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The Labyrinth of the Minotaur

Traveling to and from quests were usually the best moments in the life of Minosians. Known throughout the realms as the best fighters around, and the one nation with more mercenary guilds than other guilds, the island nation of Minos earned their money from adventuring and doing quests for those who needed it. The quests were all different, and each of them presented different risks and rewards. Military training was mandatory for everyone wishing to join the mercenary guild, and it helped them in many ways, especially during a war.

They were currently having a war with the neighboring nation of Crete, led by the king, Aegeus. He was a ruthless king who fought with many neighboring nations, often for resources, and rarely for territory. Crete and Minos, being neighboring islands only a couple distance away from each other, were locked in a war that went on for almost five years. The war was not in a large scale, and the devastation was not as apparent as most other conflicts of the past. Yet, the use of magic and sorcery was apparent, though not in a destructive way.

The Cretan military knew of the Minosians’ reputation in completing quests that earned them respect with other nations. While the mercenaries were less adequate than the formal military due to their limited funding and independent agents, they were feared for their political connections, and their involvements in quests despite of open conflict made the Cretan king to assume that there was a veiled attempt to gather allies and end the war. It was not something new for the nations, as cunning and strength helped each other during the wars.

As such, the Cretans started intercepting many shipments to and from Minos, including mercenaries coming back or going to a quest posted on their guilds’ notice boards. While the Minosians had their own ways of going around this (including sailing in the middle of the night or raising false Cretan flag), there were sometimes those who were unfortunate enough to be caught by the Cretans. Some were fortunate that the ship’s captain knew his way of persuasion. Some others, however, were less fortunate. Death and capture were common among these less fortunate, with more deaths due to these mercenaries fighting back. One of the stories, however, was the capture of the Minosian mercenaries travelling back home from their latest quest involving rogue harpies.

The king, Aegeus, was reviewing military reports with his generals when he received a scroll reporting the arrival of several prisoners, clearly Minosians in origin. The king asked his advisor as to how they were identified, and he came up with an answer.

“It was simple, my lord,” he said. “There are minotaurs among them. The famed bull-men of Minos.”

“Minotaurs? Hmm…,” wondered Aegeus. “I thought they would pick up something of a fight.”

“They were, my lord, but the soldiers capturing the ship was specifically told to follow your orders. They were…complications, but they are successfully restrained.”

“Which ship captured them?”

“The ship Rhonda, my lord, captained by Xares.”

“The Chimera?” Said Aegeus before he smiled. “He does have the benefit of a lion, even if he is a goat. Reward him sufficiently, Thesan, and prepare the prisoners for the labyrinth.”

“The labyrinth, my lord?” said the advisor, confused. “But isn’t it…”

“It is completed,” said Aegeus, assured. “Now. Judge these prisoners, and pick seven of them to be cast into the labyrinth. Then, you may join me in my chambers, to watch as events unfold.”

Meanwhile, down at the docks processing, a group of men of different ages and races were yoked and forced to walk in a line towards a prison, where they were simply tossed in after they were freed and most of their armor and weapons were confiscated, leaving them practically naked. Some of them who were beastmen were tossed to a different place, still bound, to prevent causing injury or otherwise easy escape.

One of these particular beastmen was Asterios of Minos, a minotaur warrior who chose to follow the path of mercenary instead of following his family’s footsteps as soldiers. While it wasn’t so different, given both were trained with the same abilities, Asterios felt that being a mercenary was far more rewarding, as he was sent to quests, giving him a chance to hone his skills, and travel around the islands, meeting new people, and facing dangers.

Of course, one of those risks, especially in the war, was imprisonment, and the minotaur clearly realized that this was one of them. It was worse when captured, however, for he might never return to his home, and his young lover, a manticore, waiting for him. He would have had choices for his fate. He could be executed as an enemy, worked as labor slave, or even any other infernal things that could fall upon him.

It was made worse by the fact that he had to spend a night, stripped of everything that could protect him, bound and helpless in a stone cell. It was clearly made for his kind, a minotaur with horns that could easily pierce a human’s flesh with sufficient force. The horns had been sawed off to add to his humiliation some hours before. Thus, with nothing he could do to struggle, all he could do was to try and rest. He was unable to, however, as his mind was full with what lies ahead of him.

Fortunately for him, he wasn’t alone in that cell, and even more fortunate, his cellmate was willing to talk.

His cellmate was smaller than him in any way, and was shivering. He seemed to come from a different land, far from the cluster of island nations, for he was reptilian, or more specifically, a feathered reptilian. His tail was slightly longer than the ones he met, and red colored feathers covered the top of his head like a headdress. His scales were dark blue, reflected by the moonlight.

One particular interest for Asterios was that he was wearing a blindfold. Was he blind, or was he blinded by the army? Asterios quickly shook away the second possibility. The Cretan army was ruthless, but they were not sadistic enough to pluck a reptile man’s eyes out for torture. He then concluded that he was genuinely blind, and moved closer to the reptilian, who sensed him.

“Warmth,” he said.

“Do not worry. I know your kind is cold-blooded.” He then hugged him. “Here. Keep warm.”

“You’re furry,” said the reptilian. “Are you a…”

“I’m a minotaur.”

“Ah. That explains things.” The reptilian then tried to make himself comfortable. “I’m far from home, then. So far away from home.”

“I have never seen your kind before. You are covered with thick plate scale, and you have feathers for hair. Which land do you hail, reptilian?”

“Me? I’m a basilisk,” he said. “And if I’m in Minos…”

“I hate to say it to you, basilisk, but we are in Crete.”

“Crete. Then, I am separated from my people, and I am bound here, waiting for whatever comes next.”

“You come during the worst times, basilisk.”

“Oh, no, no, I did not come willingly. My ship was wrecked and I was washed ashore. I could’ve used my Gaze to protect myself, but I do not want to risk losing my eyes. I am not a fighter, you see.”

“So, you are not blind, then. Why are you…”

“Wearing the blindfold? Let’s hope you do not need to know what my eyes are capable of,” said the basilisk. “And in our culture, it’s bad manner to show your eyes to someone who is courteous, and friendly, like you.”

Asterious wondered what kind of power was in those eyes. Would it kill him instantly when he gazed upon him, or would it simply turn him into rock, like the Gorgons?

“So,” said Asterios, trying to change the topic. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, thank you. It’s a shame there is no fire for warmth. It’s so cold, and I don’t have a strand of clothing on me, either.”

“I can see that.” Like Asterios, the basilisk was naked. Everything was stripped from him, including his clothes, as prisoners did not need them. Many of the prisoners were covered with fur or feathers, depending on their race, so it was better this way.

