With a deep breath, Daedalus donned his own wings, and together, they took to the skies. Icarus nodded, his young face set in a determined expression. And do not fly too high, for the sun’s heat will melt the wax that holds them together. Do not fly too low, for the dampness of the sea will weigh down your wings. “These wings will carry you across the sky, but you must heed my warning. “Listen carefully, my son,” he said, his voice tinged with a seriousness that made Icarus straighten his back. Daedalus fitted the smaller pair onto Icarus, his hands gentle but firm. Daedalus worked with the precision and care that had made him famous, his hands moving in a dance of creation.įinally, the wings were complete. Icarus watched, wide-eyed and eager, as his father set to work, gathering feathers of all sizes, binding them together with twine, and shaping two pairs of wings. That is where we shall find our freedom.” Minos controls the land and the sea, but he does not command the skies. “My son,” he began, his voice steady and sure, “the time has come for us to leave this island. One day, in their sun-drenched workshop, Daedalus turned to Icarus, his eyes alight with a plan of escape. It was here, in a labyrinth of his own design, meant to imprison the monstrous Minotaur, that Daedalus’ story intertwines with that of his son, Icarus. Renowned throughout the lands for his skill, Daedalus found himself in Crete, serving King Minos. In the ancient world, where gods mingled with mortals and heroes rose from the simplest of beginnings, there lived a master craftsman named Daedalus.
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