His hands were trembling. The cold air surrounded his body, sending shivers up his spine. He began to feel cold. Icy dread prickled his neck, warning him that danger was near. Something bad was about to happen.

Without any further thought, Icarus summoned up his courage, let out a small prayer to the gods and jumped. The rocks below him were getting closer. Too close. A desperate hope rushed through young Icarus’ body. Just when he was thinking of giving up his piercing cries, a gust of wind picked him up and sent him soaring in the heavenly air.

The golden, eagle wings unfurled creating a beautiful shadow on the calm sea below. Before long Icarus realised that his father was beside him also taking in the scenic landscape.

The clouds parted and the warm sun came out, shining in all its glory. Icarus couldn’t wait one more second. The warm rays of the sun tempted him in. He sped upwards. Further and further. He wouldn’t stop. He bathed in the warmth, ignoring his fathers shouts.  But then he realised what his father was shouting about. He felt a hot substance on his back. He sped down quickly and covered up his worrying face with a smug smile.

“Son, your wax will melt and you’ll go plummeting to your death!” shouted Daedalus.

“Father, father please! I am a skilled flyer! Just watch me!” exclaimed Icarus.

This time his need to impress his father got the better of him and he went soaring higher than the clouds. It was only a matter of seconds before he felt the wet substance slide down his back for the second time. The failing wax was melting fast.

He saw the sun above him float further and further away. Before he realised it was him who was doing the moving, it was to late. The tired, tattered wings streamed behind him, as he plunged into the crashing sea. The churning water dragged him down, the current pulling at his legs, the waves smashing on his head and slamming against his back. The murky depths covered his swollen body.

Forever lost.