“It’s a good thing you can warm me up. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, basilisk,” said Asterios. “Now…I think you’re tired, as I am.”

“Yes. Well…do you mind if we…”

“It’s better that way. I know that our fate may have become worse tomorrow, but let’s not die before that.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They then cuddled each other, trying to keep each other warm, and went to sleep.

They were woken up, in surprise, by a sudden bang on the door. It flew open and two human soldiers walked in and threw them both their clothes. They said, “Get dressed. You two have been chosen.”

“Chosen for what?” asked Asterios.

“None of your concern, Minosian. Now get dressed.”

Under the tense stare of both Cretan soldiers, they put on the last piece of clothing they had before they were caught. Asterios wore his battle dress, which was nothing much more than a leather buckle that housed his currently confiscated axe, and waist armor, along with wrist armor that saved him so many times. He also had bangles for his ankle to complement the fact that, as a minotaur, he did not require to wear any footwear. His legs were practically hooves, after all.

The basilisk wore a cloth wrapped around his waist, tightened by a belt, while he was also wearing a vest of sorts to cover his chest part. He had many jewelries, but knowing the time it would take to put everything on, he was forcefully pulled away, leaving most of his jewelries behind. Both were then shackled and led outside. Asterios was then blindfolded, and was to walk in a line with a number of people in front of him.

“What is going to happen to us?” asked the basilisk, clearly scared behind him.

“Don’t worry,” said Asterios, though he was also worried. Something was not right. Other than being executed, there was no other reason to let them be dressed. Prisoners were often executed just as there was, in a public display as they were hanged. He also remembered that some prisoners from the faraway land of Roma would be put in a school to fight, where they would be put into an arena to fight to the death. Those unredeemable was just simply executed by these fighters, or mauled by feral beasts, just for the sake of entertainment for these Romans. Asterios knew Minosians also had similar things, and Cretans possibly had one.

Their walk was winding, and went on for hours, until they stopped. They were then unshackled and was prodded to go forward, towards a gate of sorts.

“You are all chosen to be sacrifices,” said a Cretan soldier. “Beyond this door is the land of the dead, and once you are inside, you will never go out.”

“So, it’s a prison, then?” said a man beside Asterios. “It’s not a sacrifice if it’s a prison.”

“You’ll soon find out,” said the soldier. “Now, this place is something else, and for that, you have a choice of weapons.”

“Weapons?” said a woman. “Are you sure we are not going to just use it to kill you bastards on the spot?”

“You won’t, because they are already inside. It’s basically your lives now, beyond this point. There will be danger and horrors to be seen, and well…it’s practically a death sentence, anyway.”

“Then, just kill us right here and now!” said another man. “Why are you putting us in, huh? Is it a sick entertainment?”

“I will be happy to oblige,” said the guard while pointing his spear towards the shouting man. “You will be dead either way. But, what’s the point in that?”

Then the man was quickly hit from behind and fell forward, unconscious, by another guard.

Everyone chosen, all seven of them, were then forcefully put through the gate. It quickly closed behind them. There was darkness for a moment before, as if by magic, the wall torches lit itself.

There was a long, featureless hallway with torches lit on either side. The place seemed ominous and uninviting, but between the now-closed doors behind them and the long, dark hallway in front of them, they had no other choice but to brave it and move forward.

Asterios, being both the biggest and the strongest of the group, carried the unconscious man, who was not very heavy given his physique. Another person, a hyena, who Asterios knew was a gnoll from a land of sparse vegetation and dry terrains, helped guide the basilisk. He pretended to be blind, and only Asterios knew about it.

Along the hallway, they started knowing each other, and their lives before being caught by the Cretan army. The gnoll, Hasnur, was a slave whose master was killed during the war. He was supposed to be put in labor, such is the fate for a masterless slave who was not freed or sold before. Somehow, he was saved from that fate, but ended up into something worse.

The human beside Hasnur was, like Asterios, a Minosian, and like Asterios, was a mercenary. Like him, he was captured during one of his travels to a quest, and was trying to get out. He had a skill in subterfuge and killed a soldier when his head was turned, earning the wrath of the commander. He was sentenced to death, but was simply thrown into the labyrinth. His name was Phelas.

Aside from these people, the remaining three were civilians who, unlike the rest, were Cretan. The three had something in common: they were scholars, and they despised the war. The king simply throw them in there because they were influential in gaining the people’s favor. One of them, Axan, felt that simply killing them would made them martyrs, and could turn public favor against the king. He theorized that the king would simply assure them that he was still alive, trapped inside the newly constructed labyrinth. The second, Artalos, was a blacksmith, vital to the soldier’s arsenals, and was thrown because someone was jealous. He just hoped that it did not last long. Artalos was quite famous in his own right, and soldiers referred to him for his quality. His rival, however, was notorious for making shoddy work.

The unconscious person was a librarian who Axan knew, but not personally. He was a nice person, but could be easily intimidated and pretty much impulsive, given how he reacted to finding one of the scrolls as soon as he was asked for it. The reason of him being thrown into the labyrinth, however, was still a mystery, and only he could answer it for them.

Before long, they reached the end of the straight wall, to a branching path. They were each labeled to where it would lead by a mysterious sign in the middle of the crossroads. They were each given direction as ‘Garden’, ‘Armory’, and ‘to Hallway B’. Somehow it seemed ominous.

“These three seemed harmless enough,” said Artalos. “But we can’t be sure about it. One of these might be full of traps.”

“Or all three of them,” said Phelas. “You don’t trust a sign that easily, especially in a place of death. It could have been removed and replaced by something else.”

“No,” said Asterios while looking down. “This sign has not been moved for a while. See the weathering wood?”

“Hmm, you’re right. And this thing is basically sealed into the stone,” said Phelas upon noticing what Asterios said. “And both are old, from the look of it. Still, it’s better to be careful, right?”

Asterios and Phelas nodded to each other, and turned towards the others.

“Now, aside from Artalos, who has ever used a weapon before?” asked Asterios.

“My master is…was, a soldier, and I always carry his stuffs around,” said Hasnur. “And handle his horse. But I never used one.”

“And I’m a scientist, so it’s obvious. The unconscious librarian explains himself, too.”

“Well. How about you, Killian?”

“I know arts of unarmed combat. Does that count?”

“Enough in some ways. Now, we are planning to arm ourselves, so our first destination would be the armory,” said Phelas. “No objections?”

“How about if we stay in the garden?” said Axan.

