The Minotaur moved as stealthily as he was able. His harsh breath misted in front of him as he tried in vain to contain it. Ahead it could hear the laboured breathing and soft moans of his victim. It was in pain, the Minotaur decided. Shame he had anticipated a good hunt.
As he approached the Minotaur decided to drop all pretences of stealth. He straightened and allowed his hooves to clack on the stone floor and his horned head to scrape the low ceiling. His victim must have heard his approach, its moans and grunts became laced with fear. The Minotaur paused, enjoying the new sounds before leaping out in front of his victim and letting out a fearsome roar.
He was disappointed. His victim was lying in the shadows of a corner. It smelt strongly, like they sometimes did after the Minotaur had chased them for awhile, and its stomach was heaving in an unusual manner. In fact there was something very unusual about this one. Usually they screamed and ran, or tried to jab bits of metal into him. Never had one seemed so...calm at his appearance.
Not that it wasn’t scared, it was, the Minotaur could tell in the way its eyes lingered over his wicked horns and jagged teeth. The Minotaur moved closer until he was standing over it. It seemed to struggle vainly and only then did the Minotaur realise that it didn’t run because it couldn’t. It was enormously fat; its stomach must be weighing it down.
It let out an abrupt shriek of pain and the Minotaur flinched before gingerly rolling it over, searching for an injury. There was none. Oh well, best eat it then before it dies. The Minotaur reached down to seize the thing. It let out an agonised scream and the Minotaur withdrew its hand sharply. There was a wet noise. It lay still. The Minotaur poked it. It didn’t move. It had died. The Minotaur snorted in annoyance.
Suddenly there was a new sound. The Minotaur had no prior experience to tell him what it was. Like the screams they sometimes made only different…more demanding. The Minotaur craned its head down till its horns scraped on the wall. In between the legs of the fat thing was another…thing. It was much smaller peering around at its surroundings, and making the noise. It was a very annoying noise. The Minotaur considered crushing it beneath a cloven hoof, but some instinct stopped it. Instead it sat against the wall and tore an arm off the dead thing. As it chewed it stared at this New Thing.
The New Thing continued to wail. The Minotaur finished his arm. As it did it suddenly occurred to him that the New Thing might be hungry. The Minotaur reached aside and tore a lump of flesh of the dead thing before slamming the lump down in front of the New Thing. The New Thing seemed at a loss. It looked at the lump of flesh, then at the Minotaur. The Minotaur stared back. It pressed its mouth against the lump and began to suck.
(It is totally up to you how grotesque this is. I really did not intend it to mean that at the time. Please just take it at face value.)
The Minotaur finished its meal and looked back to see the New Thing watching him. He bent down and, ever so gently, picked up the New Thing. Holding it with tender arms the Minotaur moved deeper into the labyrinth.
My first memories of life involve darkness. In the labyrinth there is little natural light and most of my early years took place in a light just above total darkness. My early life was happy but the actual details may disgust some. My father, though I never thought of him so, and I hunted those given to us in the darkness. Revelling in their fear and feasting on their flesh. It was a simple and satisfactory life.
I think my first unhappy moment was when we were in a section of the labyrinth which was more brightly lit. It had collapsed at some point in the past and water was seeping in from somewhere. I was aware that I was smaller than my father but as I passed the water I caught sight of my own reflection. I went back to look more closely. My father loomed over me. I felt where my horns should be. I stroked my strange patch of hair and my otherwise smooth skin before looking at my father in askance. He knew nothing, but after that we avoided well lit areas of the labyrinth.
Still I was happy. I sometimes wondered what our victims felt other than fear. I was never motivated enough to find out. Then the man came. A thing like the ones we hunted. But this one was very different. He wore a shiny metal coat and carried a large metal object that was both sharp and heavy. Well do I remember the sound of fighting echoing though the stone corridors of the labyrinth, and how my father bellowed in fear just before the object severed his head.
I had never experienced loss before. I returned to my father’s headless body thinking I would die now. For always he had been my protector. I could not survive by myself. This was true but not for the reasons I thought. The things that we had eaten stopped coming into the labyrinth. After four days I was ravenously hungry. After a week I was willing to venture out. I had always known where the things had entered the labyrinth. I stood at the beginning of the tunnel that led out.
