The Inner City, a realm within realms, stood guarded by towering gates and vigilant sentinels. Beyond these thresholds lay the Inner Ring, a liminal space cradled between the Outer City's boundary and the true heart of the Inner City. Here, amidst the Shamble—a term of endearment from the local tongue—nobility and affluence converged.
Shops of rarefied wares, taverns of repute, and houses of mirth lined the streets, each establishment a testament to the lavish proclivities of its patrons. One's steed or carriage served as the measure of worth in this domain, for only the enslaved tread these cobblestones on foot, and even they, walking were a rare sight, mostly perched upon their masters' conveyances.
Yet, the true marvel lay beyond the Shamble, within the walls of the Inner City—a Labyrinthine Fortress conceived by my forebear. Crafted to thwart the most cunning of invaders, it housed the noble houses, the royal kin's estates, and the sentries' barracks. This Maze was a safeguard, its secrets known to none without a map, and even then, the traps laid by that venerable architect ensured that no unwelcome soul could navigate its twists and turns.
"We are delivering the transgressor to his lordship," proclaimed our guard, his hand outstretched with a token of passage. Yet, it was clear that this emblem granted me sole entry, for each guardian presented their own insignia in turn. Even Noris, with a flourish, revealed her own emblem upon a kerchief. I had naively assumed she belonged to some Shamble tavern, for I had never deigned to concern myself with even our regular patrons.
A mere few paces stood between us and the Labyrinth's maw. The walls soared, casting an eternal twilight that shrouded the day in dusky gloom. Yet, this shadowed veil had never stirred fear in our hearts—until now.
At the gates, the guards extinguished their torches, their stances morphing into the silhouettes of warriors poised for battle. Swords bared, they huddled, each man a sentinel over his own patch of darkness.
"Hurry up!" one barked, and a firm hand upon my shoulder propelled me forward.
In my memory, the Labyrinth had never been a source of trepidation for our guards; rather, it had served as a sanctuary for clandestine delights. Yet, here we stood, on the precipice of its mostly overgrown and partly destroyed corridors, enveloped by a tension that belied its once-secure embrace.