My name is Icarus , son of Daedalus.
And what the common lore of my name fails to tell is I did not die when I hit the harsh waters of the sea. I swam.
I swam till my arms burned not only from scorch marks of the sun, but the paralyzing cold that nearly took me to my death.
Escaping that island was freedom and I overdosed. I flew too high craving the touch of the clouds, but just as the dewdrops hit my cheekbones I fell.
And I vowed never to fall again. Until now .