The light was too bright. It my eyes ached and burned if I looked directly outside, but after some time passed the light dimmed to a more tolerable level. The sky terrified me but my ever increasing hunger was stronger, urging me onwards. I looked around for the things I usually ate. None were apparent; the labyrinth came out in a forest. I went looking, moving across the strange green floor and avoiding the pillars as much as possible.
Soon I encountered some barriers and after that a building. It was sort of like a small labyrinth. That thought comforted me immensely. I circled the building carefully, peering in the wall-holes. Smells that I had never conceived of floated out of it. I had no images to associate with the smells but they made my hunger curl up inside me and die. Or that was how it felt. I let out an agonised moan.
One of the things I usually ate came to the window. Seeing me it started and then reached out. I tried to back away from the wall-hole. But my hunger wouldn’t let me. He made some strange noises with his mouth. I couldn’t understand him but I made him aware of my hunger. The two of them made noises at each other. Then the first one motioned me inside.
That night was the first I spent in the trappings of civilisation. I ate some kind of meat stew (with my hands of course) before sleeping on a pallet of straw. Before I fell asleep I watched the things I used to hunt and kill make soft noises at each other. One of these things had killed my father I reminded myself. But that one had been so different. I wondered if some of the ones I had eaten had been like these ones.
The next bright light the things took me too the local church. First they had to convince me to wear a sackcloth dress. I didn’t understand why but wore it nonetheless. They then had to get me to go outside. I didn’t want to. The sky was huge; I thought I would fall into it. Luckily the day was overcast; while it was unpleasantly bright I could see. When I felt the cold wind blowing I realised what the dress was for. Of course it was to shield me from the wind. I communicated my delight to the thing who had given it to me. It smiled, I was stunned by the expression and tried to mimic it.
The church was the most impressive building I had seen. In reality it was a small place of worship, with a single steeple. To me however it was both huge and intimidating. They led me in the huge doors and I felt like running into the darkness, but there was no darkness. Just harsh unforgiving light everywhere. The things that had taken me in went and made mouth noises at another thing. He was a big thing. He stood at a stone square, and made mouth noises at the things that had brought me. I soon got bored and my attention wandered to some tapestries on the wall. They were images of thing I had seen, I realised.
One caught my attention. That was my father! I moved across to it quickly. My father was standing at the bottom of a pile of stones. On top of the pile was a thing surrounded in light and clothed in metal. He held one of the objects that had killed my father in his hands. Tears rose in me. Was this some kind of homage to the thing that killed my father? It was obvious that the thing was supposed to be superior by the way the image was arranged.
The big thing grabbed my arm. He made some mouth noises and gestured towards the tapestry. I snarled at him and pulled my arm away. I communicated to him that I wanted him to go away. As I did he started. Then he began to make the mouth noises again. But now I recognised them. Some of the things we killed made these noises. My father had always made me go around the corner when they did to protect me. There were no proper corners here, but there was much more space. I ran.
For a time I lived in the forest. I learned that the red meat from inside the things I had eaten could also be found in other furry things. For a time I just lived. The death of my father weighed on me heavily. Then one day as I snapped the neck of my next meal it occurred to me. I could find the man who killed my father. He was like this thing. I could snap his neck too. Yes I would break the Killer Things neck. At the time I did not truly consider the wisdom of that but it gave my life purpose.
I would have to find Killer Thing. I thought about that. He had an image dedicated to him in that building. So the things must know where he was. I would have to find some and follow them until they led me to him. With this worked out I began to travel. I had no real concept of how large the world was so I simply set off in a direction and (luckily) soon reached a town.
It was barely a town. More like a crossroads with an inn. Still it was more things in one place than I had ever seen. I watched there comings and goings for some time. Then as things quietened down I gathered my courage. Earlier I had seen a thing clad in metal as the Killer Thing had been enter the inn. I reasoned that if he was dressed in the same way he must know where the Killer Thing was. Quietly I snuck down to the inn and taking a deep breath entered.
So many things. Two sat in a corner, and wore hoods that hid there faces. They looked up as I entered before dismissing me and returning to their conversation. Another four things looked up and sniggered looking at me in a way that reminded me of the way the Big Thing had looked at me after I communicated with him. I tugged my tattered sackcloth dress around me. The man I was after was sitting with the largest group of things. They didn’t even register my entering. A thing behind a wooden counter made a mouth noise at me. I smiled at him and went to sit in the corner hoping they would ignore me.
