I hefted myself up, kicking the stubborn stone face a few times to gouge a foothold. Repeating the action, I began scaling the wall as the boulder drew closer with every passing moment. As much as I would have liked to launch myself over the obstacle with a timely rock column or create steps up, both were out of my reach. The first because I didn’t have enough skill or power and the second because I had no time. This left me with no other option than to re-enact that scene with the spider guy; regrettably, there wasn’t time for a woohoo in this rendition. It demolished my hastily formed ramp sending bits and pieces of stone everywhere, the sight prompting a burst of adrenaline that helped speed up my climb.

If we collided, I would, without question, come out on the losing side, signalling the end of my trial. The crowd’s roars reached fever pitch as the boulder loomed abreast, my lower half still dangling precariously over the edge. I gripped hard and put everything into one final heave accompanied by a shout, sending my whole body over the top. The vortex surrounding the boulder tickled my feet—too close for comfort, as I tumbled headfirst towards the cold stone floor on the other side. Shielding my head and tucking in my legs, I braced for an inevitable impact.

The ground rushed up to meet me, the violent collision expelling all the air in my lungs while I rolled with the inertia. Wheezing ragged breaths, I laid there, still, pain pulsating through limb, dirtied by dust and grime. Gingerly sitting up and inspecting my body, no lasting damage had been incurred other than the scrapes on my arms and legs. Letting out a sigh of relief, I rose to my feet albeit with somewhat difficulty, ghosts of the ordeal still yet to fully dissipate. Picking up the shield that had landed nearby, I inspected for any damage, strapping it back on after confirming it was still fit to be used.

Patting myself free of excess dirt, I swivelled and spat, my contempt plain to see while clearing the grit that found its way inside my mouth. It was naïve of me to think that I would be treated with fairness and impartiality when the eyes of the city were on me.

‘Not like this changes much, though I will have less time and energy at the end. The only scenario in which I see myself not completing the trial is if it’s overly biased to the point of absurdity, which I don’t see happening,’ I reasoned. This competition still needed to have some semblance of decorum, or else it would turn into a circus where the referees were allowed to do anything they wanted. With this in mind, I proceeded with newfound vigilance, knowing that it would be total chaos once the others entered the fray. The sands of time were falling, and the margin of error was shrinking with every granule.I sped off into the unknown, the melodies of a frenzying throng my sole company.

The door to the underground room housing the entrants slid open, the scene that met the woman’s eyes stunning her into silence. A chaotic brawl was underway, children of all ages, bloody and bruised, biting, tussling and pulling at each other’s hair. Sure there had been similar situations in the past, but none had grown to such a size, at least in her memory. They were caught up in such a fury that none noticed the open passage on the side of the room leading to the arena.

Allowing the kids some autonomy was an essential part of the test allowing their true character to come to the forefront but not to the point that they wouldn’t even begin the actual trial. Unwilling to be saddled with the blame of leaving them unsupervised in favour of a wild goose raccoon chase, she sprung into action.

“Stop!” the woman bellowed, a tremor spreading through the room, leading many to their knees while dust rained from above. “What the hell are you doing fighting amongst each other!” she continued, spittle flying from between her lips, face red, veins flexing. Those closest shivered under her wrathful glare, while others were in too much pain to acknowledge her words. “The exit has already been opened! What in the Great Guardian’s name are you still doing here!”

The idiotic looks of confusion she was met with did nothing to quell her rage as she proceeded to throw and shove what were once lively children out the door. Even those too injured to move were not spared, being thrust out of the room by someone they would come to dub “The Troll-lass”.

She pulled the door to the exit shut when the room had been cleaned of the riff-raff, deserved relief fleeting when she remembered the culprit of her disappearance. “No one makes a fool out of Halla hinn splundrandi lófi. I swear on my ancestors, this slight will be repaid twofold!” she yelled, cracking her knuckles with a sinister expression.

