The warm tranquility of the cavern died instantly, replaced by a wave of palpable anxiety. Lycan's words about the awakened Minotaur... echoed louder than his howl, freezing the blood of every Beastfolk who heard them. The golden lantern light suddenly felt cold and fragile, illuminating faces filled with dread, a fear born of the consequences they bore as guardians of the Labyrinth beneath Luthein.
Eldric, the elder, wasted no time. His face was like storm-cracked granite, but his eyes radiated undeniable command.
"Evacuation! NOW!" His roar shattered the paralysis, triggering an explosion of activity.
The underground village transformed into a giant, trampled anthill. Shouts, the screech of carts, and the clamor of rushing footsteps filled the narrow passages. Dust flew, creating a choking brown haze under the swaying lantern light.
Viana stared blankly at the chaos before her, until she was swept into the current. She was pushed, jostled hard by Fenrir shoulders carrying sacks of grain, and nearly bowled over by a group of young Fenrir running while carrying their whimpering children. She stood frozen, her eyes empty as they surveyed the frantic turmoil around her, guilt like a massive stone crushing her chest. This is my fault... All of it is my fault...
Dust swirled and the atmosphere was suffocating. Lycan, who had just helped heave a heavy load onto a cart, caught the shadow of despair in Viana's eyes amidst the crowd. His face creased with worry. With long strides, he pushed through the throng.
"What are you doing? Follow the young Beastfolk and wait in the safe zone," Lycan said, grabbing Viana's hand. Pulling her from the vortex of chaos, his touch was warm, but Viana could only bite her trembling lip.
Whispers of self-blame rumbled in her head... If only I hadn't forced Whisper... If only I hadn't touched that seal...
"We're heading to the emergency basecamp," Lycan explained, his voice striving for calm though his eyes kept scanning the rapidly emptying passages. "A hiding place for situations like this." He turned, busy pushing the last cart laden with water supplies and blankets. Viana froze again, staring at the receding chaos, her body stiff as a statue amidst the swirling dust.
"You!" Lycan's voice was suddenly very close, making Viana jump. "Don't just stand there like a post!" His growl was short, sharp. With a quick movement, he thrust a small, heavy leather pouch full of hard breadcrumbs into Viana's hands.
"Carry this. Follow the flow of people to the western passage. Don't separate. Do NOT get lost!" His command was like a sword – brief, vital, and leaving no room for argument. He didn't even wait for an answer, already turning and darting off to help two staggering elderly Fenrir, supporting their frail bodies.
Her heart pounding wildly, Viana clutched the leather pouch tightly, it felt like a hot coal. She slipped into the back of the group, feeling the chill and oppressive silence beginning to envelop the abandoned village. The faint, distant roar of the Minotaur still echoed, a grim reminder of the disaster she had triggered.
Soon, the last group of Fenrir Beastfolk followed, leaving the unsafe underground village bordering the labyrinth.
.
.
.
Fresh, cold air assaulted Viana's face as they emerged onto the surface.
So there was another way... she thought, amazed at the secret passage hidden behind the roots of a giant dead tree. They hadn't exited through the tunnel where the Minotaur awoke, but somewhere on the edge of the Deadwood Forest. Wizened, leafless trees rose like giant skeletons under the pale moonlight, creating eerie silhouettes.
After all the Beastfolk gathered in a clearing of tall grass, their breaths forming white mist in the cold air, Eldric acted immediately. With an authoritative gesture, he raised his muscular hand high. His silver fur glowed softly.
"Unite, wind and stone! Return slumber to the awakened gate!" His voice boomed, full of magical power. Wind rustled, gathering dust and pebbles around the mouth of the secret passage. With a stomp of Eldric's foot on the ground, the material fused and hardened rapidly, forming a sturdy stone plug.
"The Minotaur won't come up," he admitted, breathing slightly labored after the effort, "but this is to prevent... other things that might follow it."
He looked at his pack, his face resolute under the moonlight. "The Deadwood Forest is dangerous," he acknowledged, his eyes sweeping the skeletal trees surrounding them, "but it's still better than facing mindless frenzy down below. Tonight we rest.
Tomorrow... we make plans. The main seal is shattered. We must... contact the Vice Lord of Luthein." A whisper of fear passed through the Beastfolk upon hearing that name. The Vice Lord was the highest authority since Luthein's disappearance.
That night, in the silent Deadwood Forest, the emergency camp was quickly erected.
