To the heart of the maze

It takes all of Lux’s effort to put one foot in front of the other, to keep pace with Minn’s guiding light. The need for that light to stay in view is what keeps her going – panic rises in her at the thought of losing sight of it, of being alone here. All around, twisting in its barbed cruelty, the maze feels darker than ever before. Maybe it really is darker – the deeper they go, the further they are from the unseen sun.

She looks down at her swollen belly, willing the offspring within to stop squirming, to stop growing. Without experience, it looks and feels as big as if she were nine months along – if not bigger. There can’t be much time left. She has to keep going…

Even the strength of desperation has its limits, though. Finally, too weak to continue, Lux staggers to a halt, putting a hand to the small of her aching back. She squeezes her eyes shut, clenches her jaw, trying to block out the pain, her face wet with silent tears.

“Lux, don’t stop.” Minn’s voice is pleading. “You can’t stop. We’re nearly there.”

“I can’t do it, Minn.” Lux forces the words out through gritted teeth. “Just – just go. Tell Willow…”

Tell her what? “I’m sorry”? “I love you”? “Go fuck yourself”? Lux doesn’t know anymore. The monster’s domination over her feels so complete, taking her body away from her, turning her into nothing more than an incubator. Maybe it’s right that she should just lie down and accept her utter defeat.

“You can do it, Lux. You have to do it.” Lux feels Minn’s hand grab hers – well, her finger, again trying with every ounce of tiny sprite strength to tow her along. Feeling like she’s about to break apart under the weight she’s carrying, Lux forces herself to take one more step – and then another…

“Lux, look,” Minn whispers, by her ear, “look…”

With a groan of exasperation, Lux opens her eyes to see…

Green shoots pushing up through the soil. Tiny mushrooms growing in sheltered corners. The barest, feeblest signs of life – but it is life. Something can grow in the darkness of the maze. And that might just mean that –

“We’re nearly there!” Minn buzzes up and down, excited, frantic. “Please, Lux! I can see the light!”

Lux staggers forward sullenly, resenting every step. But the light…it’s not a metaphor. She has to rub her eyes as she realises she’s seeing something from around the next corner, like the distant brightness of sunrise. The sight of it stings her eyes. Surely it can’t be…?

Around the corner, she finds herself looking at another vine archway, this one filled with a golden light. For a moment, she thinks that Minn must have led her to a way out of the maze – where else could that light be coming from? But then she sees a shape silhouetted against the soothing glow, the figure of a statuesque, robed woman. In a daze, she stumbles towards the light, towards…who…?

With each step into the warm embrace of the light, her burden feels just a little lighter – the pain fades just a fraction. For a moment, a part of Lux suspects that she has died and is now walking into some deeply undeserved afterlife. But once her eyes have adjusted, once she blinks away the haze of tears, a look at the mysterious woman tells her what’s really going on.

She stands much taller than Lux, clad in a robe of pure white silk. Hair the gold of rich autumn leaves cascades down her shoulders. Most of all, though, there’s something familiar about her elegant features – although Willow and Juniper looked barely alike, she sees both of their faces in this woman’s, and so much more, an uncanny combination of age and agelessness, maturity and eternal youth, as steadfast as old oak and yet as light and airy as a leaf on the wind. The many contradictions woven into Lux’s senses by the glamour of the Hamadryad herself.

“Highness – Majesty – please,” Minn babbles, “I pledge – service, fealty, I plead – just save my friend!”

“Be still, little one.” The Hamadryad takes Lux’s unresisting hand, steadying her moments before she was sure she’d collapse. “What is your name, child?”

It takes all of Lux’s effort to reply. “Lux-Luxara.”

“Luxara.” The Hamadryad nods. “My name is Sylvia.” She puts her other hand at Lux’s back to support her and encourage her forward. “Just a few more steps. Lie down. Rest.”

Lux is more than happy to let herself be lowered down onto her back, onto something soft and comfortable. The relief of having all that weight off her lower back is incredible – though she can still feel it all pressing down on her, shifting in unfamiliar and uncomfortable ways.

As she lifts her weary head to look around, she sees that the bramble walls and ceiling here encircle a large chamber, lush with living plants and flowers that have grown up around the dead grey vines. The light seems not to come from any one place, but to suffuse the whole space, bright but never glaring. Like the dryads’ grove back in the forest, it feels like a safe place – a sacred place. A temple of nature at the heart of the hellish maze.

A sharp twinge brings her mind back to more pressing issues. Sylvia kneels down and touches a hand to Lux’s bulging belly.

“The beast’s offspring has grown greatly within you already,” she says. Her voice is calm, authoritative – soothing, despite her bleak words. “I fear that to purge it from your body now would kill you. But so would allowing it to remain.” She sighs. “All I can do is bring about the birth.”

A chill runs through Lux’s bones. Part of her had still clung to the faint hope that she might somehow escape that particular horror. “There has to be another way – please – ”

Sylvia frowns. “I could postpone it, perhaps,” she says. “Prevent it from taxing you further as it grows. But that would only delay the ordeal for later.”

“I…” Lux blinks away tears. “I’ve never been – I – ”

Sylvia nods solemnly. “This is the first time for you. It will not be easy. But I am here.”