Chapter Text
Icarus has been imprisoned for the past seven years. Most of his life.
He looks up through the window of his tower, keeping track of the sun’s movement. The sun is just about to start dipping below the horizon, shedding its last rays of light before letting the moon shine.
He loves looking up at the sun. He has memorized its movements, and he looks up at it more than he cares to admit.
“Icarus?” His father asks. Icarus turns around.
“Yes, Father?” Icarus replies.
“The wings are almost done,” Daedalus says. He holds up one of the pairs of wings. “You’ve added the finishing touches, yes?”
Icarus nods. “What will we do tomorrow?” He asks.
Daedalus sets down the pair of wings. “Tomorrow, my boy, we will fly.” Daedalus walks up to Icarus and places a hand on his shoulder. “But, for now, you must go to sleep. I have too much to do in preparation for tomorrow, make sure there are no mistakes and such, and you need to prepare as well.”
Icarus nods and smiles. “Yes Father, I will.”
Icarus can barely sleep. He tosses and turns, thinking about finally being free the next day. His mind races with images of flying up in the air, then being able to rest his feet on soft, green grass.
Icarus imagines himself working, like his father. He imagines helping others, doing good, and, of course, he can’t help but imagine himself up in the air. He would have to ask his father if they can keep the wings afterwards.
Father would probably say no, but it would be worth a shot.
“Wake up, Icarus,” Icarus hears his father mumble. “Wake up.”
Icarus drowsily opens up his eyes. He sees his father, crouching down in front of him. Daedalus rubs his son’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s time to get up.”
Icarus sits up. “Are we going to fly today?”
“Yes, my boy,” Daedalus flashes one of his rare grins. “Today, we will soar.”
Icarus eagerly stands up. “Father, come on! We must leave!” His father is smiling. He must be so proud of Icarus.
Daedalus huffs, and his grin fades faster than it appeared. “Alright, alright.” He stands up and grabs the pairs of wings. He takes the wings and straps them onto Icarus' back. Icarus feels the cool wax and feathers against his arms. Daedalus turns around, and Icarus straps the larger pair of wings on his father’s back.
Icarus and his father look out the window.
“Are you ready?” Daedalus asks.
“I was born ready, Father,” Icarus smiles.
“Now, before we can head out, there are some rules,” Daedalus says. “Don’t fly too close to the sun; the wax will start melting. And, don’t fly too close to the sea either. Then, you’ll fall and drown.”
“I know, I know,” Icarus chuckles. “Be careful, all that stuff. Now, should I do the honors?”
“No, I’ll go first,” Daedalus insists. He climbs up to the window, takes a deep breath, and jumps out. To Icarus' amazement, his father stays up in the air.
Icarus excitedly hops onto the window and jumps out into the air. He feels the wind against his arms, and the sun on his back. Finally, Icarus starts flying.
Daedalus has the whole journey mapped out. They will fly eastward for a couple days, to a place Icarus forgets the name of. Icarus spots the map tied at Daedalus' belt, just underneath his wings.
Icarus speeds ahead of his father, full of youthful excitement. He smells the salt of the ocean below him, its breeze tickling his arms. Icarus triumphantly laughs, his voice carrying through the air.
Icarus looks up at the sun. The sun suddenly seems much more bright and beautiful. He can’t help but wonder what the sun looks like up closer. Before Icarus knows it, he’s climbing higher than his father.
Icarus keeps his eyes on the sun. What was it Father said about the sun? Icarus could only remember his excitement to fly. He climbs higher and higher, taking in the warmth of the late morning sun.
“Father, look at me!” He exclaims. “Are you proud of me?” Icarus cannot hear if his father says anything over the wind rushing in his ears.
Icarus feels the sun shedding its rays onto him. He feels the light burning even more brightly, like the sun knows about the occasion. He stretches out a hand to reach the sun. Icarus feels the excitement bubbling up. He feels the amazement of even looking at such an incredible sight. He feels…
He feels the wax of his wings begin to drip down his back. He feels some of his feathers flutter down his back.
Icarus tries to keep on flying. But, he starts falling. Icarus watches the sun shrink in front of his eyes.
“Father!” Icarus yells. It’s too late.
Icarus remembers his father’s warning. “Don’t fly too close to the sun; the wax will start melting”. How stupid of Icarus. He couldn’t follow a single instruction.
He tries to reach for the sun one last time, but he’s falling faster than he can fly. The wind pushes him down; the sea smell grows and grows.
Icarus can hear the splash of his body against the ocean. Water seeps into his lungs and traps him under the sea. He doesn’t know how to swim!
Panic seizes Icarus just as he closes his eyes.