The guardian of the dark maze

Yes/No (Even) Can Lux avoid the creature’s notice? | [1,1] No but...

She senses its approach in time to put up a fight

Nothing that Lux sees as she approaches the thorned archway serves to lessen the dread in the pit of her stomach. No light is visible within the tangled passageway ahead of her; if not for her plane-touched eyes, it would be impossible to see a thing. This is not a place made to welcome visitors. And yet this entryway stands open, unblocked – there has to be something that prevents its prisoner from simply walking away.

“Hey, Minn,” she says, pausing at the threshold, “I don’t suppose your skills as a guide include…finding your way back out of here?”

“You mean, just remembering all the turns we take?” Minn sounds confused. “Sure. Who couldn’t do that?”

“Well. Good.” Lux decides she’ll just have to hope that wasn’t overconfidence or sarcasm, because the closer she gets to this place, the more the word labyrinth springs to mind. Even if she had a ball of yarn to unravel, it might well run out before she finds the heart of the maze.

She wishes she had any other option, here. But there seems to be none. Taking a deep breath, she ventures within. Through the archway, and into the thorn-lined corridor beyond.

It’s not all that different from walking through the denser parts of the mist-shrouded woods, at first. Bare earth beneath her feet, the organic shapes of the vines all around, the muted whistling of distant wind through the gaps in the tangled mass. The path is comfortably wide enough for her to pass through without needing to worry about catching herself on the brambles that enclose it to either side – high enough for Minn to fly overhead, saying nothing for once. Yet the atmosphere weighs down on her, all the heavier for the quiet of it.

She tries to memorise the twists and bends of the passage – at least there aren’t a lot of branches in the path, so she thinks she can keep track as sticks to the right-hand turns. But with no landmarks to tell one junction from another, and no idea of where she’s even aiming to end up in these maze-like depths, the possibility of getting lost feels increasingly real...

“Lux,” Minn suddenly whispers, “something’s coming.”

Lux looks around sharply. The maze remains as still and lifeless as ever. “Where?” she hisses, holding her weapon at the ready.

“Near. I can feel it.” Minn’s voice is part fear, part excitement, anticipation.

Lux holds her breath and listens. At first, the thumping of her own heart and the rapid flutter of Minn’s wings are the loudest noises. It wouldn’t be the first time Minn tried to play a trick...

The tiniest sound reaches her ears. The crack of a thorn breaking, somewhere off to her left. A faint creak as the massed vines flex under the weight of…whatever’s moving in there –

Lux leaps back as a sudden movement breaks through the “wall” beside her – a long, sinuous black shape. Another snake, is her first thought – ? No, there’s no head, no mouth. Something else – a tendril – a pseudopod. But attached to what…?

It doesn’t take her long to get an answer. With a cracking of dead wood, it oozes out into the passageway – a formless glossy mass, flowing like viscous oil, its surface shimmering faintly in the gloom with an iridescent tinge of dark green. It hits the ground heavily, before rising up to fill the space around it – bigger than Lux, much bigger, and it’s moving – alive…

Lux blood runs cold at the sight. She’d hoped for a guard she might be able to reason with, or one that her only weapon would work on. But this…this thing – she almost feels she can sense what Minn did, its sheer malice radiating.

The shape of it shifts, more of those long pseudopods extending out, snaking sinuously to threaten Lux. It knows she’s here. It’s not happy about that.