In the actual temple, a broken altar sat in the middle of the far back wall, the depiction above it cracked and in ruins.

Varian hesitated to move any farther into the temple at that sight. It felt... off. Which was why he stayed at the entrance, one hand on the pillar beside him. For a while, just the silence remained while he tried to figure out what was going on.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over toward the source of the sound.

Varian was somewhat surprised to be met with a young man. He was dressed in traditional Greek clothing, with a somewhat wane smile in his face. His golden hair fell neatly, straight, while his eyes seemed to shimmer like deep sky.

"I can't blame you for not going in," he said quietly, as if also trying to keep some reverence to the temple ruins. "It... feels..."

"Off," Varian finished his sentence, breaking his own silence. "What's... going on? Is this some sort of dream?"

"No," he replied honestly, looking back at Varian. "This isn't a dream."

Varian paled for a moment. "Dante--"

"Dante is fine," the young man lifted his hands up quickly. "He's with Artemis. They're safe, I promise."

Varian shook his head lightly, leaning back against the pillar. "What...?"

The being hesitated and turned to look out across the vast landscape.

The plateau, the forest, what looked like rocky hills, an alcove and a large lagoon, and a lot of open fields and grass.

"This is the Isle of Gold," he finally mumbled. "It... was a secret retreat of the gods... but... they're gone. They... the gods have forsaken us."

Varian turned his head to look at the young man a bit closer. "Who are you?"

A slow sigh escaped the other young man, his chest and shoulders falling. As if a weight had been pressed on the top of his shoulders, heavier than the temple roof above them. He didn't even look back at Varian either.

"My name is Ganymede," he sighed, slowly straightening once again. "I am... was the cup-bearer for the gods."

Left alone in the doorway of the temple, Varian glanced back once again. The shadows and the crumpled altar seemed to have a far more chilling feeling than before. Abandoning mortals meant that they didn't need altars, they didn't need anything from them anymore. Why keep it around?

He finally looked toward the fields of grass, spotting what might've been a well in the distance and a figure nearby. It was as good as anything at this point and Varian, reminding himself that Dante was okay--Dante was ... fine. Artemis was the literal protector of children, he would be okay.

Varian pushed one hand through his hair and finally began to make his way through the grassy fields. Butterflies occasionally flitted through the flowers, touching lightly before drifting off again, bouncing with the breeze. They seemed vibrant, brightly colored and large. Far larger than any he had ever seen on earth. Some of them almost looked like moths that ate on the grass instead of the flowers.

Strange things.

Varian realized, after a good five minutes of walking, that he had severely misjudged the distance between him and that well. He hesitated to actually exhibit any of his abilities but at the same time... he would be walking for so, so long.

While Varian didn't exhibit many abilities, the one he did was a shapeshifting ability. He leapt forward, landing on sturdy hooves. The centaur steadied himself for a moment before starting off at a much faster pace than before. Varian's horse half was a rather simple coloring. With a lighter champagne sort of color with white wrapped around his midsection, touching around his shoulders, a splotch around the base of his tail and tinging his feathered hooves into mid-length socks.

With a shorter tail, mirroring his soft strawberry-ish blond hair, he seemed soft and warm.

It took him a good hour or so to reach the well. By the which, the figure had sat down.

The same man, without wings, and older than before, sat on a bench while another--who looked similar--paced back and forth in front of him.

"You don't get it," the younger man, hardly more than a teen, snapped at the other. "You just don't get it. No--you do," he growled.

"Talos," the man persisted, sounding tired. "I do understand. I was once in your shoes. It is not envy. It is worry. You are a bright young man, you are an aspiring inventor and engineer and capable of many great things," he insisted. "But Talos, some things are not meant to be made."

"Like what?" Talos paused in his pacing to face him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Like the saw to cut trees? Like ways to tell where to go using the earth itself?"

"That's not what I mean," the older man protested. "Those are good but it's the other things. Things man aren't meant to make--"

"Oh here we go again," Talos threw his hands in the air. "Just because I made a working owl and you didn't doesn't mean nothing. I can make metallic animals, we don't have to rely on actual animals."

"That's what I'm worried about," he stood up finally. "What about the gods? Athena is a very ... envious goddess," he hesitated to say but continued anyways. "If you make them and don't attribute her, she will have her vengeance."

Talos scoffed and rolled his eyes, walking to the edge, passing through Varian. Varian shuddered and turned around to watch him. "So what? It's not like they're going to come down at smite you just because you make a working metal owl."

"You don't know that," the response was tired and irritated. "You just don't know that. Nobody knows what the gods do--heaven forbid, no one knows where Zeus ever is. He's a plague."

"You're just worried that I'll be better and I'll be recognized by the gods," Talos preened, looking out at the starry sky. "Tch, figures. You'll never be proud of me."

The poor thing was merely a newborn, a child, not a monster. But, at the same time, perhaps he understood its plight better. After all, he had been born centaur and not man.

This, the poor Minotaur, had been born as a bull-headed man.

"Imprison it," Pasiphaë cried out. "Keep it guarded but we can't kill it."

It.

Him.

Varian scowled now, rather furious. "Him! Him!" He shouted finally. "He is just a child. He's free of your stupidity!"

The moment he stepped forward, Varian stood alongside the same man. "Something, I don't care. Just something where it can't escape."

