Damianos. The mere sound of it was imbued with power.
Mastery. “To subdue.”
The bestowment of such a title was a blessing of the Fates; in the strokes of each letter, a glimpse of divine purpose clung. It was a mantle he wore with pride, polished until it glittered.
Born the sole heir of a family of aristocrats, the palm of privilege and opulence had curled around him and kept him in its grasp since birth.
Damianos. The name echoed in his mind, thrumming like a divine call.
In the confines of his chambers, Damianos was seated on the floor, silk robes curling around him. The sunlight cast shadows across the room, illuminating the tools around him. Discarded feathers and wax lay at his sides, but his eyes fell upon the creation before him. His fingers traced along sinuous curves, waxen feathers trembling beneath his touch.
Wings, enormously broad and illuminated in sunlight, lay before him. As if they’d been ripped from the back of a celestial being, torn from the heights of Olympus and splayed at his feet.
They were his creation, testament to his brilliance. Proof that he could tame the forces of creation.
He would show the Gods his greatness.
Damianos stood. He could hear the Fates calling him with their siren song, beckoning him with a hand cradled at his jaw and fingers wrapped tightly around his throat.
The highest point of his family’s manor was the spired tower that clung to the side of the building, closest to the ocean. The manor sat atop an ocean-side cliff, and the drop was abrupt; it would be a long fall to rocks and crashing waves below.
Though, Damianos had no intention of
falling.Wind whipped around him, tousling his hair and rustling the feathers clinging to his waxen creation.
He paid the wind no heed, for he could see the towering peak of Mount Olympus, ascending far into the clouds like it was piercing the heavens.
The wings spread behind him. Standing here, overlooking the sea, he felt free.
Soon, he would be among the ranks of Olympus, revered as a
God. He stepped off the edge.
Weightlessness enveloped him, as air gusted beneath his wings and tossed him high into the air.
“By the
Gods,” came the breathless gasp from his lips, but his slack jaw quickly shut, a grin widening on his face.
Wind whipped through his hair, curling around his wings.
The sun’s warmth was a heavy presence on his back, but he kept his gaze fixed forward; Mount Olympus’s unfathomable peak
beckoned him— he was happy to oblige.
With each beat of his wings, Damianos went further,
higher, form silhouetted against the glow of the sun.
He could
almost see Mount Olympus’s summit.
The sun beat down on his back, and the sea below toiled and churned.
Olympus was within his reach, now.
The warmth at his back grew to a blistering heat, but what did it matter?
As he neared the realm of the Gods, though— a cry left his lips.
Wax, boiling-hot, slipped down his neck. The wings were
melting.Time seemed to slow. Damianos felt himself slipping, wax burning his skin.
The sense of weightlessness from flight ended, abruptly, as he fell. The world around him dissolved into a blur.
His neck craned upwards, hand reaching for the disappearing heights of Olympus’s peak with a shout.
The weight of his hubris pressed down upon him like a
shroud, and his cries were swallowed by the cold, unforgiving ocean as he plunged into its depths.
As the world slipped into darkness, there was a tug at his consciousness, as though he was being pulled into a dream.
He opened his eyes to a soft, ethereal light, and he blinked in confusion.
What..?Before him, looking down at him with a smile that radiated warmth, was a figure unlike any he’d seen.
Tall, regal,
godly. A golden wine chalice held loosely in his hand.
Dionysus.Dionysus spoke, voice ringing with divinity, and Damianos’s ears
rang."It is not often that I encounter a mortal with such determination." "I seek only to ascend to the heavens, to claim my
rightful place among the gods,” Damianos said, eyes
wild. “Help me. I shall make it worth your while. I have riches and power beyond compare.”
Dionysus's smile
widened.“Why, of course.” A pause, and a tilt of his head.
“There will be a cost, however.”“Anything,” Damianos replied.
“Anything!”Dionysus's smile turned suddenly wide, and Damianos flinched.
"Then, your sacrifice is your freedom.”With a flick of his wrist, golden shackles appeared.
Shock filled Damianos's eyes as the cuffs clicked shut; however, when his mouth opened to speak, he was unable to make a sound.
Dionysus sneered, his benevolent façade shattered.
"Olympus welcomes you." 
☀︎
