#pterippus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satbiym · 6 years ago

Photo

Chapter 6 has been Updated! We’re one chapter away from the end!

The Lament for Icarus by satbiym

Chapter 6

“Oh, god.” Yuuri moaned, face in his hands, “I cannot believe I just did that!”

“Which part,” Phichit asked, an odd tone in his voice, “The part where you had to dance again, or the fact that the second dance was naked, or the moment where everyone realized they could never get on your level, or the realization that your naked body was broadcasted all over the world?”

Yuuri, who had till that very moment not remembered the last fact tried to reason if using his wings to fly away from this very conversation was an option.

Phichit, on seeing a red-faced Yuuri roll around in renewed embarrassment, rolled his eyes and dryly said, “Please, give me a break. Your bare skin carried more dignity than the finest robes in all the lands and the moment you stepped out, all who saw you were either intimidated by you or wanted you. I assure you, that broadcast is going to be a classic, and it’s not just because of your prowess with a sword.”

In response, Yuuri just screeched louder.

So Anactoria, although you

being far away forget us,

the dear sound of your footstep

and light glancing in your eyes

would move me more than glitter

of Lydian horse or armored

tread of mainland infantry

- Sappho

Once Yuuri had compartmentalized his embarrassment into a box that he would never open, he got up and surveyed his empty room, Phichit having left to check on the wings.

Shaking his head, Yuuri realized he had been long remiss in his most sacred responsibilities. Suddenly filled with an inexplicable urge to fix this slight immediately, he went to the open-roofed house next to his own.

The being in the house looked up when he entered, and on the resulting explicit excitement, Yuuri smiled, “Hey, boy. Long time no see.”

The pterippus neighed back, wings flapping, sending wafts of cool air towards Yuuri’s way and rustling his hair, a far sight away from the tiny runt Yuuri had picked up when he was younger.

Pterippus or winged horses were rare and prized, but a pterippus couldn’t be owned or broken or subdued, they were beings of the sky and answered to no one they didn’t choose. Yuuri had found this pterippus who had been abandoned by his mother on the eve of Yuuri’s tenth birthday, possibly because of his tiny and frail body. But despite being hungry and alone, the sky horse’s spirit hadn’t dulled, and upon hearing Yuuri approaching him had started flapping his wings, possibly to make himself seem bigger or even to fly away.

But maybe it had been the hunger, his age or Yuuri’s luck, but the being stayed grounded, cautious and ready to fight although Yuuri could see that he was frightened from the erratic panic in his eyes.

Upon noticing that, Yuuri had stopped walking, a few feet away from the sky horse. The winged being, barely taller than Yuuri himself, hadn’t stopped flapping his wings.

So, Yuuri, with the foolhardiness of a child, did what he could to aid the horse in his attempts to look fierce. He had plopped down on the sand and continued to look at the winged horse steadily, silent and calm.

The winged horse had looked down at Yuuri and slowed the force with which they were beating their wings.

Yuuri had smiled and softly said, “I don’t know if you can understand me, but don’t feel sad. I know what it’s like to be abandoned, you know. My father left us when I was but a babe. But it was alright, see? Because my mother was still there, and so was Minako and the rest of Hasetsu. So what if my father left? It doesn’t mean I don’t have a family. I know you don’t have one right now, but you can join mine if you like. With us, you will never go hungry or be scared or be alone because family takes care of each other.”

The wings had stopped beating.

The memory of meeting his first friend calmed Yuuri better than any compartmentalizing could have.

The sky horse - now much bigger and not as hungry or frightened - stepped forward to nuzzle Yuuri’s face with his own and made a questioning sound, beating his wings a bit more softly.

Yuuri smiled and laying a hand on the horse’s face, said, “Not this time, boy, I’m afraid this is a flight I am going to have to manage myself. The mobility and speed of having my own wings will be what turn the tides in my favor, and… I need a big spectacle, one that will lure people to Hasetsu. A spectacle even the Immortals cannot tear their eyes away from.”

The winged horse huffed, nudging the ground with his hooves, as if offended. Yuuri laughed and fondly said, hugging his dear friend tighter, “No, my love, you are the best air-support anyone can have. I just have to do this... for my family.”

The sky horse threw his head back, his locks flying around him, and nudged Yuuri closer, as if frantically trying to tell Yuuri something. But time was running out and Yuuri had to go.