“First rule in a cave system. Do not split up,” said Phelas. “If you’re in danger, we cannot reach your place in time. Best if we stay together.”

“Oh, well….” Axan turned towards the gaping cave opening leading towards the garden. “I guess you’re right. It might not be the right way, anyway.”

“We are not certain if this is the right way, or if it isn’t infested with creatures,” said Asterios. “In fact, I don’t know if that mad king of yours plan to let us win this.”

Meanwhile, up on his throne, the king, Aegeus, was angry. He had never felt so stupid before. It was his labyrinth, and he was a cunning man who tried to outwit the king just for the sake of it. For this time, the king’s lack of knowledge to the labyrinth, and what contained within, cost him his entertainment. The mechanism he provided simply create something of no relevant, and that something was a sword. It was not made with the best copper or iron, but it was far better than the blacksmith that replaced Artalos, who was thrown inside, also because of his carelessness.

“Sire?” asked his advisor. “Should we get some men to pursue them?”

“No. He has made sure that my power is useless against him in there,” said Aegeus, trying to control his anger. “That madman is clearly laughing in there, mocking us for playing into his hands.”

“Anything we should do, then?”

Aegeus thought about it, but then he said, “Ah, leave them be! He may have fooled us, but what can he do when he do get out, hmm? He’s an engineer, not a soldier!”

“But he…”

“Enough talk. Let’s look at the battle draft. We need to do something about those mercenary ship. If my information is correct, they are going to utilize these fighters as reinforcements, and they are worrying. Let’s go, Thionidas. If our prison is full, we can throw them all into that place and let them kill themselves. It still has its use, you know.”

Thionidas had no other way to agree with his king. The Labyrinth may had been made by a madman (who was being forced by the king to create a prison that doubled as an arena for the king’s amusement. It clearly served its purpose, although not as an arena). He was trying to tell the king of a scroll that the man left for them, in which only Thionidas was told that it was a warning of something dark in the future. He did not care. The man was mad, and the letter could be a rant or something incoherent.

Little did he knew that when he threw the scroll away into the fire, it opened. There was nothing in there, only two words and a letter that said:

“You lose. D.”

Inside the labyrinth, the seven ‘sacrifices’ were still walking towards the armory, and noticed nothing peculiar as they walked. Along the way, Phelas and Asterios got to know each other well.

“So. You’re Asterios, then? Celebrated warrior of the Golden Bull?”

“I never thought I’m that famous.”

“If being called famous is ‘getting hard quests and beat them’, not everyone can do that. I’m just wondering, though. Are its members really all minotaurs?”

“No. Why do you think so?”

“The name sounds very specific, and the fact that your leader is a minotaur.”

“But it doesn’t mean everyone there is a minotaur. We have humans, too, along with people from different nations. Sometimes, we even accept former slaves.” He then turned to Hasnur. “Even you can join us if you want, but don’t expect hospitality. They may not see you as a slave, but they may see you as a worthy warrior, not just in skill, but in heart.”

“In conclusion, like any other guilds.” Phelas smiled. “I’m glad. Everyone talked about Golden Bull a lot and I thought they are quite special in its own way. I’m glad I’m mistaken.”

“You don’t seem to know much about us. Where do you come from?”

“Me? I came from Spiridon.”

Asterious was surprised. “The other side of the island? Then why are you here? I thought that place is beyond the reaches of Crete.”

“Turns out a scout ship caught us near your city and took us in. Either it’s bad luck, or one of the gods play a trick on us. Either way…I’m the only one here of my crew, and I don’t know what happens to the rest of them.”

“Then we have similar problems, and also something else. Do you realize it?”

“What?”

“Can you hear something?”

“Nothing.”

“Exactly,” said Asterios. He then made a fighting stance. “It could be a trap.”

“Trap?” asked Axan. “Where?”

“Not yet, but be ready for anything. Look. We have finally reached the open.”

But what they expected as an armory was nothing like it at all. In fact, it was well-stocked with many weapons of every kind. Somehow, it looked like the waiting room for a gladiatorial arena, one that Asterios once needed to compete to win a prized object that turned out to be the thing they had been searching for during their time in Roma. He fought and killed many of his opponents, but if it wasn’t for his friend, he might not survive.

Artalos approached a nearby sword and took it. He tried the sword’s sharpness, but it hurt him, to his surprise.

“By the forge god,” said Artalos. “This is the sharpest thing I have ever come across. Its model is clearly intended for a soldier, but…it’s not made of iron. On top of that, it’s laced with magic.”

“You know magic?” asked Phelas.

“Enchantment of any kind, including runic magic from the white lands,” said Artalos. “The only magic I don’t know is either from the dwarves, or the elves. Not human magic, and I don’t even know their language. This sword is forged by a tempered unknown metal mixed with ether. From the process, I say its elven, but the model is clearly a soldier’s sword.”

“You know that much?”

“You two Minosians are not the only travelers here, you know,” said Artalos with a wink. He then swung the sword around, testing its weight. “And I guess this should do for decent protection.”

Phelas also found a pair of knives that seemed very special. It was clearly not a Minosian or Cretan made pair, and it certainly felt weird when he touched it. It wasn’t a particularly bad design, though, and it had a hook to latch on someone’s flesh. It’s very gruesome when they pull it out, but with situations like this, it was better than none.

“Hey, are you forgetting something?” asked Axan. “What about the traps?”

“Traps?”

Right after Asterios said that, the minotaur touched the handle of an ornate battle-axe. He and Phelas quickly felt something. A killing intent. They were both Minosian warriors, trained in military combat and training, one of which including danger sensing. They found the danger, a well-armed combatant, coming from the other side of a tunnel.

He was heavily armored, with his helmet bearing the head of a bull, making him resemble a minotaur from afar. From his physique and lack of tail, Asterios could see that he was a human wearing a minotaur-like armor, either to look imposing or because it was a ceremonial armor. Either way, it wasn’t a Minos tradition to wear a minotaur-inspired armor, unless it was a minotaur wearing one, which fit the design.

“Stay behind us,” said Phelas as he brandished the weapons he had.

“No, you stay behind me, Phelas. He’s clearly not someone who you can fight.”

Asterios readied himself, trying to lift the battle-axe he had his hand on, but for some reason, it was too heavy for him. He looked at it, and it was lodged on a metal table. Realizing it was useless, he went unarmed.

His initial thought was that for someone wearing an armor modeled after a minotaur, it would be very heavy and unwieldly. But then, he was surprised by how fast the person was, and how berserk he was. He was almost caught off-guard and managed to grab a hold of his attacker, but it was clear that he and the armored person had the same strength. They were locked in a stalemate.

