The Untold Story of Icarus

Minos, king of Crete, asked the brilliant craftman Daedalus to build the maze to trap the Minotaur. Fearing that Daedalus was leaking secrets, he put Daedalus and his son Icarus into the maze. Daedalus was too clever to be trapped, and he built wings for himself and Icarus.

All disputes with the king and the half-man could be put aside. Icarus flew too close to the sun. He thought he was stronger than Helios. His wings melted, but he held Helios by the arms in the lingering moment before he fell. He looked into the eyes of Helios, a contempt too deep to make sense of. Then he pulled the knife from his pocket, thrust it into the immortal bronze flesh, and carved Helios' chest open.

Golden light spilled onto the emerald sea with a wail. It traveled miles and miles across the curving surface, cutting through the ocean like a sword.

Around him was only boundlessness, and Icarus was not at all the kind teenager people believed him to be. A voice in his head told him he was a sinner, a mortal who had killed a god. He shuddered at the thought, ashamed at first. Then he realized he was afraid that consequences would come, and that they would be ugly.

He was scared of pain, but he was also scared of joy, for joy was not a familiar thing to him.

The maze was such a lonely place. In the maze there was enough food to survive and a quiet place to sleep. There was something painful about being alone. He would play games with his father, Daedalus, sweating under the sun and embraced by the marble walls. Then, when he rested in his sweat, he would look at his limbs, healthy and lean. Something wanted to crawl out from beneath that fair skin. It crept from his brain to the edge of his body. He named it pain.

The world was unknown to him, and he did not know his father well. Icarus spent a great deal of time with Daedalus, yet he did not truly know him. At one point, he decided that he might never know his father. His father's words no longer held power after failing him over and over. Daedalus made wings, played games with him, and spent long hours alone at midnight.

Sometimes it felt as though spending time alone at midnight was all there was.

It was as if he were finally waking from a dream. Maybe that was how life was supposed to be.

Do not fly too close to the sun. His father's words echoed in his mind among the many other voices. Purple exhilaration and orange relief mixed together and blurred his vision. At that moment, he felt uncertain about the land and the image of a beautiful, peaceful life. Somehow they frightened him, and he was so used to imagining the pain he endured.

They all took shape within the space around him. The burning sunlight and the dizziness of the height felt more familiar, like his cruelly healthy limbs. Take it off my shoulders, please, he pleaded.

When he saw that white beard speaking with authority, he felt a terrible violence rise inside him. He saw what he had truly felt over the years. His justice was done. Helios wanted nothing from Icarus, so he said nothing, and let Icarus do what he had to do.

The wings melted beneath the light pouring from Helios' chest, and Icarus was blinded by it. He thought everything had become dark in the absence of Helios. He felt the ocean seize him with terrible force against his back. The water rushed through his nose, leaving a sour sensation. Gradually, the sea took him in.

Mermaids' song woke him and he drowned.