With some effort, Yuuri broke his embrace and upon hearing protesting sounds from his friend, looked back and smiled, “I’ll be back! And I’ll bring some apples. Wish me luck, old friend. I’ll see you soon.”

With that promise hanging in the air, Yuuri left to go towards the tournament arena.

Description? Sweetly tearful, talks forever, swift, irreverent,

Slyly laughing, wings on his back, and carries a quiver

His last name? I don’t know, for his father and mother

Whoever they are, in earth or heaven, won’t admit it.

Everyone hates him, you see. Take care, take care,

Or even now he’ll be weaving new snares for your heart.

- Meleager

Hiroko caught him before he could enter the tournament tent.

“Yuuri.” She said.

Yuuri turned back and saw the way her hands were trembling and eyes were glazed. Yuuri strode towards her and took her in his arms.

Hiroko clutched his robes tightly and said, voice shaking, “I tried my best to never rob you of your ambition. I tried not to let my failures and burdens dampen your light, but I am afraid I have not been able to- after your father…”

Yuuri stifled. His mother never spoke about his father. His father was a spectre who had always hung around his mother, a ghost he hadn’t been able to dispel no matter how hard he had tried.

“I am afraid that because of my failings, I am going to lose you again, Yuuri. This time forever.” Hiroko said, voice steady, despite her tears.

Yuuri tightened his grip on her and said, voice hoarse, “Ma, you never- you were the best- I… I am sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed, Ma. I am sorry-”

Hiroko pulled away abruptly and threw her hand up to cover Yuuri’s mouth and said fiercely, “Never. Never apologize for what you want, Yuuri. Never apologize. It makes you, you. Your ambition, your temerity, your heart is why I am so proud to call you my son, it’s why I understand that even though it means I might lose you to it, I must never impede your drive, for without it you are already lost.”

Yuuri watched as his mother, his strength and heart, let him go one more time.

Yuuri blinked away his tears, not willing to let his last memory of his mother before his flight be blurry, and promised, “I will be back. Ma, I will be back.”

Hiroko smiled, nodded, and waved him towards his silver skies.

Some say a cavalry corps,

some infantry, some, again,

will maintain that the swift oars

of our fleet are the finest

sight on dark earth; but I say

that whatever one loves, is.

- Sappho

“What took you so long?” Phichit hissed, only to stop when he saw Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri didn’t know what it was that he could see but Phichit grinned, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, pulled Yuuri to their corner.

“Okay. So, you realize the public, when they see this broadcast, is going to throw a fit, right?” Phichit said, good mood renewed for whatever reason.

Yuuri groaned, he had been trying not to think about that very fact.

Phichit made a clucking sound with his mouth and chided, “Hey, no, none of that. Where was that hunk from that night asking me to make him wings of his own to fly?”

Yuuri shook his head and said weakly, “He’s too busy trying not to throw up.”

Phichit, shaking a finger at him said, “Don’t sass your father!”

Yuuri looked back at him and said dryly, “You’re not my father”

Phichit continued, as if not hearing him, “My son who I’ve raised with my own two hands!”

Yuuri sighed and despite himself smiled, amused, “We’re not having this conversation again.”

Phichit looked back, eyes soft, “There you go. You’re smiling again.”

“What?” Yuuri said, confused.

“It’s good to be a Hero, Yuuri. But your laurels aren’t what makes us want to follow you to the ends of the earth, it’s your heart. You don’t have to be someone you’re not. Just… be yourself.” Phichit said lightly, hands moving over the wings, not looking at Yuuri.

“Phi.” Yuuri said, unsure how to continue.

Phichit, still looking away and working, continued, “We need you here, you understand? So, come back, you hear? Otherwise I’ll bring you back to life if I have to knock on Hades’s door myself.”

The tent opened and the other participants lumbered in. Phichit turned back and after giving Yuuri one last smile, walked away.

Yuuri didn’t know for how long he stood rooted to that very spot, and it was only when the tournament organizer’s voice filled the air that he remembered his more pressing duty.

“Okay, participants. Line up here as I tell you the rules of this tournament.”

Yuuri walked over to where the rest were lined up, only to do a double-take as he met a familiar set of green eyes and blonde hair.

That’s the kid who’d threatened him!