“Asterios! Pull yourself free!”

“I am trying to hold him off!” exclaimed Asterios.

“No, you don’t understand. That thing is a test! There’s a text here telling us to ‘not fight might with might’.”

“What are you talking about, Axan?”

Axan pointed towards a sign over the opening where the armored person came from. It was written in Minosian, and it said ‘What push will pull. It is true on the reverse’.

“What in the Underworld does that mean?”

“That means, you do not fight it with force!”

“And let it kill us?”

“Asterios, use the Pankrion Maneuver! That way, you won’t need to hold him,” said Phelas.

The minotaur knew what the human meant. Pankrion Maneuver was a technique to use the opponent’s strength against themselves. It started by feinting, then as the opponent became unbalanced, use the forward momentum and lift them up. As an extra, the Maneuver could also have a sudden palm fist blow to the chest. A sufficient force could break ribs. However, the more destructive move could only be done when attacking a different race. A minotaur against a minotaur would not had any effect other than knocking the wind out of their opponent.

Asterios did just that, but did not try to use his palm as it might hurt his wrist. He simply hurled his opponent towards a pile of weapons, and he crashed on them.

As the other celebrated, Asterios waited to see if his enemy would recover. He did not, and simply become immobile, as if dead. There was no way of telling if it was alive or not if they did not remove his mask, and they did so.

Underneath the armor was, however, not a human, but something akin to an automaton. As the technology was clearly far beyond what they knew, they simply thought of it as a very complex mechanism run by magic. Asterios then took the thing’s helmet and put it into a nearby pouch, where he simply tied it up.

Then, another surprising thing happened. As Asterios walked near the battle-axe, the handle glowed, apparently inviting the minotaur to take it. He felt that it was another trap, but he took it anyway. It came off the metal slab easily, and it was not as heavy as it looked. He handled it well.

“The axe was sealed,” said Artalos. “And defeating that…thing made it yours. I guess that test was for you, after all, Asterios.”

“Isn’t that a too much of a coincidence? I guess everyone here can take that axe.”

“You thought I can take that axe?” said Axan. “Are you kidding me?”

“Anyway. We must press on. I think it’s time to wake the librarian up.”

Phelas nodded and approached the human. He lightly slapped him and said, “Wake up.”

He woke up, groggily, at first, before he noticed a group of people in front of him. He then looked around, and saw weapons.

“Oh, hey,” said the librarian slowly. “What’s…going on?”

“We’re in the armory,” said Artalos. “You missed out a lot”

“Missed out? I remembered a sharp pain on the back of my head. Ow…it still stings.”

“Impulsive?” said Asterios towards Axan.

“Not yet. We are not in danger, so he is still okay.”

“Danger?! Where?” said the librarian while darting his head across the room.

“See?”

Asterios sighed, and approached the librarian. “Hey. What’s your name,” he asked.

“P-Philedas,” said the librarian.

“Philedas, huh? My name is Asterios. We may stay and chat, but we need to move. Are you well enough to stand?”

Philedas nodded, and was helped to stand by the minotaur.

“Now, we need to retrace our steps. I suggest we go back and look around for a while.”

Everyone agreed. After taking some recommended weapons for the civilians, they all walked back from where they came. There was, however, a surprise for them.

The walkway back was blocked halfway through. There was a message at the door: no turning back.

“I guess there is no other way but to move forward,” said Asterios with a sigh.

After the armory came another room, this time it was a smith’s workshop. Altaros quickly realized that the workshop was deserted, as if for a long time. One noticeable aspect of its abandonment was the accumulated dust and cobwebs. The furnace was out, and the ash was cold, as it was not used. The most glaring and surprising issue was the amount of rusting iron, which quickly alarmed Altaros.

“No good blacksmith uses rusting iron,” said Altaros while picking up an iron rod. “It will cause the sword to become brittle and break down upon use. This place is not used in a long time. A very long time.”

“How can you tell?”

“Let’s suppose the labyrinth is a magical cave system where you cannot go back whence you came. The place is not that humid, but I can still feel some of those waters. Something like this might happened for two or three years in a place like Crete, but in a cave? I don’t think this is a recently made prison.”

“But that guard said…”

“That guard simply don’t know, or given false information.” He then dropped the rusting metal. “There is nothing for us here. We should press forward.”

Like the entrance, there was a branching way, one going towards the ‘Swimming Pool’ and the other towards a ‘Greenhouse’. Both were unfamiliar words, yet they were clearly Minosian and both Asterios and Phelas could read the jumbled words, but they did not make any sense to them.

Feeling that the swimming pool was harmless (since it was for swimming, after all), they all decided to go there. A green house seemed weird, but a house could have many hidden things that they did not want.

They walked through the same corridor, and each tried to know each other more, slowly becoming less constrained and more open of their own history, knowing very well that they would not be able to survive forever. The talks, however, quickly stopped when they reached a room that looked like a bathhouse (to them).

“Huh. It’s nice to see one after that gruesome experience,” said Asterios. “But…I don’t this is the time to take a bath. The whole place might have a trap waiting for us.”

They knew it was a shame to let go of something that might refresh them, but with a possibility of a trap and something else, they simply decided to play safe and move along. They somehow did not notice a small sign near a pillar that said, “Refresh and relax. You’ve done a great job.”

After the went through the other door. Philedas, who was thinking about the previous room, started to think that it was not a trap, but instead, a genuine place to rest.

“I don’t think that place is dangerous,” said Philedas. “It might just be a relaxation room.”

“Don’t take chances. That’s the first rule of surviving in a dungeon,” said Phelas.

“Oh.” He seemed disappointed. “Alright, then.”

The next room they went after simply gave them the choice of Hallways A, B, and C. The rest of the group remembered Hallway B being one of the choices at the start. It seemed that their choices eventually caused a loop, and Axan surmised that, if they kept guessing the right area, they might not be caught inside a trap and would end up at the entrance hall. If they had reached that place, the ‘magic’ of the place would eventually give them a chance to get out as they would choose one of the branching pathways.

Everyone agreed on Hallway B being their safest bet, knowing that it was one of the choices. They took that way and walked through the corridor, apparently safely, until something happened.

They felt the corridor started to tip, and everyone but Philedas managed to grab hold of the stones. The librarian was sliding down a dark pit before he managed to grab Asterios’s hooved leg.

“Is everyone alright?!” exclaimed Phelas. “Philedas?!”

