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Vengeance of the Sun God, Part 2
*Part 1 can be found at http://mrsedenela.oucreate.com/indianepics/story-1/. *
Daedalus watched his son intently as they flew across the sparkling Aegean Sea toward freedom. The boy's eyes narrowed in concentration, his furrowed brow glistening with sweat. It was after several leagues of fixing his full attention on Icarus that Daedalus realized that he was not struggling as much as the boy. In fact, he was not struggling at all. It was as if the feathers retained their muscle memory of flying although they were no longer attached to the muscles that directed their flight. Daedalus tried to will the wings closer to Icarus so he could share his revelation: the wings knew how to fly on their own.
Before he could figure out how to communicate his plan to the wings strapped around his arms, Daedalus saw Icarus jerk his face toward the sky. A shock of fear spread across the boy's face. Daedelus glanced up at the sun to see what had frightened the boy but saw nothing other than the glaring sun. As he looked back toward his son, a surge of fear gripped his own gut. The air swam around Icarus, turning the boy's form into a mirage. Icarus had hit a pocket of condensation, assumed Daedalus. Horror thrilled through his body as he waited for the coming downdraft to force Icarus towards the sea. Daedalus opened his mouth to shout out a warning, but a foreign voice broke through his lips.
"Sampati! No!" As if responding to the strange voice, the wings carrying Icarus angled expertly, causing the boy to bank left. As a thermal caught him, the wings snapped wide and the condensation around Icarus cleared. As the image sharpened, Daedalus saw the form of a great eagle instead of his son. The eagle arced sharply upward and blocked the sight of the sun from Daedalus. Suddenly, the wings collapsed around Icarus, the image of the great eagle gone as Icarus plunged head-first into the waves of the Aegean.
***
The shock of the events that passed before Daedalus paralyzed him. The wings continued to maneuver on their own, preventing Daedalus from following his son head-first into the sea below. Daedalus's mind was back in the prison tower.
Late at night: Daedalus bent over the apparatus. Icarus, who was in charge of stirring the beeswax used to affix the feathers to the scaffolding, would occasionally stay his father's hand and pass the paddle's handle over to Daedalus to take over the constant motion over the low fire. Icarus would pick through the feathers and, using an artist's eye, sort the feathers into two piles. Daedalus assumed that Icarus had studied the plumage of the giant eagles as he plucked the feathers from their corpses, but the feathers had whispered to the boy's subconscious directing his efforts to ensure that each wing was replicated exactly.
Daedelus fretted over his choice of using the beeswax as the two worked. He wished he could have obtained more than the minuscule sampling of pine pitch from the Cretian engineers. The sturdy tar would hold better than the beeswax, but King Minos was afraid that Daedalus would use the pitch as a weapon against the guards. Which he would have. Daedalus was only allowed enough to perform experiments in order to discover new ways to refine the tar for new uses in the kingdom.
"Not too high, the sun may melt the wax," Daedalus was positive he warned Icarus each time they made design adjustments to the wings. "Not too high, the sun may melt the wax," Daedelus replayed in his mind, over and over, each instance he gave his son this critical advice as he sailed along. The paralysis that gripped Daedalus saved his life. If he had been able to move, he would have driven himself into the sea. The wings continued their journey, flying on a crosswind that caught the magnificent feathers and angled them west.
***
Land finally came into view. The wings folded into an elegant dive, snapping open again when the water met the shore and setting Daedalus gently on the sandy beach. Daedalus's legs crumpled under him when the wings no longer supported his weight. Blinding rage overtook him. A howl of anguish burst from his lips as he clawed at the bindings that held his arms to the apparatus. It was more an act of mutilation than of emancipation. His fingernails carved deep red welts into his skin, at places breaking through and drawing blood. The blood loosed the bindings of the apparatus and Daedalus ripped the wings from his back.
Once freed from the weight of the wings, Daedalus began to mourn his son. Hot tears mixed with sticky blood, sand, and sea salt and seemed to call an invocation to the heavens. A gentle hand rested upon his shoulder. Blinking away the stinging mist from his eyes, Daedalus half-turned and looked up. A familiar face smiled with sympathy. She held two spools of silk twine, one in each hand. Daedalus glanced at his shoulder, looking for the hand that continued to provide its calming pressure. Nothing was there. Fearing he was beginning to lose his mind, he looked up imploringly into the face of the woman beside him.
"Athena," he stated simply.
"Hello, Grandson," she replied warmly. "You must get up. We have much work to do."
***
Sweaty and exhausted, Daedalus looked up from the altar he constructed from rocks collected from along the waterfront. Dried driftwood had been placed in the center. The work had cleared his head and he finally focused on the scenery beyond the beach.
"This isn't Greece," he observed. "Where are we? Why did the wings bring me here?"
"This is the shore of Sicily. Our essence would be too strong among our own followers to perform a proper Convergence. Surya and Aruna's combined rage allowed them to Converge for a short time, but they would not be able to hold form long enough for a conversation." Athena smiled at the look of confusion of Daedalus's face. "Place the wings on the altar, Grandson. Strike the fire and call for my brother, Apollo."
Daedalus knelt next to the altar and removed his fire kit from the pouch tied at his waist. He made a nest of tinder on the edge of the altar and placed his hands just above. Poised to strike the first ember, he closed his eyes. He could not find the proper words to pray to Apollo. He packed all of his grief and pain into a single word and whispered, "Apollo." As he brought the sharp stone to strike against unyielding metal, a brilliant light flashed as scorching heat blew Daedalus onto his back.
***
*Author's Note:
The story of Jatayu and Sampati, Sons of Aruna: The two young vultures enjoyed racing each other each day. One day as they were racing, they annoyed their father Aruna, the charioteer of Surya the Sun God. Aruna sent a scorching ray to punish his sons. Sampati raced above Jatayu and shielded him from the blast. Sampati fell to the earth. Unable to fly because he was severely disfigured, Sampati lived in a cave by the shore on the southern tip of India.
I didn't understand why Aruna would scorch his sons just for being annoying. I mean, I'm a human and I manage to not maim my children when they annoy me. I decided to blend this story with the story of Daedalus and Icarus. I'm still doing research to figure out how to bring Jatayu and Sampati back to life. I have ideas, I'm just trying to decide if Surya or Indra would be the right god for the job. Maybe a combined effort?
I chose the references below because they explain the parts of the myths that I drew from in a better way than Wikipedia or Britannica did and some of them have really cool pictures. Bibliography
"Angel Wing Clipart Png #1699972." Clipart Email. Clipart Email, 2020.
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Showing posts with label Apollo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apollo. Show all posts
Friday, February 28, 2020
Week 7 Vengeance of the Sun God, Part 2
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