“What.” The kid rumbled when he noticed Yuuri’s stare. Why was this kid so angry? Yuuri wondered, baffled.

Shaking his head, Yuuri said nothing and lined up beside him.

The organizer surveyed them, ten in total, and grunted, as if unimpressed.

“So. Here are the rules. You will have to, aided with the power of flight, gather the egg of a creature from the jaws of death itself, and you have to do this within the span of ten minutes. If anyone wants to pull out of the tournament, this is your chance.” He said staidly.

“What is the creature?” A Hero asked as others around Yuuri began to murmur.

The organizer snorted and said, “Young lady, a true Hero doesn’t need to ask that question.”

Yuuri felt a spike of irritation at his dismissal of the - in his opinion, apropos - question, and opened his mouth-

With a toss of her long mane and a belligerent laugh, the Hero said with a confident mein, “Maybe that’s why most so-called “true” Heroes die. Lack of information and foolishness disguised as bravery isn’t being a Hero. Why, a hero shouldn’t be someone who is willing to rush in uninformed and clueless, risking the lives of their comrades. A true Hero is someone who despite knowing who is on the other end of the fight, decides to fight anyway.”

Yuuri bit back a grin, this Hero didn’t need his or, really, anyone’s help.

The organizer reared up, affronted and haughtily said, “And just who might you be to lecture me about heroes, girl?”

The Hero just smiled and said, measured voice filling the room faster than even the loudest of shouts, “The name’s Atalanta, don’t worry too much about forgetting it, it’ll be written in the stars soon enough.”

The organizer’s face reddened with apoplectic rage, and he opened his mouth, but before he could say a single word another spoke.

“Enough.”

Yuuri turned to see that the blonde beside him had been the one to speak, his green eyes looking at them derisively, and he continued, voice surly but full of an expectation of being followed, “I grow weary of this pointless chatter. Old Man, tell us who we’re stealing an egg from and cut your pointless theatrics, if I had wanted to go to watch a badly written play, I would have gone to the local theatre instead of wasting my time here. Now...”

The air around them swirled with power as the blonde’s green eyes almost glowed with his distaste and he spoke, each syllable accentuated and vibrating with the force of his command, “Speak.”

The organizer, seemingly cowed, continued weakly “The creature whose egg you’ll be taking is a Cetus.”

The other heroes broke out in whispers and even Yuuri, fresh from the trials of the Labours, was shocked.

A Cetus? The monster that Perseus saved Andromeda from? But that would mean that the competition would take place…

“You will all fly over the ocean and be ranked on rhythm, suppleness, contact, impulsion, straightness and collection. In the event of a tie, the time required to get the egg will be the tiebreaker. That is,” The organizer continued, ignoring the whispers, gaining in confidence and cruel amusement, “if even one of you manages to get the egg considering that you will all be facing the same Cetus who will become more and more bloodthirsty as each participant attempts to steal her egg. So, when I say this is your last chance to be assured of your continued existence, I mean it. So, I ask now for the last time... would anyone like to back out?”

Yuuri’s heart thudded in his ears as silence fell upon them, but no one moved.

At that, the organizer curled his lip and said, almost savoring his next words, “May the gods light your way home.”

“Who’re the competitors?”

“Oh! It’s a mixed bag this time, we have everyone who is anyone all the way to random nobodies you’ve never heard of. There’s even a girl, if you can believe it!”

“A girl?! What in the- but anyway, my question is - is it true? Is he also participating?”

“Who?”

“Did the fall from your horse damage your memory?! Who else could I be talking about?! He’s the one we’re all here for anyway. So, did you see him yet?! Will he be flying today?”

“I will never understand why my beloved wife is so interested in the exploits of another man. Am I not man enough for you?! What do you all see in him anyway?”

“It’s not like that! You know that! It’s just… we all saw him grow up, you know. When he was on his Hero’s Journey, I watched him on our Scrying Screens. I watched him grow into the Hero he is today, not only surviving but thriving despite everything and everyone - Immortal or mortal - who stood in his way. It’s just...”

“Enough. My heart cannot bear this talk any longer. To answer your question - yes. He will be flying today.”

“Oh- Oh! When?!”

“Ha, that’s the tragedy, isn’t it… They drew lots and he got the worst one.”

“How so?”

