Four: Lost
Icarus
"You can't catch me!"
Dappling Sunlight.
'Wanna bet?'
She peeks at me through the slatted boards on the window.
"You simply can't my darling. Well you can try. Here!"
Arms unfold, hers to mine. They grow out of thin air, golden, glowing, like her hair. From my skin, a tingling. The pain like needles, feather needles –
And they're back. My wings, they're back.
"They're better than back. These are invincible. Like you child. Come..."
She beckons, warm and light and blissful-
"Come fly with me."
My feet don't touch the ground. They don't need to. I don't need them to.
"Those are useless."
She tells me,
"Practical. Weak."
She's right. She always is. I only need my wings.
"Your wings are perfect, made of dreams themselves. Forget practicality. It'll kill you boy."
She holds my body, I can see, feel, touch unreal places, its… pleasure pulsing through my veins. I laugh. She laughs. We laugh together – laughing – I can't stop – I won't stop – on and on and on, forever, forever, for-
"SON!"
Huh?
"ICARUS!"
Dad?
I search everywhere, eyes straining, straining but all I can see is a flood of brightness so pure and golden and-
I close my eyes just for a second and she's gone and I see him. My father. He's far far below me, in the darkness. He has wings too, though they're a patchwork of wood and wax and mismatched feathers. My perfection shines bright in comparison. So much brighter than any human-
"Icarus! Ica-"
"Leave him." Her silky smooth honey words slip between my eyelids and pry them open, forcing me to look at her beauty, so beautiful...
"He is nothing. Fly with me. Fly higher, higher, come catch me!"
Yes...
"Higher."
higher...
"Come on..."
Hot.
No. NO! I know what happens next, it's happened before, I've got to stop to get away close your eyes you stupid boy, get away from the sun get away from-
I'm floating. Floating. My wings... they're still there. I'm fine. I'm still invincible.
I'm still-
"Not quite, boy."
I turn. She blazes behind me, on me, white hot fury scalds my skin, away it goes, my insides, she grabs onto my memories and –
"Say goodbye to your dadda."
I look down in terror. He looks up in terror, mouthing something, anything, everything, nothing, but I can't see and my wings are still perfect but his aren't, they're burning, feathers scorched arms failing and he's falling this time, falling down down to the dark his skin melting away to flesh to bone to-
'ARGH!'
I awake. The place is dark. Cold. Damp.
…outside.
I'm not at his house anymore. My captor's. Saviour? Where the...?
I look up from where I stand. Stand? I was asleep right? Standing?
I stumble forward. Lean on a tree. My legs are stiff, joints still aching, my ankle can't hold itself up. How did I get here? How long has it been? There's soft fabric all over my waist – new clothes? When was the last time…
Not a problem right no – ouch! The ground is twiggy and rough – it feels weird compared to the cold stone we live on – used to live on.
Round and round in circles, feel my way with blurry eyes.
Moonlight. It's cool. Safe. Boring. Kind.
A glimmer from the ground. Wet cold. I look down.
A pool. Lake. Heavy. Dark. Shadows. One big shadow. They all merge into each other.
A sound rises from the dark. One shadow splits itself from the rest, singing to itself in a low smooth voice. Hovering by the water like some half real sprite. Familiar...
"You came. I thought you wouldn't."
Is he talking to me?
"Ever since that boy crash landed from nowhere, I've been kind of busy. I'm sorry. He's nothing though. You're still... you know..."
It dawns on me. That voice? The same transfixed gaze into the water?
Three guesses at who it is.
Narcissus
I just keep looking at Him; it's as if I'm trying to breathe him in, memorise every part of him again for when we must leave each other.
I've found myself drawn to Him every night since that boy fell from the sky, but even five minutes without him would stretch into eternity. After you've known love, any time without it would tear you to shreds. I saw it with that falling child, his mangled body only mirroring his broken mind. The kid was alone and knew it – if anything its only served to remind me of everything I could lose.
I suppose He couldn't know, a being as perfect and beautiful as he. Or maybe he does know. Maybe He is wiser than all my years, and that's how he's figured to attract my attention. In all the months I've known Him, I've heard his voice aloud only once. Like music, calling to me. His tones are nothing like a human's, yet nowhere near as gratingly ostentatious as a god's. It is more like a feeling, a rupture that breaks into my mind and bones and flesh and heart, and for once in my life, makes me wish to do nothing more than bow at my knees in awe of him. I would happily submit myself to this position, to worshipping this god and fulfilling his every whim, for eternity, if only he would impart his name to my lips. Then, I could bring my love to the open, show the world, build shrines and altars and dedicated offerings –
No!
