Chapter 66: The Devouring Maze


    The journey to the overgrown village felt like stepping into a forgotten corner of the world. As the manta ray descended, the group disembarked into a scene of eerie stillness. Half of the village lay consumed by an unnatural web of gray-green vines, twisting and creeping over the remnants of stone buildings and once-bustling streets. The air carried a damp, heavy scent, like the earth after a long rain, but tinged with something sour—an acidic undertone that made the hair on Abel’s arms stand on end. The quiet was oppressive, the only sound the soft creak of the vines shifting as though they were alive, twisting in place, waiting.


    Gravedigger, ever vigilant, scanned the area. His gaze was focused on the vines, thick as a man’s arm, pulsing faintly as if drawing life from the very ruins they consumed. “These vines are no accident,” he muttered, his tone grim. “They’re coming from the heart of the ruins. That’s where we need to go.”


    Abu, standing a few paces behind, narrowed his eyes. His ability to communicate with birds had always been useful, but even the birds had gone silent in this place and were hard to find. He raised his arm, and from the misty treetops, a small bird descended, perching on his wrist. Its keen eyes darted in the direction of the ruins. “The vines thicken further in. They’re strangling everything,” Abu reported softly, his eyes distant as he communed with his companion.


    Abel’s gaze wandered across the village. The buildings, though crumbling, still bore the signs of a long-forgotten civilization—the Malancia Nomads. Stone structures, once carved with intricate patterns, were now marred by the vines’ relentless grip. Where there should have been signs of life, there was only decay, an unsettling aura hanging over the place like a heavy mist. It felt like they were walking through the final breaths of a dying world, and Abel couldn’t shake the feeling that the village was watching them, waiting for something.


    Gravedigger led the group toward a large cathedral that seemed untouched by the vine’s corruption. The towering spires of the building stood defiantly against the encroaching death that surrounded it, casting long shadows across the stone square below. “We’ll make camp here,” he said, his voice cutting through the stillness.


    The cathedral itself was imposing, its once-glorious architecture now a shell of what it had been. Massive wooden doors, weathered and creaking, opened into a vast, barren interior. Dust clung to every surface, and long-forgotten banners hung limply from the ceiling, their colors faded beyond recognition. The air was dry inside, carrying a scent of rot and old stone. Shafts of dim light filtered through the cracked stained-glass windows, illuminating patches of the ground, where the dust swirled as the group moved.


    “This will be our base for the expedition,” Gravedigger continued, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. Each recruit spread out, laying down their gear and assessing the areas they could use for rest. The recruits exchanged uneasy glances. There was no sign of life here—just the long-forgotten shadows of those who had come before. Abel’s eyes wandered to the large stone altar at the far end of the room, a cold chill running down his spine.


    That night, sleep came slowly, the weight of the village pressing down on them, the quiet too thick, too strange. Abel lay awake, listening to the subtle creak of the cathedral settling around him, but beyond that, there was nothing. Just silence.


    When morning broke, the group gathered quickly, eager to press on. The ruined part of the village, half-devoured by the vines, loomed ahead. As they ventured deeper into the consumed streets, the landscape became more distorted. Vines wrapped around collapsed buildings like grotesque snakes, curling into windows and through doorways, choking the life from the village. The ground felt spongy beneath their boots, as though the earth itself had become corrupted by the vines’ slow, consuming hunger.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Abu’s bird returned, circling overhead and then landing on his arm. “The concentration of vines is strongest to the east,” he said, nodding toward where the bird had indicated. “We’ll need to head that way.”


    They followed Abu’s guidance, though unease settled over the group as the village''s eerie atmosphere intensified. The vines pulsed with a faint, unnatural light, casting an eerie glow on the walls they consumed. Their movements seemed to shift subtly when no one was watching, as though they were alive—waiting to strike.


    Abel could feel the pull of the ruins ahead, the quiet thrum of celestial energy that connected him to something far beyond the mundane. But even that sensation was tempered by the oppressive presence of the vines, as if they were fighting against the very stars themselves. “These vines… They’re not just consuming the village,” Abel murmured. “They’re alive.”


    As the group was pulled into the heart of the devoured village, they found themselves standing together, surrounded by high walls of vines that twisted with a life of their own. Above them, strange, thick leaves floated, completely obscuring Abel’s view of the stars. The maze was alive, and without the guidance of the stars, Abel felt lost.


    The leaves floating above the maze were unnaturally suspended in the air, not connected to any branches or trees, as if they existed solely to block the view of the stars and the world beyond. These magical leaves were dark and thick, their surfaces shimmering faintly with an eerie glow, like a veil between them and the outside. They pulsed with a low hum of energy, shifting slightly as though they were alive, weaving together to form a perfect cover, cutting off any chance of navigation by sight.


    "We need to clear the sky," Abel muttered, his frustration building. Jane, understanding, summoned a powerful gust of wind that tore through the thick canopy of leaves. The wind howled, swirling upwards, pushing the leaves apart to reveal the night sky. Stars twinkled down on them, bright and clear, filling Abel with a sense of relief. The stars'' patterns offered him guidance, illuminating the way forward. As he traced their path, he couldn''t help but wonder if this was how the ancient nomads once roamed the land—guided by the stars, lost in the wilderness of this strange world.


    Abel’s head throbbed slightly, a dull headache creeping in from the strain of constantly using his celestial powers. But they had no choice; they needed to push forward. With Abel leading the way, they navigated the maze for several minutes, twisting through dark corners and vine-covered paths.


    They soon reached a sudden drop-off. Before them lay a massive hole in the ground, its depths obscured by shadows. Across the gap, a set of ancient stairs descended into the earth, beckoning them into the heart of the ruins below. But there was no easy way across, and before they could even discuss a plan, the vine-covered walls around them began to tremble and close in.


    “Tina!” Gravedigger shouted.


    Without hesitation, Tina slammed her hands against the ground, summoning pillars of earth to reinforce the collapsing walls. Her power flowed through the earth like a lifeline, holding the walls back as they shuddered under pressure. Gerald stepped forward, his fungal affinity flaring to life as he sent thick mats of fungi growing over the earthen supports, bolstering Tina’s structure with the spongy resilience of his spores.


    "We can''t hold it forever!" Tina warned, her brow furrowed in concentration.


    Gravedigger, sensing the urgency, lifted his femur staff into the air. With a focused wave, he manipulated the bones buried deep within the earth. They twisted and extended, forming a narrow but sturdy bridge across the chasm.


    "Run!" Gravedigger bellowed, and one by one, they sprinted across the bridge, the walls groaning behind them. Just as the last of them crossed, the walls collapsed inward, crushing the earthen pillars Tina had raised.


    Panting, the group gathered at the far side of the chasm, their eyes fixed on the stairs leading downward. They had made it, but the dangers were far from over. With the labyrinth behind them, they could now descend deeper into the ruins, where untold mysteries—and dangers—awaited.