“He’ll be the last one to fly against the Cetus, after everyone else has had their turn antagonizing her. Let us just hope the gods are feeling merciful today and your hero thrives yet again.”

“The people are cheering,” Phichit said excitedly, as he bounced on his feet, “Hear that Yuuri? I can hear your name and we haven’t even started yet!”

Yuuri shook his head at his fanciful best-friend, chanting his name, indeed, what an absurd thought. Like anyone other than his family even knew about him, let alone enough to publicly scream his name.

“You.” A voice gritted out from behind him.

Yuuri turned to see the same blonde hero from earlier who had been glaring at him.

The blonde was - characteristically - glaring, as he continued, teeth sharp and bright, “I am going to win and by such a large margin that there will be no point in you even flying today. Heed my words.”

Yuuri could hear Phichit draw up in outrage but before Phichit could say anything, Yuuri smiled and inclined his head respectfully to the hero.

“I would be insulted if you didn’t plan on that, Hero. But while I respect your goal, I would be remiss if I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure your intentioned plans remain just so. I hope you do do everything in your power to win, but rest assured, I will be doing the same.”

The blonde’s eyes widened for a moment before the glare was back, stronger and more complicated than from before, “My name is Yuri. Remember it well.”

And then without another word, the blonde - Yuri - turned, movement made all the more dramatic because of his wide sleeves and billowing cape, and swept away with all the majesty of a gust of wind in the night sky.

Yuuri turned to Phichit who looked about ready to burst, but before he could talk, the sound of a horn pierced the air.

Yuuri took in a deep breath, steadying himself.

The tournament had begun.

Didn’t I tell you, oh soul, “Look out, you’ll be caught,

You silly thing, if you flutter so near her net?”

Didn’t I warn you?

- Meleager

One by one, the competitors went, their sky horses by their sides.

The first hero, a strapping brown-haired lad who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, tried and failed to even lure the Cetus out. He flew around on his sky horse, throwing fire into the ocean to no avail.

He did this until his time ran out.

This continued for the next three heroes, who all seemed unable to even being the Cetus out of the ocean. The crowd grew restless. This wasn’t the entertainment they’d been promised.

Then, it was Atalanta’s turn. She grinned, not an ounce of uncertainty seemingly weighing her down, she clearly didn’t think the failure of her predecessors was going to affect her chances. She sat atop her flying steed, hair wild in the evening wind turning her into a sight to behold.

A hush fell upon the crowd, something was going to happen, everyone could feel it in the air.

Atalanta, hundreds of feet in the air with only a sky horse for assistance, easily recognizable for her billowing wild hair, with nary a visible stumble, confidently stood on top of her flying horse.

Yuuri gasped, a thrill shooting through him at the sight. She was-

Arms raised straight above her head like she was about to dive into the ocean - but surely not, for at this height she would -

Atalanta jumped, lithe body slicing through the air like an arrow, arms outstretched and hurtling straight towards the incoming ocean.

“No!” Yuuri shouted, standing up, she was going to-

He lunged forward, only...

Yuuri watched as the Cetus, who almost seemed to dwarf the ocean itself, rose out of the ocean, and opened its long, cavernous muzzle as Atalanta dropped towards it.

But as her body reached close to the lunging mouth, Atalanta whistled, shrill and clear, piercing through the gasps of the crowd, and all watched as the Hero they had all already written off as dead, was swept away from the open jaws of the Cetus by her flying horse.

The Cetus bellowed, angry at the taunt and Atalanta, safe on her sky horse, smiled and urged her horse forward. The Cetus’s long, serpentine body and horned muzzle seemed to overshadow the sun itself, her mass was significant enough to dispel enough water to reveal a nest with eggs, hidden near the surface of the water.

The crowd was still, right before they broke out in cheers and screams of Atalanta’s name.

Yuuri, who could still hear his heart in his ears, ruefully shook his head, no one was going to forget that name any time soon, that was for sure. Written in the stars, indeed.

But the fight was far from over.

Atalanta, nimble and slight, made quick work of the Cetus, distracting her enough with her feinting to steal an egg within the imposed time limit.

Yuuri stared at Atalanta, hair alight with the evening sun and fist raised in the air in victory.

That made one.

The judges seemed to agree, awarding her with the full sixty points for her performance.

The crowd, revitalized after Atalanta’s victory, cheered on the next competitor, but none of the three, despite their attempts to recreate Atalanta’s technique were able to do so.

