Another winter passes, and spring of 732 dawns in Tempest Domain. Insofar as anything can be said to ‘dawn’ in a world without an actual sun that goes up and down.

Daisy turns thirteen in January, and keeps stressing out over the fact that she hasn’t reached Elite rank yet and isn’t sure whether it’s even attainable. To cheer her up and give her an opportunity to improve some skills and get some Deeds, our family decides to send us on a camping trip in April.

“It’ll be fun!” Mom says. “A great opportunity! Your mom has given me permission to escort you through some dungeons that don’t involve any real fighting. There’s Deeds in it for you for every completed dungeon, and every Deed helps toward your rank. Plus we can get your skills up! I know you haven’t had much chance to train [Survival] yet.”

Daisy grumbles, “I don’t want to train [Survival]. I want to be a Wizard.”

“Too bad,” says Aunt Magnolia (and I actually know her name now). “You’ve done nothing but tear your head out studying all the time since your sister went back to school.”

“Because I get bonuses to learning from books!” Daisy protests. “Not by pitching tents and picking mushrooms!”

“I’m sure you had to have read some books about camping and mushroom identification,” Mom says. “Either way, now’s a good time to revise. We leave on Friday.”

Uncle Hawk, the [Ranger], is coming along with us. He’s bringing a harness to carry me whenever my Stamina meter gets too low to keep up with the group. Aunt Dahlia has even made a pair of little hiking boots just for me. Also accompanying us is an 18-year-old cousin named Meadow. She’s a Basic-rank [Apprentice Ranger] who is hoping to make Elite before she turns 21. We call ‘Uncle Hawk’ uncle even though he’s more of a second cousin once or twice removed, but he’s Meadow’s mom’s brother so he’s more directly her uncle.

We set off past the apple orchards and pass through the festival grounds, currently littered with the remnants from this year’s spring festival that haven’t been fully cleaned up yet. Dirt roads crisscross the terrain in every direction, and I would certainly get lost out here without Uncle Hawk’s directions. Burdock’s monster kitten marches at his side, her four ears moving independently to catch every sound around us.

When the skymotes are green, we take a break to rest and have lunch in a clearing by the side of the road. Underneath the pine trees, several red-capped mushrooms of different sizes have spouted merrily.

“Look, mushrooms!” Burdock says, grabbing one and holding it aloft in one swift motion.

“Don’t eat that!” Daisy snaps, slapping the mushroom out of Burdock’s hand. “That’s emetic russula.”

“What’s… emetric brussula mean?”

“It means ‘if you eat this, you will throw up’,” Daisy says.

“Oh,” Burdock says sheepishly.

Turns out Daisy took up most of her carry weight with a huge, illustrated guide to plants and fungi, like any sensible [Scholarly Child]. She reluctantly lets Burdock read it, after wiping off his hands thoroughly first. I peek over his shoulder to take a look myself. The pictures look almost like photographs, and little icons indicate how toxic something is.

“Alright kids, pack up,” Uncle Hawk says. “We’ve still got a lot of walking to do before dark.”

We reach the first dungeon we’re planning on exploring when the skymotes are orange. The entrance is comprised of a wrough iron gate set into an ivy-covered stone wall. Zenith shines orange down upon us from the northwest like a weird flat moon.

You have discovered the Hedge Maze. Skill acquired: Survival (Hiking) Your Max Stamina has increased by 1 and is now 5.

My efforts are already paying off, and it only took me a full day of trudging across slightly rugged terrain. Every additional point of Stamina is definitely welcome.

“Here we are,” Uncle Hawk says. “The Hedge Maze. Let’s make camp about a hundred meters from the entrance. In the morning, I’ll keep watch outside and you kids can do a run, maybe more than one if you can complete it fast. That’ll depend on how good you kids are at puzzles and riddles.”

We pitch a tent. By which I mean Daisy and Burdock try to pitch a tent while my mom supervises. Uncle Hawk takes Meadow out to scout the area and make sure there’s nothing dangerous nearby. I’m tasked with finding firewood.

Skill acquired: Search (Firewood)

Not that sort of skill I was hoping to unlock from this excursion, but I’ll take it. I’m told every subskill helps the general skill, so I guess the more things I know how to search for, the better I get at searching in general.

