Too close to the Sun

Just a Sun

"I'm Icarus," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

"I'm Heliē," she replied with a smile, taking his hand.

"Heliē, like the Sun?"

"Umm..." She realized she had let something slip. "Oh wait, that's Helios," he chuckled.

"No, it's not," she snapped. "How would you know? Are you from here?"

"Uhh, yeah. I mean, no... I'm not," she affirmed.

"Well... here, Helios is the god of the sun," he stated as they sat on the sand, admiring the waves.

"Oh... is that so?" She frowned. Heliē knew that to him, it was the truth. Long ago, Heliē had defied Zeus, threatening that if she wasn't allowed to leave, she would ensure he never saw the light of day again. They had a heated argument. Zeus turned the whole world against her, using his minions to spread malicious rumors so she would have nowhere to go. She was officially trapped. Before she could clear her name, her image was already tarnished. If she even thought of leaving, she'd be attacked by every human alive. Hades was very upset about this and was ready to fight Zeus, but doing so would have caused an all-out war. Lives would have been lost. She couldn't accept that, so she hid and changed her identity from Heliē to Helios, god of the sun, because in this land men were hardly attacked. Although this incident had taken place hundreds of years ago, those who knew her true identity were only those who lived on Mount Olympus and those who frequently attended Zeus' balls and galas.

"Helios brings dawn to the people. He has never disappointed us, not even once. In my opinion, he's the best out of any god out there."

"Even goddess Aphrodite?" she smiled.

"I don't really know, I haven't found love yet," he chuckled.

"And what about Athena?"

Icarus scoffed at the mere name. "Athena? No. Not after what she did to Astymedusa." He paused and lowered his head, his sadness evident. Heliē's brow furrowed. That was odd. Everyone loved Athena; people flooded her temples with gifts, but he said her name with hatred and discontent. The name he called seemed familiar. Suddenly, she remembered she had once heard the Medusa story from Hercules. She had tried getting her brothers to change Medusa back, but the only god who could do that was Zeus, and he'd never agree. She even tried talking sense into Athena, but it was of no use. Athena was so green with envy of that poor girl that she turned against the one person who worshipped her faithfully and gave her all to her.

She sighed and held his hand. "Were you close to her?..."

Icarus shuddered at her question. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but a problem shared is half solved," she stated.

"...I was close to her, very close. She was my childhood friend; we were practically related. She trusted Athena, served her wholeheartedly, only to be betrayed and turned into a beast at a time when she needed her most," he frowned, holding back tears. Heliē sensed his pain. Aphrodite almost had the same reaction too when she heard about it. There was nothing Heliē could say to ease the pain, so she just laid her head on his shoulder. She emitted a soft glow from the hand that held his, trying to take away the pain, but it was too strong. Memories of Medusa flashed through her head. Her smiles, her joy, the moments she would happily take offerings to Athena, the times she ran around the market with Christopher and Icarus chasing after her. And then... the night she came to Icarus crying with torn clothes and messy hair, the day Icarus attempted to kill the man who forced himself on her, the way she begged him to leave the man, saying that goddess Athena would avenge her. And the night she was turned into a beast, the way all faith and hope left her eyes, the way she screamed for Icarus to run away. He saw it all... and so did Heliē. She gasped silently as a tear rolled down her rosy cheek. Athena had ruined not just Medusa's life but Icarus' and every other person connected to her. 'What have you done, Athena?' she cried inwardly. Heliē and Icarus stared quietly at the waves for a while, burying their sorrows in the silence.