Labyrinth - The True Universe

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Labyrinth recognised the signs, and so did the children of this entity, of this abomination of abominations, because Sel was one of their chosen. He was one who had to be awakened, one who was touched by the many offspring of this universe-defying thing in the centre of all universes, and as such, as soon as the senses of his human self were taken away, he started to awaken. But the child in his body was still weak, its skeleton fragile, its soul still freezing against the cold cruelty of Labyrinth, so it was not the time. As such, Labyrinth returned to Sel the concept of the world, making him able to see with his senses again, but Morbidia, Labyrinth kept in darkness, for she did not belong here. A mere lost spirit that sought refugee in such an insanity was not to be allowed to live through this ordeal, Labyrinth decided. Even though her actions of insanity did appeal to Labyrinth.

Sel took a deep gasp as soon as he saw the world unravel before himself again, and as always, once his senses adjusted to the new image, he found himself in a completely different place. He was in the centre of a blood red meadow with ravens standing upright instead of grass, not to mention that in the place of the Sun, a grotesque skull of an inhuman being hung from a disfigured, mechanical spinal cord. But such images did nothing to Sel, whose mind was already used to these insanities. He simply checked if he was all right, then he checked if he still had his equipment, especially his trusty knife with him. The backpack was still somehow on his back after all these ordeals, and he found that the grip of the knife was steadier in his hands than ever, so he deemed himself to be ready to explore Labyrinth.

In his wake, the grass that was a flock of ravens, stirred and rearranged itself to patterns that represented the seven-in-four, the abominable sign of Labyrinth before they took flight to the skies, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. It seemed as if Sel had found the void, an infinite plane without texture that stretched on for eternity and beyond. However, what he did not know was that below this textureless plane lied the children of Labyrinth with their aura of certain doom wrapped about them. They were now watching him, the one who would join the ranks soon, for even if it would take decades for the seed in him to blossom, it would be only an instant for Labyrinth. And if there was something that Labyrinth did not like it was Labyrinth's children being hurt unless it was for Labyrinth's sake.

As such, wherever Sel went, Labyrinth clamed down the wave of change or seized it with the hands that Labyrinth never had, then threw it before the monsters that dwelled in Labyrinth, which gladly feasted upon it. Whole threads of existence were devoured just because of the mere whim of an entity, never to be given back to the cosmos. Worlds died even before they could be born, they were aborted in the womb of their non-existing mother, after which even the mother was killed without mercy. Anything that impeded the birth of a new seven-in-four, the awakening of a new insanity was to be discarded like ragdoll that has lost the favour of its owner.
 
The one known as Bidia Morthel, before she obtained the prefix to her moniker which would testify as a stigma to her being, stood in the middle of the grandiose room. As she attempted to interact with the others which were summoned there for the night's festivities, she was spurned, and the people were driven away from her as if an unseen wall was erected at all sides of the woman. She was draped in black silk, the lavish material cascading down her porceline colored form. Adorned in the jewels which seemed to ensnare a portion of the mysterious veil between the heavens and earth itself, solidified darkness in which no mortal was to ever obtain for themselves, her onyx eyes greedily feasting upon the splendor around her. Of course it was rather futile to continue living behind the fascade of a the ornate, ebony mask because she was an all too conspicuous character amongst the populous, widely famous for her trademark attributes. She could never disguise them away, would never feel refuge in any sort of illusion in modifying her aestetic self. Her grasp on the stem which was used to prop the eyelets against her face loosened, and the mask descended in a clatter upon the ivory floor.

Bidia cast her gaze upon the veneer of meticulously carved repillian-like scales as if the object was something to be villified, as if it were the sole possession for her blame to be thrust upon. The clamor caused for such a disruption to the beauteous music being orchestrated that all instruments producing the fine tune uttered a harsh screech that seemed to resound from every wall before the wave of silence swept across the room. All were statuesque in their disregard for the outcast, not a gesture produced of synapses attempting to invoke a response of the mass of puppet like vessels surrounding her. Since Morbidia was subjected to the whim of Labyrinth without a chance of reprieve from the torment of the darkness that enveloped her, she was unable to contend against the images conjured forth from memories that were long ago interred in the great catacombs of her mind. She felt imprisoned, shackled by the negative emotions her visions stirred within her.

