Yumitchah

The Living City

A scream died within the confines of the dark labyrinth. The girl jerked awake, ears perked and listening. She heard the constant drip of water before the claws on stone. She heard the breaking of bones signifying that another had died. She heard the creatures shift around, searching for the last survivor.

Sitting up, she reached to the left and felt for her backpack. Upon finding it, she pulled out a wineskin and quietly downed about half of the remaining water she had left. Today was the last day. Today either she escaped or she died.

She placed the skin back and clipped closed the single compartment. Placing her hand on the ground she pushed herself up, in the process unknowingly pressing a hidden switch. A door silently slid open behind her and she noticed the space around her brighten. Spinning around in confusion, she squinted into the light.

“Congratulations, you have made it to the exit,” an automated voice stated. “Please proceed into the elevator. Departing count: one. Remaining survivors: none.”

Following the orders, she stepped into the small compartment. Glass panes surrounded it on three sides with a marble floor and a steel ceiling. The doors closed behind her, revealing mirrors. There were no buttons to press but the elevator moved.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she winced at how ragged she looked. Her clothes, originally a white t-shirt and light blue jeans, were ripped in various places and discoloured. Her black running shoes were worn gray and her black hair, tied into a knot, was frayed. Her face was brown despite the three or four months she’d spent without the sunlight. In fact, at the moment, it felt as if the sun was burning her bare skin.

She sighed, staring into her own gray eyes as the shock settled in. Was this even real? The only other survivor for the last two days dies, and suddenly she finds herself leaving? Frowning in disbelief, she turned to the windows and gazed out.

In the distance, a golden desert expanded for kilometers. A sandstorm raged across one side, rolling over itself in a sluggish way. To the right side, a green structure curved downward, disappearing somewhere along the way; to the left, a large spike swung back and forth in an extremely lethargic fashion.

The elevator hissed to a stop. Applause filled her ears, and she turned around with dull eyes. “Congratulations on passing, Lady Leila.” A clean woman dressed in a black suit with a black skirt smiled warmly.

“Pass?” the girl repeated, confusion evident in her voice. “What did I pass?”

The woman held out a hand, but as Leila moved to take it her hand slipped through. Nevertheless, the woman moved as if pulling Leila’s hand. “Please, step this way,” the woman said. “We have a feast prepared. I’m sure you are hungry.”

Nodding, Leila stepped through the opening onto a stage. A multitude of spectators sat in the chairs, filling up the auditorium. Overwhelmed, the girl took a step back and tripped, falling flat on her bottom and stirring a cloud of dust into which she coughed. Instantly, the room quieted. Looking around as the dust settled, she glimpsed the spectators one last time before they suddenly disappeared. She stood up cautiously and spotted the orange wire on the ground. It seemed ancient and it crackled slightly where it was torn apart. Leila realized that what she had tripped on was this same wire.

Her heartbeat raced in her ears and panic overtook her mind. The lights hummed, still in perfect shape despite the amount of time that seemed to have passed. Feeling tears start to gather in her eyes, Leila scanned the room for doors and noticed two: one at the other end of the stage and one behind the endless rows of seats. Deciding quickly, she ran across the stage, her footsteps echoing loudly in the theater.

She tried the door and it was unlocked. Opening outward, it connected to a long, plain hallway split by turns. Sprinting through, she reached another door, also unlocked. She bit her lip, slightly afraid of what she would find. Calming her breath and mind, she twisted the doorknob and peeked out.

A gigantic circular platform of solid gold stood in front of her, surrounded by four pillars that created a pentagon with the structure she came from. Stained with blood, it looked as if a war had taken place on it. Between the pillars ran long jade railings.

Inhaling the fresh air, she stepped toward the railing and looked directly into the eyes of an enormous reptilian head.

More precisely, it was the head of a turtle. It seemed to have died during the battle that appeared to have taken place. Its head laid resting on a broken part of the rail, and its glazed eyes stared unseeing. The girl climbed carefully onto its head, sliding down the neck to the base. A gigantic shell spanned out in front of her, blocking out the golden land below. On its back were massive towers, or ruins of them, weathered from the wind and the roots of plants.

Leila instinctively knew that no other humans remained in the city. She tried to recall what happened, how she had ended up in the labyrinth of the creatures. Nothing. Her memories were empty save for the days she spent in the darkness.

In a gasp of realization she collapsed and the tears that were threatening to overflow poured out of her onto the dead turtle’s neck. She cried for the dead, for the memories, for the past. She cried for the unknown.

She cried herself to sleep.

“You will all take the exam, a test to define your limits. For at least a week you will live in Suladead, the labyrinth of dreams. You may work together to find the exit, but know that with each person you work with, your own score will decrease. We live in such a world where dependence is equivalent of death. Survive and move on, or die here.”

The man walked off the stage after he finished his speech. In the seats sat a group of around a hundred post pubescent teenagers, of both genders and all ethnicities. Within them, a couple held hands, whispered, and giggled.

“Leila,” the boy said, “I will never leave you behind.”

“Aww Ramur, you’re so cheesy,” the girl squealed back. “We will need to take this test to determine our standing in the future. I’m sure you and I can both make it if we go individually, so we should go separately. Besides, it’s not like they will actually kill us.”

Four adults stood around a table, each wearing a cloak of a different color than the rest. They disputed about a subject, two on each side. “We need to hold the fort, the Lilliaz Karn is invading!” one of them, a man, yelled.

“That Karn can’t do anything against us, for the turtle we have is of higher standing,” rebutted another.

“Lilliaz developed weapons of mass destruction. You can’t just throw away this fact and believe that we will win. We must take measures to defend our city!”

The doors burst open to a young messenger. “The Lilliaz Karn’s head has broken the rail,” he hurriedly spoke. “The other humans are invading.”

“I told you,” the first adult grimaced, slamming his hands on the table. “We must defend!”

“This… is… my last… request…” The dying being gasped out its words, crying tears of regret. “Let… the last… survivors… be… unable to… look… upon… this… sight.” Dead bodies, cut apart by swords and struck by arrows, glowed as they faded. Only blood stains remained. “Let… the… strongest man… and woman… of the… trial… live on… to… restore humanity.” In its thoughts, two names swirled around. One boy, one girl.

“Leila? Is that you?” The voice woke the girl up. “Is it?”

Forcing open her swollen eyes, Leila gazed into the dark blue eyes of a pale boy. “Ramur?” she croaked out. He smiled in relief and pulled her into a tight hug, and she felt warm liquid drip onto her shoulder. “I… what happened… how could…” She couldn’t formulate a question, but the boy let her go and sat back.

“It’s a long story, but I will tell you,” he began, shifting into a more comfortable position on the gigantic turtle’s neck. “Before our Karn died…”