Icarus Poem Novels & Stories

"Have any of you tried to kill each other before?" Eros nodded almost immediately. "Countless times. But something or perhaps someone always walked in on us. There was a time, Athena poisoned Icarus. Ajax drank the poison instead. He survived because his immune system was better than Icarus. And many more incidents." Eros shrugged like he didn't just say that! If i thought my family got a screw lost, his family are psycho parts!

Then he suddenly dropped his weapon, trembling as he bowed down to the ground, and the others followed. “Our goddess, please forgive our rudeness. We were fools; we couldn't recognize you. My name is Icarus, the Alpha of the Winged Horse Tribe,” he pleaded. “Recognize my foot! You just called me an 'ill-fated goddess',” I mumbled. Macan laughed hysterically while the others looked confused at my remark. “Please forgive me, my dear goddess. I was a fool,” he shouted as he kowtowed on the ground a few times.

Beauty does not equate to goodness. ‘That’s the most important question of them all.’ I chuckled dryly, my eyes darting from bull to bull. ‘And of course, it wouldn’t be Iridian if there weren’t a cost.’ ‘This cost sounds kind of dangerous. I mean, more so than the others.’ Rayna frowned, ‘I have a feeling the poem isn’t talking about a simple personality trait. I think it’s talking about Good and Evil, as in capital ‘G’ and ‘E’.’

I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, as if my skin wasn’t still burning where Icarus touched me. “And it wasn’t a good visit,” he replied, finally tearing his gaze from Icarus and landing it on me. “He writes as if he was forced to be there. As if that place held something… dark. Something that shook him.” Icarus opened the book, flipping quickly until he found the page marked with a precise fold. His eyes scanned the lines in silence. “The Severed Stag,” I translated in a low voice, a shiver running down my spine. “Comforting name.”

He was telling it to Nisim, when he was a tenth grader. “Now that Icarus is out of the dungeons of Crete, has got wings, and as being a winged human is a rarity, he wants to soak in as much of life as he can offer. And so what does he do? He flaps his wings with all his might and soars high up in the air. Up, up, up he goes, while his father, poor Daedalus keeps cautioning him to fly neither too near the sun nor too close to the waves of the sea. But does Icarus listen? No, he doesn’t. High up in the free and open skies, there he is, now floating like an eagle, his wings outstretched, his face bathing in the morning sun. Being a winged human is indeed a rarity, isn’t it?”

She began programming the second iteration of Icarus something she called [Nemesis Protocol]. If Icarus was the wings to fly, then Nemesis was the sword to strike. The real war had only just begun. END OF CHAPTER 25..

He stopped scrolling and read the full poem, his skin growing cold with gooseflesh as he did so. Along the shore the cloud waves break, The twin suns sink behind the lake, The shadows lengthen In Carcosa. Strange is the night where black stars rise, And strange moons circle through the skies, But stranger still is Lost Carcosa. Songs that the Hyades shall sing, Where flap the tatters of the King, Must die unheard in Dim Carcosa. Song of my soul, my voice is dead, Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed Shall dry and die in

There is a poem scratched onto the walls of my throat, no one has heard it, but it is here. - Kai Cheng Thom. |I R I S| We are driving back to his mansion. But the words- threatening words- by his brother, Nicolas, are still ringing loud and clear in my head.