"There is more out there for you Icarus." A voice said to him quietly, as a warm and comforting hand brushed itself across his cheek. "I swear on it."

When Icarus awoke, he was alone.

It was a feeling still wasn't used to, even though it was a usual occurrence. His mother slept in the servants' quarters elsewhere in the palace, far away from him, and his father always left before he woke up, but more often than not he just never came back at all. The way he could tell was if his fathers' bed was made or not.

Icarus would always make it for him if it wasn't, but today, the bed was made and so it was safe to assume his father hadn't slept. He was sure that his lack of sleep was going to kill him one day.

It took Icarus a few seconds to realise that he himself had never gotten into bed that night either, but rather he had fallen asleep sat on the window sill. He had been fooled by the feeling of his blanket draped over his shoulders, as if he'd gotten into his bed or someone had rested it over him. But if his father had never come to bed, then who could it have been?

In front of him, growing out of one of the cracks in the clean white brick, was a single, purple hyacinth, blowing delicately in the wind.

Icarus wasn't much of a botanist, having not been outside in quite some time, but he did know that flowers don't usually grow out of rocks or bricks. Grass and moss and tiny weeds might, if the building was unkempt, but flowers? He wasn't so sure.

He watched it for a while, swaying slowly, from side to side in the light wind. It seemed to catch perfectly in the early morning rays of the sun, so it purple colour resembled the most expensive of gems in Minos' collection. It was beautiful, and it made Icarus smile.

The wind didn't seem so pleased with its' shining colour, because a few second after Icarus had noticed the plant, a gust of wind came through the window, and tore it from its roots in the brick, across the room.

Icarus got up and caught it before it floated to the ground and he just held it in his hands, staring. He was thinking how could a flower grown in a place like this, out of a brick no less. It had to be some kind of sorcery, but the flower was real enough, it felt real enough, and so he was left confused. How could a thing so beautiful grow in a place like this?

But Icarus quickly stopped pondering the nature of the flower and set it down in an empty space on a nearby table. He didn't have the time today to think as he would like to, because Minos was expecting him, much to his dejection. Because today was a nice day and he wanted to bask in it like one of the many palace cats, but today was the one day of many he could not.

Before he went downstairs though, he walked back towards the window and for a few seconds he gazed at the morning sun and admired it. The yellow, orange and red shades mixing into the clear blue ripples of the nearby ocean. Then, after a little while, he closed his eyes and let its' warmth cover his face and his collar bones. The inviting warmth then spread to his shoulders, his arms and his hands, and it made him feel happy. Embraced. Welcomed. Hopeful. The sun made him feel hopeful for something better, even if it wasn't coming today.

For some reason, the sun made him want to stay. He wanted to ignore the angered calls of Minos and sit by his window and be kept company by the marvel that sat above him.

But again, he couldn't. Icarus didn't want to anger Minos, because he didn't know what the consequences would bring, so he sighed and walked downstairs, ignoring the suns' calls for him to stay.

"There is more out there for you Icarus." A voice whispered sadly, as it watched him from outside his window. "I swear on it."

Icarus wasn't much fond of the company that Minos kept. Most of them were the all-too-familiar archetype of a rich man who should not be in charge of anything, but somehow is. They were all grossly overweight, balding, draped in unflattering chitons, eating an absurd amount of grapes, whilst consuming alarming amounts of wine.

No wonder all of their faces were flush red.

But Minos himself wasn't drunk, as he thought himself better than that. He also wasn't overweight, or balding, or wearing a poor-looking chiton. He was adorned in gold and rings and a gold laurel crown that the other men in the room would clamour for, were it not sat on Minos' head.

"Icarus." Minos said deeply, whilst staring at him with his usual disappointed glare. "Pour me some wine, if you will."

Icarus knew that that Minos' politeness was a false pretence, and so he nodded without word and poured his cup half full of wine, as he liked it. He then stepped away from Minos, because he was standing too close to the upper class, and waited for further instruction, despite the fact that he knew his jug of wine was empty. If Icarus waited until another one of Minos' companions inevitably wanted more wine, he'd have an excuse to leave, even if it would be only for a few moments.

And he didn't have to wait very long.

He knew he wouldn't have to wait long, because they were drinking their wine at an alarming rate and it wouldn't have been long before someone called for his services.

"Boy!" A man Icarus had come to know as Vasilis, who was already extremely drunk, called. "More wine if you please!"

He pretended to swish the jug around and look into it. "My apologies sir." Icarus bowed falsely. "I failed to realise I had no wine left. I shall go and collect more as fast as possible."

He began to scurry off, making himself as small as he could so that Minos wouldn't notice he was disappearing, and on his way out he could help but notice an empty couch. It was clear someone had yet to arrive, though Icarus couldn't blame them, these men didn't seem like the most delightful company and even he'd run from their company whenever he got the chance.

The corridors he passed through were a constant stream of other house servants, some he recognised and some he didn't, supplying the dining hall with copious platters full of food and some that were empty. There were some carrying wine and other beverages, (not that they were going to drink anything else), and Icarus knew that soon the women from nearby brothels would begin to arrive to entertain them, as if their company's appearance didn't amuse enough already.

"Icarus!" Another serving boy who was a little older than Icarus, called Abbas, called from down the corridor, seemingly with an extra shadow looming behind him. "Icarus!"

"What?" Icarus responded tiredly, as he swung the empty jug from side to side in a nonchalant manner. "What do you want?"

Abbas smiled once Icarus replied and ran up to him gleefully, like the small children of female slaves that would run around during the day, if there were no guests. The shadow that had hovered behind Abbas seemed to follow him, though not as quickly and it took it a few seconds to catch up.

"Could you show this guest to the dining hall?" Abbas asked. "I need to get back to the gates before Minos finds out I left."

"I have to go to the kitchen." He replied quietly, as if he were trying to exclude the guest from the conversation. But he heard anyway. "I have to be quick or I'll get in trouble."

"Don't worry." The soft, calming voice of the guest said, as he stopped admiring the walls and emerged from behind Abbas. "I can show myself there, if that's more convenient."

The figure was tall, but not scarily tall, lean but not muscular and certainly not overweight. His skin was dark, smooth and perfect, without a blemish on it. His hair was ebony black, wound tightly into thick dreadlocks that cascaded to his middle back. He was adorned in golden jewellery to a degree that would've made Minos jealous, and was making Icarus such. The chiton he wore was a pure, clean white, unlike the chitons of his peers, and was drawn at the wait with a golden chord, as befitting his apparent colour scheme. He looked like perfection, if perfection was a person.

"My apologies." Icarus bowed. "The dining hall is straight down the corridor, through one of the archways on the right, but I'm sure you will hear the other guests once you get close."

"I most certainly will." He smiled politely, yet warmly. "I'm sorry for stopping you, if there is any issues with Minos, I will sort it. I swear on it."

As he disappeared down the corridor, he lightly brushed past Icarus, seemingly on purpose, and Icarus froze.

His touch, regardless of how slight it was, was warm and comforting, soft and supple. His hands glided gently across his forearm, so lightly it was almost unnoticeable, and then slid off and disappeared, only leaving Icarus yearning for it once again, much to his own surprise.

"Who was he?" Icarus asked, still looking down the corridor that the guest had disappeared down.

Abbas frowned. "I don't know. He didn't introduce himself, he just asked to be let in. I'll see you another time then, Icarus."

"Perhaps."