The man behind the bar supplied some liquids to the four who had sniggered as I entered. They got louder and louder as he did so. The two things in the corner simply continued there quiet mouth noises. The metal clad thing was at a noise range between these. Its large group also ate some stuff which reminded me of the stew I had had once.
After some time the thing in the metal got up to leave. I followed suit and walked out the door. It was walking out along the road with the large group. I began to follow. Then something gripped my arm from behind. I turned. It was the second group of things from before. The one holding me made a mouth noise. I smiled and tried to escape his grip. He made another noise and held on tighter. I snarled at him. He made a noise at one of the men beside him. He made a noise back. I suddenly knew the fear of those I had hunted and killed. I slammed my fist into the arm holding me. The man yelled in pain and let go. I stumbled back, and crashed into the thing that had circled behind me while the one that had gripped me had held me.
The rest blurs in my mind. I swung my arms all around me, and wished my father was there. I was scratching a things face with my fingers then I was biting another’s collarbone as it bore me to the ground. It raised its hand above it to hit me in the face. Then “Stop”. My eyes widened in shock. It was communication. Like I used.
“Get off her” The thing on top of me stood, and backed away. I sat up, my sackcloth dress falling to tatters around me. I saw a thing standing there.
It stood just down the road from where we had been fighting; having obviously just strode out of the inn. I recognised it from inside. It still wore the hood that hid its face. In its left hand he held a long stick a little taller than his head. It had metal tips.
“I see you’re having trouble beating and raping a scrawny girl”, I stared in amazement. The thing was communicating as it made its mouth noises. I didn’t understand the concepts behind the noises but I understood that it was mocking my attackers; “Given your difficulty I doubt you want me to wade in” as it communicated this it swung its stick in a lazy circle.
One of my attackers made a harsh mouth noise. “Fine” communicated the thing quietly. It lifted its stick and pointed it at the thing that had made the noise.
I felt a great rushing. It filled my mouth and nose and ears till I was drowning in it. And I felt it rush into the thing. I felt it master it. It thrust its stick at the attacker that had made the harsh noise. It flew backwards as though my father had thrown it. It hit the ground and skidded along before stopping in a puddle. The other men turned and ran as one, making fearful mouth noises. The man in the puddle fled with them.
I watched them go then turned to the thing that had saved me. It looked down at me. It made a mouth noise at me. I despaired. Why wasn’t it communicating any more? I tried to communicate my anguish to my saviour…and encountered something I had never felt before. A wall seemed to encircle my saviours mind. I couldn’t break though it. As I redoubled my efforts a thing next to my saviour made a noise at him. I started, had he been there the whole time? And as I moved the wall around my saviours mind snapped, reversing and entrapping me within it.
I suddenly couldn’t move my body. My mind was trapped inside what seemed to be a bubble of will. I struggled and raged and finally, feared. I could do nothing against the merciless grip that held me.
“Now what do we have here?” came the communication. It seemed to emanate from the bubble. “A little girl with the ability to touch another’s mind?”, I didn’t understand. I proffered that feeling to the bubble, and felt it accept the emotion. “You can use your words you know” The bubble seemed a little amused. I still didn’t understand. “How can you not understand words?” a pause, I still didn’t understand “Well…no help for it I suppose”
Suddenly my mind began to work without my permission. It began to call random memories from my childhood. I felt the joy of every hunt I had ever been involved in and the anguish of my father’s death. Then my mind ran through the events since I left the labyrinth. The bubble suddenly deserted me. I was slammed into my body unceremoniously. Blinking I looked up from the ground. The two things were looking at me.
“And I thought my childhood was fucked up” communicated my saviour to the one I hadn’t noticed.
“No shit” it responded. They considered me for a second.
“The girls naked” observed my saviour. The unnoticed one began to laugh. I stood slowly, my legs bent to flee at any second. My saviour addressed me. “Come with us, we’ll get you some food and clothes”. I shrank away from it afraid it would trap my mind again. He sighed. “This is getting nowhere”.
I felt his mind touch mind and tried to shy away, but I had no concept of how to defend myself. He penetrated my mind and sat there for a second as though admiring the scenery before dumping a packet of information and retreating. It opened of its own accord and I staggered. My mind was suddenly filled with the beauty of language. I realised how foolish I had been.