Once Uncle Hawk and Meadow return, the tent is still not up, so the two of them help. After the disastrous attempt at pitching a tent, now Daisy and Burdock are trying to light a camp fire while Meadow watches on trying to give them pointers.

“Meadow, can’t you or Uncle Hawk do this?” Burdock grouses, throwing a twig at the pile of firewood in frustration. “Or Anise? Anise can just magic up a fire. Why do we need to do this?”

“Sure, we could light it,” Meadow says. “But that wouldn’t earn you a Survival (Fire Making) skill. Don’t worry. I’ll help if you can’t get it lit before the skymotes turn dark.”

…

The fire is smoldering low and only a few of the skymotes have turned azure yet when Uncle Hawk wakes us for breakfast. Daisy whines the loudest about having to get up early.

“At Crux Academy, classes don’t even start until green,” Daisy says.

“Well, you’re not at Crux Academy,” Uncle Hawk says. “You’re in the real world, and the spring sky is plenty bright enough to navigate an easy dungeon by even at night. You should be glad you got the chance to sleep first.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Once we’ve got some food in us, Mom opens the gate and we file into the dungeon. Uncle Hawk waves at us before turning his attention to the wilds outside.

The Hedge Maze is beautiful, full of greenery and blooming flowers, and we spend some time wandering around its shifting pathways trying to get our bearings. The fragrant blooms and plants mingle in the air with the scent of earth, and a crisp, clean spring breeze tickles my nose and summons a sneeze.

“I’ve been here before, but it’s different every time, so I can only help with generalities,” Mom says. “And in setting fire to anything that needs fire set to it, if fire proves necessary. Hopefully, fire will not prove necessary.”

“Me too, minus the fire,” Meadow says. “I think everyone over the age of seven must have done an easy dungeon a day’s walk from home before.”

“I haven’t…” Daisy whinges.

Meadow chuckles. “Everyone who touches grass every now and then, at least.”

Daisy sticks her tongue out at her like a perfectly mature thirteen-year-old.

“There’s lots of puzzles in here for you to solve, at any rate,” Mom says. “That’s why we picked this dungeon to start off with. You’re smart. Get to solving.”

We’ve arrived at a circular cobblestone platform in the midst of hedges, with each stone bearing different markings. Daisy immediately stops complaining and gets to examining the platform intently. Burdock and I also take a look, but Daisy has it figured out before we’re even sure exactly what it is we’re looking at. She hops across the platform, careful to only step on certain stones, and reaches the middle. A small chest slides out of the platform, and she loots it to reveal a handful of shiny copper coins and an apple.

“This is such a lame reward,” Daisy says, tossing the apple at Burdock.

“Can’t expect Legendary rewards out of Basic puzzles,” Mom says with a chuckle.

We continue on, slowly making our way toward the center of the maze. Mipsy’s four ears satellite around, and she suddenly tenses.

“Mipsy, do you hear something?” Burdock asks.

We stop for a moment, trying to hear what the monster kitten might be hearing, but nothing happens so we move on warily.

After a couple more puzzles, we come upon a hollow log sticking out from under one of the hedges. It’s a tight squeeze, and only Mipsy and I are likely to fit.

“Dungeons often tailor challenges to whoever enters them,” Mom says. “I bet that one was put here for you, Drake. Go on, see what’s inside. There might be a secret area with more treasure.”

“And hopefully isn’t just apples,” Daisy adds.

Mipsy, already poking her head inside, needs no encouragement from her master to go exploring the hidden space. I squeeze in after the tabby tail and worm my way through the log, hoping that this dungeon really is as benign as Mom and Uncle Hawk insist.

Once through the log, I emerge into a sheltered little nook amid the hedges. Azure light from high above filters through the low canopy. Another small chest sits on the ground, and I open it to reveal my own handful of copper coins and a long, thin bit of metal with a handle and a kink on the end. I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be a lockpick. I pocket my rewards and give another look around the nook to make sure I haven’t missed anything before turning back toward the log.

