"So what happens now?" Apollo asked.

They were both sat on the window ledge, Icarus nestled in between Apollo's arched legs. His head was resting Apollo's chest, with his heartbeat thumping comfortingly in his ear. Apollo had one hand wrapped softly around Icarus' waist and the other playing with a lock of his hair; it was almost lulling Icarus to sleep.

"What do you mean what happens now?" Icarus replied, half-stuck in a sleepy haze. "What happens when?"

"We know the wings your father made for you work; we tested them and you flew." He looked forlornly at the oncoming sunset. "So what are you and your father going to do now?"

Icarus hummed. The vibration felt soft against Apollo's chest. "He's making a pair for himself, which should take a week or so. Then after that, when the weather permits us, we'll be out of here." He smiles. "Finally."

Apollo didn't smile.

He wasn't in a mood to smile, not that Icarus could much tell. He was too deeply buried in his own bliss to realise the heavy weight of immense distrust hanging on Apollo's face.

"Apollo, my freedom is almost within my grasp. I can taste it on the tip of my tongue, it's liberating." He laughed. "I almost can't believe it. The sky will be my only limit."

"I'm glad you feel so joyous about your future prospects." Apollo replied monotonously.

"You don't feel the same way?"

"You know I don't."

Icarus frowned.

Apollo rolled his eyes and tried not to sigh.

"Don't look at me like that Icarus, I haven't exactly kept my ill feelings for your father's plan a secret. It doesn't mean I love you any less, I am just being honest with you. It doesn't bode well, I don't like it."

"What else would you have me do Apollo?" Icarus said. "This is my chance to escape. An opportunity like this might never come around again, I have to take it. I wish you could see that."

"I can see that, but you forget that I am a god Icarus, I have seen things like this happen before. I know how it usually ends and I know how the gods like to play cruel games with mortals for their own amusement. Don't think your immune from their whims."

Icarus turned his eyes upwards to Apollo's. They met in a moment of sadness that was then quickly masked by a delicate kiss to Icarus' forehead.

"Do you speak of Hyacinthus?" He asked.

Apollo blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You said that you've seen things like this happen before, how the gods like to play games with us. Do you speak of Hyacinthus? What game did he fall victim to, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He fell victim to the game of Zephyros' bitter jealously." He said quietly. "But he was different. Hyacinthus wasn't looking for anything; he was the prince of Sparta, he had everything he could ever want."

Icarus remained silent for a moment. "Do you miss him?"

"He was torn from me in a way no one could ever understand, of course I miss him. It would be wrong of me to tell you that I don't love him anymore, because I do. I still do, and I think I shall forever; but it doesn't mean I love you any less. I love you for you Icarus; I love you as my present, and I love Hyacinthus as my past."

Icarus smiled and kissed Apollo once more. "And I too, love you as my present, and hopefully my future."

And hopefully my future.

Those words later rang bitterly in Apollo's ears.

A week of windless days, torrential rain and thunderstorms passed before sky began to clear and the weather became calm and stable enough for Icarus and Daedalus to fly.

When the day eventually came, a sunny yet cold Friday morning, Icarus could feel his heart beating in rhythmic flutters. It was also so surreal to him, standing on the window ledge with the wings strapped to his back and arms, facing his freedom head on. Everything he had been waiting for, everything that Apollo had told him about and everything that Daedalus had promised, was staring him right in the face, and he was determined not to shy away from it.

Despite that, Icarus was still nervous. He was faced with the world's horizon, his future was resting on the tips of his fingers, and yet Apollo's hesitance sowed the seeds of doubt within Icarus He knew that the gods saw mortals as their play things, he'd heard the story of Heracles, and Medusa, and Orpheus, and he just wondered if he'd become a simple play thing too; if they'd put his freedom in sight and then snatch it away, all for a good laugh.

Who was he kidding? Of course the gods would do that, they enjoy watching the pain of others. They find it enthralling.

This was not the time to dwell on that fact. If the gods were going to kill him, then so be it. There was nothing he could do about it now; it was his fate. It was set in the very stone he walked on.

Icarus took a deep breath, until his lungs had totally filled with air, before breathing out slowly. His heart wasn't beating any slower than before.

"Icarus, we can't wait any longer." Daedalus said hurriedly, as he stood behind Icarus with his own wings tied sturdily to his arms. "The weather conditions are perfect, I don't know how long this'll last."