"I understand, King Minos. I understand," he bowed, deeply as the man slammed the door behind him.

"Why is he so angry?" A small voice whispered from under the bedding on the corner. "Is Minos always that mad?"

Almost immediately, the older man turned to gather the mound of blankets into his arms. "Oh, my little one," he whispered softly. "Minos is... simply scared. He doesn't know how to feel and so he lashes out."

The child, no more than six, pouted. "He sounded scary."

"Sometimes we do," the man mumbled. "But we have to remember to keep calm, because we never know what others will think or hear."

Varian winced at the thought again. Out of context, everything could be horrific. It didn't matter what.

"What does he want you to build?"

"It's a ... home for the new creature. But he... doesn't want them to get hurt by others. It has to be a safe home. I'm going to call it the Labyrinth."

Varian mouthed the word, finally realizing who he was looking at. Daedalus.

The inventor.

Another wash of emotion swept over his chest at the realization. "Oh sweet stars," Varian whispered. "Oh... no."

The calm and fond look that Daedalus gave to Icarus... was painful. Varian knew what was coming.

And right then, right there, he wished he could tell him. To get out now. While he could.

But the vision faded.

Varian fell to his knees on the dirt, holding the lantern in one hand.

Varian took a few moments to gather his emotions, to steel himself, and finally crawled forward. The lopsided shuffle was almost painful as he knelt and looked at the two feathers.

Two.

Varian swallowed dryly, just watching them for a few moments. Oh he really, really, did not want to grab them. But at this point, he had no choice.

His outstretched fingers were met with the painless shock, as the tunnel swirled around him. Varian's eyes screwed shut, almost unwilling to even look anywhere at all at first. But the hushed whispering finally drew his curiosity out of its shell.

"Dad, I've got this," Icarus whispered in the darkness. "You just don't understand. I'm going to be careful."

"Icarus, the gods aren't what you think they are," Daedalus replied in a tired whisper. "Poseidon is cruel, Apollo is foolish and young. Athena is wicked and heartless. They don't have your respect or your interests or anything at heart. We don't matter to them at all."

The father gripped his son's shoulders, finishing with tying the honey yellow feathers onto the young man's arms. "Now remember?"

"Not too high, the sun will melt them," Icarus dutifully, if not bored, recounted the instructions. "Not too low or they'll fall apart because of the water."

A sigh of some relief escaped from Daedalus. "Good," he whispered. "Stay close."

The inventor moved to the door, listening, before pushing it open. The window was just two steps away and Daedalus made sure Icarus leapt out first. The young man stretched his arms out, feathers catching the breeze. His hair and stola rippling in the wind.

Daedalus, making sure no guards were there, leapt after him. Varian, despite not having wings, drifted along the two, staying close to Daedalus.

Hours drifted by with nothing but the ocean below and the sun above.

Icarus kept glancing up at the sky and began to drift upward and then slowly glide back down. He repeated the process, getting further and further upward with each climb.

"Icarus," Daedalus warned, his tone shaking. "That's too high."

"Relax, they haven't melted yet," Icarus replied smoothly. He gave Daedalus a dazzling smile. "It's just fine."

"I can't catch you if you fall," Daedalus insisted. "Stay close."

The next feather was nearby, tinged with sand. Varian, heart heavy, reached out. The spark arched from the feather to his finger but hardly stung.

Not that he cared at this point. If it hurt, perhaps that was for the best. It seemed to be a common occurrence.

The end of the well tunnel was just inches behind the last feather. Varian first reached out to brush his hand along the dry dirt, letting it crumble under his touch.

Then he lowered his hand and reached to pick up the feather.

It gave the least and smallest little spark, worn out, weary, and tired. Especially compared to others.

Still, the vision opened around him.

The lantern was quickly retrieved and the bucket dropped down again for Varian to climb up. He didn't really want to make any assumptions right at first but at the same time, now that he knew the man's name... it felt rude to call him by sir. "You weren't aware that the feathers were magic, were you?" Varian pulled himself onto the edge of the well with a slow grunt.

"I was," he responded quietly. "It was a quest."

Varian, surprised, looked up at him for a silent moment or two. "I just completed a quest for you?"

He bobbed his head. "I'm sure you know who I am now."

"Oh Daedalus," Varian slid out of the well and eagerly gathered him into his arms. "Dude..."

They both sank down to their knees, each other in their embrace. "I'm so ... I... I..." Varian couldn't hardly find the right words.

"It's okay," Daedalus murmured softly, his fatherly instinct to run his hands through Varian's hair. "It was my life to live. Not yours. I have had eons to come to terms and grieve."

"They failed you," Varian insisted. "The gods failed you."

"Perhaps they did," Daedalus said quietly. "But there were thousands of us, and only a few of them."

"They're immortal, they had temples and demigods and so much power. They could have helped you at any time," Varian insisted, sitting back on his feet. "Retribution...?"

At that, Daedalus turned away. His expression darkened, a frown pulling at his lips. "I called on Nemesis several times. But what could she do against Athena? What could she do against Poseidon? She had no power over Hades."

Varian stared back at him with an open jawed expression. "Oh really?! Why don't we just give her the useless trophy and call it a day."

"Because she's gone," Daedalus said softly. "I have taken her place. I'm working on a lot of things now, making them right," he said and slowly looked up at Varian. "But it isn't easy."