Mazes Burnt and Ageless Gods

Epic Fantasy / 6000 words

PREFACE: Good old Varushka is back! What sort of mess has he gotten himself into now? Read on to find out!

The taste of blood stings in my mouth. Lingers a moment longer than it should. I do not worry about it. I revel in it.

When it finally fades, I let out a sigh and look down at the corpse. Guilt fills my heart. I have drunk again when I had sworn never to drink again—not from a human, at least.

Granted, this one made it difficult for me to refuse him when he came at me swinging an axe...

Still.

I grab my cane by the skull and use it to push myself back to my feet.

He and his friends tried to jump me as I traveled through the forest. They all now lay dead in the clearing.

Bad day for them.

After washing the blood off my face in a nearby stream, I resume my journey south. Not that I have any clear destination in mind. I follow the rumors I hear—when there are any to hear—hoping beyond hope that someday I might find a path, a gate, an opening, something that will take me back home.

My mind wanders as I walk. Thinking of all I have seen, all I have done, all I must yet endure. Have I made the right choices? It is not only about those men I have killed today, but about all those others that came before. I feel I could have done better. I could have been more, well, human about it.

I distractedly take a right turn as I consider what options I have and have not. I am a creature of habits and, even more so, one of instinct. It is difficult for one such as I—perhaps even impossible—to resist certain urges. Though I must say, living among them has had a calming effect on me. Despite the killings, I know there have been other occasions when I acted against my nature. I am not sure what it means, but one can only hope.

Another turn, to the left, as I consider the implications of my actions. If only there was a way I could better control my—

I freeze.

Look around me.

Something is off.

Trees everywhere. That much is normal. It is a forest, after all. And yet...

Why did I make those turns?

I realize what troubles me. The trees are too close together. So close you could not pass between them. And yet they form a corridor. There’s a wide path before me with no trees. If I made those turns, it was because I had no other choice.

This does not please me.

I remain standing there, staring at the vegetation.

The best thing I can do is turn around and backtrack. So I turn around... but there is nothing there but trees. There is no going back.

Very well, then. If I have no choice, I must press forward.

I do so, but now my mind is focused, observing my surroundings with each step.

Soon I come to a crossing. There are three ways I can go, each bordered with trees so close together as to form a wall...

A wall.

It is a maze, then.

A maze.

I have seen such things before. They are never pleasant.

If I must choose, then I choose left.

After a few more steps, the trail turns right. Here, the branches grow long, covering the trees, and the branches turn thorny. Soon, thorns are all that is left.

I walk in a tunnel with walls made of thorns.

No, not a tunnel. I glance up and the darkening blue sky is still there. That is something, I suppose.

But this is not natural.

Nothing like this should exist in the realm of men.

***

Before long, I hear voices. Grumbling and chiding. A man and a woman.

“—but did you listen? Nooooo. Of course not. You just had to rush into it, as you always do. With no consideration for—”

“Could you please shut up already?”

“If you can’t be bothered to stop before jumping into an obvious trap, why should I bother to stop talking? Eh? Riddle me that.”

“First, it wasn’t a trap! Second—”

“Oh ho ho! Not a trap! What would you call this then?”

“I call it a maze, not a—”

The two come into view as they walk past a corner and the woman stops speaking when she spots me. Her hand goes to her sword though, to her credit, she does not draw.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks.

The man is not tall—less so than her—only slightly over five feet. He has a thick brown beard, no hair, and a frown around the eyes. He wears an armor and holds an axe. One might have mistaken him for a dwarf, but he clearly is human. As is his companion—the one with the red hair, olive skin, and crescent-shaped amulet. She wears a white robe with a gold trim.

I rest both my hands on the skull pommel of my cane and offer them my friendliest smile, hoping it might offset what can sometimes seem like a frightening appearance.

“Count Varushka,” I say with a nod. “And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

The bearded one snorts. “The pleasure, ha!” He glares at his companion. “You hear that? The pleasure!”

“Shut it, Garden,” she says without turning her eyes from me.

I quirk a brow at the name. “Garden?”

The man scowls. “Don’t even think of going there if you know what’s good for you.” He grabs his axe with both hands, clenching it until his knuckles turn white.

“I am Landra,” says the woman, ignoring her companion’s reaction.

I notice she keeps her hand on her sword. If it makes her feel safer, that is fine.

“Well met,” I say pleasantly. “I take it you are as lost as I?”

