The sun began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky a gradient of blues, oranges, and purples. The water was nearly still, the faint ambiance of the tide coming in washing over Wren as the shallow tidepools filled. She paused, her bare feet digging into the warm, soft sand.
A yawn escaped the girl's mouth and the sun briefly blinked behind a cloud as if asking, why so tired, child? Wren sighed and passed a hand over her face. She hadn't slept the night before. Her father had passed away in a freak car accident a few months back, and when the nightmares got too strong the beach was the only thing that was able to calm Wren down enough to even consider going to sleep the next night. Staring out into the water, Wren tried to shake the negative thoughts away. There was no point in dwelling on things; the deed was done. Her father wasn't coming back.
Wren pulled her phone out of her back pocket and turned on the flashlight. When her emotions began to run haywire, so did her powers, so practicing something simple, like flickering a flashlight on and off, helped ground her regain control. She quickly got lost in her work, the flashlight mirroring the sun as it beamed.
The waves were thick and strong. They swirled around Icarus as he flickered in and out of consciousness, grabbing at the melted mass of metal, wax, feathers and the remnants of his dad's magic and tearing them apart as if they were made of papyrus. There was someone else in the water, too—someone who's magic was so warm and comforting that it kept lulling Icarus back to sleep. He caught glimpses of them as the waves pushed them through the ocean. Glimpses of brown and green. Eyes the color of the sea. Tanned skin and a familiar face.
But then he would lapse back into unconsciousness, mind too groggy to register who the person was.
The water started to grow calmer. The sun started to rise as they were pushed closer to the shore. When Icarus's head finally popped above the water again, whatever had kept him unconscious was losing its hold. He was finally aware of his surroundings. There was a girl nearby, holding a strange torch in her hand that looked like it could have belonged in his dad's workshop.
Icarus might have asked about that, but then he became aware of the unconscious man floating face down in the water next to him. His eyes widened. He had seen him in the workshop before; he had worked for the king for at least the past three years. And he was here—wherever here was—floating in the water next to Icarus when Icarus couldn't even remember seeing him in the sky. He was so confused and the melted wings on his back felt so heavy, but he had to get that man out of the water. He was sure of it.
"I-I need help!" he shouted, slipping his arms underneath the man's arms. His feet were finally touching the sand at the bottom of the ocean now; he was in a place where he didn't have to swim or float.
Wren continued to fiddle with her phone, the flash blinking across the sand. The harsh, white light illuminated the scene before her. The wind began was picking up, as were the waves. Wren stood, her phone all but forgotten, the flashlight still gleaming. Pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, she wandered closer to the shore. If she really listened, tuning out the waking gulls and crashing waves, she could almost make out the sound of a voice. Someone was in the water.
Wren couldn't make out what they were saying; their cries were muffled and hard to understand. They did, however, sound distressed. Whoever was caught up in the waves was in trouble, possibly drowning. A string of curses flew from Wren's mouth as she waded into the water. It was cold. A shiver ran its course through her body, but Wren persisted, determined to find whoever was stupid enough to be swimming so early in the morning.
"Hey!" She called out, cupping her hands like a magaphone. "Can you hear me?"
Wren didn't wait for a response. As soon as the water was deep enough, she fully submerged herself, straining her vision for a glimpse of the struggling swimmer.
For a moment, Icarus thought he could hear someone's voice. But the voice was quickly lost to the crashing of the waves, and no one appeared on the horizon when he scanned it for the person he could have sworn shouted.
He took a deep, unsteady breath and tried to get his footing on the sand. Waves kept threatening to knock him underwater, but he was determined to keep his head above it. He flipped the man over so he wasn't face-down in the freezing cold water. Had the water always been this-
The man groaned and shifted. His eyes were still closed and his breathing was still light; Icarus didn't think he was awake yet. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Wren forced her limbs to cut through the icy water. It wasn't too deep, but she recalled what her father had told her about drowning. Even a few inches could be enough to kill.
The girl broke to the surface, taking a large gasp of air into her lungs and scanning the surface of the waves. As she looked up, she caught a glimpse of a man - no, two men - not too far ahead of her. One was floating face-up in the water, the other holding him afloat.
"Hey!" She exclaimed, wading over to them. "Are you okay? Are either of you hurt?"
He had been right. There had been another person in the water, even though they only just now became visible again. She yelled something across the waves, but Icarus was startled to realize he didn't understood a single word of it. She was speaking a completely different language. He only knew one; there had never been a need to know more while growing up in his dad's workshop.
"I don't understand you!" he said as loudly as he could. The man in his arms groaned again. Maybe, if Icarus was lucky, she knew multiple languages?
Wren paused a few feet away from the men. She quickly realized that she had no idea what he was saying. He was speaking a different language, but she wasn't sure which one. The only other language she knew was the smallest bit of Italian she had learned in high school, but whatever he was speaking definitely wasn't so.
Wren pointed at his companion, who had begun to stir. She tried to exaggerate her expression in an attempt to show her concern. "Is he okay?" The girl asked uselessly, hoping her tone of voice was enough to get her message across.
Icarus still didn't understand what she was saying, but her tone and the pointing made it seem like she was asking about the unconscious man.
She seemed concerned about him. Icarus wasn't sure how to explain what was wrong with him; he still hadn't fully processed what had happened after he had gone plummeting to the sea.