“Did that work?” Asked my saviour interestedly, “It’s the first time something like that has ever been attempted, to my knowledge”
“Y…yes”, I looked at the two things. Men I knew, I was a woman or girl. I understood the physical differences now. I searched through my new vocabulary, “You…help…me?”
“Yes” said my saviour, “Come. We have food and clothes” he turned and walked back towards the inn. Then he turned as though remembering something, “Oh yes do you have a name? I’m Gideon” He turned to his friend, who had once again faded into the background, “That’s Sethur”.
I considered, “No…it was not…needed…before”.
“Well, we’ll call you Girl then” Gideon beckoned and then turned. Sethur followed and, after a few moments, so did I.
Gideon and Sethur fed and clothed me that night. I curled up in the inn’s back room, wearing the best set of clothes I had ever seen. They were two sizes to large. As I lay there Gideon and Sethur talked over my head and I became aware that Gideon had only gifted me with the bare necessities when it came to words. And much of my new knowledge was based off knowledge that I didn’t have, or couldn’t comprehend. So I listened attempting to fill in the gaps and before I knew it was asleep.
The next morning the two men were awake before I was. We went down stairs and payed the barkeep before heading out onto the road. I was nervous about seeing the men who had attacked me yesterday, but the one we did see bowed out of the way apologising vigorously to Gideon.
“I’m so sorry to have offended you my lord mage”
“You haven’t, though if you continue to grovel I may become offended” Gideon glared at the man as he scurried away. “Obsequious idiot” he muttered, “Do I look like a lord?”
As we travelled the number of people on the road grew. They seemed to be fighting men, soldiers, mostly. Some were clad in the metal that I now knew was called armour, while others carried spears or swords. It was a sword that had killed my father. As the tide of people grew I drew up some courage and asked where we were all going. Gideon looked back at me.
“Depends” he answered; he pointed back in the direction we had come “If they are going that way they are going to fight for Aristarchus” He then gestured in front of him, “If they are coming with us they are going to fight for Queen Adelie. This land isn’t controlled by either, so all the mercenaries headed here until they knew who they agreed with, or who was going to pay them more”.
I frowned at this, “What’s ‘paying’?” I asked.
Gideon looked back at me “I’m sure I gave you the meaning of paying” I nodded.
“Yes but I didn’t understand” I thought over the meaning he had given me, “So the mercenaries work for whoever gives them more money?”
Gideon nodded “And money is used to buy things like food and clothes”
I thought about this, “So who is paying more?”
“At the moment Adelie is offering more coin but Aristarchus is attacking so there will be more opportunities to pillage and rape”
“You think Adelie’s coin is worth more?”
“No” it was Sethur who answered this time. I started, I had forgotten he was even there, “We just think Aristarchus deserves to lose”
Something about his tone and the expression on Gideon’s face made me stop asking questions. We stopped that night an hour before the sun went down. We moved off the road and Gideon instructed me to fetch some wood for a fire. As I did so I wondered what a fire was. All Gideon’s information was telling me was that it gave off heat and light. When I returned carrying an armful of wood Gideon had made a ring out of small stones. I looked very carefully for Sethur, but this time he really wasn’t here.
“Sethurs gone hunting” he said answering my unasked question, “Bring that wood over here”.
I watched as he stacked the wood inside the circle he then reached inside his cloak and drew out a rock and a knife. I flinched when I saw the knife. He didn’t see me though and clashed the two objects together. Sparks
Grumbling and cursing Gideon stood and picked up his stick. His Quarterstaff. He pointed it at the wood. Once again I felt that strange rushing sensation that filled my senses and threatened to drown me. The wood caught alight. I stared at the flames in confusion, before looking at Gideon.
“What did you just do?”
Gideon shot a glance at me from the corner of his eyes; “I used magic” he spoke softly, so softly that I had to lean in to hear him properly.
“What does that mean?”
Gideon turned to look at me. “It means that I manipulated the winds of magic to obey my command” There was a slightly mocking tone in his voice “Or that is what the Circle would have you believe” he gave a short bark of laughter. “The fools think to prescribe a simple explanation to something infinitely complex, it’s a wonder they produce any worthy mages at all”
“So a mage is someone who uses magic?” Gideon nodded. I opened my mouth to ask a question then shut it. Gideon noticed my renitence.
“Feel free to ask whatever it is. If the question offends me I simply won’t answer” He stood and began to rummage in him knapsack.
