Novels2Search

1.49

The room was ...mundane. Between the stone smooth wall, some dirt bunched up on the corners, and little water seeping here and there, the long winding hallway was a far contrast from the honest to god, forty meters high waterfall outside. Which at the first glance was ...disappointing? The way the grand elder worded their deal sounded that what lay behold this hallway was a secret most great — bastion that would guard them against the fate most dire. Thus it was beyond him to which why was the hallway looked so ...mediocre.

The minutes had passed the thirty seven marks since that question and now, his breath heaving, his knee screaming, he knew why.

Because it of course, not.

“This way, human Euca, stonefriend Clar.”

“Yes, Lady *huft* ...Crystal,” he said, splashing another round of water to his calves. Not that it helped. The water quench was at most distracting. And after a while, sticky. But between that and five seconds relieves from his muscle continuous throbbing, the not-now consequence was not something the now-Euca cared about.

The hell had been going on for a while. At first, he thought that they would just, you knew, a bit of walking — three minutes in a dim-lit corridor. That kind of thing. And because this world was magic, instead of a safe door made of titanium alloy and CCTV recording their every move, the room would be protected by he didn’t know, some kind over the top enchantment rune? Lightning blast to the face, fireball to the knee, and bear’s traps scattered, invisible and ready to snap any unwitting intruders. Standard stuff.

Instead what he found was the most infuriating maze he ever walked. Granted, he didn’t walk that many mazes, two if he counted that trip to the Revesia. And there was a good argument to be made on how all the groceries basically a maze by design. But even those customers’ mousetrap wanted you to get out at some point. After they fleeced you dry first, of course.

What he meant was, well, instead of the buggy-friendly aisles and associate offering you samples, this place had the most non-welcoming thing ever thought to be incorporated in a maze — an atrocious terrain. And he was being generous. The terrain here was either three-degree slope that their stamina drain only noticeable by the way his feet screaming why the road kept going up and up for the consecutive five minutes or — or it was as classless, f-you in the face, sharp forty-five-degree drop on a very, very slippery floor.

Then there was the lighting, oh... the lighting. It alternated between complete darkness and a lightbulb to your face. To his face.

And while the first (supposedly) had a good reason behind it (he guessed was to hide the true depth of this whatever place so the supposed intruder could not easily pinpoint the exact location), the second was more ...sinister. Like right now, in the very bright yellow lighted room, the contrasting lux between all the sequential torture chambers managed to hide the fact that the wall on the left had a slight protrusion that sported a rug-made banner. And the only reason that he noticed it was well, Lady Crystal was stopping. Otherwise, the thirty centimeters difference in the z-axis would not be something he would have ever seen.

What would he gave for sunglasses right now.

Unbelievable, he clicked his tongue, hugging Clar’s shoulder for comfort. Normal people. Yes, normal people would have thought that the almost unseen rug was the answer. That it was some kind of a mark. And surprisingly they were right. Except…, well, except the path didn’t exactly lay behind the weaved rug, no. There was a path hidden behind it, yes. And it was also traversable, yes. But that path? That path was a false one — a decoy. He only nodded stupidly when three rugs ago, the crystal lifeform lady said that the decoy path contained a looping that would instead bring them to the many, many previous winding hallways on many, many arbitrary locations. Good luck with that, hypothetical intruders! Besides had to traverse the damn maze all over again, those hallways basically indiscernible from one another.

So where was the correct path, you might ask? Well as he was witnessing now, the correct path was a path that would be activated by something so arbitrary and so stupid that no any mystery-book lover thought it should be legal. Loose stone hiding a secret key on the wall? Nah. A torch that could be pulled to reveal a rotating door? What?! Did you think the sprites were philistines? Of course, not! Look and beheld! The most advanced, most intricate, secret-keeping that escapes everyone’s eyes. Drum roll to ...kicking pebbles. Yes. Kicking pebbles. The hidden pathway was activated by kicking the most ordinary, greyest pebbles he had ever seen in a north-north-west order. Or was it north-north-northwest? Like he cared. It was so gobsmacking, so infuriating he didn’t even jot it down for a secret ‘I know how to traverse your maze’ surprise reveal, later.