She frowns. “I had hoped you’d have answers.” I see her relaxing a little, her hand straying only slightly from the weapon.

“Afraid not. How long have you been roaming these corridors?”

“Corridors! Ha!” Garden snarls.

Still ignoring him, the woman wrinkles her nose. “It’s hard to keep track of time here. Feels like days, though. You?”

“Minutes.”

“Oh. Welcome, I guess?”

“You say it’s hard to keep track of time... Why is that?”

She glances up at the darkening blue sky. “Look at it. Often. You’ll see what I mean.”

I frown. “Night never comes?”

She looks back at me and nods. “Do you know of such things?”

“I do not practice magic, if that is your meaning.”

“I’m not sure it was.” She sighs. “To be honest, nothing here makes any sense, so I don’t even know what I’m asking anymore.”

Garden snorts. “Anymore? Try ever! Need I remind you, you were the one who got us into this mess to begin with. You really need—”

She suddenly spins to face him, stabbing him in the chest with her index finger.

“What I need is for you to shut your big mouth! I am so tired of your constant whining. You were happy enough to follow me when we set off from Kaerlud, were you not?”

The man grunts and turns away from her, mumbling to himself so low I cannot hear what he says. Landra stares at his back for a moment, as if to make sure he’s not going to start up again, then turns to face me, her hands now fallen to her sides in a more relaxed stance.

“Sorry about that. He can be grumpy when he hasn’t eaten.”

Garden growls, but she ignores him.

“That is quite alright,” I say. “I would offer food, but sadly I have none.”

This is true as I carry no bag. Food has never been an issue for me. I can go without eating for days. And when I do get hungry, well... blood is never too hard to come by.

The woman nods. “I suppose we should move on. You’re welcome to join us, if you like.”

I ponder this for a moment, then shake my head.

“Thank you for the offer, it is very gracious of you, but I would like to explore in the opposite direction.” I point with my chin at the corridor they came from.

She looks over her shoulder and nods.

“Yes, I suppose I understand that. Not everyone sees the same things.”

“Indeed?”

“Perhaps you’ll have better luck than us.” She looks at her companion. “Come on, Garden. Let’s move.”

He says nothing, but when she walks, he follows. Grunts as he goes past me.

“Farewell,” I say softly as they go.

And then I start as well.

There are many twists and turns, and I perceive not all of them are physical. The place intrigues me.

Why is it here? What is its nature? Why am I here? Was it a mere coincidence?

I lift my eyes to stare at the sky. It is exactly as it was when I’d first looked up. Darkening. Neither clearer nor darker.

Very well. A mystery it is, then.

I like mysteries.

***

At the next turn, I pause. There is a man here. Except, he is not really a man. One with skin as gray as ash, who lacks hair, and wears silver garments made from the flesh of his kin. I have seen others like him before. He does not belong here.

He lies on the ground, arms spread out, staring at the sky. If he has heard me, he makes no sign that he has.

I clear my throat.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, his voice deep and mournful. “Just go your way.”

I am tempted to do just that, but something in his voice holds me back. Stepping closer, I look down at his bloodshot eyes.

“What seems to be the problem?” I ask.

He stares at me and laughs.

“The problem? What is not a problem? I am wandering through a maze with no end. There is no more hope for me, no more life. It is all done. My wandering ends here.”

“You cannot will yourself to die,” I say softly.

He winces. “If only I could. It would shorten the wait, would it not? No matter. I don’t mind waiting. At least, there’s a nice view from here.”

“How long have you been trapped?”

He shrugs. “Longer than I care to acknowledge. Months. Years, perhaps? Who knows? Not I.”

We remain quiet for a moment, then I turn and walk away. There is nothing I can do for him. Nor he for me.

I find many crossroads as I go. Those, of course, are what make mazes so tricky. That the passage behind me sometimes changes only makes it trickier.

It occurs to me then that there is an easy way out. Perhaps ‘easy’ is not the most appropriate term. It would be taxing, for sure, but I care little for that if it can pull me out of this mess—a mess I care even less for.

So as I walk, I focus and start to phase out, reaching for the plane above the realm of men... only to find the maze is there as well.

This gives me pause.

I try to phase again, to the next plane, but still it is there.

That is when it hits me.

The maze spreads through different dimensions.

It explains the presence of the gray-skinned creature, and the nature of the walls...

I frown as I notice the thorns have morphed into bones. And by this, I do not mean that they are embedded on a stone surface. No. Rather, it is as if they are piled one atop another, used as bricks to shape a wall.

