Chapter 11: The Weight of the Trial

Chapter 11: The Weight of the Trial

Ray awoke to the faint glow of embers in a small fire pit, his eyelids heavy from long-overdue rest. The cramped shelter was silent, save for the distant throb of the labyrinth's living walls. He pushed himself up with a groan, each muscle protesting. A dull ache lingered in his ribs where the desert beast had nearly ended him, and the stale air here did little to revive him.

Across from him, Alkan sat against the curved wall, staring into the dying fire. He held a jagged scrap of metal in one hand, turning it over thoughtfully.

"You're awake," Alkan said, voice low. He didn't bother looking up. "We have much to discuss."

Ray rubbed the sleep from his eyes, memories of the past days—weeks?—flooding back. "You said this place is a trial. Tell me everything."

Alkan exhaled, finally meeting Ray's gaze. His eyes held both weariness and a glimmer of determination. "The labyrinth," he began, "is alive. It shifts constantly—corridors collapse, walls move, new paths appear out of nowhere. We call it the 'Ever-Changing Trial.' Anyone the guardian deems 'worthy' is sent here to prove themselves. Or die trying."

Ray frowned, recalling his arrival. He'd been a slave, fleeing the desert beasts when the ground collapsed beneath him, landing him in some hidden temple. Then the hooded figure—this so-called 'guardian'—had transported him here without explanation. "And you're sure only one person is meant to leave?"

"That's what we were told," Alkan said, setting aside the metal scrap. "The hero—the one chosen by the gods—will conquer the labyrinth and emerge. The rest of us, if we survive, are meant to follow him or her into the war against the outers."

A sour taste filled Ray's mouth. "If no one's found an exit in thirty years, how are you still alive?"

Alkan's jaw tightened, and he glanced at the half-buried entrance to their cramped hideout. "I've been here seven years, as far as I can tell. In that time, I've seen hundreds of Awakened arrive. Some lasted days, some lasted months. Many died fighting each other or the monsters that roam these corridors. Others simply… vanished. A few lost themselves entirely, becoming as savage as the beasts." His tone turned bitter. "We tried to work together in the beginning—forming teams, searching for a path out. But this labyrinth seems designed to break unity. People got desperate, paranoid. And that thing above us—the Fallen Devil—picked us off whenever we grew strong."

Ray remembered his own brush with the outer creature that haunted the upper floors: an abomination with intelligence and power far beyond anything a mere mortal like him could handle. Yet, for some reason, it had let him slip away. "That devil you mentioned… I encountered it," Ray admitted, his stomach knotting at the memory. "It almost killed me, but then it just… stopped. Like I wasn't worth the effort."

Alkan's eyes narrowed. "Because you're not Awakened. It only targets real threats. To it, you're barely a nuisance."

Ray considered that, his mind drifting back to the desert beasts he'd somehow evaded. "If the labyrinth's purpose is to find a hero, maybe the real test isn't just escaping—it's defeating that Fallen Devil. Proving you can stand against the strongest threats."

Alkan let out a harsh laugh. "We tried. There were nearly a dozen of us at one point—Awakened warriors, each strong enough to level small armies outside. We cornered it, or so we thought. It tore through us like we were nothing."

Silence settled between them, thick with unspoken dread. Ray looked at Alkan, noticing the tightness in his posture. He might have once been a proud king—he still carried himself with a certain regal confidence—but years of isolation and failure had etched deep lines of despair into his face.

"Earlier," Ray ventured, "you said we should wait for others. But… I don't think anyone else is coming."

Alkan stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Ray swallowed. This was the part he'd dreaded explaining. "Before I ended up in that temple, I was running through a place you called Oasis City. It was just… ruins. No people. No signs of life. It looked like it had been abandoned for years."

Alkan shot him a sharp look. "That can't be. Oasis City was thriving before I was taken. It was a refuge for those fleeing the outer creatures."

Ray hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "All I saw were collapsed buildings, sand filling the streets, everything empty. I even climbed what was left of the city wall, but there was no movement. No smoke from fires. Just silence."

Alkan's hand trembled around the metal shard. "That's impossible… unless…" His voice cracked. "Unless the outer horde reached the city, and the guardians lost control. But that would mean—" He broke off, struggling to contain a surge of emotion.

"—no more arrivals," Ray finished gently. "No one left to send."

For a moment, neither man spoke. The labyrinth's low hum filled the silence, each pulse of the walls a reminder of their prison. Alkan closed his eyes, and Ray saw the weight of seven hopeless years bearing down on him. Anger, sorrow, and disbelief flickered across his face in quick succession.

Finally, Alkan opened his eyes, and Ray noticed they were damp. "All those Awakened… all those years. We kept telling ourselves, 'Next year, more will come. We'll have another chance.' But if the city's gone—if the guardians are gone—there's no one left to continue this trial."

Ray nodded, a bitter taste in his mouth. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Alkan rose abruptly, pacing the cramped space. His footsteps echoed against the slick walls. "So it's just us," he muttered. "Two people in a labyrinth designed for an army of Awakened. With a Fallen Devil stalking the upper floors and no real chance to kill it."

He stopped, turning to Ray. "You're a mortal, untrained. I'm an Awakened who's failed this trial for seven years. How are we supposed to survive, let alone succeed?"

Ray shrugged, though his heart pounded. "You said you've survived this long. That counts for something. And me… I may be weak, but I've slipped past that monster once. Maybe we can use that."

A spark of determination flashed in Alkan's eyes, but it was tinged with desperation. "I once thought I could lead my people to salvation. Now I'm a king of nothing. But I won't lie down and die here, not after all I've seen."

Ray drew in a shaky breath. "Then let's figure this out. Maybe the labyrinth has a weakness. Maybe there's a hidden path no one else found. If we really are the last… we can't just give up."

Alkan studied Ray's face, as if seeing him for the first time. The tension in the air crackled. Finally, he spoke, voice quiet but firm. "You're right. Even if it's a fool's hope, it's all we have left."

He grabbed a small satchel from the corner, rummaging through it to reveal a battered scrap of parchment. Unfolding it, he revealed a crude map—corridors and chambers drawn in charcoal. Some parts were heavily crossed out, others circled with question marks.

Ray's eyes widened. "You've been mapping the labyrinth?"

Alkan nodded. "It's outdated, since the place changes. But some areas shift less than others. If we can track where it's stable, maybe we'll find a pattern."

A flicker of optimism sparked in Ray's chest. "Then let's start there."

Alkan managed a half-smile, though sorrow lingered in his eyes. "We'll move carefully. One step at a time. Who knows—maybe the labyrinth wants to be solved."

Outside, a distant roar echoed through the corridors—deep and resonant, like thunder trapped in a cave. Ray's stomach twisted. The Fallen Devil was still out there, prowling.

They had no choice but to try.