The Fall of a Mortal

Icarus' Intelligence

"Coronis."-the deep voice called to one of the slaves working around the royal palace. The woman flinched and for a moment her hand clenched right over where the wound made by Artemis rested. She was saved by Apollo's love the first time she was dying, but she had once again repeated her mistakes, becoming a very sore wound in Apollo's heart. So she became one of the first people to be hit by his revenge.
She inhaled deeply and turned behind, facing the shadow, but never making eye contact with it.
The hate in those eyes made her life so much worse than it already was. Being unfaithful to someone so pure sure destroyed her soul, and she was left to tend to wounds that would never close again. The shadow paid no mind to the painful gasp that came out of the woman's mouth when his hand brought her head higher for her to make eye contact with him.
He paid no mind to the turmoil in her head and the war she had been fighting since the first moment she was punished. The eye contact heavily hurt him as well. He had loved her, and her unfaithfulness had certainly broken a part of his heart that would never be able to heal again.
-"Go take care of the mortal, he was heavily hurt from hitting the water from such a height."-his voice was ice cold, like the heavy wind during a storm in winter. Who would even believe that the chill, Light's God had been reduced to this emotionless, cold being, a literal shadow of his past?
The shadow let go of the woman's face in an instant and turned his back, leaving the room in fast steps.
He had left her behind many years ago, and yet, as soon as he saw her, he was reminded of what he had lost because of her. He inhaled deeply as he was right in front of a mirror. A passing glance at the mirror sent him in an absolute haywire.
His once bright face had reduced to a grayish-cold one. His once shiny blue eyes were reduced to dull gray ones. His skin once held proud light and a never-leaving tan from all the time he spent with Helios, was now reduced to pale, cold, and lifeless. Dark circles rounded his eyes, his cheekbones higher than he could remember. Colourless, lifeless curly hair was left untouched for a long time on top of his head.
A cold chuckle left his lips as he almost ran down the hallway to his room. As soon as he arrived at his room, his door was clicked shut, never to be opened again for a long time. His back against the shut door, he slipped softly until he was in a sitting position, tears falling down his eyes again and again. Even as he urged and begged them to stop. They continued flowing without a stop. His hands shaking and his head softly hitting the door behind him with a soft thud, Apollo took one deep breath after the other, trying so hard to calm himself down.
A long time had passed since he had started crying and still, nothing seemed to have changed. Maybe just the way his breath hitched way faster and the way his hands started shaking even at the thought that he had seen himself in the mirror. He looked so... broken.
-"So much for being a God."- he thought and laughed coldly through his tears. People always seem to forget that Gods like Apollo and Artemis that came from human mothers, still had their human parts inside of them. Still had blood and heart in between the golden ichor that surrounded their vessels. They still have human emotions and human pain, they were still humans after all.

Seeing as the entire ordeal wasn't changing a bit, Apollo tried his best to get up from the uncomfortable position and at least throw himself on the bed, fully clothed. He soon found himself unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. He stared in front of him without looking, and heard the commotion outside his door, without hearing. The God of Light was gone for several moments. And nobody ever knew about it.

In the other room, right across the hallway, Icarus woke up. Disoriented and in pain, the mortal man tried his best once again to get used to the environment around him.
A beautiful woman was right beside his bed, taking care of the wound on his head. Icarus found himself on his stomach, a thin but warm fabric thrown over him carelessly, a soft and gentle patting over the wound on the back of his head with celestial water.

For a moment, Icarus felt content. He felt almost like he was back home and his mom was taking care of a small wound he had done to himself while playing with his cousins. He smiled contently and tried to turn his head back and watch his mom once again.

Soft fingers stopped his movement and whispered:
"Don't move little mortal. It's alright. I know it hurts, but it's alright."- the woman's voice was so sweet and low and Icarus wanted so desperately to turn his head back and smile at this genre woman that just reminded him of his birth mother. But he decided to listen to the voice and stood still.

Coronis smiled softly at the young mortal. He certainly listened to her and for some reason, it reminded her so much of her own child. She caressed his brown curls and was tempted to kiss the wound in his head better. But she knew better than that. Her child was dead and she was forced over and over every single day of her life to suffer with such a deep loss. This mortal was not her child and she wasn't in the right mind to get close to such a young person, so early after her child's death.

Icarus was silently staring at her through the soft piece of napkin and the woman seemed to be used to this. She wasn't fazed at his blatant stare.

Finally, after a long time of contemplating within his mind, Icarus talked.
"You're not a mortal."

The woman's hands were stopped mid air as a shiver went down her back by the seriousness in his voice. Soon she collected herself and made eye contact with the naked boy.

"I'm not. Does this change anything to you?"

"What's your name?"- Icarus didn't even try to act like he was giving her words any attention. He was staring at her face all the time as if trying to find out who she was without her ever answering his question.

"Names are sacred things, little mortal. They aren't given as easily as you think."- the woman said in a soft voice, suddenly hit by the reality that this child was not her own. Her own one would have never talked so seriously to her.He would have never stood so far apart without even touching her. So she finished her job as soon as she could, pulled her hand away, and left, not looking behind for a single moment.

Icarus felt her warm presence leave and turned his head back as quickly as he could, to watch the face that held such a gentle voice. The movement hurt him so badly but he didn't let it stop him. He could only see the slave's attire on the older woman's body as she left rapidly the room dragging away with her the heavy chains she was punished with by the Mother.

The sweet smell of forest, fresh leaves, were left behind as the girl disappeared. Taking a deep breath from the freshness he felt in the air,something trickled down his back. He desperately wished he was wrong about his assumption. He looked around the room frantically as if looking for evidence that he was wrong. His face went completely white for a moment as he saw the floral design on the walls, all joining each other at the ceiling where something, kind of a painting showed two beings with bows and arrows on their hands. Icarus paled even further. It dawned on him pretty heavily.

"Holy Zeus, what am I doing in Apollo's castle?"-Icarus almost shouted out loud. Suddenly the nakedness felt too much, it was all too much, all too much, all too much.  His eyes were widened to the point of almost popping out and he looked around frantically, to find anything resembling any kind of clothes. The moment he threw the cover off himself, some kinda clothes fell off it. He facepalmed at his own panic and immediately got dressed. He pushed himself roughly to calm down. This was no time to be wasted. He had to get out.