Forget that thought. As much as I want to cry to the heavens exulting the name of my love, and see Him swell in power from all the glorious libations poured upon his throne, the likes of them would only ruin our happiness, spoil our solitude and try to win his favour with their good intentions and their paltry offerings, and their pining, pleading, whining faces, as they do mine.
My eyes are only for you.
He speaks in silence, piercing me with that emerald gaze of his. He told me the same when, in a childlike moment, I ran to tell the troupe I called companions of my newfound happiness. They nodded along, but I could see they understood nothing, too terrified of my own beauty to call me mad.
Well fear not, I will not make the same mistake again.
'My eyes are only for you my love.'
I'm whispering all this to him and it seems like he's finally willing to talk; his lips twitch. Anticipation. I pause, give him room to bless my ears with that sweet music once more.
He taunts me though, leans forward and shuts his irresistible mouth.
I give a wail, I barely feel myself, frantic, eyes darting from here to forest, and more forest, looking around as if mere trees would offer some answer to the dilemma, some comfort. Look at me. He's driving me near insane, but I love him!
I want Him!
I want to hold him, to reach him.
I want to feel his cold skin on mine, to make it warm, to feel it blossom like ice crystals under my skin, to lie with him and be one with him and feel him within me –
I need to feel You.
Come, come from the water? Why do you leave me pining here on this dry barren earth with nothing to hold by day but your memory? Sunrise is soon. Do I have to stay for it?
He stares back, the tears from my eyes ripple across his. He flinches. Then his gaze merges back with mine.
Join me.
'Can I…?'
Kccratch!
Something moves in the shadows. I freeze, some appendage of mine paused midway to the water. I scramble hastily to put away the part of myself I've exposed. Grasp the hilt of my knife.
'Who's there?'
…
'Show yourself or I swear I'll run you through!'
…
'Um… it-it's Icarus.'
'Who the hell is Icarus?' I ask.
'M-me,' comes a stuttered reply. I squint into the shadows until I see the boy I saved.
'You have a name.' I don't know why I'm surprised. A glance back at the lake, shows him peering over his shoulder, coy, mocking.
You'll never reach me. Your mind is too distracted.
A flash of anger, it doesn't collide with the adoration, only causes it to burn stronger. In that moment I decide: leave Him be. For once I'll be the one to walk out on him. Show him that I'm not the only one who has everything to lose. As if in understanding, a moment of regret glimpses his features before I shut them from my vision, at least for another day.
'Look', I turn back to the Icarus kid,
'We need to talk'.
'Yeah, yeah, course,' he mumbles.
'I don't know a thing about you, and you probably want to know that I'm not a mass murderer', I chuckle at my own joke. His face remains stony. Obviously still suspicious.
'Come,' I motion inside,
'Let's get some good wine and a bite to eat.'
Icarus
'So... um... what's your name then?'
I stumble over my words, even though it's the most obvious thing I could ask. I'm groggy yeah, I guess. But something about his shape in the moonlight makes me speechless. So cool and pale, his face feels like soothing balm, nothing like Her... well they both share the same unreal… ness? I guess. But –
'Narkissos. My name is Narcissus. Of Tenos or Boeotia, depending on who you ask.'
'R-right.'
That smile again. The one filled with magic.
Ugh, what the hell am I thinking? That dream has my brain fried, it's been the worst one in… how long has it been?
'You've been asleep for quite some time,' he states, as if he just read my mind,
'How long?'
'I'd say you've been in and out of consciousness for about two weeks.'
Two weeks? You think I'd feel better after a nap like that, but I'm still exhausted.
'I suppose having your bones relocated takes it out of you.'
We walk in silence for around ten minutes. I feel like I should say something, but he's going really fast. It's all I can do to keep up with him through the dark and the trees on this narrow winding path, but eventually we stumble (well, I stumble, he glides annoyingly easily) out of the woods. How in hades did I get in there in the first place? Must have sleepwalked. Haven't done that since we first got put in the tower.