Then suddenly the sea of extravagantly clad people would part, as a particular gentleman made his way towards her, one that seemed as equally shrouded in mystery as she. He would bend in a graceful gesture to retrieve her mask from the floor it lay upon, his lips adopting a soft smile as he took in her beauty. He felt amored by her presence. "I am Rolyph, milady." He rose and gently clasped her left hand to his bosom."I shall be honored if thee wouldst permit me a dance." Sel. The old historian was trapped somewhere within the expansive realm, and for a moment she'd succumbed to the whims of Labyrinth. She needed to regain control of her mind, and body, in order to save the one she considered friend, rather than foe."Morbidia, the children...would have never suffered the plague, they inherited my genes which had made them immune to Yersinia Pestis! They would have withstood, thrived! Oh, what have you done, my sweet? You have forfeited their lives for naught!" The words of her lost beloved would never find her, as the darkness seemed to devour them.
 
If there was one thing that Labyrinth could have been indentified with, one human concept that perhaps, somewhere in its murkiest, least discussed meanings could come close to the absolute chaos that was this living concept, it was infinity. But even such a word can not grasp the true size, the sheer presence that existed within the crossroads of realities, the soul-wrenching ideas that lurked in place, even though it was similar to Labyrinth as Sel discovered. Because no matter how fast, or how slow he walked, no matter that the insanity could not warp the world around him, he felt as if he had not moved an inch from where he used to be. He was still there, in that place where Labyrinth tried to crack his mind open, to devour whatever willpower was left in him, but for some reason, he was left alone.

It was still useless. The eyes may have only watched him, the hands may have not reached him, the children may have avoided him because they respected their origin, but it did not mean that he could go against the mood of absolute madness. No matter how close he came to the other parts of this place, if such things even existed, they were still as far away as when he had started. Each step that he took made him travel both forwards and backwards, every single metre that he walked was pointed in all the four cardinal directions, or the cardinal directions he could see in Labyrinth, making his progress useless. He did not even notice as his legs seemed to twist under him, yet they remained perfectly still, perfectly healthy. But at the same time, they were crooked. They were useless. They were not working, yet they did their job without even tiring.

Then, when he closed his eyes once for a too long time, he was in a different place. Or he percieved a different place that was madness to the still-sane part of his mind. Whether Labyrinth changed, or he had progressed, he did not know. But he had to flee from this place, for it was covered in the marks of the seven-in-four, the broken mirror made out of nothing but poisonous mercury. An endless hall of deception surrounded him, covered in reflective surfaces that seemed to grin at him, crytal-clear glass that asked silent questions while they laughed at the historian's misfortune, fractured fractures, infinite fractals which held inside them even more infinite fractals. Implausibly detailed engravings carved into precious surfaces which wept hot liquid silver, eyes made out of nothing but reflections.

He tried to chase the scenery away by blinking for a long time again, but it seemed that for now, Labyrinth was relentless, until in one of the mirrors, he saw something. A pale face that was somehow visible in the absolute darkness of sensory deprivation, the absolute uncertainty which had been given to him.
"Morbidia..." gasped Sel, as he followed the line of the mirror, only to find another mirror. Then another. Then another. And more. And still more. An infinite number of mirrors traced from an infinite number of sources, all at angles he should not be able to see their surfaces from. "Labyrinth!" shouted Sel, taking his knife into hand once more. "What have you done! I demand that you obey me, that you act according to the rules I have discovered, that you stop delaying the inevitable!"

There was no answer. Only the mirrors seemed to even realise his presence, their non-existant grin growing wider by the second.
 
Rolyph resigned himself to Labyrinth with a sigh. His revelation would remain unheard, as if he'd never confessed it at all. What would this enunciation of truth really achieve anyway, if it were to be received by the audience of Morbidia and the troublesome tenants which inhabited her physical body? The children were already familiarized with the facts which had provoked such a grudge to reside in them. But Morbidia? Her ears were innocent of it all, her mind unspoiled of the consequences to the events she had set in motion. The runes. Sel seemed to possess the ability to awaken the secrets which were forever immortalized upon stone. If he could somehow animate his own messages upon the runes, Sel would learn the very secret that weighs heavily upon Morbidia's heart.

