Icarus watched his father with doubting curiosity, as he watched him meticulously lay out a set of feathers on his workshop table.

The feathers were all of different colours and sizes, of different patterns and different shapes; they clearly didn't come from the same bird and Icarus, for the life of him, could not understand what his father intended to do with them all.

Beneath the carefully laid out mismatched feathers, was a wooden frame. The day before Daedalus had measured the span of Icarus' arms, and overnight he'd built an Icarus-sized frame, out of wooden remnants and left over parts, with the joints being held together by tightly tied leather strips.

"I don't understand." Icarus rolled his eyes. "What are you building?"

"I am building a set of wings, Icarus." Daedalus began, producing a pot of melted wax from god knows where. "If this works, I'll make myself a pair and we'll fly away like birds."

"Surely it would just be easier to steal a boat from the harbour?" He suggested. "I mean, I'm not sure that this would be the easiest way to escape."

"How do you propose we get a boat from the harbour without Minos knowing we've escaped the palace?"

"I wasn't proposing anything, I was simply suggesting." Icarus shrugged. "If you think this is the best plan, then okay."

"I don't know if this is the best plan, it's just the only plan I have."

Icarus raised an eyebrow at his father's response. "That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

Daedalus smiled. "That's okay. I don't need your confidence, I just need to know that this works." He said jokingly, as he continued to paint wax on the feathers, to make them stick to the wooden frame. "That's why I made it your size."

"So that if it goes wrong, I'll plummet to my death and you'll be fine?"

"Exactly."

Icarus laughed.

It was weird, but it felt natural, to behave this way; like father and son. It came quiet easy, which was unexpected. They'd spent eighteen years being distant and as far as they could from each other, and now they were acting as if they'd never spent a day apart. They'd spent eighteen years as strangers and now they were best friends.

Honestly? It made Icarus feel complete. He had a lover who loved him, and now a father who loved him too; he felt like nothing could be better. If he didn't leave Crete, he would be satisfied with this; with a nice father and a gentle lover. In his life, Icarus felt there was nothing more he could ask for.

"Where did you get these feathers from?" Icarus asked, finding himself at a loss for words again. "Because I don't think I've seen you leave this workshop for quite some time."

"Your mother collects them when she's working in the vineyards, if she sees any lying on the floor." Daedalus replied, still positioning the feathers on the wooden frame. "That's why non of them match. I'd prefer it if they did, but I suppose I can't be picky."

"I haven't seen mother around." Icarus furrowed his eyebrows. "Does she come by and drop them off?"

"She does." He nodded. "But you seem sneak off every night, so you don't see her."

Icarus blushed. "I didn't know that you knew about that."

"I didn't for a while, it was your mother who noticed you weren't there. She came by, dropped off a small sack-full of feathers and she wanted to talk to you, but you weren't there and she couldn't find you. So she told me, and now I realise you run off every night. I don't know where you can possibly go without Minos noticing you've left, but you seem to do a good job of it. He hadn't noticed yet, so you're safe for now."

He didn't know what to tell his father. He didn't want to mention Apollo, not just yet, because not only had he not discussed the matter with him, his father likely wouldn't believe him. I mean, how believable does it sound? Father, I am the lover of the god Apollo, god of the sun, archery and music, amongst other thing? Even after saying that to himself in his head, he thought it sounded crazy, so he couldn't even begin to imagine what it would sound like if he said it out loud.

So he simply said "I just sneak out. I'm not sure how I've gotten away with it thus far, but I have." He added a shrug for extra believability. "I go down to the beach sometimes, or just walk about the countryside surrounding the palace. I make sure to come back before Minos rises from his dingy cave."

Daedalus almost laughed. "I should've taken you to the beach as a child." He replied. "I should've been a better father to you, but I promise that, from now on I will be. When we leave Crete, I will be the father to you that I should've been before"

"It's a magnificent place at night." Icarus changed the subject. "The moon's reflection on the water is...unimaginable, unmatchable. And the sand, it felt so weird at first, but now I love it. I just love to feel it in between my toes, I love to hold it in my hands and let it drain through the gaps. I love it."

"I'm glad you do, but please be careful. Minos will not be merciful if he discovers you've been escaping the palace to frolic on the beach."

"I know." He smiled cheekily, turning around and walking towards the stairs. "He won't find out. Trust me."

"So, I noticed that your father is up to something." Apollo said, taking his usual seat beside Icarus on the window ledge. "Care to explain?"

Icarus smiled and greeted him with a light kiss, as befitting his mood. "He's making a set of wings for the both of us." He replied. "He says we're going to fly away like birds; out of the window and towards the mainland. I don't know where we're going to go, but I feel more hopeful now; something feels lighter."

"It's an...interesting idea. I'm sure there are other ways of escaping, some much easier ways, but I trust your father has thought it through."

Evidently, there was no hiding Apollo's apprehension. Even in his tone of voice and in the look on his face, it was easy to see that Apollo didn't think much of Daedalus' plan. He appeared to think the idea was ridiculous, unstable and had a high likelihood of going wrong, and that fact made Icarus frown.

"You don't like it?"

Apollo didn't want to disappoint Icarus, but he shook his head. "It seems outlandish. Surely there are much easier, and indeed much safer ways of escaping the island. Why not gain passage on a boat?"

"Minos would catch us before we made it to the Port. Or so my father thinks. And if he caught us, our situation would be much more fatal than before; father doesn't want to risk it."

"I'm sorry Icarus, but I still don't like it." Apollo said gravely. "I'll keep watch over you, I'll plead to Tyche for your success but I don't like it. There's too much to leave to chance. How will you even test that the wings work? By flying them? If they don't work you'll die before you even leave the island. Icarus, in my mind there's too many risks, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I don't want to be here." Icarus began. "I don't want to be stuck on this island, and now I'm being given the chance to escape. If the risk is death, then so be it. I'm not afraid."

"Any man with sense is afraid of death. It's the end of everything; you won't be able to live your free life if you die."

"Are you?" Icarus asked.

"Am I what?"

"Afraid of death? If any man is afraid of death, then surely you must be too."

"I am." Apollo answered. "I'm absolutely terrified."