Icarus couldn't live any day the same after that night. It was as if everything had changed, and something most certainly had.

Whilst his world hadn't changed, whilst his circumstance hadn't changed, his life certainly had. He was still alone, he was still trapped in Minos' palace, he still had an desire to escape, but now Icarus had a glimmer of hope. And if he didn't have that, he at least had comfort; he had someone, in the form of a god, who cared for him and was trying to alleviate his pain.

Even if nothing had changed, at least it felt like it did.

The following day passed slower than Icarus would've liked. He spend most of it in the kitchens, with his mother and some of the other houses slaves, making bread, and whilst he enjoyed the rare time he got to spend with his mother, he just couldn't seem to focus on anything. His thoughts always went back to: Will Apollo visit me tonight?

Apollo had no obligation to him- Icarus knew that. There was nothing other than a feeble, breakable promise forcing the sun god to return to his window, but Icarus liked, or rather wanted, to think that Apollo's promise and morals would bring him back, but it's rather clear to anyone with eyes and ears that gods don't have morals or empathy- Icarus told Apollo that much.

Regardless of what Apollo thought about his ability to change, Icarus hoped that he really had changed from the god in the stories he'd heard in the past.

"Icarus, I think you've kneeled the dough enough." Naukrate smiled, putting her hand on top of his gently.

"Oh, sorry." Icarus replied, still sounding somewhat lost. "I was distracted."

"By what?" Eugeneia, one of the other house slaves, said as she also kneaded some bread dough on the other side of the table. "Do you have your eye on one of the girls?"

Icarus' face wrinkled in disgust. "No!"

"Then, have one of the boys caught your eye?" Hypatia, one of Pasiphaë's personal slaves, added. "It's completely fine if they have."

"I'm not allowed to say." He bluffed, as he handed the kneaded dough to his mother without meeting the gaze of the other two slave women.

"You're not allowed to say, are you?" Eugeneia grinned, as she looked at Hypatia, who was thinking the same thing as her: Icarus is lying.

"Are you sure you're not allowed to say?" Hypatia continued. "Come on Icarus, tell us what's got you so wound up!"

"Stop teasing him." Naukrate frowned at the other two slave women. "It's probably something to do with Daedalus' work in the labyrinth, isn't it?" She turned to Icarus, as if to say: if you want them to shut up, say yes.

"Yes, it is." Icarus lied. "I'm not allowed to talk about the labyrinth. No one is."

Hypatia laughed. "You're not allowed to talk about the labyrinth because Pasiphaë wants everyone to forget she had sex with a bull and gave birth to a beast." She said. "Did you ever see it? It was absolutely hideous."

"And here I thought Pasiphaë and Minos we're finally going to have a child together." Eugeneia shook her head. "At this point, I don't think they ever will. He seems a lot more interested in his slaves than his wife!"

Whilst Icarus was uncomfortable with the previous topic of conversation, he wasn't particularly fond of this one either. He knew his mother was one of those slaves Eugeneia was talking about, his mother was one of those slaves that Minos was interested in. He didn't want to think of the things he did to her.

Icarus kept his gaze low and worked for the rest of the morning without giving Eugeneia or Hypatia a second glance. He took the dough from Eugeneia's hands without looking at her, kneaded the dough without making eye contact with Hypatia across the table and handed the dough over to his mother with glazed-eyes.

They were finished by midday, and so Icarus was dismissed for the day whilst Naukrate, Eugeneia and Hypatia went to do the palace's laundry. Icarus, quite strangely, always liked the idea of doing laundry, making dirty things clean again, but to do the laundry he'd have to leave the palace to go to the nearest river, and he wasn't allowed to leave.

Icarus always wondered why the laundry couldn't be done in the palace baths. The water was clean, for the most part anyway. His mother would always say but that's not what the baths are for, but then he'd reply I think Minos does things in those baths besides bathing.

It didn't take long for Icarus to reach his room in Minos' tower, but when he got back he realised he wasn't alone in there. It was clear that his father had come back because his plans and diagrams were spread messily over his bed, and it was clear that he was still here because Icarus could hear him stomping around on the floor above, in the room that he used as his workshop.

"Father?" Icarus called out, as he took his familiar seat on the windowsill. "Are you okay?"

It took Daedalus a few seconds to respond, but after hearing a few things fall over and the odd strange thump, he called out down the stairwell: "Yes Icarus!I'm fine."

"What are you doing back here so early?"

This time, instead of yelling down the stairs, Daedalus walked down them and began sifting through his notes. "I've nearly finished the labyrinth, but I don't want to finish it. Ergo, I'm stalling for time Icarus, I'm trying to think."

