The Labyrinthiam

It’s December 1st, 2029, I’m a historian named Vic Tallon and I’ve been lost for the past three days in this cave system. I’m afraid I have no memory of how or why I came to be here, only that I woke up with only the clothes on my back, a vial of ink, a quill, and 5 jars of preserved food alongside this blink black tome of which I’m writing in. And that others have been here before me, it’s their path I’ve been following through the cave hoping to find an exit.

An echoing thump rings out as he slams his book shut. Okay, you’re well-rested, and thanks to the clean water I found yesterday, I’ve got two jars of fresh water and three jars of food left. Sigh, it’ll just have to be enough to last. Buttoning the makeshift bag he made from his overshirt closed and tying it around him, okay forward I go. Holding his book up so that the glowing crystal embedded in its spine points forward as he Ventures fourth.

A short walk and I’m here; the next chamber. And it’s dark in here of course it is, well at least it’s straightforward this time, to both my right and left is some glassy black liquid and in front, there’s a stone path, guess I know where I’m supposed to go. But I like options, picking a pebble up off the ground and throwing it to his right,… And nothing, that’s ominous. How about this; then? Grabbing another stone off the ground and dropping it into the liquid, with hardly Splash nor sound the stones smacks the surface and slowly sinks, well that rules out swimming, and the walls are too smooth to climb so forward it is then. The stone path quickly started inclining until finally plateauing just shy of the end, okay so where’s the exit? Approaching the edge of the path is when he saw them, two fixed wooden trapeze swings suspended between slag tights is all that is between him and the exit.

So I’m supposed to swing to the other side? Reaching his hand for the first trapeze; judging the distance to see if it’s even possible. Well, I could make it, but with so little clearance between them and the ceiling, I can’t salvage it if I don’t carry my momentum well enough. And with how high up I am it doesn’t even matter if I’m falling onto the stone or into that Tartarus pit of a liquid. And with scaling the walls out that; means going for the jump is my only choice.

Walking back to the start of the plateau, reading himself by tightening his bag around him and taking a deep breath, you’ve got this Vic, all you have to do is put confidence at each step; just like Gran taught you. Then without allowing a single moment’s hesitation he sets off sprinting hard and fast for the gap as he can; his feet stinging with every step as they impact the ground; as he reached the edge, he lept; arms outstretched, he grabs hold with his left hand and swings himself towards the next feeling and hearing an uncomfortable popping noise from his shoulder as he lets go with his left arm and grabs hold of the next with his right; throwing himself with the momentum to the exit rolling a short distance down an incline.

Coughing; he pushes himself upright and leans against a wall. That could have gone better, but I actually made it. He said with a pained expression of joyful surprise on his face, I could pass out right here, but sleeping won’t help. Wincing, he reached over to check his shoulder; thankfully it feels like It’s just dislocated; guess it’s time to see if first aid classes were worth it. He wadded-up his shirt then; stuffed it in his mouth, biting down on it, as he grabbed his left wrist and pulled his arm upwards; pain shooting through his arm and shoulder his eyes began to water his vision blurred from the pain. His arms outstretched street in front of until finally, The Joint slipped back into place with a soft pop. Spitting his shirt out of his mouth; he leans his head against the cave wall and rests for a while before forcing himself to stand up. It’s all right Vic; all you need to do is ignore the pain, and just keep putting one foot in front of the other, just like before, just like they taught you. He told himself trying to convince himself his arm will hurt whether or not he’s moving.

It feels like I’ve been walking for hours now but it’s impossible to tell for sure; the same smell of whetstone; same smooth walls in front and back; the same sound of running water in the walls, same all-encompassing darkness. Actually, if it wasn’t for the crystal in my book I wouldn’t even have made it this far, I’d still be stumbling around in the dark where I woke up, which makes me wonder how such a dim light can penetrate so, far... What’s that? Noticing something on the ground in front of him on the light’s edge as he walks. Some kind of etching? It’s of a building; two windows and a door, kneeling he traces his fingers over the etching; feeling some faint indentions at the bottom; Is that some kind of crude writing?

Curious he pulls out his ink and quill; and traces the indentions. I was right; it is writing, looks like Latin maybe? It’s hard to tell with how crudely it’s carved though... Oh, I know. Opening his book, he makes copies of the writing and etching. There; now I’ll have some work to do when I get home. Stowing his ink and quill while standing up, he notices another just down the path. Curiosity piqued, he went for a look, but the closer he got the more he saw, etching’s lined everything from the floor to ceiling. What is this? Most of these are religious symbols, there’s everything from ancient Mayan to Egyptian hieroglyphs, there are even a few depictions of Christ, man what I wouldn’t give for a cell phone. But the deeper I go, the more a sense of unease wells up inside me as the etchings became ever more prevalent and cruder in nature.

Until he rounded a corner where the etchings stopped just feet away from the entrance to the next chamber, as if someone had drawn a hard line in the stone. Well, if that’s not ominous; then I don’t know what it is. Leaning against the wall for a moment as he takes a swig of water, I can rest for the day after I get through this chamber. All right, just a little bit further. Stepping into the dimly lit chamber, his heart sank there was no exit insight, just a pedestal sitting against the back wall lit by glowing crystals in the ceiling. As he approached the pedestal; he could see an old-fashioned black notebook with burnt edges resting on it. This can’t be it; there has to be more. Flipping through the pages of the black book, he could find only one entry. “To ask a guide is to find your way”

To ask a guide is to find your way? But what’s it mean by guide? The entire cave system has been linear, so there hasn’t been any, right? Looking over the burnt book again; he noticed a slot in its spine where a crystal, like the one in his book, could fit. It’s missing its crystal. Could it mean guiding light? But it said to ask a guide... This is probably a waste of ink but, hey; who can blame the desperate crazy guy in a cave for talking to his book? Pulling out his ink and quill he opens his book and writes, do you know my path forward?... Yeah, I guess, I really don’t know what I was expecting there, but hey, worth a... shot. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the ink on the page began spreading across it; slowly engulfing it entirely before fading away, revealing the response. “Pour thine Inc in the center of the chamber, then shine mine light upon it; and thine path will be clear.”

Huh, I’ll be damned, I’m crazier than I thought. Stowing his quill; he walks over to roughly the center of the room and pours about a quarter of his remaining ink before stowing it as well ink, then pinpointing the light from the book at the puddle of ink. After a moment of silence, it begins quivering in place. The ink puddle starts collecting itself into a bubble before extending a long black line across the ground, then rotating it slowly in a circle. As the black line moves, the ink it leaves behind seems to fall straight down through the ground as if drawing a staircase into the stone. I must be stock raving mad. As what remained of the ink dissipated, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again, nope still there, staring at his book for a moment before using it to light way down the staircase. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, he was met with an ornate wooden door with a picture of a book and quill on it. He hesitated for a moment. What if it’s just another stone pathway on the other side? With a shake of his head, he opens the door only to be met with a sheet of pure black mist; closing his eyes and with a deep breath, he steps through.

His eyes still clenched tight, waiting for some noise to tell him if he was home when his heart skips a beat as he here’s a car horn in the distance. I’m home, I’m actually home! Tears already running down his face as he opened his eyes, I’m in my study, and I still have all my things; even the book, well that rules out this all being some kind of fever dream, although; I think I’m happy that it wasn’t. He lays his book on the desk in front of him; noticing an envelope on his desk, oh? To help get you started? Inside the letter was a single check made out to him for $20,000 the back of the check has the words for your next adventure written on it.