“I’m almost in the dark pit! Asterios, help me!” said Philedas, starting to panic.

“Calm down, man! Try and climb my leg!” said Asterios.

“I can’t! I’m slipping!”

“Don’t think about slipping and climb! Come on, Philedas!”

Philedas tried to muster his strength to climb, but he wasn’t accustomed to climbing, and his strength started to leave him. His grip on the minotaur’s leg was weakening. He quickly got an idea. He pulled out his axe, which was apparently light enough to be handled with one hand, and with every ounce of his strength, jammed it on the floor in front of him, which started to become a wall. He then let one of his hand free as he gripped the handle tightly.

“Take my hand, Philedas!”

The librarian did not think twice. He quickly took the minotaur’s big hand. Then, with the strength of a bull, Asterios grunted and threw Philedas up to where Phelas was, and the human helped him grab the pit’s edge. The librarian then helped Phelas up, before the human warrior helped Axan.

Then another surprise happened. In front of them, a slow-moving wall started to approach them, and behind them, the way they had been through was sealed off. There was no other way to go except down, as the hallway was only a one-way. They were trapped.

“No!” said Philedas. His breathing became irregular as he was overwhelmed with fear. “I can’t die like this! Please, you have to get me out of here!”

“Panicking isn’t going to make it easier!” said Phelas. “We only have one way, and I am going to risk it! We need to climb down.”

“What?! But we just…”

“Better than being squashed!”

“But it’s going to be dark down there!”

Phelas took a torch from the wall before it turned into the wall, keeping them illuminated as the wall started to come towards them.

“Satisfied? Get down there, now!”

Philedas quickly obliged. He started climbing down and felt his footwraps on a jutting piece of stone for him to step on. Phelas came down next, still holding the torch on his hand. He barely made it as the wall closed in and groaned to a halt.

“Well, now that’s just great,” said Artalos. “We’re trapped in darkness, and we are tired.”

“I don’t,” said Killian. “But I can’t see much, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re a climber?” asked Asterios, trying to make things less tense.

“Basilisks are natural climber, and runner,” said Killian. “If I can use my eyes and not end up petrifying anyone.”

“Petrify?” said Phelas. “Are you somehow related to the Gorgon sisters?”

“Who are they?”

“They’re…ah, it doesn’t matter. I won’t blame you for not trying to tell us about it, but we don’t want any secrets.”

“Sorry.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the torch, they stayed in silent as they were trying to hold themselves up. It wasn’t a tiring situation, but it was certainly a tense one. There were seven of them, trapped in a narrow vertical shaft that looked almost like a well, and full of fear. They had no idea what would come next, and they would not want another wall-crushing trap in the darkness. It would be terrifying to say the least.

Just then, Axan, who was closest to the top, noticed something on the ceiling. It was hard to come across since the only light was flickering. So, he asked Phelas the torch, to try and read the carving.

“The danger is not what it seems,” said Axan. “What does that mean?”

“Is the wall above going to recede?” said Altaros. “Is that what it meant?”

“I don’t think the wall’s going to move for a while. We might get tired before that happens,” said Phelas. “But the danger is not what it seems? I know that we need to risk and brave a trap, but which trap?”

Asterios, who was at the bottom, was having a hard time putting his hooved leg on the rock. Unlike a human’s toes, it had no grip, and he slipped on one when it broke off. But then, something curious happened. He would think that it would fall down the chasm for a while before hitting something, but instead, the rock, disappearing into the darkness, seemed to be stuck on the wall. It fell for a while before it stopped with a slight thud.

“That’s odd,” he said. Curious, he started to lower his leg. Somehow, he felt his leg fell sideways, and he did not feel falling anymore. This surprise cost him his other grip, and he started sliding down rapidly.

The others shouted his name, trying to at least have his attention vainly. Just as he disappeared into the darkness, away from the lights of the torch, he started to speak.

“This is impossible! I am standing upright on a wall!” exclaimed Asterios.

“What?” asked Hasnur, who was above him.

“Come down, Hasnur! It’s alright. A bit dark, but it can be fixed.”

Hasnur obliged and started climbing down. He started to feel his weight changed from being pulled down to being pushed towards the wall. He then dared himself to release his grip, and he suddenly felt himself hugging the wall, or more specifically, laying on the ground.

“This is peculiar,” he said. “By the gods! This is very peculiar! It is like you said, Asterios! I am standing on a wall!”

“What are you two talking about down there?”

“Throw me that torch and let me show you.”

Phelas was reluctant to plunge them into darkness, but obliged when he heard Asterios being so sure. He threw it down, and like a surprise, it suddenly became ‘attached’ to the wall, yet it was rolling down vertically, until it reached Hasnur’s paws. He simply lifted it and showed the rest of the group that they were standing on the wall.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Axan. An idea came rushing into his head. “The danger is not what it seems! We do not know what’s beyond the darkness, and our mind started to assume the worst! It was in fact something that can save us!”

Axan gleefully jumped down towards the two, but the sudden change of gravity caused his back to grind against the wall, causing him pain. Asterios pulled him up and asked if he was alright.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” said Axan. “Now I got scratches.”

Killian, Phelas, Altaros, and Philedas then climbed down slowly until they felt the change, before the stood up.

“This is such a peculiar experience,” said Altaros. “Now I am not sure if we are standing on the wall or on the floor!”

“I have a feeling this is not the last of it,” said Asterios, holding up the torch. “And I hope this bizarre place will make sense after a while. I am clearly mistaken.”

Brushing off their recent surprise, they started walking the dark corridor, huddling close together as it was dark. It was like exploring a tomb as the walls were clean and tidy, unlike the natural caves.

A while later, they opened into a large area of sorts, which was clearly a different place altogether. Unlike the previous rooms, however, it was well-lit, and the roof seemed to be opening into some sort of a sky, but it was clearly not their sky. The ‘sky’ was red, as if lit by fire, and it had some sort of a hostile glow present on it. It wasn’t soothing, yet it did not seem to be a dangerous thing.

The other thing that caught their attention was a sound, or more specifically, someone’s voice. They all turned to see a human sitting in front of his stuff, crafting stuffs and mumbling to himself. Their presence did not seem to grab his attention.

The first thing that came across their mind was that the human, like them, was a prisoner before them. But when Phelas wanted to ask him, Altaros quickly approached him and said, “Daedalus! So, you’re also here!”

“Of course, I’m here,” said Daedalus, still playing with his stuff. “Come on then, sit down. Any of you want some tea?”

“Tea?” asked Phelas confused. “Like those in the East?”

