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Icarus was quite taken aback by Apollo's response. It was so... nonchalant and humble in comparison to the arrogant and self-absorbed nature he had heard the sun god possessed.

He also looked nothing like his marble counterparts. His hair wasn't wavy and neatly atop his head; it was dark, long and in dreadlocks that cascaded down his back like a jug of spilt wine over a table. His cheekbones were a lot sharper, his lips slightly fuller, his nose defined and his eyes large and emotional. And from what Icarus could tell, he was slightly shorter than he'd thought the god to be, and less athletic. He could've passed for a normal man, if he were to talk through town, albeit a very attractive normal man.

"I always imagined gods to look a lot less..." Icarus paused. "Mortal like."

Apollo smiled, and almost laughed at him, as if he had heard Icarus's words a thousand times, which he probably had. Maybe even more so. "Mortals were created in our image, I suppose."

Icarus nodded, having been told the story of mortal creation many, many times. The story of two halves being whole, the story of a person's eternal love being their other half.

It had never occurred to Icarus up until that point that he'd never find his other half. Not whilst he sat trapped in Minos' tower.

"Why are you here?" He asked, still scared to make eye contact with him.

Apollo though, had no shame in making consistent eye contact with Icarus, as if he were staring a beautiful work of art. "I've heard your words, every single time you called for my help." He frowned. "And before today, I never said anything. Today, I decided I'd come to you, offer my comforts in any way I can, because you seem to have no one in this world, and everyone needs someone."

It somewhat warmed Icarus' heart to hear that his prayers had been heard, that he hadn't been talking to nothing, but then his heart only went cold when he wondered why no one did anything, why no one offered to help him or rescue him. It may have felt nice to be heard, but it felt worse to be heard and then ignored.

"Why didn't you say anything before now?" Icarus replied, sounding almost bitter. "If you heard my prayers, every single one, why didn't you help me? Why didn't you give me sign?"

Apollo's face fell as far as it could as he reached delicately for Icarus' hand. He took it in his own and squeezed it gently. "Every time a god interferes with a mortals' life, it doesn't end well." He said quietly, as he ran his smooth thumb over Icarus' dry hand. "I didn't want to ruin your life, as I knew I would if I tried to help."

"What is there of my life that isn't already in ruin? I have nothing to loose, because there is nothing for me here."

Apollo couldn't help but smile. "You underestimate how much other people value you. Your mother for example, you are her entire world. And your father? He loves you more than you think. He's building the Labyrinth for you, so he can show you the world and all of its' wonders." He said. "You have many things to loose."

Icarus frowned and found himself unable to meet Apollo's warm gaze. "I wish you would've interfered in my life." He said sadly. "Maybe you could've helped me leave this forsaken island; you still could, if you wanted to."

"No god's history with mortals is good, mine is no exception. I want to help, I want to whisk you away from this place, but I'm afraid all I can do is comfort you. It's all my morals will allow."

"Since when did the gods have morals?" Icarus spat. "Poseidon forced Pasiphaë to fall in love with a bull and give birth to a beast, Zeus killed Asclepius for helping people, not to mention you had Marasyas flayed alive. It sounds completely hypocritical to me for you to claim to have any sense of morality at all."

The Fall of Icarus (Book 1 in the Apollo series)Where stories live. Discover now