He gave her a hopeless look. After a moment passed, he started trying to head to shore again. It was easier now that his feet were flat on the sand.
It wasn't long before the two of them had brought the unconscious man to shore. Icarus still didn't know who he was, but he had a feeling he was important. He wouldn't have been in the workshop if he wasn't.
Now that they were on shore instead of in the weightlessness of the water, the melted, broken mass on Icarus's back felt so heavy. Gently lowering the man down onto the sand, he started the difficult task of trying to remove what had once been beautiful, magical wings. Had the sea washed away their magic, too?
He dropped the wings down on the sand.
And then he plopped himself down, too, feeling tired and wet and all around confused.
Taking in a big, deep breath of air, he turned to the person who had been kind enough to help him.
"Thank you," he said, even though he knew she didn't understand him.
He was right; Wren definitely didn't understand him, but she smiled anyway, hoping it was an appropriate response. Once the unconscious man was lowered onto the soft sand and the other was settled next to him, she relaxed a little. The immediate danger of drowning was past them, which definitely made it a little easier to think through their strange circumstance.
Wren grabbed her previously forgotten phone, realizing the flashlight was still on. She switched it off and glanced at the screen. No messages, but that was nothing new.
She then settled next to the two men, crossing her legs in front of her. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?" She asked, mostly to herself.
Spoiler! :
edited: i used the wrong "to" ;-;
Last edited by atlast on Tue Jul 06, 2021 1:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
If Icarus had been able to understand her question, he would have agreed with her confusion.
Instead, he just turned back to the man who had helped him. Why hadn't he ever been lucky enough to overhear his name in the workshop? It would have made this whole situation seem far more tangible. He didn't even know why the man had been in the ocean with him in the first place. There was something about him that did seem like it belonged with the sea, but...
Icarus pushed the thought away.
He was so busy thinking that he didn't see the strange device the person who had helped them had pulled out. Icarus also didn't notice the previously unconscious man groggily open his eyes. The man, who apparently also hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, sat up right as Icarus leaned over him.
Their foreheads slammed together.
"Ow," Icarus said, hand shooting up to cover his forehead. "By Zeus, that hurt."
The man, unfazed by the accidental headbutting, stared at him. "Zeus didn't hurt you."
"What?" Icarus winced. He hoped that didn't leave a bruise. "He wouldn't have—he doesn't have anything to do with that kind of pain-"
The man turned to his other rescuer, wariness in his eyes. He looked over her clothes and the strange little device that she had in her hands. It looked like a tablet, but Icarus had never seen one that was so smooth or so small. It almost looked like it was covered in some kind of glass.
"What is that?" the man demanded, voice low and threatening.
"She can't understand us," Icarus said. He moved so he was closer to the other two on the beach. "I tried talking to her earlier. But she helped me get you out of the water, so I don't think she's planning on hurting you."
The man crossed his arms. "I didn't need help."
Now it was Icarus who did the staring.
Maybe he should have expected this sort of arrogance from someone who had to work with King Minos. Icarus felt a twinge of irritation. The least he could do was be grateful for the help, even though the man apparently hadn't needed in the first place. Which was stupid, seeing that he had been upside down in the water earlier.
At the very least, only Icarus could understand him.
Wren fiddled absently with her phone, staring out at the water. She had no idea what to do now that they were out of the water. She was soaked to the bone, the warmth from the rising sun slowly soaking into her skin.
She had begun to sink further into her thoughts, but her head snapped up when she realized the unconscious man was awake and talking to the other. Not only that, she was able to make out what they were saying.
Holy sh-
Wren jumped to her feet. "I can understand you," she announced, eyeing the pair. They had been talking about her. "What is this, some kind of joke?"
She pocketed her cellphone, gesturing emphatically with her hands. "I swear, if you're trying to get me into some sort of trouble or something, you're in for it."
Wren quickly tried to reevaluate the situation. She was with two strange men on the beach, one of which had a pair of wings made of what looked like melting wax and the other who had been unconscious until just moments ago. She and the previously winged man had dragged his companion out of the water, and they hadn't been able to understand each other. Now, they seemed to be speaking perfect English.
Surveying the area, Wren braced herself to run. She wasn't sure if the men were dangerous or were planning something sinister. Either way, she didn't want to risk getting hurt,
Taking a few steps back, Wren repeated herself, "What's going on?"
"Why can I understand you?" he said, voice high with shock and a little bit of worry. Her words were just barely registering, but he was focusing more on how he could suddenly understand someone he was sure spoke a different language. It had to be some kind of magic. But Icarus didn't know magic like that, and the unnamed man next to him hadn't ever uttered a spell.
"Because I'm a translator," the man said. He got to his feet.
Icarus glanced between the two others on the beach. "That's not how translating works."
The man gave him a borderline glare. "Pan said I was one."
"You know Pan!?" Icarus managed to get out. Maybe the gods did exist, after all. It would have certainly explained the minotaur. And seeing that he should have probably been dead by now, there had to be some kind of divine intervention going on.
...Unless he was dead and in Tartarus right now, being punished for stupidly trying to get closer to the sun.
The man ignored him. Icarus just kept sitting on the ground, trying to make something click. Nothing was. While Icarus had a minor crisis over what had brought him to this moment, the man turned to his other rescuer with an unfriendly look on his face.
"He fell," the man said. He pointed at Icarus. "I saved him."
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