“Oh, yes, please, if you might,” said Killian, apparently understanding what Daedalus wanted to offer.

“Would you care to wait for a moment more? I am finishing the dimensional stabilizer. It is quite vital for me to…”

He abruptly stopped his work and turned up, towards the others.

“Oh, hello, there,” he said with a smile among his white beard. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Eh, what name did you call me? ‘Daedalus’?”

“Yes, Daedalus!” said Altaros. “Do you remember me?”

“Who are you again?” He then noticed Altaros’s clothes and said, “Late Antiquity. Blacksmith…oh, no. This can’t be happening!”

“What can’t be happening?”

“This is not supposed to happen. I…what happened out there? Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We could say the same thing to you, old man,” said Axan. “I know Daedalus, but he’s clearly not you.”

“Really? How can you be so sure about that? I have been known with many names, and I simply chose one because he existed in the timeline. And…oh my.”

He approached Altaros.

“You’re a blacksmith, clothes seemed Cretan.” He turned towards the minotaur. “The minotaur’s wearing warrior’s clothes.” He turned towards Killian. “A basilisk? Wearing that kind of clothes? Late antiquity it is, then.”

“Are you sure he’s right in the head?” asked Phelas to Altaros.

“He can be quite weird sometimes, but this takes the cake.” Altaros approached Daedalus and took him by his collar, which was an anachronistic leather jacket and white shirt.

“I know you are Daedalus even with that much beard, old man. Talk before I…”

“Okay, I’ll talk! There is no point in violence, isn’t it, Altaros?”

“Good that you remember my name.”

“It just rings the bell, you know. Trapped here for decades can sometimes make you forget, especially if you’re 800 years old.”

“I’m sorry, did I hear that right? Eight hundred years?” asked Axan.

“I’m not that old, you know. Someone I knew lived up to ten thousand,” said Daedalus. “Nice fellow, he was. Liked to joke and…”

He turned towards the group again.

“Oh, no…you overheard everything,” said Daedalus. He then took a sharp inhale and said, “Right! Now, I guess my trick backfired.”

“Trick?”

“I remember what happened. You see, I was trapped in this era when my machine broke. I somehow happened to meet with Aegeus the Mad and well, history recorded that he would meet Daedalus. That’s the trouble with time travel, you see. You might be involved in an event, or you may not. I was the former, and he forced me to devise a plan involving a prison where no one would be able to come out. Turned out I got everything, but I needed to stretch time, so I programmed the machine to make things faster on the outside shell. Ten years had passed when I only got, well, three days inside. I claimed that everything was done, and he gave me his signature thanks, by throwing me into my own ‘creation’.”

“Then why are you lost for decades while we only lost you for a year outside?”

“The shifter broke, and instead of causing time to move faster outside, it moved faster inside. I don’t feel like doing that at the moment, but I managed to keep the time shift as close as possible. Machine’s a little bit knackered, you see. Old, but very reliable.”

“Like a sword that has seen a lot of battles,” said Asterios. “Except it’s repaired by a shoddy blacksmith.”

“If you put it like that. Now, I am trying to fix the dimensional stabilizer. It seems that my trick caused the whole thing to blow up and spread my whole interior everywhere.”

“Is that why we come across your armory and your bathhouse?” asked Phelas.

“Bathhouse? Weird, I don’t remember…ah, you mean the swimming pool,” said Daedalus with a smile. “I wondered where it went. I was barely able to reach this place. Good thing I place a dimensional ‘bridge’ to keep me from getting lost.”

“Bridge?”

Daedalus took them to a nearby hallway, where, unlike the rest of the place, but like the first hallway branch, it was covered in red, and quite fuzzy, too, like a rug.

“Red carpet. I guessed that the red string won’t do me good, so why don’t I get a red carpet for directions instead. You did see this red carpet, didn’t you? You were thrown in from the front door, after all.”

“Now that you mentioned it, the hallway leading to the garden was red,” said Axan. “And we didn’t think of it.”

“Simply because you did not read the sign behind your head. You ended up getting into troublesome rooms. Ah, but the good thing is, you all survived, and now we can start something else.”

“Something else?” asked Altaros. “Look, Daedalus. It’s good to see you alive and well, but we need to get out.”

“No, you don’t,” said Daedalus, suddenly turned serious. “You won’t survive out there.”

“It’s the king, isn’t it?”

“I started to remember all of you from Crete. You clearly don’t agree with Aegeus’s warmongering ways and tried your best fight for peace. Look at what it gets you. You’re lucky he’s quite a sadist. If not, you’re not even standing here, talking to me.”

“Then what should we do?”

“Help me stabilize my machine, and reverse the time shift flow. For you, Minosians, consider this a quest.”

“And why should we consider it one?”

“You like danger, yes? My machine is centuries old, and it never stopped growing. Dangerous creatures of my private zoo had escaped and mutated, along with rogue machines. With you two, I feel it is enough. Now, I want you to fetch me this thing.”

Daedalus produced a picture of a contraption of sorts, which Asterios took.

“Find my console room. Follow the red carpet until you reach the end. Do not stray from it, or you will be lost in this infernal place. You are lucky to have meet me, but the next time won’t be so lucky.”

“Then why create this thing in the first place?”

“Because it wasn’t mine, and it clearly broke down. This thing is five times older than I am,” said Daedalus with a sigh. “Now is not the time to talk about it. Now, the rest of you. Stay in this room and let me brief you on your jobs…”

Phelas and Asterios walked away, but Killian followed them when he sensed them leaving. The two Minosians the traversed down the red carpet towards their destination, and found out that the basilisk was following them.

“Killian?” said Asterios when he found the basilisk behind them. “Why aren’t you back there?”

“I want to help, alright. He said there are creatures let loose in this labyrinth. I can help ease things up, provided they have eyes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My eyes. The Basilisk Gaze is a dangerous ability, but if used correctly, it can assist,” said Killian. “I don’t want to accidentally petrify you back there, during critical times, but now that we have a set objective, I can help effectively. Just let me go at the front and never, ever look directly into my eyes.”

“Like the Medusa’s Gaze,” said Asterios. “Will it turn us into stone?”

“Not stone. Flesh statues. Now, enough questions. I can hear some of them coming.”

Asterios could hear a four-legged creature coming towards them, as did Phelas, and they readied their weapons. Two wolf-like creatures, covered in scales, quickly stop their path, but when they started to try and pounce Killian, they did not move. The two were confused as to what they were doing.

“Come on. They may be petrified, but not for long.”

