There were two playmates, said to be of heavenly parentage. One was
Epaphus, who claimed Zeus as a father; and one was Phaethon, the
earthly child of Phoebus Apollo (or Helios, as some name the sun-god).
One day they were boasting together, each of his own father, and
Epaphus, angry at the other's fine story, dared him to go prove his
kinship with the Sun.

Full of rage and humiliation, Phaethon went to his mother, Clymene,
where she sat with his young sisters, the Heliades.

"It is true, my child," she said, "I swear it in the light of yonder
Sun. If you have any doubt, go to the land whence he rises at morning
and ask of him any gift you will; he is your father, and he cannot
refuse you."

As soon as might be, Phaethon set out for the country of sunrise. He
journeyed by day and by night far into the east, till he came to the
palace of the Sun. It towered high as the clouds, glorious with gold
and all manner of gems that looked like frozen fire, if that might be.
The mighty walls were wrought with images of earth and sea and sky.
Vulcan, the smith of the gods, had made them in his workshop (for
Mount-Aetna is one of his forges, and he has the central fires of the
earth to help him fashion gold and iron, as men do glass). On the doors
blazed the twelve signs of the Zodiac, in silver that shone like snow
in the sunlight. Phaethon was dazzled with the sight, but when he
entered the palace hall he could hardly bear the radiance.

In one glimpse through his half-shut eyes, he beheld a glorious being,
none other than Phoebus himself, seated upon a throne. He was clothed
in purple raiment, and round his head there shone a blinding light,