Icarus and the Sun

I.

How could it be that I, the world's illuminator, could feel the darkest and loneliest inside? The sun isn't meant to feel gloomy, nor is she supposed to long for a life outside of her own purpose... Her life only had one, singular purpose. And though that purpose was to fulfill the lives of others, I don't feel satisfied with myself.

What the Gods don't seem to understand is how boring it gets up here, sitting and watching the clouds roll by as Wind pushes them onwards. All I do is wait for Moon to make an appearance, and by then I'm so exhausted from doing absolutely nothing that I just burn out... Until morning, when it's time for me to rise again and repeat the process over and over and over again.

It was late one afternoon, just as I was beginning to burn out, that I approached my father, Apollo, with questions I never dared to ask before. Tomorrow would be mark my eighteen millionth year, and it's about time I gain some control over my life. Right?

I fiddled with my thumbs as I neared him, looking downwards shyly in hopes that my innocence would be the backbone to my argument. I needed to experience something more than what I had been, and my father needed to understand that.

"Sun, why have you departed so early? The mortals will be confused on your setting tonight," said Apollo, his voice deep and authoritative like most fathers' voices. He was wise, my father; His long years spent watching over the Earth with his family taught him so much that I have yet to learn. But, how could I learn if I couldn't experience?

"Well, father," I began wearily, voice much softer in comparison to his. I needed to be braver, bolder, show that I'm mature enough to handle my own responsibilities. My golden eyes met his, and we both exchanged a smile. "Tomorrow marks my eighteen millionth year."

His expression was all knowing; Could he already see where I was going with this? Would he say no to my request? Gods, I shouldn't hesitate this much-- "I am aware, darling."

"I was wondering if, by any chance, I'd be able to go down to the land and... Feel what the mortals feel?" My fiddling thumbs didn't cease their action, though my expression shifted into one of sincere want.

"Why would you want to do that, Sun? You can see how the mortals live from up here... Pain, and so much suffering. It's not the life you want, or the life I intend to give you. Even just a taste of it will break your heart."

"But, father, how will I know that if I don't experience it for myself?" I responded immediately, the hesitation from my voice much smaller now than it had been. I could do this, I reminded myself. I could.

"You don't need to experience it for yourself; I've already done that for you," replied Apollo, this time more harshly than he had been. I simply nodded, letting my head hang low as I moped out of the room, to my bedroom where I could confide in... myself. All I really had was myself, anyway.

☼ ☼ ☼

It wasn't uncommon for insomnia to haunt me in the late hours of the night, forbidding me of the rest I so desperately crave. My thoughts at night were unstoppable, and although I tried numbing them with literature or music, it was to no avail. My fiery fingers would set the pages to flames, and once I had every lyric to the music memorised, my thoughts could just come in again. Sometimes I cursed myself for being made of a force as unforgiving as fire, but this trait was uncontrollable. I had to remind myself of that.

Countless hours later, I was drawn out of my mind by the sound of knocking on my door. It was only a warning; there was no need for me to call out because my father would walk in anyways holding a cake made of stars. I'd temporarily forgotten it was my birthday.

He began singing the same song mortals would to their children as he inched closer, holding the cake out to me. I couldn't help but smile and thank him for the gesture, though I was far from content. What was the point of another birthday if every day was the same? I was getting older, sure, but I was destined to live forever. The point, had there been one beforehand, was irrelevant. My life meant nothing more than to serve others, light up the world whether I wanted to or not. I felt gloomy.

I contemplated my self-worth on my eighteen-millionth year as I perched myself high beyond the clouds. No one could see the details hidden in my structure from up here; the way I hunch my shoulders, furrowed my brows in thought with a small frown displayed on my lips. All they could see from below was the bright Sun, doing her duties as per usual.