Mud and dirt smattered my outfit, crusting and flaking off in the nippy winds. I glanced up at the statue, shrouded in a cloak of darkness, noting a little over half of the sand had been emptied. With the pace I had been moving at, I was surely nearing the end but had no way to confirm my position. As much as I would have liked to climb atop the walls and effectively bypass the labyrinth, it was against the rules and would result in disqualification. This was also ignoring the existence of the metal grate resting atop the walls barring anyone from doing such a thing, fleeting shadows lingering at the tips of one’s vision, ever watchful.

I was previously able to climb over because it had been shorter than its brethren, leaving a large enough gap to move through, plus I had no other choice. I skidded to a stop, feet grinding against course ground, as another hazard blocked my path, one of many that had failed to halt my advance.

What lay before me was a stretch of muck or quicksand, tiles uniformly arranged in rows of three, presumably used as stepping stones. I had neither encountered this before nor heard of something of it from conversations with uncle Fjǫrnir, but I got the gist of what it wanted me to do. The obstacles changed each year, so there was no way to know just what I would be facing, but there was only so much variation one could use for a basic ability assessment like this. It also allowed the hazards to be classified into general categories like strength, control, accuracy, defence etc.

Dim lighting, paired with my lethargy, worked in unison to urge me forward without care, but I staved off the pull; I could not afford complacency. Kneeling down and inspecting the closest tiles, I realised that there was something carved into each one, reassuring my prudence.

In here, everything played a part in challenging and breaking you, from the suffocating walls that caged us in like animals to the oppressive aura of the enthralled spectators that drowned out our thoughts. It wasn’t surprising that many who decided to partake in the Effervescent Labyrinth suffered some sort of trauma in one way or another. It was brutal for a bunch of children yet to enter their teens, and this was only to qualify as a warrior in training! With standards like these, it made sense that most of them had a screw or two loose; you couldn’t survive any other way.

Back to the situation, the left tile had a worm carved onto it, the middle one had a chicken, while the right one had a cat. As far as I could see, the pattern repeated itself for every row of tiles, the order changing for each iteration. This was a pretty basic puzzle sequence if I’ve ever seen one—worm into bird into cat and repeat. But you never know what might happen with these saboteurs that had plagued me throughout the trial. Placing my right foot on the worm tile and shifting half my weight onto it, I stomped down a few times to test its sturdiness which proved true. Being the fastidious person I was, I decided to try the other tiles, which resulted in my foot being engulfed by the slurry as soon as I put some weight on the chicken tile.

‘That takes care of my lingering doubts.’ I stepped onto the worm tile and slowly began to manoeuvre over the quagmire according to the pattern I deduced. Suddenly, the tile I was on shuddered, as if repulsed by my weight, beginning to sink into the muddy soup below, joined by the rest of the tiles. My bending failed to halt its descent, overpowered by another, sadly not coming as a surprise. ‘I am sick and tired of this shit!’

With no time to waste, I swiftly began hopping from tile to tile, the sweet promise of safety drawing ever nearer. However, my success was short-lived, and soon enough, the tiles I had yet to tread on also began to lower, forcing me to speed up this exaggerated game of hopscotch. The last two rows were gobbled up by greyish mud, leaving at least two body lengths worth of unadulterated quicksand I had to overcome, and I wanted none of it. This stuff was a nightmare to deal with, sticking to skin and cloth, the cold caked mud, sapping warmth and stamina like a leach.

Using the last tile as a springboard, I leapt forth, grabbing the shield strapped to my back during the process. Right before landing, I brought it below me while tucking my feet in, holding on for dear life. A loud splat split the air, mud thrown high, as I channelled chi into the shield, rejecting the pull of the sands. I skidded along the top layer, fighting the quicksand that threatened to devour the makeshift vessel, finally sliding to a stop just in reach of dry land. Clambering onto solid ground, I sent a quick thank you to the Great Guardian before fishing the shield out of the swamp.