Yuuri breathed a little easier, although Atalanta had managed to capture the egg, she had done so in the nick of time. So there was still hope for him to pull out ahead, all he had to do was be quicker while getting the required points.

But, again that depended on how the next competitor did. Yuuri leaned forward, this would inform him of his ultimate strategy.

The eighth competitor stalked off of the field, frustrated as the ninth competitor walked in and took his position atop a nearby cliff.

The crowd quietened, wasn’t the competitor a little young? They whispered amongst themselves, surely he isn’t going to compete with the older, more established Heroes?

Yuuri tightened his fist, because there was only one person left to go, aside from him, and if the way he had cracked with ominous energy just a scant hours ago had been any indication, he was no one to be underestimated.

Yuri walked out, head held high and shoulders loose and proud.

He also seemed to be alone.

Not a moment after the timer began, Yuri took off running towards the edge of the cliff, barefooted, a tiny speck in the looming landscape.

The whispers strengthened in fervor and content.

Where was his sky horse?

Surely he knew the rules of the game?

He had to be aided by flight!

“Maybe he couldn’t afford a steed? But… if he goes straight into the water from that height, he is all but dead, if not by the water then by the Cetus lurking within.” Phichit wondered, next to Yuuri. But Yuuri only had eyes for the figure running towards the ocean. Something wasn’t right.

Yuuri watched as the ocean grew stormier, each wave of the tide coming in faster and more ferocious than the one before it, until it seemed like all the water in the ocean was going to move into the land.

Yuuri watched as a wall of water, a size he had never seen before, crashed into the land, spraying them all with flecks of salty water.

Yuuri watched as the tide swept back, only to reveal the Cetus it had carried and left behind on the land.

Yuuri watched as Yuri, without hesitation, leapt off of the edge of the cliff and began to fall.

Yuuri watched as a silver chariot drawn by two snow-white sky horses, caught the falling Hero, who without a second’s hesitation, with the tides revealing the rock the nest of the Cetus rested upon and the lack of protection provided by the absence of the Cetus, plucked an egg away, all before any of them had a chance to wipe off the salt spray from their eyes.

Yuuri watched but he did not understand.

But understanding was not needed for him to recognize the dawning realization of his rank in the tournament and probability of winning.

That made two.

“Yuuri.” Phichit said, a note of urging in his voice, for after years of traveling, he had learnt how to predict Yuuri’s thoughts, especially when they leaned towards the precarious and dangerous. But Phichit didn’t need his Yuuri-reading abilities to realize what Yuuri himself had: The judges had awarded Yuri full points. Yuri and Atalanta were now tied, but since Yuri had taken half the time that Atalanta had - a feat that had never entered anyone’s minds as being even possible - Yuri was now the leading contender for the prize. For someone else to win meant beating Yuri’s time and score.

But what Yuri had done was nigh impossible.

Yuuri took in a steady breath. Well then, he would just have to do one better than impossible, for he wasn’t planning on losing today.

And now the trap is sprung.

Why struggle in vain?

Love has tied your little wings,

Sprinkled you with cheap perfume, set you fainting in the fire

And given you, in your thirst, hot tears to drink.

- Meleager

Atalanta wasted her time by luring the Cetus out by feinting, Yuri wasted his by focusing on getting the Cetus out of the ocean by having his steeds create a tide large enough using the strength of their beating wings to wash the Cetus out of the ocean.

Admirable strategies, but not ones Yuuri would or could emulate. He didn’t have the time for the first nor the steeds for the second. He needed to get in and out before time was up, he couldn’t afford to play around with the Cetus. So, that only left…

“Ready?” Phichit asked, Yuuri looked up from where he had been staring at while Phichit fixed his wings.

Yuuri nodded and tested his arm movement.

Good enough.

Huh, Yuuri thought ruefully as he sheathed his sword, guess it was a good thing I am the last one flying against the Cetus. Because after I’m done, there won’t be a Cetus left for the next person to try flying against.

“Yuuri, you mustn’t forget.” Phichit said, somber and determined, “Don’t fly too close to the ocean lest the ocean spray get in the feathers and make it too heavy to fly or too close to the sun which will melt the wax holding the wings together. Don’t-”

Yuuri laid a hand on Phichit’s arm and squeezed tightly. The time for words was over. Phichit, something dark and unnameable in his eyes, stopped speaking, eyes reluctant, but didn’t stop Yuuri as he walked away and into the evening light peeking through the tent opening.

