at a slackening pace, feeling the infernal glare of a well tended deity. "You will know your flesh," Apollo chuckled, as the young man clutched his sides with agony. Occasionally the young man steeled himself and plowed forth with renewed resolve, but these episodes became shorter and shorter, as Apollo quickly corrected them. After some time, the young man finally returned to his dwelling, limping, gasping, cramping, and coughing.

Upon observing the conclusion of this disciplinary action, Apollo leaned back into his throne satisfied with himself for so easily disrupting the hubris of this foolish boy. His fire sprites danced gingerly out in the distance, throwing their impassioned gaze towards his. He withdrew a sunbolt from the quiver resting on the left arm of his throne, and in summons, fired it skyward from the gleaming brilliance of his newly acquired gift. He, after all, required no such rest.