Page 11 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
“I will save you, my sweet, don’t cry anymore, I am coming for you, through darkness and war. Rest now, my darling, the night is our friend, I’ll take you away, where the pain will end.”
five
Thorne
The chair beneath me groaned as I shifted, the jagged metal biting into my back, but I welcomed the discomfort; it kept my mind sharp. I let my fingers drum lazily on the armrest, eyes scanning the scrolls scattered before me on my desk in the throne room.. Petty intrigues, betrayal, whispers of rebellion. Always the same. The Maze was a kingdom of manipulation, and everyone played their part.
The fools that attempted to navigate its corridors. When will they learn, these pawns? They always become another failure. Their bones would make a fine addition to the ever-growing collection scattered throughout. But even the failures served a purpose. They were reminders, warnings to the next brave, or stupid, soul who thought they could challenge me.
As King of the Maze, I held dominion over this twisted realm. Each quadrant of the Maze was ruled by a lord of my choosing,each with its own unique domain and creatures, yet they all answered to me. I leaned over the vast map laid out before me, the lines crisscrossing like a spider's web. It was a cruel mockery of safety, each section more perilous than the last.
To the North lay the Shadows Quadrant, presided over by the enigmatic Lady Nyria. This territory was a realm of darkness, where shadows moved like living things, and traps lay hidden within the gloom. It was said that those who entered her quadrant seldom returned, their screams swallowed by the oppressive darkness.
During our recent council meeting, Nyria's voice sliced through the air like a dagger. “You cannot be serious, Thorne! Allowing a mortal to traverse the Maze? If word gets out, it will diminish the fear that keeps our enemies at bay. This is a sign of weakness!”
I met her gaze, unyielding, my fingers tightening around the armrest. “Do not concern yourself with Brielle. She is not your enemy. Should she wander into your quadrant, you will ensure no harm comes to her.”
Nyria scoffed, her arms crossing defiantly. “The Shade Hounds don’t discriminate against mortals or monsters. They will tear her apart just as easily. You think your obsession with this weak little mortal makes a difference to them?”
My patience frayed at her words. “If you can't control your dogs, then I must have underestimated your knowledge of running a quadrant. I may have to start considering a replacement for you.”
Her eyes blazed with indignation. “You would dare—”
“Do not test me, Nyria!” I snapped, my voice rising. Leaning closer, I let the weight of my glare settle on her. “This isn’t some trivial game you can dismiss. You will respect Brielle; mark my words. One day, she will be your queen! So get used to the ideaof bending a knee to her! You’ll find it’s less painful than the alternative.”
The finality of my words hung in the air, leaving no room for argument. Nyria’s expression morphed from anger to shock, and I could see the realization wash over her; my devotion to Brielle was a fire that would not be extinguished. Anyone who dared challenge it would find themselves consumed by the flames.
I leaned back, the tension of my encounter with Nyria still simmering in my veins. The lords needed to understand that Brielle was not a weakness; she was a future; a future I would protect at all costs.
To the East lay the Abyssal Quadrant, ruled by the morose Lord Varak. His domain was a nightmarish landscape filled with the bones of the fallen, where the air thickened with the scent of decay. Here, the Bone Golems roamed freely, animated by the remnants of past challengers. Lord Varak was an ally, but I never fully trusted him; his loyalty ebbed and flowed like the tides, and he would not hesitate to betray me if it served his purposes. Yet, in the end, he knew that defiance would only lead to his undoing. His place in the Maze depended on my rule, and I made it a point to remind him of that whenever we met.
To the South was the Heart of the Maze, my realm. This was where the Maze thrived, a living entity responding to my commands. The stone walls pulsed with dark energy, entwined with sinister vines that whispered secrets only I could hear. I manipulated the challenges faced by intruders, crafting their fates to ensure they understood the true nature of the Maze. It was here that I reigned supreme, maintaining the delicate balance of fear and respect that kept my enemies at bay. The lords understood that their power was granted by my will alone. Every heartbeat of the Maze was tied to my own.
