The Centre of a Labyrinth

I circled the array of brightly coloured tiles, feet making soft squelching noises on the moist earth under my weight. The air, icy and rich with the smell of wood smoke as people hurry to start their evening fires, the sun casting an auburn hue all across the cloudless sky.

The Labyrinth lay at home in the ground now, it's seen enough setting suns and full moons for moss to decorate its trim. For footprints to have flattened the gravel and prospective magical folk to have left their subtle mark…

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