“Petrified?” Phelas touched one of the creature. It was clearly alive, and was straining to move, but it could not, like being bound by invisible ropes.

“What did you do, Killian. Is it the…”

“No, wait!” Killian quickly shut his eyes. “My eyes will petrify you! I can’t control it yet.”

“Yet?”

“There is a training to shut off the Gaze, but I did not have the time to take it. If you two caught my eyesight…you’ll end up like them.”

“How about a mirror? Will it cancel the effect?”

“No, it won’t.”

“So, you’re not the same race as the Gorgon sisters, then,” concluded Asterios. “Chthonic monsters are bad news, and your ability is also bad news.”

“We must press forward, and make haste,” said Phelas. “Killian may be able to protect us, but I doubt he can do that all the time. I don’t want to be caught off-guard.”

“Neither do I,” said Killian.

Back with Daedalus, he had just finished giving each of them their jobs. Altaros was tasked in restarting the workshop, which was apparently laced with magic. Axan would help Daedalus in crafting simple objects while Philedas sorted out important books (a foreign thing for him, as he never knew what a ‘book’ was, only scrolls).

For Daedalus, the fact that they came from late antiquity was troublesome. They had grasp for simple inventions and theories, but they clearly had no idea for complex stuffs. The only one he could rely on was Artalos, who was making the stuffs he requested once the workshop was up and running. Daedalus had simply flicked a switch for the room to come towards where they were.

Time seemed to be moving slowly for them, mostly because there was no day/night cycle present in the labyrinth. They simply took a rest when they were tired, and resumed work afterwards. There was no rush, and food seemed infinite. They could only wait for Asterios, Phelas, and Killian, and they had been gone for a while.

Then, after a long period of silence, they were all surprised by a loud noise, and Daedalus being thrown away from where he was working. He was dazed, almost unconscious, but after Altaros called his name, he recovered slowly.

“I did it,” he said slowly. “Now, we’re moving faster than they are.”

“You mean…”

“Now I can tell you one more secret. It’s a good thing the Minosians are not here. They might get distracted.”

Daedalus pulled a lever and a monitor opened from the wall, startling everyone there. He then pushed a button and it went on, showing the destruction and the aftermath of a war. It then showed the royal palace in ruins, and Aegeus and his advisor, Thionidas, dead among the rubble. People were scattered around for a moment, but then they started converging in the town square, attending a soldier standing on a podium.

“The war’s over,” said Daedalus. “Crete lost.”

“Lost? How? I thought our defenses…”

“Your defense may be great, but remember the Minosians’ secret weapon. Two of them are out there trying to get me an important item.”

“They finally mobilize their mercenaries,” said Alterios with a grunt. “That much soldier can cripple everything.”

“And Aegeus was too stubborn to pull his soldiers back in a false hope of pyrrhic victory. Instead, he was killed by his own home and the war’s over.”

“And the Cretans?” asked Philedas. “What will become of them?”

“They’ll survive, and their descendants will still live on, as Minos survived the Great War, and continued on without losing its culture.”

“The Great War?”

Daedalus appeared to start and say something, but then he seemed to realize that he was wrong, and said, “Oh, sorry. You should not have known that.”

As they talked, both Asterios and Phelas managed to reach the console room, but another surprise happened upon them. The console room was dilapidated, as if it had been abandoned for a very long time. Most of its interior had deteriorated and many parts had broken apart. More importantly, however, was that it was overgrown.

The only thing that seemed to work in that place was something on a table in the middle of the circular room, which was blinking and spoke Daedalus’s voice. Phelas quickly approached it while Asterios, brandishing his axe, took guard.

“Daedalus! This is a ruin, not the room you mentioned!” said Phelas.

“Ruin? Oh, no. Find the thing I need and get back here immediately!” said Daedalus with a hint of panic. “Now, Phelas!”

The urgency of the old man’s tone quickly convinced Phelas that it was dangerous. Asterios, who listened in but did not get involved in the conversation, quickly tried to find the object Daedalus was talking about.

“Daedalus, where is the object located?” asked Phelas while searching with the minotaur. “If it is an urgency, we need to narrow our search as soon as possible.”

“Better now than never, human,” said Asterios. “I think it’s starting.”

As if prompted, the whole room started to decay rapidly. It wasn’t apparent at first, but Phelas noticed, in alarm, that one of the pillars, which had the color of cooper yet was not simply one, started to crumble. Asterios managed to catch the falling pillar before it caused more damage, and before it crushed Killian. It wasn’t that heavy for his kind.

“Thanks,” said Killian.

“Don’t mention it.”

Phelas quickly turned and tried to find the object, a spherical object with a strange symbol on top of it.

Daedalus, who heard the crashing and breaking sound, became determined and started fidgeting and operating the object in front of him, made of lever and buttons. The others stopped what they were doing upon seeing Daedalus’s face, a serious face determined to finish his work at all costs. Altaros returned to his work when he felt the rising heat of the workshop.

“I must get that object,” muttered Daedalus, but then he realized the context of that sentence and said, “I cannot let them burden my conscience. I must save them. I must!”

“Daedalus, what happened to them?” asked Axan, approaching the old man.

“The shifter,” said Daedalus. “It is made from junk from my workshop.”

“That place?” said Axan while pointing at where Altaros was working.

“No, not that place. I have another one with more…advanced tech. It’s easy to create a Time Shifter. It’s like a high school project. It’s even better to know that I created it from junks lying around my workshop. The reliability of that thing, however, is not proven.”

“What do you mean?”

“To say it simply, it is very unstable, and that console room is right at the worst end of the accelerated time. Instead of ten years, a thousand years passed in there, except, of course, those three.”

“Why not them?”

“I’ll explain to you later after I save them. Let me concentrate.”

Asterios, Phelas, and Killian frantically tried to find the object Daedalus showed them, but it was no use. The place was crumbling faster than they could find it, and they were going to die if they did not save themselves first.

Then, as if by luck, Killian’s eyes found the same object that was in the picture. He tried to grab it, but it was too far from him, so without thinking, he jumped and catch it. The cabinet quickly crumbled, as did the floor, making the basilisk lose his footing. He realized his mistake a moment too late, and hoped for the best by trying to throw the spherical object upward as he fell, intending to sacrifice himself.

Just then, he heard a voice.

“Close your eyes and hold that thing tightly.”

Killian did what the voice told him, and he felt himself getting lighter. No, in fact, he was suspended. He dared not open his eyes, for he was well aware of that voice, and the hand strong enough holding him up.