Sel was a man of free will, Rolyph realized, and could utilize this information for the purposes of evil, but perhaps in the act of the Historian's discovery, it would somehow break the chains of guilt that enveloped Morbidia's soul. Would it also release her from this place she considered to be a realm of torment? Rolyph had to try. If his spectral form contained enough determination, he would publish these claims upon all the walls which contained Sel. Etchings would scarify the panels of air, as to enlighten his journey upon the paths of her life most unfrequented, the most enigmatic details to an agenda most foul. The words would scorch away the layers of oxygen of which labyrinth utilized to forge the formidible structure, an effuence of language meticulously penned of his forefinger would soon unfurl across the expansive realm. It was formally written, addressing Sel by name and would close with his own.

Morbidia's bone-rattling footfalls would belie her presence concealed inbetwixt the silky shades of shadow, where darkness and illumination united in rendezvous. "Oh, Father..."Dire Morthel's words were as caustic as acid upon one's flesh. "Why must you bring forth the influence of another in our insidious little game? Mommy Dearest sealed her fate that night." He evoked a nod of her head, her withered hands wrung together. "..I suppose you are welcome to exercise your fanciful notions of her salvation, but it will only end in folly. Foiled and thwarted by the will of Labyrinth, and our interference." He continued, each deliberate step he encroached upon them, striking the earth with enough force as to result in a series of small, concussive blasts. "And, what of this...Noket?"He inquired coldly, beckoning a wave of her hand toward the trapped historian. "Why does he remain in this place beplagued of doom? Sinister secrets must reside in him as well. What of those -you- harbor, Father?"

Her body convulsed and her head was thrown back in a fit of malicious laughter. "Does he know that he's simply a pawn in Labyrinth's game? In -your- game?" Dire would dominate Morbidia's facial features, reflecting unto Noket a feigned look of compassion. Rolyph took an uncertain step backward, followed by another. "Certainly, you may possess the power to free Noket of his invisible prison, but none shall ever be released of Labyrinth's clutches." An ominous tone flowed from Morbidia's mouth, her eyes narrowing to slits. An intense silence would then descend upon them, for several moments, until Dire's voice would again intrude upon the quietude of their surroundings. "I suppose I must take it upon myself to shed light upon this situation."

Her posture became rigid, her hands positioned as if she were standing at a pulpit, onyx eyes resting sternly upon the two men. "Morbidia forfeited the futures of twelve children, Rolyph had an incestuous encounter with an estranged sibling, whom by her chosen occupation was a seductress of the night, she later succumbed to aphyxiation upon swilling the whiskey that was plied of his coin, and.... Noket." Her head turned stiffly in his direction, so that Dire's following words would fall upon him more intimately. "Your desire, your ravenous appetite for knowledge is so great, that you were willing to destroy Mommy Dearest in the process. The more you pursue the elusive truths, you seem to possess no conscience, as if you had sold your very soul to the Devil as to further your comprehension of universal law. You seek naught but mastery in everything, and would trounce upon all whom stand in your way. Such arrogance."Dire would then turn her gaze upon his father, lifting a palm as to stifle any retort he may have. "Father, certainly you had no prior knowledge that she was your sister, but this revelation would make you reviled, nonetheless."
 
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The war between the various spirits was of little interest to Labyrinth, their human noise but an incromprehensible assault upon what this strange place was. Therefore, they had to be silenced. Therefore, they had to be eliminated. Too long have the blabberings of this insanity have been allowed to go on, decided Labyrinth on a whim. What made these children, these foul abominations think that they could understand what Labyrinth was, what the seven-in-four, the four-point star made out of seven lines was? What could they even hope to do and for that matter, even though Labyrinth knew nothing of what was said, Labyrinth knew that these humans would end up helping each other. But alas, Sel, one of the future children of Labyrinth was near. Even to this twisted, beyond-warped reflection of reality, children were sacred, because they could be used to spread mad prophets across the many universes of reality, because they could twist whatever they encountered into an image that spoke of Labyrinth.

