Grandma's Labyrinth

Chapter 14

The air felt heavier, dense with secrets and shadows that clung to the walls of the labyrinth as Elowen moved deeper into its winding corridors. Her breath echoed, reverberating softly off the stone surfaces, but it was the eerie silence that unnerved her the most. The familiar hum of the labyrinth’s presence had intensified, becoming something alive, a rhythm beating in tandem with her own pulse.

The passage ahead seemed endless, each step pulling her further into the depths of the labyrinth. Here, there were no shifting walls, no sudden turns to catch her off guard—just a straight path, stretching into a darkness that seemed to devour the dim light filtering through cracks in the stone.

This is different, she thought, glancing around. The maze felt less chaotic, more deliberate. It was as if the labyrinth was guiding her toward something, but what?

She pressed on, her footsteps quickening as the weight of unseen eyes seemed to follow her. The further she ventured, the more the air around her thickened, and the oppressive silence grew louder, filling her ears until it was almost unbearable. A chill ran down her spine, and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Her mind kept circling back to the figure from the mirror, the one that had emerged from the shadows of her past, forcing her to confront the parts of herself she had long buried. The warning it had given her still lingered: The labyrinth reflects your soul. But was it truly her soul she was facing, or something much darker?

Suddenly, the path before her opened up into a vast chamber, unlike any she had seen before. The ceiling was so high that it disappeared into darkness, and the walls were lined with ancient carvings, their intricate designs pulsating faintly with a soft, otherworldly light. The room felt ancient, as if it had existed long before the labyrinth had taken its current form.

In the center of the chamber stood an altar, its surface smooth and polished, reflecting the dim light that illuminated the room. Above it, suspended in midair, was a strange, glowing orb. The light it emitted was cold, almost unnatural, and it cast long, wavering shadows that danced across the stone floor.

Elowen approached cautiously, her eyes fixed on the orb. It seemed to pulse with an inner energy, and the closer she got, the more she could feel its pull—like a magnet drawing her toward it. Her heartbeat quickened, and she could feel a strange energy building in the air around her.

As she reached the altar, she hesitated, staring up at the orb. There was something about it—something familiar, yet alien. The energy it radiated was unlike anything she had ever felt before, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing the surface of the orb. The moment she made contact, a surge of energy shot through her, and the chamber around her seemed to warp and distort. The walls flickered, the carvings shifting and changing as if they were alive. The air grew colder, and a low, rumbling sound filled the room.

The orb began to glow brighter, its light intensifying until it was almost blinding. Elowen stumbled back, shielding her eyes as the light grew stronger, enveloping the entire chamber in its cold, unnatural glow.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the light dimmed, and the room fell silent once more. Elowen lowered her hand, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. The orb was gone, replaced by a swirling vortex of shadows, twisting and writhing in the air above the altar.

From within the vortex, a figure emerged.

It was the same figure from the mirror, cloaked in shadow, its face hidden beneath a dark hood. But this time, there was something different. The figure seemed more solid, more real, and the air around it crackled with energy.