Right at that moment, Daedalus finished a circuit, and quickly pulled a lever. There was a humming sound before the three travelers materialized in that room, startling everybody. They were huddling together, expecting the worst, before Daedalus approached them and said, “Eureka.”

“What?” said Asterios as he opened his eyes. “What form of magic is this? We were in that crumbling room a while ago, and the next thing is…”

“A little teleportation.” Right at that moment, the machine that saved them exploded. Daedalus sighed. “Not surprising, but still, a shame.”

He then turned towards the three, quickly noticing the spherical object. He unceremoniously snatched it from Killian’s hand and put it on a bowl-like surface, where the sphere fit perfectly. It quickly lit up, and made flickering lights as a soft hum was heard.

Daedalus then operated the machine he had spent his time building, pushing the lever up as the soft hum slowly became louder and louder, until it reached peak noise. The old man stopped his operation, then turned towards one of the rooms, where Artalos was.

“Have you finished my request, Artalos?” he asked.

“Aye, Daedalus. Just about.” He then pulled the object Daedalus requested: a long, sword-like contraption.

“Perfect. Now, turn off everything and get to the center. I’ll get everyone out of here.”

As Daedalus operated the machinery, an explosion happened right in front of his face. He was not hurt as he was away from it, but he made a grim expression Asterios could describe as ‘a very bad omen’.

“Oh, no, no, no! Junks everywhere!” he said while putting out the fire. “This is an utter disaster!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Philedas.

“I messed up. Now, unless I hold the lever up, we won’t be able to get out of here. I’d stay behind, but without me, I doubt any of you can operate this delicate machinery!”

“One of us must stay behind,” said Phelas. “Then I’ll do it.”

“No, Phelas,” said Asterios. “I’ll stay.”

“What? But Asterios…”

“He’s right,” said Daedalus. “He can hold the lever. It has been stuck downward and holding it up is easy for him. For a human…well, we won’t get far before you’re exhausted.”

“Any guarantee that I won’t die?” asked Asterios. “It would be a waste for everyone if I end up getting wiped out by your broken contraption.”

“There is a kitchen with processed food nearby. It can sustain you for 20 years or so. Just remember. Follow the red carpet. I know you want to explore, but do not stray away from that path. I will return to you, if I am able.”

“I do not have the confidence, Daedalus, but thank you.”

Asterios then turned to Phelas and gave him a crest. “Phelas, give this crest to my slave. You’ll recognize him when you get in town and into my mercenary guild. He’s the only manticore in there. Tell him to keep it safe, that one day I will return to him.”

“But, Asterios,” said Axan. “Why can’t you just…”

“Minosians do not let their slaves be free, even after their master’s death,” said Phelas. “Unless they are given to someone else, they will have to join a mercenary guild. It’s a sad truth, but it’s our way of life.”

“I’ll promise to get you back and deliver that message. Oh, and Asterios. Don’t be surprised. You’ll never what the world outside will be when you do go before I return. And uh…thank you.”

Asterios did not reply, but he got the message. He was already busy in holding up the lever, amidst sparks of electricity around him. His fur was singed, but he managed to hold on. It wasn’t a struggle for him due to his strength, but the injury caused by the malfunctioning portal was the real obstacle he needed to overcome.

Slowly but sure, the rest of the group disappeared, with Killian disappearing last. He waved his goodbye, calling Asterios’s name, but it was inaudible as he, too, disappeared. Asterios smiled to himself and let the lever go. It fell to its locking position with a thud and burned off. The minotaur, as if by instinct, realized something wrong and jumped away from it as it exploded, taking out a structure with it, and exposing a treasure chest underneath. The minotaur smiled.

“Quite a present,” said Asterios to himself. “And I suppose it can wait. Now, let’s find a way out in the meantime, shall we?”

Asterios then walked towards a nearby exit, following the red carpet as he walked to places unknown.

The rest were teleported into a room, where Daedalus quickly changed his mood from serious to joyful. He slapped a table in the middle of the room and kiss it, before sitting on a quite comfy chair made out of leather. He then cracked his knuckles.

“Oh, it’s good to be back with her,” said Daedalus, grinning. “I’ve missed her already.”

“Daedalus, where are we?” asked Phelas. “And Asterios? What happened to him?”

“Staying alive, if he’s smart. I hope. Asterios may have been a bull, but he’s smarter than many other humans. Now, for you all, welcome to my ship.”

“Ship?”

“Harder to explain to you since your concept of a ‘ship’ is a wooden log, so to speak. This here is a ship that can take us anywhere in time and space, provided it behaves.”

There were flickering lights on the console.

“Now, I suppose you want to know what happens to Asterios, hmm?”

“Why don’t you save him.”

“I…can’t,” said Daedalus. “The Labyrinth I created is good. Too good, in fact. Once you’re out, you will never be able to get inside through the same entrance, and there are many entrances around the world, if the programming went wild and caused alternating creation and deletions of rooms, which, frankly, is very troublesome.”

“You mean, he’s trapped in there forever?”

“Never. It’s never the fate of everyone. You cannot confine someone forever. Asterios will find a way out, either through me, or from luck. It’s just the question of where, and when. He might end up far from Minos or Crete and ended up lost in time. He…will be alone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I will promise you this, Phelas. I will get him out of there.”

“Still, he’s trapped in there. That’s a fact.”

“Yes. Right now, he’s a Minotaur in the Labyrinth…oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“That legendary tale,” murmured Daedalus. “It all started here. There’s always a version of it somewhere in the universe and in time. It all started on Sol 3. Never would’ve thought a backwater planet like this could inspire such tale.”

He then noticed the others.

“Right. Let’s get to it, then. Back to Minos, then, it’s the matter of you joining me in my travel or not.”

“Joining you?”

“It’s a choice, really. Not something I force you upon, but it’s a great way to learn.”

“Then, I guess I am in,” said Axan. “I always longed for an adventure.”

“As do I,” said Phelas. “It will be the most glorious of quests.”

“Well, Crete is gone, so…I guess going with you won’t be a problem,” said Phelas.

“When do we start?” said Altaros.

Daedalus smiled, and operated the buttons in front of him. “Now,” he said. A viewing screen opened in front of them, showing a vortex of sorts, within a cloud, and colored orange.

“Just one question,” said Phelas. “What do we call you? Is Daedalus okay?”

“Daedalus, Gene, John, Antonus…pick one. The universe just calls me the Anonymous Traveler, and yes, I am anonymous.”

“Still,” asked Philedas. “Who are you?”

Daedalus smiled. “Exactly,” he said. He pulled a lever, and the ship zoomed off to the unknown, the start of an adventure.