fading suns

εννέα

Icarus smiled absent mindedly as Lakis's words ringed through his mind, reverberating and echoing within his skull till they created a dulcet melody of glowing light and sparkling stars. He had told him to stay by his side; which may not have seemed like much, but to him it meant the world. Icarus had applied the herbs which Lakis had handed him over and miraculously his wounds got healed in no time. His creamy skin was unblemished, with no trace of wounds or scars－a rare sight for him. He tried to identify and find the herbs which had worked like a miracle for him, but he couldn't find them anywhere. He had been scrounging herbs from the royal gardens for years and had developed an extensive knowledge in botany, yet for some reason unknown to him he was unable to recognise them.

Meanwhile, the preparations for the annual sacrifice of the Athenian tributes were going with utmost fervour and zeal. Icarus could feel the pit growing in his stomach as the day of destruction loomed near the corner. There were still two months left, yet he couldn't help but feel uneasy as each second passed. He could feel the sinking feeling weighing him down, constricting his chest and asphyxiating him with every breath he took. He tried to avoid Minos at all costs, his eyes deflecting from him whenever he saw him. He now only saw fleeting glances of him, because he had become much busier than before with the day of doom nearing. Minos had become livelier than before, hosting grand feasts filled with fruity wine and beastly laughter, every night for his council and his people. The feasts use to continue well after midnight, with Minos drunkenly boasting about himself and the power that resided with him. The sycophantic council members egged him on to harp about his wealth and cavalry, trying to establish themselves as his loyal servants causing Icarus to scoff at the degree of flattery they were willing to use just to win his favour. Icarus usually didn't attend the feasts except when his father was required to be present there. He hated hearing their thunderous laughs and their inebriated servile ramblings.

Lakis used to be present there every night to play his lyre, a task which he hated to the core. He hated how the drunken men couldn't care less about the music that was being played for them and only cared about money, power, women and how to win over Minos. Icarus could feel his gold flecked hazel eyes burning with aversion as his fingers skimmed over the strings of his lyre with utmost dexterity creating a stream of honeyed euphonious melodies. Icarus loved seeing him play the lyre, he could stay still for hours just to watch him play the instrument and loose himself in the mellifluous harmony that he created. Whenever Lakis played the lyre, he felt at peace despite the constant turmoil that erupted in his mind. After he was finished playing, Lakis used to take his seat next to Icarus if he was present and used to talk to him about everything under the sun in his mellow voice that could make suns melt at his feet. Icarus remembered how one day he had slipped his hand in his, the warmth of his hand making his skin heat up furiously as his mind spun with ecstasy. It had now become a ritual for them to hold hands as they talked about countless subjects － from philosophy to medicine to court politics.

It was an evening like this when Lakis had placed his warm hands in his, clasping his fingers as he lazily rubbed circles on the pad of his palm with his thumb. He leaned closer to him till his rosebud lips were brushing the cartilage of his ear, his warm breath sending electric jolts through his skin.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered as his fingers softly traced lines from his palm to his forearm. Icarus could feel all the blood rush to his cheeks, a scarlet hue staining his creamy skin and flushing him with warmth.

Icarus nodded as his eyes scanned across the room. The men were completely inebriated and were creating a huge ruckus as they all drunkenly quarreled over some trivial affairs. Lakis pulled Icarus towards him and gave him a smile before breaking into a sprint. They ran across the room, unnoticed by the others. They continued to run despite reaching the hallways, their footsteps swift and their smiles wider than ever as the cool night air swept across their face. They ran across the lush green royal lawns to the astronomy tower—a place, which only the royal astronomers were allowed to access apart from the King himself. Even family members couldn't enter the tower, without being accompanied by the King himself. Icarus had only visited the tower once, with his mother Naucrate who was being accompanied by Minos. She had lied to him that he was his son, but Minos soon got to know that was far from the truth. Instead of inheriting his feral eyes which were darker than the depths of the churning oceans, he had Daedalus's sparkling emeralds. He had a tall and lean figure unlike Minos's burly and bulky one. Icarus knew Naucrate had been punished by him brutally for lying to him, yet she chose to stay with him and put up with his barbarous ways. He could barely remember what was the tower like, it had become a long forgotten memory now. In lieu of the grand feasts Minos had not sealed the astronomy tower, which made it all the more convenient for Lakis and Icarus to go up there.

Icarus could feel himself gasping for the cool midnight air, in between rapid heaves as his legs sprinted him across the gold lined marble hallways, climbing up the twisting staircases of rose gold tinged marble. Lakis seemed to be untired and energetic as ever with his golden laughter and caustic divinity bubbling in his steel veins. They finally came to a halt once they reached the top of the tower. Icarus heaved heavily as he placed his palms on his knees. From the corner of his eye he saw Lakis giving him the brightest smile as his gaze turned upwards towards the stars and the moon. The view from the tower was magnificent and magnolious with majestic galaxies swirling in the ink blue sky as light spilled from the fluorescent stars. Slices of moonlight illuminated Lakis's endlessly beautiful face as his golden curls fluttered with the wind.

"Its beautiful, isn't it?" Lakis said as his finger pointed towards the multitudes of glittering stars.

Icarus nodded as his took in the beauty of the sky, his eyes widened with marvel while his neck remained upturned.

"The moon is especially beautiful today," Icarus said as he pointed towards the milky moon partially covered with thick white clouds that bled into the royal blue sky.

Lakis turned his face towards Icarus and watched as he gaped at the sky with wonder filled eyes. The moon illuminated half of his perfectly structured face, creating a soft glow while his emerald eyes sparkled like the countless stars that dotted the sky. His dark chestnut locks ruffled with the midnight wind, as moonlight danced on his creamy skin.

"The moon is beautiful," he replied while his gaze remained fixated on Icarus, taking in his ephemeral beauty—the carnations on his lips, the rippling powder blue veins of his neck, the slopes of his collarbone, the way his face was carved with utmost precision that could make any God envious of the beauty that he flowed in his rotting crimson blood.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───