The group sat around the magical lamp, its pale, steady glow casting elongated shadows across the uneven stone walls. Emma and Maverick perched atop a large, flat rock near the edge of the dungeon room, slightly removed from the others, the quiet between them as dense as the heavy air of the dungeon.
Gulam was the first to break the silence, his voice steady yet reflective. “I’ll go first,” he said, leaning forward. “As I explored the dungeon, I noticed arrow carvings etched into the walls. They guided me through different rooms, always pointing in a specific direction. That’s how I found the two of you.”
Emma frowned, her thoughts racing. She had been watching the walls closely during their journey, yet she hadn’t seen any carvings. Her train of thought was interrupted as Maverick spoke, his tone as calm and measured as always. “The paths we took also had arrow markings,” he said, his eyes fixed on the lamp. “They pointed us forward.”
Before he could continue, Emma cut in, her curiosity piqued. “But how come I didn’t see them?” she asked, leaning forward. “I was watching the walls the whole time.”
Maverick turned his gaze toward her, his expression unreadable, as usual. “It’s because the arrows are designed to be seen by someone who doesn’t think in... conventional ways,” he replied.
Emma felt her temper flare for a moment, but she quickly suppressed it, reminding herself that Maverick likely didn’t remember the countless loops and solutions she had endured alone. Instead, she nodded in agreement. “You’re right,” she said evenly, her tone giving no hint of her internal frustration.
Satisfied, Maverick turned back to Gulam and continued. “The markings eventually led us to the wreckage of the royal carriage. I suspect they would have guided you there as well.”
Gulam fell into deep thought, his brow furrowed. “What does that mean?” he asked aloud, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“It may mean that the key to leaving this dungeon lies in that room,” Maverick suggested. His words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
Prince Meron, who had been observing quietly, finally spoke. His orange eyes gleamed in the dim light as he addressed the group. “If these carvings truly lead to the room where the carriage is, then we face another problem. The dungeon reshuffles itself every six thousand ticks... that’s about an hour or so here. How do we find the same path again before it shifts?”
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Gulam and Maverick exchanged glances, the weight of Meron’s observation settling over them. Neither had calculated the precise interval of the reshuffles, and it was clear the realization complicated their plans.
Emma folded her arms, her mind racing. She, too, had noticed the dungeon’s shifting nature but hadn’t thought to measure its timing. Her gaze shifted briefly to Gulam. It made sense now why he had lost the others in the first place. If the dungeon was reshuffling constantly, he had likely been redirected until fate.. or perhaps something else had brought him back to the group.
She looked to Meron and asked, “How many ticks are left before the next reshuffle?”
Meron paused, mentally calculating. “Three thousand eight hundred and forty,” he replied.
Emma nodded. “We need to be ready to leave at the start of the next reshuffle,” she said, her voice firm.
Gulam inclined his head in agreement, his eyes steady as they met hers.
As the discussion continued, Emma rose from her seat and excused herself. She needed a moment to think, away from the weight of their planning. Leaving the magical egg with Princess Rissane who accepted it with an almost childlike eagerness... Emma made her way to the dungeon’s entrance.
The narrow hallway was dimly lit by bioluminescent moss, the pale green glow barely enough to light her path. She stopped at the wall ahead, her eyes scanning the jagged surface for the elusive arrow carvings Gulam and Maverick had mentioned. At first, she saw nothing, just the same rough, irregular patterns she’d seen throughout the dungeon.
Frustration built as she let out a slow breath. “Think differently,” she whispered to herself, echoing Maverick’s earlier words. If the arrows weren’t visible to the “normal thinker,” then perhaps she needed to shift her perspective.
She tilted her head, letting her gaze travel across the wall’s uneven surface. Her eyes narrowed as she thought, If the arrows shift with the dungeon, then perhaps they change position, or even form.. in ways that aren’t immediately obvious.
Slowly, her gaze moved upward. Faint, nearly imperceptible markings began to emerge. What first appeared to be a simple decorative line took on a distinct shape: a stylized arrow, its form subtle yet deliberate. It wasn’t an arrow in the traditional sense but a series of interconnected lines that, when viewed with the right mindset, pointed unmistakably in one direction.
Emma felt a small surge of triumph. She muttered under her breath, as if addressing Maverick in his absence, “Now who’s the normal thinker?”
Her moment of victory was interrupted by a soft voice behind her.
“Emma, what are you doing?”
She turned to see Princess Rissane standing a few feet away, the magical egg cradled carefully in her hands. The princess’s curious gaze flicked between Emma and the wall she had been studying.
Emma opened her mouth to answer.