Sarah sat on the hilltop outside the Labyrinth. Her eyes drank in silently a view now long familiar.
It seemed strange now that not so long ago she had been struggling with all her might to push through those winding passages one last time. Oh how it seemed everything hinged upon brute success.
Now she knew better.
There was always some wider maze leading her heart into spirals. Each time the race ended, she looked up to see there was only yet another one to be run. But now she'd run the last race. And she'd finally learned to stop looking up. There was no well-done waiting for her. Never was. Never would be. The victory was hers, hers fully. But it was a bitter champion who stood beyond the winding stone guarding a certain Fae's infamous goblin citadel. Ah, she would have preferred her victory be shared…
There is nothing now. I am alone.
Her heart shivered with apprehension. Night was coming. And victory did not mean home.