For now, Labyrinth decided against acting, but once the noise that was made inside Labyrinth would become too much of an insolence, Labyrinth would no longer care. There was nothing to be gained by listening to the incomprehensible, just as there was no point in trying to uncover the laws of Labyrinth. How futile of a goal did Sel choose for himself, but for the insane historian, it seemed to be plausible. Even now, he was adamant on trying to trace the line of the mirrors back to Morbidia, to see if he could do something in order to find her, but the mirrors just kept grinning. Despite the fact that they were without teeth, that they were but smooth surfaces of silver and glass, the mirrors were clearly laughing at the misfortune of Sel, who was so obsessed with trying to find the source of the reflections that he did not even notice the messages addressed to him.

The mirrors just laughed at that with a silent, non-existant sound, then they turned without moving, showing yet another angle, another combination to Sel, who was forced to retrace his steps... And then he noticed the letters in the air.
"What in the name of Labyrinth!" he swore, looking at the characters that were completely alien to him, for regardless of how much Rolyph wanted to communicate with him, the mirrors would not let that be. Though they were only supposed to reflect light, they also were the children of Labyrinth, so around them, the air warped along with most of the electromagnetic spectrum, creating pure chaos which would rearrange everything so that the human eye could not make sense of it. It was their game, the one thing that kept them amused whenever an unfortunate soul got trapped in Labyrinth and they had no intention of abandoning it. Especially with this human, who did not seem to realise what they were doing.

"I demand that you obey your own rules, Labyrinth!" shouted Sel as he attempted to break a mirror, but his hand just slipped through it as if it was mercury. With a loud yell, he scrambled backwards, only to encounter yet another mirrored surface, which was so hard that it almost cracked his spine despite everything that he was carrying. Doubling over in pain, Sel swore that he could see the mirrors grin at him once more. "You... you..." he started, the anger that he contained beyond human words. Why was Labyrinth not obeying the rules that Labyrinth had to obey? Why did Labyrinth not react to his touch? Why was Labyrinth not bound by the human tongue? Why was Labyrinth not screaming and writhing in agony when he started counting down prime numbers save for the ones that even Labyrinth considered sacred? It made no sense! The ancient texts spoke of an insane world, but an insane world that could be mouled to one's imagination.

"I will destroy you and the child who is responsible for all of this, Labyrinth!" screamed the historian with utter rage as he grabbed his knife. "You will not escape the fate I have assigned to you, for humans forge their own path. Do you hear me?" he asked, but there was no answer. Labyrinth did not even understand him. Instead, Labyrinth was focused on Morbidia, intently staring at the source of such unpleasant noise with unseen eyes that were on all ceilings, yet they could not be seen on any surfaces, blood white growths of insanity that tried to interpret the world of humans in a way that Labyrinth could understand.
 
It seemed utterly hopeless. Rolph's and Morbidia's secrets divulged to the great audience of Labyrinth and its captives, save for the one man they were intended, Sel. This further enraged the restless spirits, especially Dire. Did Labyrinth take their gestures seriously? Or did it think that they were merely petulant children, in need of long overdue chastising? He offered himself as a herald to this being that they revered as a God, that they may be made its consorts, and do its bidding. Labyrinth thus far seemed to turn but a deaf ear to them, a blind gaze. What act could he commit which would deem himself worthy of a higher station in Labyrinth's eyes? To undergo a dark ritual into Labyrinth's thrall, where he would reap the rewards of being one of its servants? Usually, to initiate such a coronation called for the spilling of one's blood. Mother's veins were tapped out of the precious crimson fluid, so what he sought lay within Sel. The historian appeared the very personification of a thorn in Labyrinth's side, so the child thought that if he were to be disposed of, perhaps Labyrinth would look favorably upon him.

Dire bidded Morbidia's peripheral vision to fail, which wasn't that difficult a task since death long ago claimed the clarity of her gaze. Her decrepit visual receptors offered but a strange, distorted surveillance of her surroundings, but in other ways resembled those which would befit an antique doll. This served as a useful tool in the prevention of falling prey to any distractions, as Morbidia encroached another step in his direction. "I must destroy you, in the name of Labyrinth!" A gutteral cry tore free from him, a prelude to a shrill ululation, an ode of frustration and fury.

(To be continued)
 
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