The 23rd of Saun 717
The corridor was long and illuminated by torchlight at regular intervals. At the edges of the circles of light, pools of shadow formed, growing and shrinking as if stuck in an endless loop, a dance dictated by the irregular blaze of the fire. The tunnel itself was not remarkable, really. The roof and floor were made out of smooth stone tiles, while the walls were constructed from ordinary bricks. There were no symbols on the walls, no directional markers, no text, no pictures. It was just a long hallway that looked to be repeating itself forever. Every new part started and ended with a torch, and the corridor in between each segment was exactly the same as the last. At least, for the most part. Every so often though, a thick steel door blocked the path. It had no hinges, no knob, no keyhole. It was just a massive plate of steel with a symbol etched into it. It was a roaring lion each time, giving the impression it tried to intimidate the intruders. It never worked.
”Another one,” one man said, frowning heavily. ”I’ve had just about enough of these! How many have we come across? One hundred and five? Thirty? Six?”
”Twenty-three,” a second man said, standing behind the others.
”Bah. Still too many. I’m telling you, we’re going in circles! It’s about time we reach the end, this is getting tedious.”
”Don’t be such a sourpuss,” the third and last man said, chuckling as he drew a speech bubble on the door with charcoal. The tail pointed to the mouth of the lion, making it seem as if it was yelling the words inside of the balloon. “Meow!”, it said. The third man muffled his laughter with the palm of his hand as he stepped back to admire his work. The other two rolled their eyes.
”You’re still doing this?”
”Don’t you get tired of it?”
The third stared at them as if they’d just proposed the sky was actually below them instead of above. ”Of course not! Now let me stand on your shoulders so I can draw a mustache on its snout!” He sounded fairly excited about it, but his companions just shook their heads. The second man placed his hand on the door instead, his expression becoming one of focus and concentration.
”Open,” he commanded, and the door obliged, rumbling as it trembled and shook, slowly swinging to the side. Behind it was the same hallway like before, going on as far as the eye could see.
The first man scowled at the sight. ”I’m serious, guys, ” he said again, grumbling, ”we’re going in circles.”
”Nonsense,” the second replied, ”all doors we’ve come across we’ve opened, and these were all shut.”
”They could have closed on their own,” the first proposed. ”I bet that’s what’s happening. We should wait here for a while. You’ll see.”
The others shrugged. The first and second sat themselves down a couple meters away from the door, their gazes intently focused on the steel obstacle. The third simply continued doodling, this time writing offensive language on the walls. He stopped after a while however, clearly having run out of ideas.
”You guys know anything I could add?” he asked, tapping his charcoal on an empty spot.
”Treid is a heartless bastard,” the second responded with a grin.
The third cracked a grin as well, pointing at the second with both hands. ”Ha! Good one! I’ll write that in bold!”
They waited a whole lot longer, but the door did not move. The second raised an eyebrow, much to the first’s chagrin. ”It just knows we’re waiting,” he said, ”I’m sure it will close itself once we can’t see it anymore.”
”Maybe,” the second agreed, ”but we’d be seeing his doodles on the doors if we really were going in circles.”
The first nodded, considering this bit of logic. ”I suppose, yes… Seems he’s useful after all.”
Both of them got up then, patting the third on the shoulder to get his attention, and started walking again.
”I do hope we get a change in scenery soon,” said the first, ”all this--” he gestured to everything around him ”—looking exactly the same is getting on my nerves.”
He got what he wanted not long after, when the three of them reached a fork in the path, giving them two different options. Left or right. Both hallways seemed identical, which killed the elation the first had been feeling at the discovery of the fork.
”Great, now we have two identical hallways instead of one. Which do we take?”
”The right,” the second decided without hesitation, earning him a quizzically raised eyebrow from the other two.
”It might be full of traps,” the third said. The first brightened up at those words.
The second shook his head. ”Only left corridors are full of traps,” he stated with conviction.
A smile split the first’s face in two. ”So we’re going left then!”
”Left is good for me,” agreed the third. He’d been writing on the floor, putting “no traps” and “traps” in big letters on the stones, with arrows pointing to the left and right hallways respectively.
”We’re going right,” the second said, hissing through his teeth. The other two did not listen though, the both of them stepping into the left corridor, laughing.
”Fucking pieces of shite,” he cussed, reluctantly going after them. ”If we die because of their stupidity, I’ll kill ‘em!”
