According to James, mazes were an important part of the myths of the Old World. As they fantasized their escape from Technis’ prison, James had even explained several strategies to navigate them, although none of his suggestions seemed useful in her current situation. She didn’t have a ball of yarn or have anything small or breakable to scatter on the floor to create a trail – and she didn’t want anyone following her anyway. She also couldn’t stick to the right- or left-most wall to explore because the maze was arranged in three dimensions. All she could do was wander aimlessly, straining her senses for any sign of her objectors. It was what she’d been doing for the past hour, and given her results thus far, it was what she expected to keep doing for hours more.

This went from an adrenaline blasting danger to a test of focus and endurance pretty quickly. I wonder if they planned it this way.

Bel was currently passing through a narrow passage – the best option she had left after ending up in several dead ends. She could see light coming from farther along the path, and with it came the promise of a larger space and more options. Bel paused before the entrance, sniffing for lawlessness and listening for heartbeats.

She didn’t detect anything, so she cautiously ducked out of the tunnel and into a wide cavern. The ceiling glowed with a dim, yellow light, and the rocks on the ground were warm. Mist swirled up from the warm rocks, filling the space and limiting visibility. The oppressive humidity pressed down upon her like a yoke. Bel wondered how they had managed to create such unpleasant weather indoors.

Bel observed water dripping from the ceiling and realized that magma had been piped into the room before it was drenched to create an instant rocky surface. That had created the uneven flooring and the mist at the same time. “These guys really go all out, don’t they?”

Bel spun slowly, scanning the room and prodding the rocks with her feet. They were hot, but not dangerous.

The wide cavern had signs of life, just like her starting room. Small heartbeats at the edge of her perception zipped through the area, and there were a few pockets with louder activity. Bel peeked over a wide basin and saw a bowl-like depression filled with small fish. Insects scuttled along the rocks at the edge of the pool, still adjusting to their surroundings.

If one of my opponents needed to eat as often as Orseis, then providing food would be necessary, she supposed.

Bel turned and paused. She sniffed the air, picking out a faint whiff of lawlessness: crimes against nature. How Bel could tell that from a smell, she didn’t know. She snorted the abrasive scent from her nose and wandered past a few openings that dotted the cavern. She tested the air from each of them to see if any had a stronger scent before moving to the next one. After walking back and forth for a minute she was forced to admit that every option was the same amount of unpleasant.

“Things aren’t easy, are they?” she lamented.

She went back and looked down each exit, hoping to find a useful clue.

In terms of terrain, there were three cramped passages that went straight for a few steps before turning abruptly. The walls glowed dimly, but there were also areas of darkness. Those looked like good places for a trap, and weren’t at all where she wanted to wander.

The other two options were a steeply ascending incline in a well-lit tunnel and a narrow path along the edge of the cliff that overlooked a small artificial pond in a brightly-lit room. The view from the narrow path would be interesting, and Bel was curious to see if there were larger fish for the larger pond, but it would also leave her exposed to anyone who had brought a bow or sling. With no other information, Bel opted for the steeply inclined path instead.

As she ascended, the unpleasant odor of the challenger who had annoyed Kjar grew stronger. Bel also began to detect a growing number of small hearts darting along the dimly lit cavern walls. I wonder if they put any dangerous wildlife in here? Or is it all harmless, like the fish they poured into the pond?

Bel looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was tickling her heart sense. Although there was only one path for her to follow, the rapidly formed walls were shot through with cracks that formed as they cooled. Whatever creatures were surrounding her, they didn’t want to be caught out in the open.

She was about to continue on her way when she felt the heavy beating of a powerful heart, thudding with the anticipation of a stalking predator. Bel carefully managed her own racing heart, urging her snakes to remain calm as she intentionally turned away from the newcomer. The other heartbeat paused – probably as its owner spotted her – and then it moved towards her with incredible speed.

Bel scanned the area for any advantages, but it was the same mostly empty upwards slope, with a slight rightward curve. The ceiling was a few strides above her head, and the walls would be well behind her fingertips if she lifted both arms. Her unknown attacker’s heart was approaching too quickly for Bel to come up with a foolproof ambush, so she simply waited until the last moment before she turned her step into a back flip, launching herself to the ceiling.

As her body flipped upwards, she glanced back and saw the hairy-legged swordsman cut through her recently vacated spot. He wielded the longsword from his back and struck with his eyes closed, more worried about her gaze than his aim. She saw his stance as he prepared to swing his sword, and then she saw his stance afterwards. His attack had been so fast that it was invisible, and a shimmer was left in its wake, as though the air itself was disturbed by his sword’s speed.

A moment later she heard the sound of gust of wind, the first sound that the swordsman left. Even his hoofed feet had been silent upon the rocky ground.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

As Bel’s feet touched the ceiling, he opened his eyes and glanced into the flat of his blade, inspecting the area through its mirror surface. Bel tensed; she would have one chance to surprise him after his failed ambush. She used her sharpened nails to gouge a rock from the ceiling and kicked off, pouncing back towards him.

The sound of her movement alerted him, and a subtle tilt of his sword brought her into his view – but too late for him to do more than raise the flat of his blade to block her attack. Bel tried to push the blade aside by slamming through with Kjar’s invulnerable armor, but he resisted her momentum with his incredible physique. Instead, her ribs cracked and she wound up painfully curled around his sword. She didn’t let that dissuade her though. She slashed at his eyes with metal nails and kicked with her feet. He leaned away from her hand, but when her foot connected she sent a shockwave through her touch.

He grunted and stepped back and Bel wobbled from her precarious perch on his sword. The swordsman regained his footing in a step and then grunted with effort as he lifted his sword, launching Bel high into the air. She saw him twist his body and pull back his weapon as he prepared for another lightning fast strike.