“Well…” Gideon pulled a metal bowl out of the knapsack, “Do these winds of magic fell sort of like water? Filling your eyes and ears till its everywhere?”
“What?” Gideon’s disbelieving yelp echoed around our campsite, so too did the sound of the metal pot hitting the rocks on the edge of the fire and rolling in. Gideon swore and fished it out quickly with his staff. While he did so he muttered to himself shooting regular glances at me, “Stupid, stupid…Should have tested her…If she can touch another’s mind”. He retrieved the pot from the fire and sat down in front of me. “Close your eyes Girl”
“Why?” I asked suspiciously, shying away from him.
“Look it wont hurt, just close your eyes and sit still” Gideon sounded angry, though the anger seemed directed at himself rather than at me. I don’t know why but I did stop and I did close my eyes and Gideon touched my forehead with his pointer and middle finger.
The rushing feeling came again. It flowed around my ears and eyes. It was seeking a way in I suddenly realised. And it found one. Through Gideon’s fingers. I felt him take the energy from around us and push it into me. I struggled to escape from him but I was stuck to his fingers. And the winds of magic flowed inside me. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing but power came out.
Gideon spoke in my mind, “Calm, it’s not really pain, just a sensation you’ve never felt before. Take a deep breath and accept it”.
For a time I couldn’t do as he said. The feeling was everywhere. It prevented me from thinking. It robbed me of my control and my body moved in strange twitchy movements. But Gideon was relentless; he didn’t release me or stop funnelling the magic through me, “Stop fighting it” he instructed. I did. It took what seemed like hours but slowly my body stopped twitching; my breath stopped jerking in and out of me erratically. I took a deep breath and simply allowed the feeling free reign over my body.
Gideon suddenly removed his fingers from my forehead. I stayed in the position and slowly felt the magic recede from my body. When it was all gone I opened my eyes. Gideon was looking at me a pleased expression on his face, “You’re good. It takes most people hours to control it like that”.
I took a shaky breath, “I didn’t control it, I just let it…be”
“Yes. It takes most people hours to understand that magic is not for humans to control. It takes most people hours to simply be with the magic inside them. It took you 30 minutes”.
“No” It had seemed like hours. I scanned the horizon and sure enough there was still a faint glow from the sun.
“So she good”, this time I was not the only one to startle at Sethur’s sudden appearance.
Gideon blanched and swore, “Don’t do that” he instructed shakily.
“Do what?” Sethur grinned and threw a gutted and skinned rabbit at Gideon’s feet, “Cook woman”.
Gideon snarled wordlessly and began to cut the rabbit up into chunks. I reached for my share but he batted my hand away, “Calm minotaur girl I’ll cook it first”.
I pondered that for a second. The image I had in my mind seemed wrong. Sethur went and sat down opposite us across the fire. Gideon continued to cut the rabbit up and place it in the metal pot with some unidentifiable things from his knapsack. For awhile there was silence until the pot was sitting in the coals of the fire. Then Gideon sat and looked back over towards me.
“Well what do we do with you now” Gideon uttered more to Sethur than to me. He reached out and absently stirred the meat in the pot with a stick before continuing, “I won’t lie, last night Sethur and I discussed you, we planned on abandoning you when we reached Tygor”; He looked across at Sethur who was staring into the flames, “But given your talent I don’t think we can, You’ll just hurt yourself and others”
“Like we care” interrupted Sethur
Gideon ignored him, “Given that you have a few options. We can drop you off in the Circles outpost in Tygor”, he looked contemptuous, “Or I could find one of my friends from the old days and apprentice you to them”, he looked happier about this option. I nodded.
He flashed his eyes at Sethur and, almost, I felt some communication pass between them. “Or”, Gideon added as though it was an afterthought, “You could be my apprentice”.
On reflection it was unfair for him to ask this of me. At the time I had no idea what each choice would mean for me. I only had a shaky understanding of the word apprentice for gods’ sakes. In the end I think I made the decision based off fear of the unknown. Gideon’s opening of my mind had shown me that the world was no where near as small or safe as I had first thought. I reviewed words like war and rape in my mind and trembled.
So I looked Gideon straight in the eye and intoned with a sense of finality, “I want to be your apprentice”, and watched Sethurs shoot a look of smug satisfaction at Gideon’s almost fearful acceptance.
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