Letting go of the connection, I slip back into the realm of men and look about me.

The bones are still here—as is the darkening blue sky above.

I start to walk again, my step perhaps quicker now as hope grows within my heart.

***

My mind reels with the possibilities. But I must not get ahead of myself. I could be misreading things. And yet... what else could it be?

If the maze spreads across multiple realities, then the question is: how far up does it go?

The notion of ‘up’ or ‘down’ is, of course, misleading. There is no such thing as up or down. And yet, there is some form of layering where planes are concerned. Some are closer to others, some further by necessity. The furthest of all is the Gleaming. My home. From which I was banished by my nemesis, who usurped my throne.

Well, perhaps not the furthest, but that is a topic for another day.

I nearly bump into him at the next turn.

Tall, blonde, eyes as green as his clothing. Slanted eyes, pointed ears. I’ve seen his kind before. Fay.

Startled, he backs up, lifting a hand as if to ward me off—perhaps he knows my kind as well.

“Do not come closer, efrath!”

I lean on my cane with both hands and look at him with curiosity.

“Pardon me, kind sir, but I do not know what that means.”

My kin would mock me for such words. I know this. And yet, in all my travels, I have found that showing respect and kindness, being polite, will have better results when dealing with humans or even fay. Again, I am proven right when the man relaxes slightly. Still he frowns and takes another step back, but his hand goes down.

“You are a creature of the night,” he says. “A bloodhound.”

There is truth to his words, I cannot deny it.

“I will not hurt you,” is all I can answer. “It would serve no purpose.”

His frown deepens. “You need a purpose to hurt others?”

I smile. “So do your people. And the humans. Everyone, really.” He stares at me as if I was a madman. So I feel like I must elaborate. “Do your kind not wage wars?” With a nod, he grudgingly admits that they do. “Is there no purpose there? Surely, you would not pretend your wars to be random and meaningless? And what of punishing criminals? Is there no purpose there either?”

“You play with words, efrath. You try to bewitch me.”

“Hardly. I know no magic. In that department, I believe you are much more versed than I. And my name is Count Varushka. I would prefer if you addressed me as such.”

He stares at me in silence and I choose to respect it, understanding he needs time to think. I am in no hurry.

No, that is not entirely true. There is a sense of urgency growing inside me. Now that I suspect the nature of the maze, I yearn to confirm it. Still, a few minutes longer will make little difference.

Finally, he shrugs. “Magic does not work here as it should.”

I quirk a brow. “Indeed?”

This I had not expected.

“There are no trees. No plants. No water. Only earth and air, but that is not much to work with.”

Ah. Of course. I had forgotten. The fay work with elements. This type of magic would be limited here, with walls such as these. I glance at the bones and see the man shudder as he follows my gaze.

“I need to find trees,” he mutters as he circles me—making sure not to touch me—and heads away without another word.

I watch him until he disappears around a bend, then start walking again.

***

Two come to me now. These as well do not belong. Translucent beings with glowing eyes who lack a nose or a mouth. Still they talk, though how they manage to remains a mystery. Because they have no lips and stare at me unmoving, it is hard to tell which of them speaks. For all I know, they may take turns, though it sounds like one voice to me. Perhaps they speak in unison.

“Our master summons you.”

I raise a brow at this.

Summon me?

Who would dare such a thing?

Surely one who knows not my nature.

Still, I am sufficiently intrigued that I accept to follow them.

They walk the paths with confidence, as if they alone know the patterns of the maze. It is troubling.

As we walk, I notice the bones have morphed into swords. Again, they are not embedded within any material, but rather stacked tightly together in such a way as to form walls around us.

Why swords, though, I could not guess.

Perhaps the maze has heard my talk with the fay and thought it would be amusing to take this appearance. Or is it mocking me?

I dismiss either notion as preposterous. A maze could not be sentient.

Or could it?

There is magic that could do this, I think. There is magic, in other planes, that could do anything. It is just a matter of finding it and harnessing it.

I will not pretend to know of such matters. I do not. But I have heard enough in my long life to not assume things are impossible. In truth, very little is.

Soon we arrive at what I can only describe as a clearing. A large square-like opening within the maze. I still see the sword-walls, but they are further apart here.

In the center of the clearing is a fountain with benches around it. A man sits there. He looks up and smiles.

“Count Varushka. It is good to finally meet you.”

***

I do no kindness to men calling this one such. He is not that. Never was, never will be.

