The entrance to the labyrinth loomed before us, a jagged archway carved into the mountainside, its edges slick with dew and shadows. A faint glow emanated from somewhere deep within, casting strange, shifting patterns on the walls.
"This is it," Corwin muttered, his voice uncharacteristically low. "The point of no return."
Lyric tightened her grip on her dagger, her usual confidence muted. "Whatever's inside, we have to be ready. No turning back, right?"
I nodded, swallowing hard as I stared into the yawning darkness. There was no more time for hesitation. With the mirror's strange energy still lingering on my skin, I felt as if the labyrinth itself was pulling me forward, a silent demand that I step inside.
Together, we crossed the threshold.
The moment we entered, the air changed—dense and heavy, almost alive. The faint glow from the walls pulsed in time with my heartbeat, each flicker revealing more of the labyrinth's unsettling architecture. The walls were covered in intricate carvings, their patterns swirling and shifting if I looked too long.
"Do you feel that?" Lyric asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Corwin glanced at her, frowning. "Feel what?"
"It's like… like it's watching us," she said, her eyes darting to the walls.
I didn't answer, but I felt it too—a presence, subtle yet undeniable, like a predator lurking just beyond sight.
"Let's keep moving," I said, gripping the orb I'd brought as a light source. Its glow was steady but dim, barely pushing back the encroaching darkness.
The first corridor was deceptively straightforward, a single path leading deeper into the labyrinth. But as we walked, the walls began to close in, the space narrowing until we were forced to walk single file.
"I don't like this," Corwin muttered from behind me. "Feels like we're being funneled."
He was right. The further we went, the more oppressive the space became, the air growing colder with each step.
Suddenly, the path opened into a wide chamber. The walls here were covered in glowing symbols, their light reflecting off a shallow pool of water that covered the floor. At the center of the room was a pedestal, its surface smooth and unmarked except for a single depression shaped like the shard from the mirror.
"This is it," I said, stepping forward.
Lyric grabbed my arm. "Wait. It could be a trap."
"Everything in here is a trap," Corwin said grimly, though he didn't stop me from approaching the pedestal.
I hesitated, the shard in my hand feeling heavier than before. Placing it in the pedestal felt like a leap of faith—or a deliberate choice to awaken something I couldn't understand.
As soon as the shard touched the pedestal, the symbols on the walls flared to life, their light blindingly bright. The ground beneath us trembled, and a low, resonant hum filled the air.
"What did you do?" Corwin shouted, drawing his sword as the tremors grew stronger.
"I don't know!" I shouted back, clutching the pedestal for support.
The water on the floor began to ripple, the movement unnaturally synchronized. Then, with a deafening crack, the walls of the chamber shifted, opening new pathways on either side.
"It's changing," Lyric said, her voice tinged with awe and fear.
I pulled the shard from the pedestal, its light now pulsing in time with the symbols around us. "We need to move. Now."
We chose the path to the left, its entrance framed by jagged stone. As we stepped into the new corridor, the walls seemed to close behind us, sealing the way back.
"No pressure," Corwin muttered.
The path ahead was darker than before, the faint glow of the shard our only guide. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being herded, each turn of the labyrinth deliberate, as if it had a mind of its own.
Whatever awaited us at its heart, one thing was clear: the labyrinth was far more than a simple maze.