Right, right, right, right…

Wasn’t that how you got out of the labyrinth? By going in one direction, again and again. Or was it left?

We’re back at the same chamber. The place was still - all I heard was the soft fizzling of the Flytrap corpses, and the exasperated sighs of my confreres at realizing we’d gone in a complete circle.

“Don’t you have a million different spells at your disposal. You must have something that can get us out of here”, said the mage.

“No, not that many. Skill trees are like life, you have to pick one thing and stick with it”, I responded.

“That’s not right”, Béla weighed in. “With life, you want a little of everything. It doesn’t do any good to get lopsided”.

“Ah that’s what I used to think. Now that I’m a little older, wiser..”

“Balder”, said the mage. I smiled at that.

“Yes, and balder, you start to realize some things. It’s like a hike up a mountain trail: you stare at your feet the whole way through, you struggle, you pant, all until you reach the top and get to see the vista behind you. And suddenly the trail looks so small”.

“You were just waiting to use that on someone, huh?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t saving it for something”, I admitted, laughing.

“You could’ve picked a better time. If you knew this place half as well as you claimed, we’d be at the Spider Queen by now. I can’t say I’m in the mood for some of your words of wisdom”, said Béla.

“I had the way in my pocket. Somehow, someplace between the start of the dungeon and where we are now, I’ve misplaced it.”

“So what are you telling me? We hired you to look at a piece of paper?”, said the mage.

“I’d like to think there’s more to it than that. You wouldn’t have lasted a second fighting all those Flytraps. And it’s no thanks to you we were fighting them in the first place”.

“Hey, I’ve already paid for my mistake”, gesturing to the bandage on his arm, “We agreed to have you on to get us to the end of the dungeon with minimal effort , and so far, I don’t think you’ve kept your part of the deal”.

I dismissed the mage. “You’d be dead twice over if I wasn’t here. You would’ve hardly made it through the hallway if it weren’t for me”.

“All I’m saying is, if we’d got a professional instead of some old tippler to guide us-”

“Alright, that’s enough of that”, said Béla, getting between us. “You’re in hot water as it is, Jeroen, with that little stunt of yours, and I won’t have you drive a wedge through this party when we should all be putting our heads together to get out of this goddamned maze”.

Nice of Béla to think of me as part of the team. Jeroen was less than pleased to hear these words, however.

“You think I have to take this? Like this is all I can get, huh?”, reproached Jeroen. “I could join any party I wanted, with my skills and connections. I sure as hell don’t need to take any guff from a milksop like you.

“What did you just call me?”

“What are you, dense? I called you a milksop.”

“Look, I know tensions are high right now, but there’s no need to go on like that. If we can just take it down a notch, and try to find a way out-”, said Béla diplomatically.

“Well, we sure as hell ain’t finding the way listening to this guy”, pointing to me, “I’ll take my chances on my own, thank you very much”, and he turned away, taking the path to the left.

“Get back here. You’re being childish”, said Béla. Jeroen ignored him. “I said get back here. That’s an order”.

Jeroen stopped in his tracks. “What’s that? An order? Say that one more time, come on. I beg of you. Order me again.”

Béla was silent, perhaps ashamed of his words. Jeroen put his hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you”, he jibed.

Béla made to move but I stopped him. I went up to Jeroen in his place.

“Now, look, I know I’ve made some mistakes, and I want out of this labyrinth just as much as you-”, he raised his arm to push me away, automatically triggering my sharpened reflexes. I caught his fist, clouted him on the side of the neck, and kicked his legs out from under him, dropping him onto the pavement. He landed with a dull thud. I looked back at Béla - the two of us were speechless.

“What did you do?!”, he blurted out.

“I-I’m not sure. That just sort of happened”, was my best answer.

“Get him up! By the gods, is he alive?”. I went over to him to check. Thankfully he was still breathing. Guess he wasn’t as tough as all that talk made him seem.

“Those were some moves, I mean, you shouldn’t have done that, but still. He’s alright, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he just hit his head. It’ll bruise something nasty, but otherwise he’ll be fine”.

“Did you learn that somewhere or?” I told Béla what my level was, and that before I started to specialize I put points into unarmed, one of the lesser skill trees by far, though in this situation, might’ve been the right call.

“I guess it does pay to try a little of everything”, said Béla, smiling.

Vigdis ran into the chamber.

“Everyone! I’ve found the way out!”

“A miracle!”, I said, “lead the way”

“What happened to Jeroen?”, she asked, looking at his body crumpled up on the forest floor.

Jeroen groaned. Me and Béla looked at each other.

-

-

-

We neared the labyrinth’s exit now. Midday light filtering through the stone trees formed dappled yellow pools. The petrified canopy must do something in the way of trapping heat, as we found ourselves languishing in a dry, dusty atmosphere that made your head feel heavy. To entertain ourselves we had taken to ironing out the perfect allegory for the meaning of life. We decided not to dwell on the little scuffle we’d just had, and instead indulge ourselves in a moment of peace this cleared-out portion of the dungeon provided.

