Icarus laughed as he fell
Credits to fiona for the original poem!
Here is what they don’t tell you:
Icarus knew he was in too deep. They’d said it out loud, leaning against the cave entrance.
“I’m in too deep now.”
The words left their lips in a shaky whisper that they knew no one would ever hear. They felt so helplessly, utterly alone as they sobbed against the cold rock. The word their friend had once called them circled through their mind.
Failure.
They knew he was right. They’d failed at being a good brother, a good friend, and they’d even failed at being themself.
They knew their back pressed against the same stone wall that had been splattered with the blood of their best friend by the blade of their father. Within the walls of this cavern, the fighting between Centross and their Dad replayed in their head. The purple scythe of the violet reaper turning their father mortal, and sealing their best friend's death wish. The golden sword through his chest. His smile as he faded into the stars, leaving nothing behind but the scythe, the now mortal god, and the son the god had almost killed.
Icarus laughed as he fell.
They felt their body wrack with cries mixed with confused, hysteric laughter. They felt disconnected from the winged person who stood from the altar staggering towards the fallen god.
They heard themself screaming,
“You killed him! You killed David!” Their father simply nodded. Almost as if to suggest it had to be done. As if their best friend had to be killed. Their mind flashed to the memories they’d tried so hard to bury.
Threw his head back and
yelled into the winds,
They were in the obsidian bunker, reaching through the gap of the trap that had opened barely enough for them to see.
“David?!” They smiled madly, their matted hair crusted with crimson. A drop of blood traced it’s way down their cheek bone.
“David let me out!” They demanded, their voice was rough and scratchy from hours of yelling. The man looked down at them with cold purple eyes, smiling at the trapped one like a hunter smiles at an animal caught in their snare.
“Y’know, Sherb,” The cloaked man smirked, “I don’t think I will.”
They felt their heart plop into their stomach as they tasted their lunch on their tongue as it forced its way up their throat. “David! Let me out!”
“Sherbert. Here’s what you don’t realize. Once a failure, always a failure.”
“Wha-” Icarus was cut off by the darkening of the world around them. They felt the pain of landing before they felt the explosion of pain in their head.
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.
And then they were back in the endstone reset, on the destroyed roof of Will’s estate. Their hands shook, rain pelting their face, running down the deep purple inset lines of corruption before dripping off their chin. They flung open their arms and screamed at the heavens,
“Isn’t this enough? I killed her! I did what you wanted!” They were hyperventilating now, their chest pressing uncomfortably against the bow slung around their shoulder. The bow they’d just used to kill their best friend for a goddess that hadn’t spoken to them, or shown that she knew he existed.
(There is a bitter triumph
in crashing when you should be
soaring.)
They were standing on a trail of “wack.” As they began to take off, the base of their feathers turned into shards of gold that jabbed into their back and shoulder blades, piercing their skin as the feathers and muscles of their wings crystallized into a mess of amethyst and gold. In a moment of silence that most likely only lasted a few seconds, Icarus realized they were on the ground. Mere milliseconds after this thought, the metal that was now their wings shattered into sharp shards, slicing into their skin, logging into their back, digging into the ground.
One word through the pain.
Quixis.
The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
They were standing before the lectern at Haley's funeral, watching the explosion of the tree speed towards them. They heard the loud boom and the rattling of their bones. The fire clawed towards them, dragging itself on the ground like a monster lunging towards its prey. The fire nipped at their two-toned jacket, ashes burning their eyes. It caught them up in flames before the world went blank and they heard a page being torn.
Feathers floated like prayers
past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
Snippets of other worlds flew past them, and they caught only a few glimpses. Them trapped in a concrete box trying to save a girl named Charlotte. Them running from a horse sized chicken. Them in front of a screen, talking to words on a box.
Death breathed burning kisses
against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
Then they were inside the cave. Watching the fighting once more from their place at the altar. Their chest aching as the skin stretched and rearranged in a glitching mess, each unstable breath more painful than the last. Centross and Fable pushing each other around the cave, each one landing punch after punch. Them, not knowing who to defend. Seeing their friend fade into the void. Doing nothing to help him.
Yelling.
Sobbing.
Laughter.
Betrayal.
Then, Fable walking towards them, framed by the sunset.
“I can bring him back.”
The sun painted everything
in shades of gold.
They were back outside the cave. Where they knew they actually were. Curled up into themself. He could get him back. He just needed more power. He was going to kill the primordials and rid the earth of death, or burn the world to shambles if doing so failed. And Icarus, his caged little bird, was going to stand muted at his side in the ashes of a fire they could have put out.
After all,
(There is a certain beauty
in setting the world on fire
and watching from the centre
of the flames.)
THIS IS SO GOOD HELLO??
STAWP-
but anygays, i hold it in my lil hands. Me when fish in a birdcage. Me when I get to write about all their trauma but also birb
