Hasn't everyone stood on a precipice with the wind blowing through their hair and their eyes following the path of birds? Hasn't everyone wished they could fly?

My father, Daedalus, was imprisoned here so that the jealous king Minos could benefit from all of his inventions. For that is what my father does; he creates things. Some mind blowing things, others that people take for granted. It's been his ruin though, for we have been stuck on Crete since before I can remember.

Minos broke the rules of the guest-host relationship though, and has reaped the wrath of the gods. His wife fornicated with a cow, resulting in the monsterous Minotaur; Androgeus, his eldest and heir, was killed; Acacallis, his daughter, was exiled to Lybia; Ariadne, another daughter, betrayed him and ran away with Theseus; Pheadra, his youngest daughter, married the man who seduced Ariadne and then committed suicide; Glaucus, his son, was killed as a child but then brought back changed; Catreus, another son, was killed by his own son. Out of seven children only one was untouched by the gods.

He hasn't been unkind to us, Father has his workshop and I have free reign of the palace. It's not the same though. Freedom becomes the most important thing in your life when you don't have it. Not true freedom. When you know that if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to leave the island.

I think that's why I have always soared with the birds in my dreams. Who has more freedom than the birds, who aren't even chained by gravity.

It was my idea which inspired Father's last invention on Crete. His beautiful wings.

Two pairs. One for me and one for him. Wings to fly away from Crete and to freedom. Wings of wood, beeswax and feathers. They are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

He asked me once, if I could have anything in the world what would it be?

I answered instantly.

Wings.

I spread my arms out and closed my eyes as if I could feel the wind lifting me from the ground and embracing me.

Now my dreams have come true. I shall fly.

Father looks nervous, but I have dreamed about this since I first say a gull hovering above me dancing in the sea gusts.

The winds are heavy along my back and arms, but I have practiced all winter with weights and simulations to strengthen myself for this journey.

I can't stop smiling.

Father goes first and runs of the cliff. At first, I think it doesn't work as he plummets to the ocean below him. The wind catches his wings before he falls too far, though. He's flying. My heart soars to see him arcing through the air with his powerful wings pumping through the air, lifting him ever higher.

I am supposed to wait for him to signal me, but I can't wait any longer. I run off and feel the wind whip through my hair as I free fall down.

My heart's in my throat as I think that I've done something wrong, but just as my father's wings took a moment to catch, mine did too.

And now I am flying.

Truly flying.

It's better than I imagined it. The wind all around me, dancing along my wings and tearing tears from my eyes.

My arms fall into the habit of pumping through the air easily. As if I was born to do this. As if flying were my true calling in life.

I knew I was always meant to be high above the earth with just the air and the wind to deal with.

I can't stop laughing now.

A laugh of pure elation. My father is ahead of me, steadily keeping himself at a level height above the sea. He doesn't even look like he's enjoying this. He's got such a concentrated look on his face. Not like me, I have never been happier. Never been freer.

I twirl in the wind, dance across clouds, swoop down until I can trail my toes in the ocean before pumping up over my father's head.

He's trying to yell something at me. Be careful, he says. Don't go to low or to high. There are dangers both ways.

I know this, of course I do. I roll my eyes and keep playing with the wind. It's even easier now then it was before hand.

I never want to come down. Even though I can already feel the stiffness in my muscles, I don't ever want to leave this freedom.

Every cloud looks as soft as dandelion down. Why not touch one and brag to the world that I've flown through the clouds.

My arms are pumping me even higher before the thought is finished. Higher and higher. The sun looks so big from here. Not the distant orb it seems on earth. It's warmer and bigger when you fly.

I don't notice the first of my feather's melting off the wooden frames. I just keep climbing, ignoring my father's advice. He doesn't know anything. He clearly isn't meant to fly like I was. I've dreamed about this forever. He just wants to get from one place to another.

When I notice that my wings are dribbling away behind me. It's to late. I've lost the grace I had. I've lost the power I had. I wasn't flying anymore. I was just gliding. Slowly falling. Ever lower.

The ocean, dark and threatening, spreads out from beneath me without end. There are no boats. No island. The oceans around Hellas are littered with such things, but now there are none.

For the first time since I leapt from the cliff, I feel fear. The crippling, paralyzing chill of fear that stops me from even fighting against the inevitable. I know that I won't make it. Father, hindered by the same wings that will save him, won't be able to save me without sacrificing himself.

Now it's not the wind that makes the tears stream across my face. I can't tear my eyes away from the ocean that looms every closer. I can't even turn to my father who cries out with such fear in his voice. Poor man.

Only my toes hit the ocean, what a mockery of my earlier revels, do I look back up at the sky. All my fear leaves me in that instant. The sky is still above me, clear and as beautiful as ever.

All I had ever wanted to do was fly. And I had. I had truly flown. Not the awkward limping my father is doing. I had flown like I was born to it. What more could I ask? The last thing my father sees is the fulfilled smiled of complete bliss on my face before I get swallowed in the ocean and dragged below by the wooden wings strapped to my arms. Now I shall fly for ever more.