Minako was waiting outside.

Yuuri strode past her, only to stop as she said, voice as deep as the oceans themselves, “I will be the first face you see when you leave the ocean. Don’t leave me waiting for too long, you hear?”

Yuuri paused and taking strength from her words, continued walking, but not fast enough for the wind to miss carrying over one last whisper of “Stubborn Child.”

He walked to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the sun, the sky, the ocean and the crowds.

The crowd was loud, had they been this loud the whole time without Yuuri noticing?, and the magical devices responsible for sending his image to every Scrying Screen in the world were turned towards him. They wanted a spectacle, they wanted excitement and they wanted something to take home to talk about. So that decades later they could tell their grandchildren that they were there when so-and-so happened.

But what Yuri had done had been seemingly impossible and a twist of fate. They all weren’t expecting Yuuri to be able to top Yuri’s performance. No one was. Nothing could be achieved without daring for more, when you carried the dreams of all those you held dear, you couldn’t afford to be content with your lot in life. Yuuri set his jaw and raised his face toward the sun.

Watch this, then.

The timer went off, and so did Yuuri, taking a running leap off of the cliff.

The crowd screamed as he fell, and Yuuri waited until he could see the creature under the water stir and rise, much like it had with Atalanta.

But Yuuri didn’t have time for that level of lassitude. Yuuri drew out a dagger and threw it at the creature stirring within.

The creature roared.

Yuuri smiled and using his arms, opened his wings.

The bursts of wind from the Cetus’s outrage only aiding Yuuri, as he arched away from the snapping mouth, water splashing everywhere.

Rhythm or gait. When flying, one must be regular, even and level. Such that any bard could easily compose a song based on your movements alone.

Yuuri focused, evading the water and the Cetus who seemed to have had enough with meddlesome heroes and probably full of rage about her missing eggs.

Relaxation or looseness. One must be free from the anxieties and insecurities, the only thing you must think about is your steed and the wind.

Yuuri forced his mind away from every way this could go wrong and inclines his body to twirl around the body of the Cetus, much like a dancer, leaving cuts from the metal edges of the wings in its wake.

Contact or the impact of your thrust, you must work with your steed rather than against them.

The Cetus twisted away, but Yuuri followed, relentless.

Impulsion or pushing power. Your steed must be ready to deliver maximum impact with minimal effort exerted.

The Cetus was moving against the direction of the wind, in a direction which would make it hard for Yuuri to follow without having to exert extra effort fighting the wind in addition to the Cetus.

Clever.

But not enough to evade me.

Yuuri increased the thrust of his wings and decreased the drag by drawing his arms closer to his body, reducing the open wing span, and continued his assault on the Cetus.

Straightness or posture. Your and your steed’s bodies must follow the line of direction of travel.

The Cetus, still twisting and writhing, had left an opening. Yuuri pushed his feet forward until they were extended toward the back of the Cetus, and arched his back to enable him to land on the Cetus.

And finally, the most difficult of them all, Collection. If you miss even one of the previous steps, you will never reach this stage. In essence, it is the horse's ability to move its centre of gravity to the rear while lifting the free span of its back to better round under the rider. Collection is natural for horses and is often seen during pasture play. A Collected horse can move more freely than one who isn’t.

Yuuri withdrew his sword and plunged it into the back of the Cetus.

The Cetus buckled, twisting every way to get away, but Yuuri held on.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more-

Yuuri threw more force into his sword and forced it downward. He closed his wings completely, letting gravity pull him and his sword downward, slicing the Cetus further.

It was only when he could feel the ocean spray on his face that Yuuri threw open his wings, and let the wind take him further away.

Yuuri watched as the Cetus, now critically wounded, stilled and swayed, movements more erratic than before, until she fell into the ocean and was consumed by it.

This left-

In the second between the drop of the Cetus’s body and the ocean momentarily receding due to the force of the impact, leaving the nest open to Yuuri, Yuuri swooped in and with arms reaching, grabbed an egg from the nest before flying away.

With the egg firmly in his arms and safe in the air, Yuuri closed his eyes and prayed to the gods for the Cetus and her unborn children.

