Title: Shunned

Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate

Category: Labyrinth

Rating: Pg13-R

Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?

Authors Note: I would appreciate reviews. ~Raven~

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

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The maze seemed to go on forever, it twisted and turned and made it impossible for Constance to decipher which direction she was actually headed in. She could only hope she was on the right track. She quietly cursed when something on the gravel-like flooring cut into the soft flesh on the soles of her feet as she walked down the twisting corridors. The walls were made of a dark, almost black stone and were covered in a slimy, clear substance that she thought was much like snail's trails. Those walls were toweringly high, and they blocked the sun.

She had little light to make her way by, due to the lack of light and she was constantly squinting to see what lay ahead of her. She carefully made her way around another corner, and while concentrating on not touching the walls she almost ran directly into a blockage in the path. She staggered back a bit and before turning around to take another path, she took a closer look. It was no mere blockage. It was a statue.

After closely examining it for several seconds she gasped and fell back several paces. It looked like what she imagined the Minatare to look like, she hadn't noticed its head until she had strained her neck upwards for it towered several feet above her. It was carved from a rough, light gray stone and where the eyes should have been, two deep red stones sat. She gently reached out to stroke the gratie surface of the statue, but the minute her fingers came in contact with it, the beast roared to life.

"What do you think you're doing here, child?" It asked her in a low, rough and deadly voice.

"I, I'm trying to find my way to the center of the Labyrinth." She said, almost staggering over her words from fear of what would happen if she angered the creature further.

"I know not what lies beyond this point." He replied loudly, "I guard this position. And only those who can answer a question of logic may pass." He finished his statement by blowing dust out of his large stone nostrils.

After a few seconds deliberation she pasted on her bravest face and stated "I wish to answer your question."

She supposed his facial expression was as close to a smile as he could get, but it almost looked too menacing for a true smile. "What belongs to you, but is used primarily by others?" His voice was gruff and hollow as he spoke, "You have five seconds to answer, if you aren't finished deliberating by then, you'll be my breakfast."

Her eyes widen at his statement, but she said nothing. Her brow furrowed in deliberation as she concentrated, her mind doing double time. Then the Minatare spoke, low and frightening, "Your time is up, do you have an answer?"

She stood still, thinking hard, but coming up with no answer. The beast began to advance on her, taking slow steps towards his prey. She remained where she was, eyes unfocused as she concentrated on finding the answer. With a lethal looking grin the beast knelt over until he was eye-level with her, puffing more dust from his large nostrils, he was prepared to make his attack.

Then, she looked up and met his gaze "My name." she stated simply. With that the creature withdrew and stood aside and allowed her to pass.

She ran past him and continued the high pace for several minutes, stopping suddenly, she reflected on what had just happened. The whole weight of the situation hit her and she released a staggering breath; that had been a close call. Mentally shaking off her fear and placing her confident mask back on, she renewed her speed.

She blazed her path and tried not to think about the challenges. Hopefully there would be no more 'guardians' as imposing as the last one. 'Please let me live through this, please let me live.' She silently chanted to herself, trying to slip into her hard, protective shell. Then, not paying a large amount of attention to where she was going, allowing her feet to do the preverbal thinking, she quickly turned a sharp curve in the path and smacked into a wall.

She fell to the ground with an unceremonious 'thud' and looked up to see. She had run into no wall. She found herself starring up at the Lamia King; he had donned a pair of well fitted black breeches, a soft-looking dark gray poet's shirt, high black knee boots and a billowing black cape. From her angle he was the most imposing being she had ever seen.

He cocked his head to the side and with a bemused smile said "Enjoying the view?"

Without answering Constance hastily stood to face him. He gazed at her intently for several seconds; she held her chin up with a bit of courage she didn't know she had, she was trying hard to seem brave. Then he reached out and cupped her chin.

He tilted her head to side and examined the now dark bruise that stretched from her temple to her jaw. "What could you have possibly done to cause your father to do this?" He whispered lightly.

"I did nothing." She stated quietly.

He reached out one, long, gloved finger and ran it over her bruised flesh, she tried to wrench herself from his grip but he refused to yield. When he released her she reached up to touch her face, there was no pain.

"You healed me?" she asked, in a small, child-like and almost astonished voice.

Her only answer was a smile, a feral and dangerous smile that, for some reason almost made her knees go weak. Almost.

"Why did your father strike you?" He asked quietly, leaning over her small, fragile form.

"Because, I'm not her." She whispered, casting her eyes to the ground, "He hates me for what I did." At that moment she almost looked vulnerable in his eyes. Almost. But then she returned her gaze to his and her eyes were still dead, "Thank you for what you did, but if you'll excuse me, I still have to finish this." She stated, indicating the labyrinth.

He made a tremendous, mock-bow and stepped clear of her path. 'This one,' he thought, 'is a maze all in her own.'