Mipsy’s hackles are raised, and her four ears are all arrayed toward the log. There’s sounds from the other side of the hedge. What in the world is going on out there? I can’t even see through the green vis of the hedge to use [Clairvoyance] on whatever might be going on outside. I stay quiet and perfectly still until the sounds stop before going to crawl out of the log again.

Mom, Burdock, and Daisy are gone. The grass is trampled, and it looks like something might have been dragged through the mud. I carefully examine the ground, and find footprints. Humanoid, barefoot, child-sized and with unusually long toes with claws on the end. I also find a couple of discarded darts in the bushes. I’m not going to prick myself with one just to see what happens, but I can only guess my party was ambushed and knocked out before they could react, otherwise my mom would have set something on fire here.

I suppose it was complacent of us to think that just because there weren’t any monsters in this dungeon normally, that there was no danger at all. Maybe this dungeon decided to spawn some monsters after all, or maybe someone came in from outside, but that would mean they’d have to cast past Uncle Hawk. I can’t imagine why someone would have wanted to kidnap my family members, but it’s not like I know a lot about the political situation of Tempest or the position of Corwen in it. The nearby Hearths seem friendly enough, but I’ve been pretty sheltered all things considered. If there are enemies who would like to see Corwen Hearth razed to the ground, I don’t know who they might be.

I’m not going to track down and rescue them all by myself. I need to get out of this dungeon and find Uncle Hawk.

Moving quietly and keeping one eye on the position of Mipsy’s ears in case she hears something, I make my way toward where I think the entrance to the maze was. The disturbed ground and tracks end abruptly at a hedge that I’m pretty sure was in a different position before. Cursing inwardly, I meander around trying to find another way through. Mipsy stays close at my side on high alert.

I come upon another puzzle, this one involving several mirrors positioned around a clearing. Now this is something I can handle. I have played so many games with light beam puzzles. The mirrors move smoothly even for someone as small as me. I set to work and soon enough get them positioned so that the green light from Zenith overhead gets redirected around corners and through holes in the hedge to a receiving crystal. Once that final crystal lights up, a wrought iron gate leading into the center of the maze opens up.

Skill acquired: Mechanics (Mirrors)

With no sign of anything immediately hostile nearby, I head in to claim my prize.

A larger, fancier chest awaits me on a dais at the far end of the clearing. But standing in front of it is a gnarled tree with a red aura indicating a monster and not just a plant. It seems the dungeon wants one more challenge out of me, but it better not be expecting me to fight a treant.

“Hmm, hmm,” rumbles the tree in a deep masculine voice. “Two very small challengers this time. Come closer. Do not fear. You will not be harmed. Should you fail my challenge, you will merely be expelled from the dungeon without your rewards.”

Oh good. It’s a talky tree. I can deal with talky trees.

“Can you tell me what happened to the rest of my party?” I ask, toddling forward.

“I have not seen anyone else today,” the tree says, gesturing with a knotty limb as if to indicate that he’s kind of rooted in this spot.

“I guess I’ll need to look for them once I get out of here, pass or fail,” I say. “What’s your challenge?”

“Hmm, a riddle, small human, merely a riddle,” the tree says. “Listen carefully and tell me the answer.” He pauses dramatically and shifts his branches. “It is a very strange thing that my dungeon has told me. I do not understand it myself. But hopefully you do.”

“What’s the riddle?” I ask.

“Twinkling guides shone in the night, billions of years to burn their light. The shape of a leaf in gold marks a great deed to be told.”

“Stars,” I say immediately.

“Hmm, hmm, stars,” the tree says slowly. “Your answer is correct. I know not what connection there might be between golden leaves and ancient guides, but you do. Claim your prize, challenger. Well done.”

Congratulations! You have completed the Hedge Maze.

I go up and open the chest. Inside lies two silver coins and a golden star-shaped amulet. Is this a genuine magic item? I pocket the coins and put the amulet around my neck because I figure the chances of it helping somehow are higher than the chances of the dungeon suddenly deciding to be a jerk and give me cursed treasure. If it wants to screw me over, all it needs to do is not let me out of here, after all.

Another gate has opened, and the tree says, “Go in peace, challenger. I hope you find your friends.”