Also, unlike the other illusion that had the dignity to throw some flair of at least a spark of light, the activation of the hidden path here didn’t even make a slight rumble. Instead what it had was a shaking of mana so small, you’d be forgiven to mistake it as a wind blowing.

“Of course…”

He meant what else could he hope? Did he say that previous hidden path required the crystal lady to do a mangled hopscotch on one of the nondescript puddles?

Had he said that?

He remembered holding his hand from smacking his face so tight, it turned white when she wiped the mud on her floating platform with a finger water jet like hidden path hopscotch was the most normal thing to do.

Yeah...

Blowing his itching breath, he hastened his step. Chasing Clar who already sprinted after her passing through a now hollow wall that still much looked like a solid wall. The opening was just around ten to twelve seconds. And having his ankle trapped by a foam turned solid concrete was not something he cared to re-experience.

Led by a soft blue of will-o-wisp at the front, they continued their walk. The long winding hallway was still long as now a green neon, disco-style lighting light their way.

“Fireball doesn’t sound that bad...”

[https://i.ibb.co/kHLk3wt/Line-Break.png]

“Are—are we there yet?” he asked. Cringing, as he regurgitated the typical 9-years old’s question when their parents brought them somewhere for the weekend. Sorry, brought them anywhere for the weekend.

“Negative, human Euca.” the woman said, looking back. “Do you require a rest?”

“Of course I do...” he said, forcing a smile. “Lady Crystal…”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Acknowledged, we shall rest.” she nodded, flashing her eyes and summoning the couch once again.

“Lord...” he plopped down his bottom, feeling the bounce of the couch. He started to feel regret about the deal right now. God, if this what he needed to endure every time, he rather — he rather — no, he rather be ...informed in advance. Sigh, he couldn’t even cuss-thinking.

“Are you okay, Master?” Clar said, the girl was a bit flushed, but otherwise fine. Unlike his supposed master. Shaking his head, he decided to ignore his physical inferiority, that — that just given. He was a mage/alchemist. Not a what? A stonefriend? What a weird term. If he wasn’t mistaken, Clar’s race supposed to be a high human. Sure she was earth-aligned. But why the sprites called him stonefriend?

Well, there was no use to think it right now, “Yeah… I’m okay. Water?” he offered a waterskin to her.

“No, Master needs it more.”

“It’s okay, I got ten more bottles. Here, drink it. Also” —he pulled a broken half-sourdough, splitting it again into quarters— “eat this. We don’t know where this damn maze would end...”

“...no offense to you, Lady Crystal,” he added, munching the bread.

“Honest opinion was never an offense, human Euca. Although to answer your query, our destination is just on the end of this hallway.”

“Ah, right… the end of ‘the hallway’.” he nodded, drinking another gulp of water. “Like how the rest of this maze is a hallway right?” he so tired his mouth quipped before the good sense could rein it in.

“No, human Euca. The end of this hallway as the end of the door over there.” she pointed to the solid wall that just around four meters in front.

“...”

“What??”

[https://i.ibb.co/kHLk3wt/Line-Break.png]

He decided to rest anyway, savoring the sourdough, drinking the water, making sure Clar ate her share, taking a fifteen minutes nap, you knew, all the normal human thing you did while enduring a freaking cringe.

It wasn’t if he resting here would move the door to another place right?

“Actually it would.”

“Huh?”

“The walls here are enchanted to shuffle the innermost chamber location every three bells with two to seven wicks variation depending on whether on a certain breath, a drop or two drops dripped on the center gem. Based on recorded data, there was 43 out of 100 chance that the door would move in the next half wick, 51 out of 100 in the half wick, and 78 out of 100 by the end of the bell—”

“All right. Come, Clar...”

“ —92 out of 100 by the end of the second bell. ...Are you done with your rest, human Euca?”

“No…” he rolled his eyes, biting the sarcastic ‘of course, not’ and instead chose the more ‘neutral’ resignation. “Just — just let this get over with, Lady Crystal.”

“Acknowledged.”

With the same flick, all the furniture around them collapsed back into water as the crystal lady turned and floated toward the solid wall. He as usual marched behind Clar with the will-o-wisp beside them lighting the way. So this was it, right? The end of this stupid maze.

“Right this way.”

He followed her. As usual, the wall was hollow. Mostly. This time however there was a slight push, a slight back, but it was more akin to passing a jelly — a pudding.

A bright light.