Through a gate and into a courtyard – the building is huge – two floors, how many rooms? – I can tell even in the moonlight – all marble and pillars and mosaic floors – is he the only one that lives here? He takes me through the dark hallway – how is he seeing anything? It's like he's nocturnal, his eyes light in the dark. Speaking of lights, he pulls a spark as if out of nowhere, lighting a taper, then a torch. We're standing in what looks like a small dining room, klines and short tables and sculptures and flowers scattered everywhere. I nearly crash into a vase.
Nari-Narsy-Neriss-Narki – Narcissus, dammit! (it's a full mouth to remember and to say) – Narcissus, points for me to sit on a kline, then takes a jar from a shelf.
'You must be thirsty,' he pours deep red liquid – wine – into a fancy looking kylix. Sniffs it. Takes a sip. Sighs.
'Um, I'd better not.' I gesture awkwardly to the second cup of wine he's pouring.
'Dad never really let me drink wine. Said it clouds the mind.'
Narcissus frowns at me.
'This isn't strong at all.'
'Yeah but they mixed it extra strong cos they knew he was a genius and didn't want us to think our way out.'
Narcissus raises his eyebrows.
'Uh… okay. So… what do you drink then?'
'Most of the time water. Collect it from the rain because sometimes the guards give us water but it its dirty so we have to – '
'Guards?'
'Um… never mind.'
Oops – change the subject, quick!
'Look, Dad said not to drink wine someone gives to you so I'm not going to drink it. But thanks.'
Narcissus scoffs.
'Do you ever think for yourself? Do anything without daddy's permission? You're seriously telling me you've never drank a sip of wine. Even babes drink wine. How old are you?'
'Fifteen years. Nearly sixteen.' I mutter trying to put the same poison in my words as he does in his,
'And in case you haven't noticed I am thinking for myself. I don't see Dad anywhere, do you?'
Narcissus, pauses for a second and watches me. Then, in a voice that sounds almost genuinely sad,
'Hey kid. Icarus. I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. You've been through a lot, I can understand that.'
'Hmph. What could you possibly understand?'
'More than you think.' His voice has an edge to it now, he's trying hard to be nice. Too hard, it's not normal for him. I guess I should give him a chance, but I can't let my guard down. Can't trust him. Not yet. He's too spotless to trust. Too unreal. Too beautiful.
Last time I trusted someone that beautiful I –
'Really? What would you understand about being lonely and abandoned? You who can make every woman and man apparently faint at your feet.' I say bitterly.
Suddenly a short laugh, just as bitter, but more worn-out than mine, escapes his lips.
'I know what it's like to be left behind, Icarus. Uncared for. Unwanted. Longing after someone who keeps playing games with you...'
He smirks all casual, but his eyes are far away. I somehow recognise his words.
'You don't need them. Anyone who holds you back, who pretends they care and then leaves you with nothing but messy memories. You don't need that.'
He sips at the kylix smoothly. I glare at my own untouched cup, his words running through my ashy brain.
'You don't have to drink if you don't want to,' Narcissus diverts into less painful words, 'Though you'll be missing out on the finest in the Mediterranean.'
My hand snaps out and brings the cup to my lips. I try to stifle a cough. It's more intense than I expected, a rich, velvety texture that coats my tongue and a perfume that wriggles its way into my lungs.
'Hahaha, atta boy.'
He smiles as he laughs. After a pull on my cheeks, I realise I'm smiling too for what feels like the first time in weeks. I don't drink anymore, I can't lie, I hate the taste, but I can't take my eyes off the pattern on the pottery. It's Helios, emblazoned on the black glaze in burning yellow, dancing with his wives, Her as well probably, she's the brightest. Latched on with chains to Apollo's chariot, being dragged down his path by blazing sky stallions. I don't believe such things. She should be pictured free, if she's meant to be a goddess, a nymph, not under the reigns of some slave driver. No chain would agree hold Her. She doesn't need us, it's us who follows her every move through forever...
'How can you afford such pretty things?' I mutter, not sure where to go with my words.
'Well,' the smirk is back, 'I'm a hunter by day, leader of my own troupe, which keeps me fed and fit. But people pay me much for... favours, and that keeps me luxuriated. Let's just say I'm well liked, well known and well endowed.'
'Uh...'
'Enough about me,' he's gonna cut off my questions with his, I can tell,
'Do tell Icarus, I'm curious. How in all of Hades and Olympus, did you end up falling out of the sky?'
