Copyright © 2018 by Marie-France Leger
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may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
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some women fear the fire
some women simply become it
r.h. sin
- Enchanted -
The Labyrinth
Chapter 1
The Beginning
I wish that I could forget it, forget it all. More than anything, though, I wish I could just take it back. The memories that now haunted me; it wasn’t worth losing something so close to my heart. For what? Only one thing.
To know.
I was barely ten when it happened. A very short tempered, impatient and curious child. It’s impossible to explain the dread I felt, day after day, living here. This life I was assigned to. Being trapped in The Labyrinth, not
knowing what was beyond and not knowing why. It always came up in conversation, whether or not we could leave or if there was some type of mystical barrier that bound us to The Labyrinth. As usual, the conversation was always shut down. Of course, that never stopped me from trying. I would bother my brother, my mother but for the most
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part, I bothered my father. It was a routinely thing to do. Constantly asking for an escape, a way to flee and explore what else I could know. I would talk, ramble on about how one day we should escape together, but they all called me naive. They told me I would never understand until I was of a proper age.
And they were right.
I remember the clarity of this night, no matter how hard I try to push it out of my subconscious; it lives there, lurks there. I woke up my father in the time between dark and dawn. Things just seemed so eerie, an unusually colder temperature than usual. Remembering everything is a curse. There was a constant tug in my brain that night, voices, all around me. I felt endangered and unprotected for the first time in my life. I remember my father blinking at me from underneath the cloth he had draped around him. I kept asking him if there was anything that could hurt us. I remember all I heard were noises and whispers, begging me to find The Enchantress. I remember this more than anything. The pain that burned my arm. At first it was subtle, I scratched at it in conversation with my father. But then it got worse, more intense. It was right where my tattoo was. Underneath the black ink, an explosive ball of fire felt like it was ready to erupt. But just like that, my father put his hand over it and the pain stopped.
He climbed out from under his blankets and stepped into his shoes, as I followed directly behind him. I don’t remember why he didn’t just stay where he was, reassure me that everything was fine. But I knew that not just myself thought that there was something in the dark. He asked me if I was all right and what these whispers were telling me. We were just two steps out of our sector
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when we heard a growl. Not just any growl, a growl so sinister it didn’t seem like any other animal I have hunted. He told me to go back and I didn’t move. I stood, frozen in time. Not because of shock, no, because I knew what was about to happen. He then gave me a little shove and told me to run back into the sector, where we were protected by spells.
I ran.
Why did I run? I will never be able to answer this question. Looking back I saw my father. At first he was staring into the darkness, and just like that, he took off in a run in the opposite direction. Into the shadows of The Labyrinth.
That was the last time I saw my father.
He never came back.
8
The Present
I feel as though I should provide a prologue on my life; a little explanation on how things work around here. I can’t talk to my family, so I might as well talk to the imaginary crowd of people I have built inside my head that automatically listen to me. I do this most of the time, to keep myself sane. Although, talking to myself is one of the near signs that address my deteriorating mental health. Let me just start by saying, if someone were to ask me, I would say that I believe it’s nearly impossible to find someone who isn’t stuck in some kind of labyrinth. Whether it’s a recurring thought in their mind or an inner conflict within, everyone has their own personal maze. You know? Just some type of maze that can stop them from pursuing goals and escaping, or living and experiencing important, worthwhile things. Although the labyrinth that I’m concealed in happens to be an actual labyrinth.
I’m what they call an Enchanted, and I have been since day one, birth, you understand. I’m part of a clan, a family called Desirea. We live in the world of Grean; a world not above Erthe, nor below it.
My parents are also Enchanted, along with my brother Devon and two sisters Annabelle and Mable. We don’t look like monsters, we look like normal people. How did we become this way? Some came from blood lines and others had ancestors, but for the most part we were chosen at random. Or at least, that’s what I was told by my mother. Who told her? Well that’s a mystery of its own.
Still following? Awesome, I hope I’m not boring myself, to myself. I am actually losing it, wow. Continuing
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though, all Enchanted were separated into The Labyrinth for one reason and one purpose. To put it bluntly, it’s so we don’t kill each other. It is in fact actually as harsh as it seems, maybe even worse. The Labyrinth is circular in shape and is divided into four sections, the homes of four different clans: Desirea (my clan), Coperton, Persil and Tamara. These clans are considered families living in their own sectors. I’m not talking a bunch of families; I’m talking one family per sector. The Labyrinth separates us from one another, using curved walls of green vine and thorns, dozens of wilted and tall trees, split roses and dried flowers. In other words, there is a giant forest in between the four sectors.
According to legend, the middle of The Labyrinth holds a way out of the Grean world; a world of unseen beauty and unknown happiness that only The Enchantress has seen.
But I suppose that those are only legends.
