Echoes of the mind

Before inspecting the carcass any further, Fin scanned his surroundings.

He stood in the middle of towering hedge-like walls. Their thick roots sprawled across the ground, too tangled and dense to dig through. The air felt unnaturally still, heavy with silence—like the very space was holding its breath. Up ahead, the path curved sharply in a ninety-degree turn.

"Escape."

The voice echoed in his mind.

And then it hit him—this wasn't just anywhere. He was in a labyrinth.

His heart skipped a beat. "What now?"

In a way, he was lucky. A labyrinth wasn't supposed to be hard to solve. The rule was simple: pick a wall, stick to it, and eventually you'd find the exit.

But two major problems still stood in his way.

First, he had no idea how large the labyrinth was. If it was truly massive, he'd need to find food and water to survive. Second—and far worse—he was certain there would be more monsters like the one he'd just fought.

"What side do I pick? Ah, screw it. I'll follow the left wall and see what happens."

Before heading out, Fin took a moment to prepare. He cut strips of flesh from the wolf-beast's carcass, stuffing them into a pouch. Disgusting, but he might need the food. Then he grabbed the two glowing stones. He didn't know why—something about them called to him.

Time blurred.

There was no sun or moon in the sky, only a dull sheet of grey clouds glowing with pale, sourceless light. Days passed—maybe weeks. Fin continued his trek, hand always on the left wall. Hunger gnawed at him. Worse, he hadn't found water in days. His lips cracked. His throat felt like sandpaper. Every step grew heavier.

And then—pain.

Sudden, blinding pain.

The stones in his pocket began to burn.

They went from warm to scalding in seconds. He screamed, fumbling to grab them, but they seared through his clothes and scorched his skin before he could toss them away.

Breathing hard, he collapsed to his knees.

"I'm going to die," he whispered.

He looked up at the endless maze stretching in all directions.

"I wasn't cut out for this. Why would the gods choose me... just to watch me rot in a damn hedge maze?"

He let out a bitter laugh.

Then a voice replied.

"You're not going to die, you idiot."

Fin flinched.

He spun around, heart pounding. "Who's there?!"

"It's me, dumbass."

The voice was unmistakable.

Slowly, Fin turned.

Deryn stood behind him. Same dark hair, same sharp glare, same cocky grin.

And yet… something about her wasn't right.

Seeing her flooded him with both relief and terror.

"Deryn…?" he breathed.

But the real question—the one that clawed at his mind—wasn't who she was.

It was how she was here at all.

Fin stared at Deryn.

She was smiling—calm, confident, arms crossed like she always did when she was about to lecture him. But there was something off. Her smile was too still. Her eyes too steady. She didn't blink.

"This isn't real," he muttered. "You can't be here."

Deryn raised an eyebrow. "I'm right here, idiot."

"No. You disappeared. You went through your own rift. This maze—it's supposed to be my Trial."

She took a step forward. Fin stepped back.

His head throbbed. His mouth was dry, lips cracked from dehydration. Every breath felt like pulling air through cloth. He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, but she didn't vanish. If anything, she looked more solid.

"Am I losing it?" he whispered.

Deryn tilted her head. "You've been talking to yourself for days. Barely drinking. Eating raw meat like some wild thing. Maybe you are losing it."

The way she said it—it was too smooth. Too casual. Deryn would've teased him, maybe rolled her eyes, maybe even smacked his head. But this version just stood there. Watching.

Fin's heart pounded harder. "If you're real… tell me something only you would know."

"Like what?"

"I don't know—something from before the Trial."

She paused. Her face twitched. Just a flicker—but Fin saw it.

"You're not her," he said. "You're something else. Part of the Trial."

The illusion smiled wider now, too wide. "But does it matter? If I feel real? If I act like her? If I say what you want to hear? Isn't that what you need right now?"

Fin's knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground. His hands trembled. His vision blurred. "What's happening to me?"

He grabbed the stones again, still warm in his pocket. His scorched skin flinched at the contact, but he held them anyway. The burning was gone—but a low hum vibrated through his fingers, like they were... watching him.

Deryn—not Deryn—knelt in front of him. "The maze isn't just walls and monsters. It's you. All of this is you. Your mind. Your fears. Your memories. If you want to survive…"

She leaned in, whispering now, voice suddenly distorted, inhuman.

"…you'll have to kill the parts of yourself that can't."

Fin squeezed his eyes shut. "Not real. Not real. Not real."

When he opened them again, she was gone.

And he was alone. Again.

He got up tried to act like everything was back to normal but he couldn't--he questionned his sanity every second of the day. He had lost track of left and right rendering his previous strategy of solving the maze useless. And the cherry on top was the fact that he was now face to face with monsters.