Deka felt the walls closing in around her just from seconds in the seat. Dark rock and foggy steel caging her, letting panic trickle through to steal her wits.

She despised them in seconds, felt that animosity grow with every passing moment. Surroundings far too sterile for her to bear. Far too cruel. Far too familiar.

Distraction was her onlyanswer, and she stared at the set of symbols etched into the surface before her. The entire room was made from a stone as close in colour to coal as slate, concave in shape and compressed in size. Only the mildly luminous symbols caught the eye, though she could somehow peer through the darkness elsewhere as well.

It was no accident, she knew. Anything that drew the eye would be a priority, and any priority was the only place she could afford to leave her focus.

The familiar mental ice threatened to creep through her as she studied the etchings, fear and worry breaking away as Deka’s thoughts attained a new, arctic stability. It felt all too similar to the state she’d left her last task in. Reluctantly, she let the mood remain.

Deka recognised the sigils quickly, an arcane language spoken by the pagans of Unix long before the Paradisan Invasion. Studying them brought few ideas to her, yet a single touch changed everything. Forming a bridge between the mechanism and her mind.

It took an instant for the knowledge to reach her. Basic and simple as anything she’d ever received, yet fascinating all the same.

Washing the surface with her gaze, Deka felt a smile take her at the realisation that she knew every little thing about its workings.

She hadn’t known Manamis could do that at all.

Dismissing her awe for later, Deka touched a pair of runes. She felt the expected mental pressure, surprised in spite of her miraculous knowledge, and began rotating her digits as if she were tightening knuts about a great machine.

Her mind seemed dragged along by wire, quickly finding resistance as it met another presence. She forced herself steady at the sensation before speaking aloud.

“Hello? Who am I talking to?”

Swearing turned the air blue for moments before Deka recognised the voice.

“Astra? It’s me, Deka. I’m speaking to you through some… Sieve mechanism.”

Deka saw the black stone before her shift as she said it. Knew already what to expect from the knowledge granted by her new nest.

“Hold that thought.” She pressed urgently, severing contact as she focused on the screen.

***

Crow had started jogging somewhere along his journey through the stony forest.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

The breastplate made his movements awkward, but he persisted. Worry and fear compelled him, paranoid certainty that his back faced a sneaking enemy driving him to ever greater paces. Careful eyes searching for one he might ambush himself.

He knew that Rajah’s team, save the boy himself, would be unable to seriously wound him with any one attack. The armour he wore changed things entirely. It was no more resilient for Crow’s magic, no more immune to damage than those of his enemies.

For all he knew, a single strike could spell defeat.

Every pasing moment was occupied by thoughts of the task. Thoughts of the Sieve. Thoughts of his victory, and the credits he’d still need to grow anywhere near a true one. It was strength against weakness, heat against cold.

Yet so too was it a burden more crushing than any blow he’d faced, placing the world on his shoulders and quicksand beneath his feet.

Reality gave solid ground underfoot, at least. The hard stone making up every inch of the maze proved unyielding, even as he ran across it with magic behind his sprint. It was the only positive he could find for the surroundings.

Crow had been certain for minutes that he was in a maze, yet the more he moved through it, the more he wondered whether it might be closer to a labrinth.

Its walls protruded a half dozen yards upward without fail, corridors stretching five times that length or more. Wide enough for ten men to stand shoulder to shoulder, empty enough that the very space around him was a crushing grip about Crow’s chest.

There were no details on the carved rock that might give a section of maze character or identity. No cracks, markings, writings or symbols by which he could judge location.

Just cold, unblemished stone stretching endlessly upwards and outwards.

He found terror in the monotony, realising that it was impossible for him to be sure which way he’d turned, or whether any progress had come at all.

Fear came, inevitably. Weasling its way into Crow’s resolve and feasting on the tincture of anxiety and uncertainty. The parasite grew fat on its meal, bloating by the moment until he could almost feel a weight from its presence.

Crow ran onwards, not knowing what else he might do. Still his legs seemed to weaken.

He almost leapt from his skin when a voice rang out through his mind.

“Who am I talking to? This is Deka, don’t be alarmed.”

The last words of her introduction barely registered to Crow through the sound of his own startled yelp.

“Sorry.” He said, whispering suddenly as his face burned. All too aware that he may already have alerted an enemy to his location. Deka’s answer was no less calm than her greeting.

“Okay Crow, we don’t have long so I’m going to talk fast.”

True to her word, she did. It took Deka perhaps a minute to convey the broadstrokes; that she’d seen only a single still image of his position, along with the rest of the contestants on both teams. That it was up to her to use memory and deduction to calculate where her teammates were from there.

That she’d not be able to see them with her own eye again.

“Do you understand what that means?” She asked.

Crow did, stomach sinking as he mulled it over.

“It means I need to keep track of where I turn.”

“Yes, start by going left at the end of this corridor, then left again, right once and then left a final time. If I haven’t brought you more instructions by then, wait until I speak to you again.”

Crow felt the emptiness of Deka severing their connection before he could ask where she was guiding him, cursing under his breath and continuing his run. It seemed the only option he had.