He, too, is a creature of another plane—as am I.

I fear my words may be misconstrued. Far from me the thought of implying this being is known to me. It is not. At least, not as an individual, though I recognize his nature, his origin, as clearly as he recognizes mine.

Then, of course, he knows my name, which gives him an edge over me.... Assuming such an edge means anything—which it could in some realms other than this one.

I stare at him for a moment as I lean on my cane.

“You wished to see me?” I ask.

“All business, I see! Very well.” It irks me that he would not stand in my presence—let alone bow to one above his station. “I require your help.”

“You do indeed?”

“Yes. I need you to help me find the way out.”

I laugh.

For a moment, I had thought perhaps he was the one who had created this maze. His servants knew their way around well enough. And yet, clearly, he is not if he asks this of me. Unless it is a trick. But to what end?

He frowns. “You find this amusing?”

Still holding the cane with my left hand, I gesture around us with the other.

“I assure you, ladrek, if I knew the way out, I would not be standing here, and I would not be hearing the words you speak.”

He squints. “You will call me by my name. I am Adru.”

“I will call you any way I like,” I answer as my hand returns to the pommel of my cane. “Or do you forget who I am?”

“No, Count, I do not. But you have no power over me here.”

“Oh? How do you figure?”

“I control things here.”

He motions toward the two servants—though I see four others have joined them while we spoke. Then, his hand waves at the ground to his right and a tree sprouts from the earth, growing so fast it thickens and rises under my eyes, until it blows and fades. His next gesture is toward the fountain behind him, where water starts to boil and jump in the air, forming little arcs of foam.

I smile. “You think that is enough to make you superior?”

Anger flickers in his eyes. “Do you not know I am a god!”

Humans have many beliefs, many religions, with countless deities. They are real enough. It is simply that they are of a different nature than those who praise them would think. They are, in fact, creatures of another plane. Ladrek. As is this one.

They are powerful beings, that much is true. But they are quite a few levels ‘under’ the Gleaming, as it may be. He is no match for my kind. He knows this. But he thinks the maze makes him stronger. And perhaps it does. But if it makes him stronger, then it stands to reason it would make me stronger as well.

More likely, we are exactly as we were before.

“Just because some humans believe it does not make it so,” I tell him. I raise a hand to stop him before he replies. “It is a moot point, either way, as I do not know the way out. I am stuck here as much as you are.”

He frowns. “You are mistaken. The key is within you. Find it, and you will unlock the way.”

His words make me uncomfortable, so I turn and leave.

***

There is not one plane that is more ‘real’ than any other. It does not work like that. Each is as real as its neighbors. They exist within the same space—that is the tricky part—and some hold more power than others. In fact, the further you go from the realm of men, the more power you find.

To create a maze like this would require a tremendous amount of energy. Some of my kind could do it, but there are others as well.

I find myself wondering about the maze—its nature, its purpose, its makers. What does it mean? And how could one such as Adru become trapped here? Then again, if it happened to me, could it not to him as well?

As I ponder these matters, I meet other creatures—small sentient balls of fur that roll away at my sight; lizard-like beings that hiss and slide and beg for mercy; little green men with antlers and violet eyes... None of them belong here.

Then I see another translucent form with glowing eyes. This one is alone, though it walks with purpose. For a moment, I think it comes for me, but it moves past, with not even a glance. I reach out and grab its arm. It stops, turns, waits.

“Who is your master?” I ask.

Despite the lack of a mouth, it answers.

“The god Adru is all-powerful. He awaits me.”

“If he is all-powerful, then why is he trapped here?”

“Other gods were displeased with him.”

“Is that so?” The being says nothing. “How much of the maze do you understand?”

Those glowing eyes blink, staring at me. “Understand, lord?”

“Yes. You seem to know your way about. Can you not find the exit?”

“It is hidden from my people.”

A thought occurs to me then. It is baffling in its simplicity.

“Why does your master not destroy the maze?”

“I do not know, lord.”

“He is a god, is he not?”

“He is.”

“Then, should he not be able to destroy it? Would this not free him?” I know for a fact that it would.

“The maze was made by other gods, lord.”

That seems enough of an explanation for the creature, but not for me.

“Do you know where the center of the maze is?”

“I do, lord.”

Nodding, I let go of his arm, and the creature moves away. Heading back to his master, no doubt.

These beings could have taken Adru to the heart, where he could easily have if not destroyed, weakened and unraveled the substance that keeps this all together.

No. There is something else at work here.