Dozens of labyrinths were formed and created by The Enchantress: the beginning and the creation of all the Enchanted. The Enchantress controls all of these labyrinths; the weather, the animals we hunt and the life of us all. In reality though, she doesn’t actually control our enemies. Believe it or not, our enemies are each other. This is where it gets interesting, trust me. Interesting, sadistic, entertaining, whatever you want to make of it.
An Enchanted holds a different face to anyone who looks upon them, besides their own clan. If my family were to describe me, they would say I have auburn hair and a pair of burgundy brown eyes. I’m also quite pale unlike my brother and short for a seventeen year old. I would agree
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with this description, although to the other clans, I could appear to be someone or something that they’re afraid of.
Just listen to how messed up this is. Every Enchanted is cursed. They are able to show their true face to their clan, but to everyone else, they are their nightmare, grudge, worst dream, broken heart, fear, phobia; anything imaginable that they never wanted to lay eyes on again. I suppose that seeing someone from the opposite clan triggers something in our body that makes us want to kill each other. My mother once told me that seeing another brought out the worst part of her. I don’t want to even go down that road because I thought I seen the worst part of my mom when I don’t finish my food; catastrophic let me tell you that.
Plus, I don’t really know what it feels like because I have only ever seen one member of another clan. She was part of the Tamara clan. I remember I was around eleven, sprinting through the veins of The Labyrinth with my
older brother and two younger sisters when a figure emerged from the weeds. She had her tattoo engraved along her forearm; Tamara. I remember the anxiety that filled my blood, but I was more curious than anything else. I wasn’t really afraid, like I should have been. We all stopped and hid behind a vine and stared, spying. Her back was turned to us as she picked wild berries. Her hair was twisted back into a dark braid, falling down the arch of her back. As she turned around I caught a glimpse of her face. Now, that was the day that I realized the curse was real.
She was my father, my dead father.
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Has it really been almost nine years now? If there was anything I learned from losing my father is that time does heal all wounds, but the scars still show. I have always felt that I was the cause of his death, even up to now. I guess that’s why I just never talk to anyone but myself; I don’t want to inflict any more pain on my family than I already have.
I don’t know what my siblings saw that day; only things they will understand. Talking about it makes it worse, so I just never thought to bring it up. I don’t think that woman ever spotted us, but that urge, that unforgettable urge I needed to fight back, to run up to that woman and – I don’t know what I would’ve done. It still haunts me to this day. Just like everything else.
I never crossed paths with any of the other clans from that day forward. I always stayed in my sector to feel protected, like when I was a little girl. But now that I’m older, protection isn’t really a problem. It’s not that I didn’t feel at all safe, though, something always felt off since that day. Half of my mind was constantly pondering questions. Who were the occupants that filled the spaces of the three other sectors? What would happen if I ever seen one again now that I’m older? Was there anyone really even out there besides that one Tamara member? Maybe there is more and I am just not allowed to see. Nonetheless, if it wasn’t for my mother Lyle, I would have never even known these clans existed.
Back to the history of my unforgettable childhood, she told us many stories as kids so we could grow up to remember them, although she never really explained how she herself knew. Even though I didn’t understand, it was good knowledge to have. So, apparently before the
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existence of an Enchanted, normal humans were plucked out of their life on Erthe, wherever Erthe was. I’m going to reiterate what my mother told me, so brace yourself for the boring:
Some were at random and some, legitimately chosen, were summoned. From young adults, to children and elders, these humans were to be separated into the four sectors of their own personal labyrinth. Yeah, that’s the theory of how people appeared here.
In all honesty, I envied the thought of my mother having once lived somewhere that wasn’t well, here. On the other hand, I pitied the thought she had to stay in The Labyrinth longer than I have. I tried to ask her about Erthe, but it was almost as if she couldn’t tell us. Tongue-tied maybe? Or was there more? Questions, I’m telling you.
From what I was told, The Enchantress paired together unfamiliar men and women and engraved their arms with tattoos of their assigned clan name. I use to think that the only perk of being an Enchanted was the tattoo. While I was growing up, the tattoo gave us exceptional training, knowledge, power and skill that our parents helped develop. It was magical, honestly. Some days I could shoot fire out of my hands without even realizing I burned down half the vines around me. But as we grew older and time went by, us Enchanted didn’t really rely on the tattoo to give us this gift - it became a part of us. Now, the tattoo is merely just black ink that signifies what clan we’re in.
This is the cool part, listen. Every clan possesses a different talent. For example, the ideal element of the Coperton clan is water. They enhance the power of liquid which their strength and skill comes from. This clan was
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forever recognized by my parents for their knowledge, and intuitiveness. And the Persil clan controls air which is their main essence of skill. I don’t really know much about them to be honest. Then, the Tamara clan has the element of nature, soil, ground, trees, and so on and so forth.