Bel was flying away from him again, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t attack. She destabilized the rock that she had grabbed, kicked her legs to pivot in midair, and launched it straight at the swordsman’s face. Reliant as his sight was upon reflections, it took him a nearly fatal moment to see the projectile. He still managed to react at the last moment, moving his sword with the speed and precision of a hummingbird to intercept and cut through the rock.

Unfortunately for him, cutting through the rock didn’t stop it from exploding. Bel felt the heat of the blast even at her distance, but the moment her feet touched the ground she rushed back to the expanding cloud of shattered rock, desperate to capitalize upon her advantage.

Before she could reach him, the swordsman whipped his weapon through the air, creating a short-lived whirlwind that lifted and dispersed the cloud of dust. Bel grit her teeth and continued her charge; his weapon was high and he still refused to look at her, so there was a chance that she could land another blow. She couldn’t suppress the concern that the man was simply invulnerable. She’d hit him with a liquid shockwave and an explosion, but he didn’t seem phased. Luckily, he hadn’t revealed any devastating abilities yet – she need to keep him off-balance so things stayed that way.

Her footsteps made her approach obvious as her bare feet slapped against the rocks, but the man still avoided her gaze. The swordsman lifted his weapon to catch her reflection, but he froze when he saw that his blade had been blackened by Bel’s exploding rock. Bel’s look of surprise was almost as pronounced as his when he yielded to a basic impulse and cast a nervous glance in her direction. She wouldn’t have been more pleased if he had sent her a written invitation; she didn’t hesitate to hit him with a ten-fold overpowered glare.

His muscles tensed, a grimace of regret frozen on his face as he was momentarily paralyzed. Bel was going too fast to check her speed and was too busy glaring to prepare an attack, so she slammed into him like a runner hitting a tree. She didn’t let getting the wind knocked out of her lung slow her down, quickly slipping to his backside and kicking a leg against the back of his knee to send them both rolling to the ground.

He began to move then, her paralysis already wearing off, but Bel slipped her right arm under his sword arm and clenched her hand around his neck to restrain his weapon. With his sword arm pinned in place, she slipped her other hand to his waist and pulled one of his short swords free of its scabbard.

The man’s writhing and scrabbling in increased in vigor as he recovered, and he pitched his body, tossing Bel like a ship in a storm as his desperation gave him frantic strength. Her nails scrabbled for purchase on his neck, unable to break through his unexpectedly tough skin. Bel attempted to lock his legs, but despite her efforts the swordsman powered himself up to his knees, leaned up, and forced his sword arm down with an absurd amount of strength.

Bel gasped with pain as her arm was painfully forced out of its socket, but she focused her anguish on her violent stabbing against his midsection, finally drawing blood with the swordsman’s own weapon. He finally bucked her off with a shout of anger. Bel’s breath was knocked from her body as she was slapped into the ground, and she hissed in pain as she rolled over her injured shoulder.

She checked her momentum by stabbing the ground with her nails and looked up to see the swordsman pitching his tarnished long sword to the side and drawing his other short sword and dagger. He moved like an arrow; before Bel could blink, he was in front of her. His hoof crushed rock as he slammed it into the ground and pivoted, generating a powerful sword stroke aimed for her head.

For a moment, the world stood still as Bel realized that she was about to be cut in two. She had a flashback of the time she’d lost her eye and three of her snakes – but she wasn’t the same helpless gorgon now.

Bel channeled additional energy through liquid body as she leaned away from the inevitable, but the swordsman watched her in the reflection on his dagger, adjusting the course of his cut to slice through her throat and spine. Bel’s neck flowed like liquid around the sword, her preparation keeping her body fully viscous during his weapon’s impact. The blade was so fine and the angle so perfect that it passed through her with barely a ripple.

She took grim satisfaction as she saw his eyes widen in his reflection; then she stabbed her stolen sword up under his kilt, finally finding a soft entry point for the weapon.

The man gaped down at her as she rammed the sword into his body cavity. Then she ripped the weapon free and leaped away, not wanting to be anywhere near him for fear of any possible last-ditch or self-sacrificing attacks. He fell to his knees, flailing his weapons through the air helplessly. Bel didn’t relax until he collapsed into a deepening puddle of blood. She felt his heart grind to a halt as his last breath rattled from his throat.

Bel released a sigh of relief as the injuries and pains of the fight caught up to her. Her shoulder hurt, and she felt like she’d done something bad to her ankles. She rubbed her neck, finding a small amount of blood. Swallowing felt awkward and tight, but her head was moving properly.

One of her snakes hissed in surprise, and Bel leaped away in a panic. A dark chill travelling down her leg, followed by a searing pain. Bel destabilized her newly acquired sword and blindly threw it over her shoulder, acting on desperate instincts. She landed with a manageable amount of pain and spun to see her attacker.

The veiled man slowly coalesced from a heavy mist, blood dripping from the clawed knuckles on one of his hands.

Then the sword exploded. His form hadn’t finished solidifying, and the force of the blast ripped the veiled man’s ethereal body apart. Bel felt a wave of essence roll through her as her second adversary was instantly killed.

She released a shaky breath, and then a second one, before slowly collapsing to the ground.

She knew that she was still at risk, especially after the loud fighting, but her body needed a moment of rest to continue. She had nearly died. Not after a difficult contest of wills or a hard-fought battle, but because someone came out of nowhere and nearly gutted her before she realized what was happening.

She hadn’t survived due to skill or perseverance or anything like that, she had survived due to sheer dumb luck. Her body shook uncontrollably as that realization grew.