Icarus frowned. "Why are you stalling? If you finish the labyrinth, we can leave. You won't be tied to Minos anymore."

"Icarus, we're never going to leave!" Daedalus yelled. "Minos has no intention of ever letting us go! Why would he let the two people who know the secrets of the labyrinth go? He's either going to keep us here forever or he's going to kill us. You have to be realistic Icarus, we're not going anywhere."

Icarus looked to the floor. "You lied to me." He mumbled.

"I did no such thing." Daedalus replied. "I never said we'd leave, you've just twisted my words."

"When I was six, we sat together on this windowsill, and you told me a story. You told me about Athens, Sparta, Lesbos and Mykonos. You told me about the places you had been, before you started working for Minos." He said. "I asked you, would you ever take me there. Would I ever get to see those places you talked about? And do you remember what you told me?"

Daedalus didn't say anything.

He probably didn't remember what he said.

To most people, that conversation would've been insignificant; forgotten in the graveyard of other exchanges, but to Icarus it meant more. To little Icarus, it meant hope; but now to a teenaged Icarus, it only meant lies.

"You said you'd take me there." Icarus said quietly. "You said you'd show me the Acropolis, the Athena Parthenos. You said you'd show me the world, knowing you wouldn't be able to. You lied."

Daedalus didn't say anything ad he gathered up his notes from his bed. "I suppose I'll see you later Icarus." He replied, before turning away and disappearing down the stairs, and likely to the labyrinth.

"Is the world against me?" Icarus asked himself, as he let a single sad tear fall down his face. "Is there nothing for me?"

Daedalus didn't come back that night, so Icarus was left to his own devices, on his lonesome in the tower. It wasn't anything new, being on his own, but he had a feeling that his father was just avoiding him, rather than working tirelessly.

Or maybe he was. Maybe Daedalus was trying to engineer both his and Icarus' downfall.

"My, my." Apollo said in his calming, ethereal tone. "What's gotten you so upset?"

Icarus sighed, sitting absent-mindedly on his bed. "My father. He lied to me." He replied, not meeting Apollo's gaze as he pityingly took a seat next to him on the bed. "Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's not the first time, and it most certainly won't be last."

All Apollo did was smile sadly and rest his hand on top of Icarus' clenched fist. "I'm sorry he makes you feel that way, but if it's any comfort to you, my father isn't a reliable man either."

"Your father is Zeus, the king of the gods." Icarus stated, as if it were supposed to mean anything.

"Exactly." Apollo frowned. "Being king of the gods means he trusts no one. He doesn't trust anyone but himself with anything, not even his own children." He said, almost sounding bitter. "And he isn't exactly a beacon of truth himself. He's an unreliable man, one can never put any faith in him. So maybe we are in the same boat, dear Icarus."

Icarus let his hand relax and mould to the contours of Apollo's, which then tightened around his fingers.

"It may sound absurd to you Icarus." Apollo began. "But being a god is hard. The constant war, deception, and lies-it makes me want to be mortal. I want to be free from this." He gestured to himself.

"I'm afraid to tell you, but if you were mortal you'd be escaping nothing." Icarus replied. "The war, the deception, the lies; it still all there, we just blame the gods for it. We orchestrate every war that breaks out, every lie told and every deception spoken of, but despite that, and despite knowing that, we refuse to take responsibility for anything."

Apollo smiled, tightened his grip on Icarus' hand further and sank his head onto his shoulder, which made Icarus tense for a moment, but he quickly relaxed into Apollo's warm touch.

"Dear Icarus, it seems we are more alike than either of us first thought." Apollo said, with a comforted smile on his face.

"How so?" Icarus asked in reply.

"We both feel left behind by our families. We both feel distrustful of them. We both feel alone in a world that we shouldn't."

"Yesterday, you were telling me there was more out there for me, you were so jovial. What's changed?"

"Last night, I was trying to comfort you. I was simply trying to be there for you. But now I've realised, if I want to be by your side, and if I want to be close to you, I have to be honest with you, I can't lie to you." He sighed. "I feel alone in a world of people who worship me, who bow down to me and give their lives to me. I'm drowning in what I don't have."

"You have me." Icarus said. "If you'll take me, you can have me."

Apollo smiled. "I most certainly will. I will gladly have all of you; in sadness, in happiness, in hope and in loss. I will have you as you are."

Icarus felt his cheeks warming, but he stayed where he was, with Apollo's head resting calmly on his welcoming shoulder.

"Now." Icarus began. "Why don't you tell me about Athens?"