“Father! Father! I’m flying!” Icarus exclaimed in glee. His Father’s invention had worked!

He was flying!

As he soared higher, the blond boy felt the air breeze over his pale skin. It felt heavenly! It felt as if he hadn’t a care in the world!

He whooped with joy and arched his body, sending his figure into a soumersalt.

Truly, this had to be the best feeling!

“Icarus, my son,” Daedalus began, his tone taking one of warning, “Don’t go too close to the sun!”

Icarus laughed gleefully and dipped, hovering right above the water. He stretched out his hand and leaned to the left, water running over his left arm.

He saw the fish leap out of the water and couldn’t help but feel some connection as he flew with them.

“Icarus!” Daedalus laughed deeply, soaring somewhere in the middle of the horizon, “Didn’t I say not to close to the water, boy?”

Salty ocean breeze sprinkled on the young boy’s face. He laughed as if every tiny thing ever seen was gold; it sure felt like it.

He was out of the prison! He was free! He felt as if nothing could stop him now! Not even the power of almighty Zeus who refused to listen to his prayers.

Not even Poseidon, ruler the seas, who turned a blind eye to their calls!

The world was up for grabs, and Icarus took it with his hands.

With feeling, he tried to do a loop, grinning ear-to-ear as he did. The air blew his hair back, and the sun kissed his skin. A feeling of elation shot through his body, seeming to rejuvenate it as he flew side to side. His laughter echoched throughout the whole sea.

King Minos has nothing on him.

But that feeling was outlived as Icarus soared higher, and higher, and higher, slowly getting closer and closer to the sun.

“Icarus!” His father’s voice sounded distant. Was he too near? Hah! Nonsense!

“I’m fine, fath-“ he felt something drip. Something hot.

Like wax.