"But Apollo isn't here." Icarus mumbles to himself, looking for a few moments at the blazing sun, before having to turn his eyes away.

"We can't sit idle and wait for him, we must leave whilst we can." He insisted. "Regardless, he's in the sky watching over us. He'll be with us all of the way, wherever we end up. He'll keep us safe."

Icarus nodded. I hope so, he thought. I hope so.

"Come on Icarus." Daedalus smiled. "The world awaits."

Icarus threw himself out of the window, but quickly gained his balance in the air and began to flap his wings to fly.

He'd gotten the hang of flying since his first attempt with Apollo. He'd managed to get out and fly a few times since then, in weather that his father said wouldn't be good for a long distance journey, and he'd managed to harness control of the wings, how to get them to turn and flap, and indeed fly. He actually quite enjoyed it, he wondered if Apollo felt like this.

Icarus looked behind him and saw his father flying as well and quickly catching up with him. He slowed down to let him catch up.

"So which way do we head to get to land?" Icarus asked, shouting in order to be heard over the wind.

"If we head north-west, we should come by Lakonia. I suggest we land there and then we can make our way towards Attika across the Peloponnes on foot." Daedalus yelled. "I'm not sure how long it's going to take, so we may have to stop on some of the islands along the way; I don't feel comfortable flying at night."

Icarus nodded. "At least we'll be away from Minos, and Crete. I'm not sad to see it behind me, I just wish mother could come with us."

Daedalus had a solemn look on his face. The wind picked up. "Your mother is biding her time, she has to look innocent in this. Minos will head straight to her once he notices we're gone, she has to look like she knows nothing of our departure. Once she has enough coin saved, she'll leave Minos and come and find us in Athens."

"Why must we go to Athens?"

"She can get a boat directly to the Port of Piraeus, near Athens. My home is also there, everything I left behind. I miss it, I want to show you everything you've missed."

Icarus said nothing.

He couldn't find anything to say.

Behind him now, Crete was nothing more than dot on the horizon. The tower was still visible high in the sky, but it couldn't hurt him anymore. It couldn't trap him within its' four walls and suffocate him until there was no life in him. He was free of its' grasp, free of Minos' grasp, free of the grasp that the Islam's has on him.

He could help but laugh, and laugh, and laugh. "Can you see me Apollo?" He yelled to the sun. "Can you see me? I'm flying! I'm doing it! The world is before me and it feels brilliant!"

The wind picked up a little more, and Icarus had to jostle for control, but eventually he stabilised.

Daedalus smiled at his son's joy. He'd never seen him this happy before, a wide toothy grin on his face and wind running through his hair. He liked to think that his happiness was down to him, but he couldn't take total credit for it. Apollo had something to do with it, that he couldn't deny. Apollo made Icarus feel safe, and in a way that made Daedalus feel sad; sad that he couldn't make Icarus feel safe, but in turn he was happy that someone was installing that stability in Icarus if he couldn't.

The wind became fierce beneath Icarus, and again he tried to regain control of himself. His father had warned him that this might happen, that wind might get stronger the higher up he went, and so there was nothing to worry about. He just gain control, he just had to fly slightly lower and catch himself in the stream of the wind, not above it.

Every time he tried to take himself lower, he found himself being pulled further up, as if the wind refused to let him go. He repeatedly tried to jerk downwards, down towards his father who must've been a few metres below him now, but it was no use. He couldn't regain control of himself. The wind was seizing him and not letting him go. Icarus swore he could see a face in the wind and hands on his arms.

"Icarus!' Daedalus yelled from below. "You must come down! You're getting too close to the sun!"

"I can't!" He replied, barely being heard over the wind that was now howling like a pack of wolves. "The wind's too strong!"

"You must face downwards, get into the stream on the wind!"

"I'm trying! It's not working!"

Icarus tried once again to fly lower, but the wind's grip on him didn't lessen. In fact, it grew stronger. Any time he tried to bring himself down, a powerful gust would come from beneath and suck him towards the sun until he could feel nothing other than it's blaring heat, beating down on him.

In that moment, Icarus thought if Apollo could see him. If Apollo could see him fighting against the wind, and losing miserably.

Apollo, please.

I need you.