Labyrinth
by Harper
2nd Place Winner 2005 Fireside Stories
The labyrinth started out as a place for the werewolves to get away. They were sent there so that their communities would not be disrupted by radical humans. Those who would not move out knew what sort of lives they could live outside of it. Over time, this original intent was forgotten, though, and the descendents of those who had started this peaceful arrangement went on a hostile crusade to rid their “regular world” of all werewolves.
Over three thousand werewolves – men, women, and children – were murdered in the span of three months. Hundreds of fugitive “strange folk” ran to the labyrinth for safety. Soon the once peaceful haven was overflowing with incensed werewolves who wanted to have revenge on the outsiders who had cast them from their ancestral homes. Because of mankind’s tendency to forget the past, the world would not have peace for many years.
To be exact, the passing of nine-hundred years was what it took for the bloody war to stop. A cease fire was called and a truce drawn up, peace offerings made on both sides. It was not enough to take away the pain of millions who were lost in that time span, though, and there could never be true peace while they were living together. Therefore, the much depleted community of werewolves once more withdrew to the labyrinth to attempt to forge a peaceful life.
They are welcome outside of their homeland only four times a year – at each seasonal festival – and other than that, any werewolf found is brought to a biased court to be tried for disrupting the peace, no matter how peaceful their visit. This is where our story begins. And where, my friends, we meet our heroine…
Her hand slammed down on the table with abrupt force. Half of the audience jumped in their seats, though those who had seen her at work before smiled ruefully, some even went so far as to chuckle behind their hands at those who had half-leapt from their chairs. The judge was unruffled, having listened to her rants before, and knowing very well that she liked to be forceful. He just coughed, softly, in disapproval, but did not speak.
“Your honor, it is ridiculous that we treat our labyrinth neighbors like this! He has done absolutely nothing wrong, just come out to get some food for his family. Every time one of our people goes in willing to pay for food from his kind, they are treated generously. Yet we shame ourselves by treating them as worse than dirt when they ask for the same in return. And we call ourselves their betters!”
The judge smiled, but it was a melancholy smile. Grace’s heart dropped. This had been the response every time she tried to defend a werewolf that was being tried. It was as if she was a small child who did not understand the concept. They felt the need to explain it to her again every time that she did this. And – as anticipated – Judge Morris started to lecture about the rights of “peace breakers”.
“I’m sorry, Miss Anthen, but it’s really not my choice. The treaty clearly dictates –” The judge began, but was cut off by the hotshot defender.
“Treaty, your honor? A treaty forged years ago by our ancestors? If you would recall, sir, there is a similar clause in the werewolf treaty and they have moved beyond it, why can we not do the same?”
“As I was saying, Miss Anthen, we have not seen fit to put it aside. The werewolves can do whatever they want with their treaty, it is not required that we follow suit.” He replied, with a low cough, brows closing in severely.
Grace Anthen sighed softly, running her fingers idly through her hair, chewing lightly on her lower lip, thoughtful. It was better to get Antros a reduced sentence, if she continued to push her point, then he would certainly be more severely punished. With another sigh, she stood up and took a couple of steps forward.
“Your honor, if I may, I would like to request that my client have a reduced sentence, by right of his age.” She said, looking fiercely up at Judge Morris, as if defying him to deny her this request.
Judge Morris frowned deeply, but spoke with distant approval. “Miss Anthen, his age is equal to an adult here in our lands. He is close to your own age and clearly you are no longer seen as a child. Eighteen is hardly a pardonable age.”
Grace smiled, thinly, then responded. “According to our esteemed ancestors, it has been clearly proven that werewolves do not mature as fast as pureblood humans. Thus, I would conclude that they would not be mature until several years after we are. And, indeed, at the age of sixteen, I was not granted an adult’s permissions.”
“Acceptable. Thirteen days in the jail, then a direct-route caravan to the labyrinth. His right shoulder will be marked. If he returns again, this grace will not be granted.”
Grace cursed under her breath as she shoved the door open, the sound of the wood banging against the stone exterior a harsh sound against the quiet of the town center. Few people were stirring around, but those who were quickly moved away, knowing very well that Grace Anthen was not the sort to control her temper after losing yet another battle with the persistent judges. This time, at least, she had managed to get a reduced sentence, however, and even though her eyes smoldered irritably, there wasn’t any fire toward those who had done her no wrong.
She wasn’t paying much attention to anyone, actually, as she walked toward her home though the forest. It was a terrible thing that her people did to the werewolves. They abused the very creatures who had once been their closest allies. It made her distinctly sad to think that they had lost so much beauty, so much knowledge that the werewolves had possessed for years. Not technology, but true wisdom.
As she was walking, thinking, the woman wasn’t paying attention to anything else and so, she missed the twang of a bowstring. So it was that she didn’t even know what had hit her when the arrow thumped into her side. She gasped in surprise and fell backward, hearing a second arrow whistle by her ear. By now, her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she was sure that she was going to bleed to death, there in the forest.
A booted foot suddenly slammed down on her knee cap, causing her to black out for a couple of seconds before coming to again. Though she wished she hadn’t. There was a sneer on the face of the man who loomed over her.
“Stupid bitch, shouldn’t side with those dumb animals. Shouldn’t have got him a lessened sentence, killed the little reiyev before he even got home. Just like I’m about to kill you. Teach your sort to mind their own business.”
As he kicked her, hard, in the head, she felt as if she was falling into a great abyss. And then, darkness. Her last thought before she succumbed to blissful unconsciousness was:
Who are the true monsters here?
Then nothing.