“Life is a lot like modern art”, I began. “You look at those paintings again and again, but it seems almost like the more you look at them the less sense they make. And if you try to ask the guy who made them, he gets angry at you, like why should he bother explaining it to a philistine like you, who probably wouldn’t get it anyway? If you can get him to explain it, it’s a bunch of babble that you don’t understand, but suspect at its heart is something really very simple, and that he’s only complicating things out of spite, or pigheadedness, or -”

“No, no, that’s not right”, said Béla, jocular. “Life is an all-you-can-eat buffet. You have a million little options, but they’re all a tad undercooked. You take a little of everything to see what’s really edible, and usually none of it is. But every now and then, you get a dish that’s just right, and then you can have as much of that as you like, but by then you're already full”.

“No, life is a waking nightmare”, muttered Jeroen. “A warped illusion created by a mad god. He’s tossing and turning in his sleep, and just as soon as he wakes the whole rotten world will collapse in on itself”. He grinned, with his fingers crossed, “Here’s hoping”.

Vigdis gave a sour look. “I don’t like that much. Lux created the best of all possible worlds. It would be the works of man that make it anything less than perfect. I have some literature on this topic if you’re interested”.

“Wait, I’ve got one”, said Béla. “Life is like a tropical fruit. It doesn’t taste right unless you travel halfway around the world. People try to tell you you can have them anywhere, and they’ll try to sell it to you after its been sitting in ice, but it doesn’t compare to the real thing, which you can get for free, if you’re willing to go all the way to the Faroff to get it”

“Another food allegory, huh?”, I joked. “It’s the complete opposite anyhow. People search all around the world for something, and miss what’s right under their noses. It’s the simple things, that were there the whole time, that make life worth living.”

“Of course you’d say that, after you’re done traveling. Now that you’ve been all over the world you’re thinking of settling down”.

“No, no, the way I see it, you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t”, said Jeroen. “Life is a bad bet. A coin toss. You go to the Faroff, you wish you’d stay home, you stay home, you end up dreaming about foreign lands, what could’ve been”.

“So what, it’s better to stay home then? If you feel the same in the end, better not to risk anything?”, asked Béla.

“No, it’s the opposite. Risk everything, if you’re miserable in the end anyways. The only way out is to win big. Take a clipper ship to the edge of the world, as far as I’m concerned. Maybe then you’ll find The Golden City. Life’s not worth living otherwise, that’s just my two cents”.

“The thing is, no one’s ever found The Golden City, because it doesn’t exist. There is no ‘winning’ in life. You go around with that kind of attitude, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment”, I lectured. “No wonder you think life is a ‘waking nightmare’”.

He sneered at these words. He must have been able to tell that I didn’t believe them. They were just extemporaneous inventions on my part, there was no force or intent behind them, other than to establish myself as an authority. I had gone my whole life searching for The Golden City, and he must have sensed that in me, especially with the way he continued:

“What do you think you’re doing dungeoneering, huh? You could’ve worked at a desk job, you know, instead of risking your life every waking moment, for a pay you’re only too eager to lament. Yeah, you give speeches about how dangerous this way of life is at the drop of a hat, but you love it, don’t you? This is the kind of job you have to love, otherwise you don’t last a second doing it”.

Was there something to all that? Was there something to adventuring that proved essential to me? Maybe with all the books I’d read I could’ve been an accountant. Tallying up figures on a trade ship's manifest, instead of risking life and limb for pay which I am only too eager to mention, is crap.

No.

Never for a second was that an option. I had nothing other than a sword, the clothes on my back, and my resolve. I was just another boy from the slums. Adventuring was my only way out. Once I’d made a living it was too late, I wasn’t fit for anything else. I’d seen too much to be an accountant.

I told Jeroen this and more.

“There’s no spare income when it comes to adventuring. Every cent you get is put towards affording your next run. Weapons, supplies, drinks to dull the pain. Adventuring was my only way out, but once you start, it demands everything”.

He stopped asking questions. But the uncertainty was still there. All my life I’d been looking for something. Just what it was, I’m not sure.

“What if, life is like a labyrinth”, ventured Vigdis. We groaned at that one. “No, really. Everyone tries to sell you new ways of getting through it, like keeping to the right. But there’s really nothing to it but the old-fashioned way. That’s the only way to free yourself”.

“So, what’s the old-fashioned way, then?”, asked Béla, already knowing the answer.

“Draw upon every resource Lux saw fit to grant you with, and pray for the ones he didn’t”.

We found ourselves at the end of the labyrinth.

"I guess there's something to be said for that", said Béla.