A racing heart pumped with vigour as my chest rose and fell, eager for more oxygen. Between wealthy breaths, I freed the shield of the final remnants of earth’s viscous grasp, dropping off in clumps at the behest of chi, revealing the dirtied face beneath. Recovered, I strapped it back on once more and resumed the arduous journey through traps and hazards, waiting for their chance to strike. Pitfall traps, projectiles, precision puzzles, and strength tests, I overcame everything thrown my way while staying ahead of the other contestants.

Eventually, I made it to the final obstacle, the completion platform elevated beyond, promising salvation from this grinder of earth and stone. The statue, ever unmoving, held time between their palms, dictating that there was about a quarter left. The only thing between me and freedom was a narrow stone bridge, about an adult’s arm span in width, rising over a ravine, connecting the end of the labyrinth to the finish. I believe it was called the Vigningsväg and signified the rise from a regular person to something greater, a warrior. It was the only consistent obstacle in the Labyrinth every year and was, in truth, more symbolic than an actual obstruction. However, this time around, it would be different, turning into a true path of consecration for those that dared trod it.

I neared the edge of the labyrinth, where ground gave way to darkness, and craned my neck over, peering down. While the shadows blocked my view of the bottom, trainer Galti told me that it was filled with water to prevent any unfortunate accidents on the off chance someone managed to fall off the Vigningsväg. ‘I hope the water is deep enough.’ The crowds burst into curses and boos as I took the first step, growing in fervour as I continued forward. I turned around midway up the bridge, gaining a full view of the labyrinth below. Numerous attendees were stood on the metal grates, performing various actions influencing the situation underneath, as dogged children advanced with fire in their bellies.

Sitting down with crossed legs, I took out a bundle of stems, hidden away in an inner pocket, gripping it tightly. Chi gradually flowed from it to me as I closed my eyes, recovering with the little time I had to spare. The rustling of clothes and thudding steps aroused me from recovering trance, a boy emerging from within the stone maze. Rising to my feet while brushing off the dirt stuck to my pants, I loosened myself, awaiting the first challenger. He froze in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape, noticing my figure, though he quickly moved past it. He cautiously approached sword and shield at the ready, puzzlement as apparent as the moon were in the sky.

As he was close enough to hear my words over the spectator’s incessant ravings, I stated in a monotonous tone, “Who are you loyal to?”

His face scrunched up, processing the statement, as I noticed a few others exiting behind him. ‘Good, I can hit two birds with one stone,’ I celebrated. “Who are you loyal to!” I spat, startling the boy.

“Don’t order me around!” he bellowed, sword pointing at me. “Get out of the way, or else svartr!”

“Wrong answer,” I replied, dashing towards him. My approach left the boy little time but to swing his sword in a clumsy arc, meeting my round shield, a loud thud rising over the cacophony of noises. As with anyone untrained, his shield hand was not raised, leaving his face wide open for my fist to connect with his cheek. His head jolted to the side, body following soon after, crumpling to the ground. I jumped on top of him, knees pinning his arms, as he looked left and right, mumbling in a daze. Scrunching my right hand, I brought it down on his face with all my might.

Blood sprayed everywhere, the blow busting his top lip; I punched again.

His nose was broken, tears clogging his eyes; I punched again.

The pitter-patter of teeth hitting the stone floor tickled my ears; I punched again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I kept at it until my arm jellied and could no longer be weaponised, leaving me huffing for air.

His face was glazed in a layer of red, the ground surrounding us dotted in rubies. Standing up, I unceremoniously kicked him off the edge, the delayed splash his final proof of existence. At some point during my performance, time had come to a standstill, the atmosphere thick with trepidation. Flexing my bloodied knuckles, deciding the pain away, I looked at the now cowering children, fear evident in their eyes.

“Next!” I declared, voice echoing into a still night, lost to endless darkness.