Phaethon’s thoughts kept going back to what Epaphus had said to him nearly a few days ago as you spoke while you both sat by a river.

’Do you even know of your father?’

For some reason it hit a wound deep within, he was positive he knew of his birth: that of Helios, god of the sun, his sisters were called The Heliades for a reason, no?

He was draped against your sighed, his head upon your shoulder and the blonde curls of his hair within his own face as his lips pursed and brow furrowed.

“I need to seek out my father.” He muttered, not looking to you as his eyes were upon the river. “Epaphus knows his own, that of Lord Zeus, and he claims to have met the man!”

“My father, Helios if it be true, is far more ancient and wiser, why have I not met him?”

He didn’t seem to be looking to you for an answer, rather that of the gods who resided above on Olympus where he could not go.