Obi-Wan didn't understand Ircaus or Daedalus.

The first time he heard the story he was in his Cultures and Myths class, listening to Jedi Knight Qel tell the Nubian story.

There once was a clever inventor by the name of Daedalus. He lived first in Athens, then Crete, then Sicily, before finally settling in Sardinia. In each place he did his best to serve the queens and kings, knowing his duty. Sometimes his talents and creations were distorted and used unwisely, but he did not despair knowing that all things, no matter how pure, can be exploited and his duty did not change. Most of the time however his inventions were used well and when they were not he did all he could to undo the damage.

Daedalus unintentionally played a role in the creation of the minator. But the man contained it. Later the inventor helped the hero who freed the people, but in doing so betrayed his king, Minos. Minos in a rage sealed him and his son in the labyrinth that Daedalus himself had built.

Here the class paused to discuss duty, more specifically the duty of Daedalus to his rulers and the Jedi to the Republic. Their duty was to the Republic, but was the Republic a system of government that worked best for all people and was thus above the duty to individuals? Was that not why they had the rule against attachments? Or was the Republic they were sworn to serve the people themselves? Wasn't the point of government to serve the people? What if the government hurt the people of the Republic as a whole? Then the Jedi should be on the side of the people, should they not? But where was the line drawn?

(Many years later Obi-Wan would yell that he was loyal to the Republic, but then would change his words and claim to be loyal to democracy instead. But not loyal enough, he discovered, to deliver the final blow.)

Daedalus escaped the labyrinth easily enough – he was its creator and knew it as none other. But how to escape Crete entirely, for he now knew that was what he must do. Minos controlled the land and sea – there would be no escape from the island though boat. Star ships had not yet been invented, but clever Daedalus saw the birds climb and swoop in freedom.

"Minos controls both land and sea, but not the regions of air and it is there we shall make our escape."

Daedalus fashioned wings for himself and his son Icarus. He took feathers fallen from the birds, attaching larger ones with string, securing the smaller ones with wax and curving them like a birds. His son did the best he could to help. Sometimes eagerly running to collect feathers the wind tried to steal, other times tending to the wax. Even in captivity his eyes sparkled with play. Yet sometimes he would impede his father's work more than help it along. Deadalus could be frustrated with his child, but loved him still and did his best to teach the boy, even when Icarus did not wish to learn.

At last the work was done and the artist lifted himself into the air, then taught his child to do the same as a bird leads her younglings from the nest to the air. At last all was in place and Deadalus called his child to him.

"Icarus, my son, listen to me. When you fly, go neither too low nor too high. If you go too low the sea will dampen your wings and make your journey difficult. But it is the heights that you must truly fear for the sun will melt the wax and I will not be able to stop your plunge into the sea below. Keep with me my child, and you shall be safe."

He trembled as he fitted his son with the wings, worried and knowing the trip was dangerous. But what choice did he have? Icarus could not remain hidden, trapped, a prisoner in all but name, for his whole life. He would have to take the chance to let his son fly and trust Icarus to make the right choice and obey him. So with tears on his face he kissed his child and they took to the air, Deadalus often glancing back from his own flight to see how his son fared.

As they took to the air adults stopped their work and children their play to watch, astonished. Some murmured as they soared by that these were surely not ordinary humans to so cleave the air. Deadalus continued on while Icarus listened to their words. They flew from Crete well enough and it seemed that Deadalus' invention would bear them to safety. But Icarus grew proud and careless.

"I am like a god not a man to so easily take to the air!" he cried and no longer took pains to follow his father.

Once, twice, three times Deadalus called to him and chastised his son, reminding the boy to stay closer and not take so many risks. Why could he not stay by his father where he would be safe? And yet, as wise as he was, Deadalus could not stop the smile that flitted across his face as he saw his son's joy and heard the boy's laughter. A small part of him whispered to let his child have this jubilation – it was Icarus' first taste of freedom – even as his mind knew the dangers.

But Icarus' happiness proved to be short lived. He climbed higher and higher, growing more confident with each small victory. He grew angry at his father's chastising.

"He's just jealous," Icarus' pride hissed, "he's holding you back."

Once, twice, three times Icarus' wings faltered, and he began to fall, but each time he caught himself. But he was careless, arrogant, and drunk on the exhilaration of freedom. For though Deadalus had memories of the times before he was imprisoned, Icarus had no such experience. And Deadalus, wise as he was, had not thought of how wings would feel to one who knew only chains.

Icarus began to climb, higher and higher, as if to embrace Heaven! The sun god Helios, a warm guide to those far below him, proved Deadalus' words true. The wax on Icarus' wings began to melt and he fell. He called out and Deadalus, flying ahead, turned only in time to see his child fall from the light sky and plunge into the dark, unforgiving sea. Crying out he flew over the spot his son had fell and watched, unable to do anything, as his child sank deeper and deeper into the darkness until he could see him no more.

Daedalus landed in Sicily and hung up his wings as an offering to the gods and mourned his child and his failure.

The class discussed what the story meant and it was clear that Icarus was responsible for his own fate. Obi-Wan really couldn't understand either Daedalus or Icarus. Icarus was arrogant and caused his own fall. If Daedalus were really so wise he would have realized this and not mourned so. His failure, if there was one, came much earlier when he had not nipped his child's pride in the bud. But still while in the air Daedalus did his best and nothing more could be asked of him, save perhaps not to have given in to the temptation to let his child be happy at the expense of Icarus' safety. Obi-Wan would do his paper, but really, he couldn't understand Daedalus or Icarus at all.