“Wow…”

A carpet green; grass growing lush as if all the seasons in year were summer and flowers of all color that swayed, even in the absence of any draft.

Lay in the center was a microcosm of the park itself; a pond enraptured inside a green stretch, a mound that was the island, and the jewel, studded as a small tree.

Its bark was wiry and cracking ashen, its boughs and branches were wide, spreading one meter to both sides. And the weird thing was, the tree wasn’t young... Even a glance could tell that it had age. Like an ...old oak. A bonsai-ed version of an old oak that just a bit over Clar’s head with leaves and twigs myriad as the grain of sand on the ocean.

Yet. that morphological dissonance was not what grabbed his attention. Instead, it was the little lights. Tiny, sparkling, and numerous, they swung on the branches, hanging from the twigs’ end, and burrowed under its short mound. He crouched down, looking, really looking to them — the little sprites. If the twin were his palm length, these little things were at most at the size of the tip of his fingernail. They were playing around. Making merry. He saw one that was swimming, other was throwing bubbles at each other. Some were just sleeping; smiling and content.

“What—”

“—one of our proffered branches, human Euca.”

“I—I mean I know we agreed to this but,”—he looked at their happy faces and felt uncertainty grasped him—“I need to ask again. Are you sure? Like sure this would work?”

“Yes.”

“...okay. Okay... Well, here I go.”

He rummaged his slung haversack. The brown canvas bag had been returned to him a while ago on his insistence. From there he pulled the bottle, showing it for the last confirmation toward the observing crystal lady — she nodded. Then he nodded. Then Clar nodded. Then he nodded again just for good measure.

Inhaling one last breath, he gingerly, slowly, and with utmost care pulled the silver-lined cork.

Pop.

He smiled and bowed to the little sprites, smiling as he approached a patch of roots where the sprites were rather sparse. Crouching down, he tilted the glass, looking as the water escaped it eclipsed mouth trickle by trickle by trickle.

Stir.

Sudden silence.

The content still hallway, he saw the little sprites around him stopped, gaped. Staring wide eyes and rooted on the spots. One of the braver ones even ran, trying to catch few sprinkles that strayed off the root end. But before she could reach it, a cold air hit like a hammer. Stopping the little guy on his track.

“Ha ha ha…” he laughed, sweating bullets. That must be Lady Crystal preventing the now pouting sprites from taking the water from the tree. God, that scary. “Maybe next time, little guy,” he said, smiling as he continued to pour the last remain of the mana-aspected water.

And once he was done, the effect was almost instantaneous. The clear water, the manabright, melded — sucked from the root tips. He saw it in sense, how the tree, eagers, was pumping all the water as fast as possible, pushing the water to climb its trunk and reached its leaves. The uppermost leaves, where the lush green quilt hid those that had yellowed in their edges, the ones that withering seemed to be just a matter of time.

The moment those leaves touch the mana-aspected water, he could see it with his naked eyes how they were ...greening — revitalized. Not much, maybe from 20 % yellow to 16-17 % yellow, but the changes, the changes it was so apparent.

“It succeeds!”

“And thus it recorded. Thank you human Euca. No. Humanfriend Euca. You had saved this branch and the line of our devlin. The water owed you.”

“No ne— I mean, you’re welcome.” he said, swallowing the ‘no need’. Right, he needed to remember that southern politeness was not the right thing here. The dance of face was something this honest folk didn’t want. “So do you think — I mean how many of the siren’s tears do you think you would need?“

“As much, as much as you could, humanfriend Euca. But at least ten of your bottles, filled to the brim before the sunburst.”

“Okay, I’ll — I’ll try. Like I said, I can’t promise you, but — but I’ll try.” His mind racing, calculating the ideal number of the mana-aspected water he could give while still maintaining a semblance of scarcity. Since the sunburst in one month. Which was twenty eight days. Then calculating total of his erlenmeyers and beakers he had in his person, the optimized dwell time, and the expected error rate if he started this night, no, next night, he could produce eight, ten, ...fourteen bottles. And that was half-capacity. Okay, let gave her eleven just — no, better gave her twelve. Indicating that he tried his best but the item was still pretty rare. “And that all we ask, humanfriend Euca.” she smiled. Looking upward.

“The daylight would pass soon enough. Shall we head up then?”