This is a prison. That much is obvious now. And yet, the prisoner would rather not escape.

Then why did he ask me to find the way out?

I frown as I begin to understand.

Destroying the maze would free him, but it would also send him back to his own realm—as it would send all the wandering souls back to their own... myself included. It would be the quickest way for me to return to the Gleaming.

I look up at the sky. It is still blue. It is still darkening. As if no time had passed.

Adru, I realize, does not want to go back to his own plane. He would have to confront once again those who had chained him here.

However, if I showed him the exit, it would lead him into the realm of men. Where he could do much damage if he was so inclined. But, more importantly, there would be no one powerful enough to stop or to capture him. A god among mortals.

This I cannot allow.

So the answer is simple. I must destroy the maze myself.

Which would send me back home in the process.

I smile at the thought and start walking again.

***

An alluring scent tickles my nostrils.

Blood.

My head snaps to the right. The swords are gone. The surfaces around me now glisten with this all too familiar red hue. It draws me. I reach out and touch the closest wall. Bring the fingers to my mouth. Lick them. Grimace.

It smells like blood, it looks like blood, but it is not blood. This is... I do not know what. A parody, a travesty, a delusion...

I move on, though I now find it harder to focus while this intoxicating smell perturbs my senses. Perhaps I should have asked the servant to show me the way. Would it have, though? I am not its master.

Others wander through these halls. At times, it almost feels more populated than the streets of Kaerlud. It is strange that so many have been caught here. Even more so knowing the nature of the maze. Would its creators have wanted this? I cannot imagine they would have. What could have gone wrong?

And what of Adru’s servants? Had they been cast away with him? When you jail a criminal, you do not give him servants. This puzzles me.

The more I walk, the more I think. And the more I think, the more I grow uneasy.

I must focus on my destination, or I will never find it.

How does one find the heart of a maze, you ask? By looking for its opposite. The more one tries to find the exit, the more one is pulled deeper within. It then only becomes a matter of recognizing it for what it is.

The core is what holds it all together. It is its own source of power. One could, theoretically, follow the energy flows, but this is difficult when there are no straight lines to follow. Still, I can feel them, and they help guide me as I set my mind on the exit.

The power grows and grows until it can grow no more. It is here. Nearby. I can sense it.

I pause and look at the blood-like walls. They shift and fade and morph into flames. As with the blood, you could not step through it. There is resistance within. I had expected this, as the entire structure is fueled by magic.

There is nothing here hinting that I’ve reached the center. Only the same halls as everywhere else—turning, twisting, expanding. And yet, I know there has to be something.

As if to confirm it, the air blurs and shifts before me. Then a creature two times my size springs out of nowhere, rushing at me.

***

I jump to the side and lift my cane to ward it off. It seems as unimpressed as I am.

The thing’s skin is a writhing mass of maggots. Its massive head is a flayed lump of blood and bones, with small strips of flesh hanging loose. It sways at me, acid drool dripping from its putrid mouth.

I’ve seen its likes before. They are not pleasant things. Not too difficult to beat, however, as they lack intelligence. My only concern is that there may be more of them.

I take two steps away from it, and my back hits against the wall. The flames lick through my vest and kiss my flesh underneath. I swear as I move away, holding my cane pointed at the thing.

The creature roars and lunges again.

I step aside and swing down. The blade pops out of the bottom when I press on the skull, and it slices through the exposed back, tearing through flesh and worms.

It howls in pain. Turns. Rushes me.

Again, I skip and swing. It learns not from its mistake, repeating the same one over and over. Each time with the same result. I slash at it again and again, and soon it stumbles, reels, falls.

To be on the safe side, I drive the blade through the creature’s heart and watch as the maggots die with it.

I walk back to the spot where I had been when the guardian appeared, half expecting another one to come.

None does.

The blade now retracted, I use the cane to help me search the ground.

I find it there, buried under a thick layer of black earth. A small black mound—the size and shape of a mushroom. This is what holds it all together. All I need to do is pluck it out. Then everything around me will crumble.

My hand reaches for the core and pauses.

From the corner of my eye, I see shapes forming around me. Glittering, shifting, slowly coming into being.

More monsters?

No. This is something else entirely.

Gods.

They stare at me.

There are five of them.

Including two whom I know...

***

They stand around me—at the same time here and not here—, their faces somber.

The one named Capher nods.

“Count. With respect, we cannot allow you to do this.”

I quirk a brow as I lean on my cane. “You think you can stop me?”

