The land of Boeotia was a place of ancient power, centered around the seven-gated city of Thebes, a city founded by Cadmus under the guidance of the gods. Yet, for all its majesty, a dark cloud had settled over the region during the reign of King Laius. The King and his Queen, Jocasta, had lived under a shadow ever since an oracle from Delphi warned that any son born to them would eventually kill his father and marry his mother. In a desperate attempt to thwart the fates, the royal couple ordered their infant son's feet to be pierced and bound, and for the child to be left to perish on the wild slopes of Mount Cithaeron. This act of cruelty, meant to ensure the survival of the king, instead set in motion a series of events that would lead to one of the most famous confrontations in all of human mythology.
Far from dying on the mountain, the infant was discovered by a compassionate shepherd and eventually taken to the city of Corinth. There, he was adopted by King Polybus and Queen Merope, who named him Oedipus, a name meaning 'swollen foot,' in reference to the injuries he had sustained as an infant. Oedipus grew up believing himself to be the prince of Corinth, a young man of high intellect and great physical prowess. However, a whisper of his true origins reached him at a banquet, where a drunken man claimed he was not his father's son. Disturbed, Oedipus traveled to the Oracle at Delphi to seek the truth. The Pythia did not answer his question about his parentage but instead repeated the terrible prophecy: he was destined to slay his father and lie with his mother. To protect Polybus and Merope, whom he loved dearly, Oedipus vowed never to return to Corinth and set out on a journey toward the region of Boeotia.
As he traveled, Oedipus encountered a chariot at a narrow place where three roads met. The old man in the chariot, arrogant and demanding, ordered Oedipus to step aside. A skirmish ensued when the man's servants killed one of Oedipus’s horses. In a flash of rage, Oedipus fought back, killing the old man and his retinue, save for one servant who fled. Unbeknownst to Oedipus, the man he had slain was King Laius of Thebes. Fate had claimed its first victim. Without a king, Thebes fell into a state of panic, and a new terror arrived to plague the city. The goddess Hera, or perhaps Ares, sent a monstrous creature known as the Sphinx to haunt the heights of Mount Phikion, overlooking the road to Thebes.
The Sphinx was a creature of nightmare, possessing the haunches of a massive lion, the wings of a great eagle, and the face and breasts of a human woman. She was not merely a physical threat but a mental one. She occupied a high perch on the mountain and stopped every traveler who sought to enter or leave the city. To each, she posed a riddle she had learned from the Muses. If the traveler failed to answer correctly—and all had failed—the Sphinx would seize them in her talons and devour them. The city was soon under a state of siege, for its people were too terrified to travel, and the youth of the city were being systematically slaughtered by the beast. Creon, the brother of Jocasta and the acting regent, made a desperate proclamation: whoever could solve the riddle of the Sphinx and rid the land of the monster would be given the throne of Thebes and the hand of the widowed Queen Jocasta in marriage.
Oedipus, arriving in Boeotia and hearing of the plight of the Thebans, decided to face the creature. He was a man who relied on his wits as much as his strength, and he felt he had nothing left to lose, having already fled his home and his future. He climbed the rugged, limestone slopes of Mount Phikion, the air growing colder and thinner as he ascended. The path was littered with the bleached bones of those who had come before him, a grim testament to the Sphinx’s hunger and the difficulty of her challenge. Finally, he reached a high ledge where the creature sat, her eyes glowing with a predatory intelligence. She did not attack immediately but looked upon him with a mixture of amusement and contempt. She spoke in a voice that was like the grinding of stones, asking him if he was ready to stake his life on a single question.
Oedipus stood firm and commanded her to speak the riddle. The Sphinx leaned forward, her wings rustling like dry parchment, and recited the lines: 'What walks on four feet in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three in the evening?' The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of the lives already lost. Oedipus did not rush his answer. He contemplated the cycle of the sun and the cycle of a life. The 'morning' was the dawn of existence, the 'afternoon' the height of maturity, and the 'evening' the twilight of one’s days. He looked at his own scarred feet, a reminder of his own infancy, and realized the truth of the creature’s words.