OptionalFiction

“Icarus, we have to leave Crete,” Daedalus sighed looking at his boy, “We have to leave now.” “But what about my friends? What about your job with the king? When will we come back?” “Now.” Daedalus insisted. He didn't want to tell his son what danger they were in. That this wasn't a joy ride. That this was an escape from certain death. Icarus got most of that anyway just from observing his father's expression. There was a mix of sadness and anger, with a dash of fear sprinkled in. Icarus stopped protesting and let his father attach the wings to him. Leather straps fixated the apparatus to his back, and his elbows. His father instructed him to place his hands through some loops and grasp them tight. Icarus was amazed at the lightness of the whole material. It didn't amount to more than the weight of wearing a silk robe. He moved his arms and felt the power. Just this light flapping had almost lifted him off the ground. “Icarus!” his father reprimanded him. He himself was fastening his own wings on his back. Icarus jumped up into the air and assisted himself with a flap. He shot up two meters into the air and slowly glided back down. “Icarus, please,” his father placed a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't angry with him. There was pain in his eyes. As if he knew something terrible was about to happen. “I see you got the hang of these already. But don't get cocky now. We'll fly over the ocean to the mainland. If you fly too high the sun will melt the wax, the feathers will come lose and you will fall. If you fly too low water from the ocean will cling to the feathers and wear them down. You'll follow me exactly and we'll make it over the sea.” “Not too high, not too low. Follow you to the mainland,” Icarus summarized. Daedalus gave a nod with a smile, but there were tears in his eyes. Then he turned, took a running start and flung himself up into the air. The sudden speed of his old man had surprised Icarus, but he also took a running start and threw himself off the small rockface and dove straight down with his wings folded in. When he had built enough speed he opened his wings and made a hard turn upwards, catapulting himself dozens of meters high to find his place behind his father. He was gliding on the warm air enjoying a freedom he had never felt before. But the flying, the wings, it all felt so intuitive. Not like something new he had gained, but something lost that he had regained. Just like when he was seven years old and his father had crafted him his first set of spectacles. When he could for the first time see the individual leaves of the olive trees and the bugs scuttling about between the rocks. And now he could finally fly through the like he was always meant to, like his heart had always already done. An immense feeling of joy washed over Icarus. He needed to push the boundaries. He looked up and he saw that the orange clouds were hanging low. He folded his wings again and started another vertical descend to catapult himself up. He quickly gained so much speed that the wind was thrashing so aggressively about him that he had to close his eyes even with his spectacles. He counted in his head, three, four, five! and exploded his wings outward. The upwards turn was so extreme that a strong force was pulling upon his whole body. A tingling sensation went through his body. His momentum had been transformed and Icarus was now shooting straight into the sky. He flapped his arms and accelerated even more. He looked straight up at the clouds that were coming closer at an incredible speed. His eyes hurt from the wind, but he needed to witness this. His climb started to slow, but he knew that it would be enough to breach the clouds. As he braced for impact, but passing through the cloud was just like passing through a veil. And then he was on the other side. He had reached his apex and hung in the air. And though it was but a moment it felt like a lifetime. The clouds below reflected the golden sunlight and expanded endlessly in all directions. Turning his body upwards he saw the sun so bright and glorious like never before. He reached out a hand and felt like he could almost hold onto Apollo's carriage hurdling through the sky. All about him feathers hung in the air like little angels celebrating this triumph with him. In passing through the clouds Icarus had transcended into a realm of the gods. A transient space placed there for the gods to behold and admire. A place no mortal was meant to witness for the pure gold and white shine of it was like a kingdom that no king would ever be worthy of, the air he was breathing tasted like Gaia's tranquil breath of life, the warmth of the sun wrapped around him like the arms of a nurturing mother.

Icarus was overcome with feelings of awe and pure bliss.

He started to sink back down again. He was accelerating quickly and soon was barrelling down at incredible speeds. He agitated his arms, but he had lost most feathers and was not gaining grip on the air. Instead, he started spinning uncontrollably. He had already broken through the clouds again. Sometimes he would see the ocean, Crete, the clouds. The world was spinning fast around him and he couldn't fixate on any point. Then it came to him—Daedalus! His father must be here somewhere. He brought the name to his lips, but before it could exit he was taken in by the ocean waves and brought into its depths from whence he wouldn't return.