They look at each other, then back at me.

“If you do this,” says Streful, “you will unleash—”

“Adru. I know.”

There is no surprise in their eyes. They are gods, after all, why would they be surprised? Well, gods in the eyes of humans—not in mine.

“Then,” says Capher, “why would you do this?”

“Because it is better than the alternative. I could find my way out, but then so would Adru. And he would be unleashed, as you say, but unto the realm of men.”

Again, they look at each other. I know they commune in this fashion.

“There is one thing,” says another I do not know, “we do not understand.” I am tempted to tell it there is more than one, but I refrain, curious to hear what it has to say. “How did you find yourself bound to the maze?”

“I did not find it, it found me.”

“You mean to say—”

“That I walked into it, yes.”

“From the realm of men?”

“Indeed.”

Again, they look at each other.

Streful speaks next. “That should not have happened.”

“There are others here, too. Not just I. Some humans, but creatures from different planes as well.”

This clearly troubles them.

“Adru must have found a way to manipulate the maze,” mutters another I do not know. “He must draw power from the core.”

As the god speaks, I understand. The prisoner used the maze’s own energies to extend its spread. He could not escape, but he could make it grow through the planes so that it would capture others and thus increase his chances of escape.

If any prisoner found the way out, his servants would be prompt to report it.

The one I know best, Capher, attempts to sway me.

“He cannot be allowed to roam free.”

“I agree. But this elaborate prison you designed is clearly not working. I must destroy it.”

“There is another way...”

I clench the skull, knuckles turning white. “No.”

The gods frown.

“Would you not hear—”

“No,” I say again.

Part of me knows I am being unreasonable. But this could be my only way out. And by that, I do not mean out of the maze, I mean out of my banishment. I could go home!

“This is not working,” I repeat. “Best destroy this device so you may create another.”

“It would take time. He would cause much damage before we were done.”

“That is not my problem.”

I cringe at the words, knowing this was how I would have spoken before, not now. It is the old me. The one who once ruled over the Gleaming. The one even these so-called gods once feared.

However, it is not who I am anymore. The humans have corrupted me... No. I must get that thought out of my head. Part of me wants to see it that way. But deep inside, I know it is untrue. This is not corruption. It is cleansing. The corruption was already there. Humans helped me see it for what it truly was. Helped me become a better person.

And yet, that side of me is still here. Witness the words that came out of my mouth just now.

The gods stare at me.

I sigh. “Fine. What is the other way?”

The heat from the burning walls does not bother me, but the light of the flickering flames creates dancing shadows on the ground.

Streful nods. “You must leave the maze and unlink it from the realm of men before Adru can follow you out.”

I frown. “I could do this, but it would not unlink it from the many other planes it is connected to.”

“It would not. However, it is less likely any of the others caught within would find the way out. At least, not before we find a solution.”

“So this is temporary?”

They all nod.

“Until we either find another way,” says Capher, “or we fix the flaw so he can no longer feed on the core.”

“What of the other prisoners?”

“They are not prisoners.”

“They are if they cannot find the way out.”

The gods look at each other.

“Once we have resolved this,” says the only one who has remained quiet until now, “we will help them find their way out.”

With a sigh, I nod. “Very well. I accept the terms.”

***

With the instructions they give me, I easily find the exit. I see a translucent servant following me, but I ignore him.

As soon as I step out, I turn and sever the magical bind that holds the maze anchored to the realm of men. I hear a cry of rage from within as the walls shimmer and fade.

Once again, I stand in the forest.

I look up and see the sky is finally as dark as it should be.

Frustration grips me. I came so close.

Why had I cared so much about Adru? What was he to me? Or those other gods? Their powers stretch beyond their own realm, and I know the prisoner could have wreaked significant havoc had he been freed. It is not the sort of thing I would have felt concerned about, once upon a time. And yet, now, it troubled me enough that I agreed to give up on my best and easiest way to return to the Gleaming.

All it would have taken would have been to pluck out that mushroom and squeeze it in my hands.

I sigh, turn, and start walking again.

What is done is done.

There is no point in rehashing the matter.

Sooner or later, I will find another way.

One that does not risk killing millions of souls...

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Did you miss Varushka’s previous adventures? No problem! You can read them here:

• The Delicate Art of Stealing Shadows

• By the Light of a Weeping Moon

• What Soul Have I?

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Text (c) 2023 by Alex S. Garcia.

Header: royalty-free stock images, edited by me.

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