Finally, to the West lay the Twilight Quadrant, overseen by the unpredictable Lord Thacket. His territory was filled withancient trees whose gnarled roots seemed to have minds of their own. Lord Thacket was a creature of chaos, unpredictable yet cunning. He was a master of illusions and deception, the very embodiment of mischief. In his quadrant, the Whispering Wraiths roamed—specters that could either aid or hinder those who wandered too close. Thacket delighted in the chaos of his realm, and while I appreciated his unpredictability, I knew better than to trust him completely.
Brielle will traverse only my quadrant, where she will be tested, but not in the brutal ways others have endured. The intent is not to bring her harm but to guide her through challenges that will unveil her strength, illuminating the truth that she can—and will—survive. She has never needed to depend on Henry; the trials she has faced in the past were burdens she was never meant to shoulder. I will not coddle her; the path ahead will demand her courage and resilience, but I refuse to let her perish. My heart, entwined with her fate, will ensure she emerges not only unscathed but transformed. My she wolf, my queen.
A warden entered, head bowed, his boots scraping against the stone as he knelt. "My King," he said, voice trembling with the kind of fear I enjoyed, "another two have failed. Their bones now litter the eastern quadrant but they moved through the North quickly. It appears defenses were lacking."
I barely acknowledged him, my fingers still tapping in a rhythmic beat. "Inform Nyria of her failure and tell her to Increase the difficulty in her quadrant," I ordered, my voice steady but laced with the sharp edge of command. " Tell her to make sure her beasts are hungry. It appears she is distracted. Remind her of her place."
The warden left, obedient as always. I sighed, leaning back in the chair.. The Maze was always hosting some form of chaos, challenging and deadly like the game I designed it to be. But attimes, it felt as though I was playing against myself, waiting for someone worthy enough to step into the ring. The Kings that lay beyond the borders of the maze all seek to make it through, sending their greatest warriors. The maze was a conquest to them, the magic it held was something they wished to control. Pitiful fools wouldn’t know what to do with it.
Henry’s incessant whining broke through the silence, grating against my nerves. From his cage, he looked more like a broken animal than the proud, pompous fool he had been when we’d first brought him here. His face was pale, streaked with dirt, and his voice had grown hoarse from hours of shouting at me.
“They’ll come for me,” he rasped, clinging to the bars as if that would somehow grant him power. “You’ve started a war, you—”
“Shut up,” I interrupted coldly, not even bothering to look at him. “You’re not worth a war, Henry. You’re barely worth the space your pathetic cage takes up.”
He gripped the bars harder, “You don’t understand! My king—"
“Your king?” I finally looked at him, a slow smile creeping onto my face. “The same king who hasn’t sent anyone for you? The same king who probably considers you more of a liability than an asset at this point?” I rose from my throne, striding toward his cage with slow, deliberate steps. “I took you, Henry, because you were in the way. Not because you're special.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done,” he spat, trembling. “They’ll come for me. They have to.”
I almost rolled my eyes so hard it hurt, “You really are so repetitive, honestly Henry, you’re insufferable.” I tilted my head, inspecting him as if he were some curious little insect. “You were nothing in your town but a bully, a man who used his power to control and manipulate those under him. No one admired you, no one cared about you or your flashy armor. You were nothing there and you’re nothing here. Just a pain in the ass.”
Suddenly, Grom stepped into the room, his gnarled figure barely squeezing through the door. His face was a patchwork of scars, leathery skin, and lumpy bone, with one large bulbous nose that jutted out from his wrinkled face like a crooked rock formation. His ears, misshapen and drooping, twitched nervously as his yellowed eyes shifted, darting around the room as though he expected an ambush. His armor, if you could call it that, was little more than patchwork leather, stained with the dirt of centuries, and strapped haphazardly across his hunched body. His thick fingers, knobby and coarse, clutched his cap like a lifeline.