My clan though, the best one in my opinion. Desirea, fire. With the snap of my fingertips I can carry a flame. It’s sort of breathtaking, watching fire come out of you as if it was your own blood. Of course I know that we have other talents, but I’m still learning.
Then back to the malicious nature of things; my mom told me that in the beginning, each clan member was forced to remember the names and faces of the other clans so that it would be permanently carved into their subconscious, just in case they were to come across each other one day. But for some reason, The Enchantress decided to play us in her little game and change up The Labyrinth to create the Rule of Fear: bearing the face of all they never wished to see. The curse that we could never run away from and the curse that made all the Enchanted naturally despise anyone who wasn’t a part of their own.
Quoting my mother again:
Shortly after, the clans decided to birth children to help them live and keep them company.
And I guess, that is how my siblings and I came to be. Don’t ask me how my mother gave birth to us, how we were procreated; I do NOT want to know.
We, too, have inherited certain powers. Some of which we don’t know we have yet, some we don’t know how to control, and some we’ve mastered. Because Devon and I are the oldest, we’re the most experienced. What we
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mainly practice is to control a flame, turn objects to
ash, keep a warm essence, and healing; those are the main skills we were taught, but we’ve dabbled a little on our own since then. My sisters have only learned to light fires and a few other little tricks. All in all, we all still have a lot of learning to do.
You’re probably all wondering what kind of environment I live in. No, no, it’s not a shithole, trust me. It’s actually pretty comfortable.
Our sector is composed of water sources that replenish freshly and frequently (there’s something in the soil that just constantly provides water, don’t ask me how). There are two trees that continue to grow despite being cut, vegetable and fruit seeds that we use to produce, vegetables and fruit and necessities: blankets that we make out of soft fern, silk from silkworms that we use to make clothes, and vines that we weave together to make pots. Around the first passageway that leads out of our sector, we have the forest where we catch our animals.
Honestly, there were no real problems ever caused in The Labyrinth, at least not since I’ve been around. All clans keep to themselves, never entering any sector that isn’t their own. I think it’s just because we all know that if one was ever to enter a prohibited sector, they would be taken care of quickly. And by quickly, I mean, destroyed. On a clan’s own ground, that is where they’re strongest and where another clan is at their weakest.
I don’t think any member really has a problem with each other unless they actually come face to face. Although who am I to talk, I haven’t been around that long.
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Despite the conflict, the one thing that we can all come together in unison on is that us Enchanted hate The Enchantress. She created all of these labyrinths, all of the curses and all of the danger for nothing.
For the final time, let me quote the wise words of knowledge from my mother Lyle:
For decades the ancient Enchanted have tried to find their way to The Enchantress and tried to defeat her once and for all, but no one has ever survived trying, or even bothered to pursue the idea for that matter. It was just too much of a risk.
We don’t know why she did this to us, but my guess is that it’s nothing good. I’m just happy that nothing severe happened to my family and I yet, yet. Well, unless you count...
Never mind.
In all seriousness, nobody really knows where The Enchantress lives. All I know is she harnesses her power from something, and my guess is it’s from the middle of The Labyrinth, the unknown happiness we will never truly know. Although, my guesses are
entirely inaccurate 99% of the time. Supposedly, it’s this portal that takes you to passages leading to her. Seeing the impact she’s made, I bet that she didn’t make it easy and that’s why no one came back to tell the tale.
Thankfully, we live in the safest places of The Labyrinth, where there is almost nothing that can harm us. But in the depths, entering the deeper parts of this place, almost everything is dangerous. There are things unseen by anyone, strange things. At least that’s what The Enchantress herself told all the clans before she separated them.
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My mother told us these stories when we asked. She told us never to be wild enough to even have the thought of going out there. I listened for the most part. There was a point in my childhood where she wouldn’t even let us leave our sector without her, which is understandable.
My father died leaving the sector.
And that is where it all leads up to, my regret and my guilt. That’s my curse. That’s why it’s his face I see when I see someone else. It was his face that I saw on the skin of the Tamara member. And it will always be his face that I see in the back of my mind.
***
Tears and regret flooded my vision as I scanned both sides of our sector passageways, double-checking that there was no one hidden beneath the shadows. My body leaned sluggishly against the mossy sides of the cornered vine walls. I turned to look at my family; my mother was wrapped around both my sisters in a heavy wool blanket while Devon was huddled asleep sitting up in the corner by a dying fire. I guess I passed out before he started it. Maybe he lit it for warmth since The Enchantress decided she wanted it to be cold for this time of night.
All I could picture was my father snuggled up against my mother and Annabelle, cradling Mable like he used to.
Enchanted: The Labyrinth Page 1
