ICARUS SHIVERED. A single thought crossed his mind: What had happened and why was he locked in this cold, confusing place? Small, chubby hands wiped away rebellious tears that dared fall from his eyes as he wondered what he did to deserve this. What did his father, the man so adored, do to merit this treatment? He looked upon his father's dark and disconnected face. An unfamiliar emotion burned in the pit of Icarus' stomach; this was his father's fault. That much he knew.

His body jostled as the guard grasped the back of his neck, shoving him down into a deep dark abyss. His eyes turned wide as he looked up at his father's eyes. And in that moment, he swore to remember what happened to him.

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Icarus' hands shook and his eyes drooped with exhaustion. His fingers burned with pain as he stood to piece together material beside his father. He paused from his work momentarily to gaze upon his father's face with disdain. If only his father had been smarter, he wouldn't be suffering. A burning sensation filled his stomach. Hatred. This time, he knew it was his father's fault; he wasn't four years old anymore. His father glanced out of the corner of his eye to spot his son having paused in his work but didn't look long enough to notice the angry glare being sent his way.

"Get back to work! We have to finish this before the guards come to collect it tomorrow!"

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A harsh hiss of breath left Icarus as his father placed more melted wax onto his back to secure the feathers. He looked at the lone, rusty clock on the wall to check the time the two had left. Five minutes.

"There," His father breathed, setting the wax down. "Your wings are attached. Remember, you mustn't fly too high, or the sun will melt the wax and you will fall. And you mustn't fly too low or the sea will weigh down your feathers and you will surely sink into the deep abyss of Poseidon's realm."

They exchanged a brief nod of understanding before they prepared to set off whenever the guard came. The hatch above their heads opened. Icarus squinted; his eyes sensitive to the light after being kept in darkness his entire life.

One powerful push off the prison that had encased him for several years and Icarus took flight.

As he soared in the sky, his chest felt light. He was free. Free from the prison they had kept him in. Free from the crime he had never committed. Free from his distant father. A bird had been set free from his chest and he no longer had to worry.

Taking in his surroundings, one particular thing caught his eye. It wasn't familiar to him, but he knew what it was: the sun. Apollo. A giddy feeling overtook him, and he raced to try to reach the god. The light blinded him more and more the closer he got, but he pushed forward nonetheless. He wouldn't let all his pain be for nothing.

When he finally reached Apollo, flying level with him, the god's eyes widened at the sight of the mortal flying beside him, then his cheeks flushed. Icarus smiled at the god and whispered:

"I am Icarus. It's nice to meet you, Apollo."

The youthful man laughed at the god's dumbstruck face and went on to talk some more to the god. Slowly but surely, though, he noticed the burning sensation on his back. He threw a glance behind him and saw the very thing his father had warned him about happening. The wax was melting. Bitterness filled the young man's heart as he gazed upon Apollo's face once more. He sent a wry smile the god's way before his wings gave in.

Icarus did not scream when he fell. He did not cry, or beg for mercy. He did not reach out, silently pleading to be rescued when he felt the wax melt off his back. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed a long, hearty laugh

Icarus laughed the entire time he fell, his laughter only stopping when he hit the dark, unforgiving waves of the sea beneath him.

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Apollo sat in his sun chariot, filled with shock. He had thought that maybe this time he would finally get happiness; the mortal had climbed that high after all. Surely he would beat the odds and be able to live with the immortals? His father was a genius, he should have figured out a way to trump death.

A bittersweet smile overcame the god's face when he concluded that no matter whom he loved, or who loved him, they would all leave him eventually. He was destined to be alone.

Countless thoughts rushed through the god's head at that time, before he made a decision. An oath.

"I, the god Apollo, swear to never love another being, mortal or immortal, man, woman, or other unless they have the courage of Icarus. Let it be known I will not love until another one has the bravery to build wings to Apollo and live to tell the tale."

The sky rumbled above him, turning dark as he sealed his oath in place. Three women gazed at one another after having chills. They knew an immortal had made an oath on the River Styx.

A golden thread glowed bright along with an ashy grey thread. Originally destined to be apart after intertwining for a short amount of time. The two threads seemed to take a life of their own as they unravelled themselves from the tapestry of life and paved their new road in the tapestry.