When Yuuri opened his eyes he saw a crowd on their feet, screaming his name. Yuuri blinked and remembered.

He looked at the timer.

Oh.

He had beat Yuri’s score by a minute.

That meant-

It meant…

Yuuri felt rather than allowed the tears to fall.

Oh.

He had won.

He had-

Yuuri heard a pop.

And watched as a wooden slat fell to the ocean from his wings.

Eyes wide, Yuuri realized that more and more slats were falling to the ocean than he’d realized, but why-

The sun!

The evening sun was closer than he’d realized. The wax holding the wings together was melting. He was falling!

Yuuri pursed his lips as the crowd realized what was happening.

No.

Not like this.

If this is to be my last flight, I will make Helios himself sit up and take notice. If I am to die today, I will die knowing that even the sun couldn’t outshine me at this very moment.

Yuuri opened his wings and flew towards a nearby rock to leave the egg on, if anything, he was unwilling to let another die with him.

Yuuri kept his arms almost to his side and plummeted toward the rock, as his wings came apart around him.

He could reach it-

It was so close-

Almost-

The ocean rose with the tide, spray hitting Yuuri’s face until he could taste the salt.

Yuuri, you mustn’t forget.

Yuuri’s eyes widened as his fight deviated from the arc he had planned to reach the rock, the wings suddenly seemed heavier than before.

The rock was still looming, but with his current trajectory, it wouldn’t be his feet meeting it.

Yuuri threw out his arms, widening his wing span, hoping against hope, but-

The egg in his hands fell as-

Yuuri fell back into the ocean. He watched as the noise of the crowd became indistinct and his vision was blurred from the blood spreading from the injury to his head.

He watched, arms outstretched, wings dragging him further into the ocean’s awaiting arms.

One moment he was falling and the next, he wasn’t.

A force pushed him out of the ocean, until Yuuri was sure he was imagining it, for surely-

He could feel the sun on his face and a hard surface supporting his back from hitting the water again. Every bone in his body felt heavy with lassitude. His head felt cold, but he knew he had hit it. How could it be there was no pain, for surely he wasn’t mistaken, his head had hit the rock as he-

Oh.

He was dying.

I am afraid that because of my failings, I am going to lose you again, Yuuri. This time forever.

Yuuri struggled to open his eyes to meet the blurry, red-tinged skies. Funny, it was a lovely day. Tis a pity, he chose such a bad day to die on.

He could hear distant screams. Why were they screaming? It was such a lovely day.

They sounded familiar. Yuuri should see if he could help.

It truly was too fine a day to be so upset.

Hmm, gotten gutsy have you? Who are you and what have you done with my crybaby brother?

Yuuri tried to move, but it seemed as if his body was feeling more rebellious than usual. But as the ocean water lapped at his body and the warmth of the sun shone on him, he couldn’t muster up enough ire for his disobedient muscles. But if Minako - dear, dignified, Minako - were here, she’d never stand for this lethargy that was seeping into him. Not after how long she’d spent training him.

No, I don’t believe you can hope to aspire to reach Hercules’s heights… I believe you can and will one day surpass him.

Training him to be a Hero, someone who could- who could...

Yuuri felt like he was forgetting something.

Oh, his thoughts were water and his clumsy grasps weren’t enough to pierce together a thought anymore.

I’ll be back! And I’ll bring some apples. Wish me luck, old friend. I’ll see you soon.

The screams seemed to have gotten louder, but also somehow, they sounded farther away than before.

Was he going somewhere? Or were they leaving?

Yuuri hoped-

Yuuri, that dance, it- it reminded me of what I have to lose. Yuuri-

Yuuri could- he could see silver skies ahead, but he didn’t want to- there were people waiting for him...

A golden light, somehow familiar by presence if not by features, appeared. It was beckoning.

He couldn’t-

Yuuri, please w-

And the Fates, just as quickly and uncaring of his preparation for entering the world cared naught then, they practiced the same irreverence now, indiscriminate and deaf to the screams in the distance and Yuuri-

Yuuri knew no more.

On the morn of the Summer Solstice, in front of a crowd of thousands, Yuuri Katsuki died.

#yoi #yuri on ice #victuuri #viktuuri #victuri #vikturi #yuuri katsuki #icarus au #mypost #myfic

36 notes · View notes