A large bonfire was lit, casting dancing orange light on weary, tense faces. Viana chose the farthest corner from the light and the crowd. She sat huddled, hugging her knees tightly, staring into the flames as if the blaze could burn away her guilt. Her whispers were almost inaudible, swallowed by the sigh of the night wind...
"This is all my fault... Why did it have to be like this? If only... if only I hadn't forced Whisper to see the western side of Lumare Forest... None of this would have happened. No Minotaur... No one displaced..." Hot tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back.
Across the fire, Lycan spoke low with Eldric. The elder's face shifted: surprise, worry, then deep contemplation. Occasionally, his sharp eyes flicked towards the solitary Viana. After a while, Lycan nodded and turned. His eyes swept the crowd, searching. When he found the forlorn figure in the dark corner, he walked over, slipping between groups of Fenrir sharing hard bread or tending minor wounds.
"Hey," Lycan's voice was soft yet clear in Viana's ear. "Lost Princess. Elder Eldric wants to speak with you."
Viana lifted her head slowly. Her cheeks were still wet with unshed tears. Without a word, only a small nod and eyes full of questions, she rose. Her body felt heavy. She followed Lycan as he led her through the camp towards a larger tent, pitched slightly apart. A sliver of dim oil lamp light seeped from the tent flap.
They entered. Inside, Eldric sat on a leather cushion, his face grave. Beside him sat an elderly Fenrir woman. Her hair was snow-white, neatly braided, and most strikingly – her eyes were tightly covered by a strip of black silk. Her wrinkled hands held an intricately carved wooden staff. The atmosphere inside the tent felt solemn and heavy with pressure.
"Elder Eldric, Shaman Elara," Lycan greeted respectfully, gesturing for Viana to sit on an empty cushion before them. Viana bowed deeply, her guilt intensifying. She sat cross-legged beside Lycan, her hands cold and sweaty.
"I have heard Lycan's brief report of what happened in the Labyrinth," Eldric began, his voice heavy but calm.
"But truth often has many layers, human child. I want to hear it directly from you. Tell us everything. Start from the beginning."
Viana bowed her head. Her tongue felt dry and leaden. Fear and shame enveloped her. How can I explain the chaos I caused?
"Be at ease, Miss Viana..." Shaman Elara's voice suddenly sounded, gentle yet piercing deep into the soul. Though her eyes were covered, Viana felt an intensely focused gaze, as if the Shaman could see directly into her chaotic thoughts.
"Truth will not harm the honest. Let the words flow like a river."
Lips trembling and voice hoarse from suppressed sobs, Viana began to speak. Her voice was small, sometimes breaking. She recounted her first meeting with Whisper the winged cat, her arrival in Lumare Forest, captivated by its beauty and the giant Ygrasil tree. Whisper also revealing that her grandmother Lutishia was the Elf Queen, and the fact that Lutishia had vanished. Viana told how she had pressured Whisper to go to the western side of the forest where Luthein's last trace before disappearing was, then the burst of residual miasma that separated her from Whisper and led to her meeting Lycan – which ended with her awakening the Minotaur through her impulsive action.
"...and... and then we ended up here," she finished, her voice nearly gone. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her body trembling violently.
"Forgive me... I... I didn't mean to... I didn't know..." She couldn't continue. Her head bowed low, touching the surface of the rough mat in the tent, flooded with guilt and shame. Tears finally fell, dampening the mat.
Silence enveloped the tent after Viana's confession. Only the sound of the night wind sighing through the tent flap and the crackle of the small fire in the mini hearth could be heard. Eldric looked at the still-bowed Viana, his gaze deep and weighing, as if considering a thousand possibilities. Then, slowly, he let out a long sigh, his heavy voice breaking the silence.
"Haaaah..." It sounded like wind escaping an ancient cave. "Sooner or later... The Prophecy was bound to come to pass."
Viana lifted her head slowly, her eyes red and swollen, filled with disbelief and questions.
Prophecy?
Eldric continued, his face creased in the shadows of the oil lamp. "But I never imagined... never imagined this calamity would come now. At a time... at a time when the other two guardians have yet to be found."
The statement hung in the air like a sword. Viana looked at Eldric, then Lycan, then the still-calm yet intensely serious-faced Shaman Elara.
Who are the other two guardians? And what does it have to do with me... and with the awakened Minotaur? Her guilt suddenly mingled with a deep curiosity and fear of something far greater than she had ever imagined.
The night in the Deadwood Forest suddenly felt colder, and the mystery surrounding her deepened, burying her in a vortex of destiny far larger than the mere mistake of a lost human.