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Regulus always knew he wasn't meant to touch the sun.
Ever since he was a mere child of only six years old, he talked to Sirius about learning how to reach out and fly towards the blazing Sun. He craved that type of warmth that could penetrate through his translucent skin, and that could thaw out the fear he held in his fragile heart.
He imagined how the sun would hold him so tight that all memories of the shadow and bitter cold would forever burn away, nothing but ashes left as evidence of the pain he experienced for far too long. His brother had laughed and warned him that his frail figure would burn instead of the cold.
And Sirius was never, completely, wrong.
For the entire student term, Regulus was trapped under the quiet house that felt too big, awaiting the arrival of his only brother. When Sirius came back from Hogwarts, he hadn’t just brought his trunks filled with that summer’s homework— with him, he brought all sorts of memories. Filled with new friendships, mischievous laughter, and a jagged, newfound freedom that Regulus could barely comprehend.
While Sirius had learned to grow his own pair of wings and had begun to learn how to fly, Regulus had to bear the heavy burden that was now placed on him by the chilling, empty gaze of their parents. He found himself becoming more familiar with the ugly, sharp pain of jealousy that only grew by the passing of time.
He didn’t know how to ask for a piece of that sky, the one that seemed to have cured Sirius, so instead he lashed out— Frequent sneers becoming common at the mention of ‘James’, or ‘Remus’, or literally anyone that had made Sirius smile so brightly, in a way that Regulus only wished he could have.
The few times when both brothers were able to find peace within that house was always in the garden. There, both boys could simply exist. They strolled around the garden, letting the midday air brush against their gaunt skin.
Sirius, vibrant and buzzing with too much energy for the upcoming year, needed to fill the silence with anything that would distract him from his thoughts. So he started retelling stories he learned during his time in his common room and dormitory. One he recounted was The Tragedy of Icarus.
He spoke of a boy whose father created wings of wax.
Icarus, who was too ambitious for the scoured earth, who yearned for much more than he could handle. Sirius grew more animated as he reached the climax of the story, describing how Icarus’ father, Daedalus, gave frantic warnings to his only son, yet Icarus ignored the pleas, becoming more infatuated by the idea of touching the sky, of touching the bright ball that the Gods held so selfishly.
He climbed higher and higher, never having felt so free before!— Until his wings gave out. Plunging him from the heavens above, all the way down, into the embrace of the silent waters of the ocean below.
Sirius must have forgotten the dreams of his little brother, of touching the sun.
Regulus found that he no longer wanted to feel or even look at the shining golden sky, too afraid of the consequences that may lead him to his doom.
It wasn't until he was sixteen and sneaking throughout the night with James Potter, the very boy he had once despised with all his entire, bitter heart, that he realised that he didn't need to travel far to find that shining star who lit the entirety of the solar system. In fact, it was a fool’s errand!
He didn’t need to make a spell that would take him someplace safe from the tenebrous shadows. And there was certainly no need to risk his life, trusting a pair of waxed wings that would doom him as soon as he reached for that beam of light.
His sun was right there.
James, in all his ridiculous, golden, egotistical glory, was at his side.
James was a constant source of heat that Regulus would cling to, a vibrant hearth that would give solace to Regulus by chasing away the terrible memories of Grimmauld Place that had managed to etch into his soul. In their quiet moments, when they weren’t talking or giving chaste kisses to one another, Regulus would reminisce about the impact of James in his life. James left more than just rays of hope in his life.
He left on a burning ambition within Regulus, one he wanted to indulge in so desperately. An ambition of finding freedom and absolute happiness for himself. A desire to really live the life he’s dreamed of since he was small.
Burning against him at night and shining brightly when they met once more, before that winter’s break, underneath the luminescent sky, Regulus had finally made his decision to be both ambitious and selfish. Though it meant that he would be taking a risk of failure, one that Icarus faced as well, he was prepared for what the fates held for him.
Of course, it wasn't meant to last. That foolish desire was just his hubris speaking.
When the skies dimmed, and his house was haunted by death and deprived of sunlight, Regulus found that he wasn't like Icarus at all. The mark was enough proof that he couldn't risk everything for the chance of finding something worthy of living for in life.
Upon returning to their spot up at the astronomy tower, after winter, the dark haired boy revealed the sin that was marked on his sickenly pale skin. Forever binding him to the other side.
Oh, the rage Regulus faced that night. One more blasphemous than Zeus' lightning bolt.
"Sirius was right. You are just like them."
Oh, Sirius was right this time. Regulus would be burned by the sun, his sun.
Regulus remained anchored in the shadows, his silence was heavy as he watched James retreat toward the light. James not only took the warm from Regulus, but he also took all hope for Regulus’ future with him. He carried away the horizon, leaving only the ghost of Regulus to rot at the graveyard he was raised in.
And it wouldn't be long after, only two short years, before he would forever sleep in the waves below. If only to prove that he was good, at least once.
The wings Regulus never knew he had created, had frozen still the moment his sun walked out.
Maybe he was like Icarus.
Maybe, he wished for too much.