chapter six

As Andro descended into the labyrinth, only one thought crossed his mind.

I should have done more...

He should have destroyed the divine ones while he had the chance. They were no better than him—they didn't deserve their polished pedestals or glitzy crowns—and when he finally had the chance to prove it, he tripped over his own pride.

As the former record keeper of the labyrinth, he was all too familiar with the rituals that took place before he descended into the enchanted prison. His red tunic itched like it was made of fraying straw, and his stomach already growled, despite the large breakfast he'd been fed as his last meal.

It seemed ridiculous that he was being condemned to the labyrinth, despite the fact that he technically didn't get anyone killed, but he should have... He was so close to wiping fourteen divine ones off the face of Fairmyth .

As a garden nymph, he was constantly stepped over by the divine ones above him. They may have tried to pass him the occasional smile or offer him kindness , but it all meant nothing. Not when they could have easily given him more: more power, more authority, more coin, more anything ! Being less wasn't an option for Andro anymore... And the only way to become more, was to topple those above him.

Or get them sent into the labyrinth.

Andro stepped onto the final step, and no sooner had he done so, a large whoosh of wind blared behind him. He whirled around, but the wind was gone as quickly as it came, and so were the stairs...

Great.

He carried onward, surprised at how well he could see the path without even a hint of light in the dark tunnels. It wasn't so scary; just a big dumb hole in the ground for the divine ones to toss away anyone they wanted. If only they had been able to experience the same treatment.

As the labyrinth's record keeper, Andro had a very important job that not even the creator of the labyrinth, Lord Malik, had a hand in. Andro signed off the names of each man or woman who was sentenced to the impermeable prison. It was a simple task, one that only required a flick of his quill, but it held more power than anyone ever realized.

Just by writing the wrong name—say... the name of a haughty divine one—Andro could send anyone he wanted into the labyrinth's clutches in place of another. He started small, with a lowly divine one who technically worked below him, but could never make his tea correctly. No one questioned it when the guards showed up at her door and put her away for holding. They only sent prisoners into the labyrinth once every two weeks to avoid risk of any old prisoners lingering by the gate to attempt an escape, but Andro couldn't wait.

After his success with the first divine one, he started signing off on even more, dotting his quill with a twisted smile as he slowly cleared out the men and women who looked down upon him. It was too easy, but that was the problem. The sensation of power overwhelmed Andro until he couldn't stop himself from forging new records to send more and more divine ones into the maze.

He had gotten seven women and seven men arrested before the guard finally caught on, and only one day before the labyrinth's gates opened...

I was so close, but I should have done more. So many more...

The labyrinth was warmer than he expected, like a sunny forest with cool air—except, there was no sun, and the air smelled like mildew. The first true shadow caught Andro's eyes, and he realized it was being cast by an old skeleton. Andro tried to follow where the light was coming from, but he couldn't pinpoint any cracks in the ceiling or walls. He knelt by the skeleton, snarling his lip as he gawked at the pitiful scene.

"Pathetic, just giving up and dying like that." He dug through the skeleton's dusty jacket, hunting for anything that could be of use. He found a small knife, with a blade that was no longer than his thumb and terribly dull. "If I'm going to die in here, I'm going to leave some marks on the so-called beast first."

Rumor had it, he was a divine one, too, or at least used to be... Some say he was cursed after insulting the king, and others say he was the reason the labyrinth was built in the first place. After all, you always need a cage to keep a monster in. Either way, if he was a divine one, he deserved to die just as much as any other did.

Andro continued onward, stopping each time he found a corpse or skeleton to hunt for anything that could be of use. For the most part, the bodies were clean, but occasionally, he found the scraps of possessions, like sketched maps that all looked about as confusing as a child's drawing of noodles. He tossed the maps aside, deciding he didn't care nearly as much about escape as he did his vengeance. Marking up the beast would be enough.

He wandered for hours, hunting for the beast and anything else with a heartbeat. He tried running through the tunnels, creeping around the corners, but no matter how he traversed the labyrinth, everything seemed to look the same.

Until he spotted something.

"A plant?"

Andro glanced around, ensuring no other person was around before approaching the strange growth. Sprouting from the labyrinth floor was what appeared to be a rosebush. It was low to the ground, with fat, dark green leaves, wicked thorns, and massive blooms that looked far too heavy for their stems. The roses were blood red, each one perfect and full.

"What? How are you alive?" Andro reached for the bloom, barely touching the petals as he tried to let his magic connect. Typically, his magic didn't mesh well with flowers. He was more of a brambles and succulents sort of nymph—really anything that was prickly and didn't need a lot of care. However, the thorns on the rose allowed him a small connection to the plant, and it was... odd.

His magic felt tainted the second he touched it, like a poison was shooting up his veins and burning until it numbed his throat. He pulled the knife he'd collected from his pocket and sliced the bloom off from the stem.

"What are you?" He studied the rose closer, but the second he pulled it, the magical connection he'd felt began to drain, and the rose started to wilt at an unnatural speed. Petals fell from the bloom, first darkening, then shriveling into a dark brown and floating to the ground until the stem turned rotten in his hand. "Fairmyth..."

"Who dares pick my roses?"

A booming voice echoed behind Andro, and he dropped the remnants of the flower, spinning around with a sharp gasp. Standing before him was a monster like no other, one that not even his pride could imagine taking on. "Y-you..."

"Do you know what you could have done!?" the beast roared, flashing his fangs at Andro as he saw his panicked gaze reflect in the monster's axe.

Did picking flowers hurt the beast? If that's the case...

"Shall I do it again?" he asked with an arrogant lift of his chin. "It only seems right that we suffer together, beast ."

Andro dove for the bush, snatching another bloom by the stem and preparing to sever it from the leaves. Before he could cut another rose, a massive hand snatched his wrist and yanked him back from the bush with the force of a bear.

"I don't need your help to suffer," the monster growled, his eyes piercing through Andro's soul as he raised his mighty axe. "But I can't allow you to destroy my roses!"

Then he swung the axe.