Welcome to the Labyrinth

The road wound through rolling hills, shaded by a canopy of trees that filtered the sunlight into shifting mosaics on the ground. We’d been walking since dawn, and now the sun stood at its zenith, pressing down with merciless heat.
The twins trudged silently beside me, their steps dragging on the gravel path. I watched them from the corner of my eye. They were hanging on, but only barely. The damn curse — or illness, or whatever the hell it was — kept eating away at them from the inside. My improvised herbal remedies had slowed the progression, stabilized them a little, but curing it? That was still a distant dream.

Pururun bounced ahead of us with the manic enthusiasm of a hyperactive puppy, poking into every bush and hollow along the way. Sometimes she would circle back, vibrating joyfully, before darting off again on her self-appointed scouting mission. At least she was trying to be useful… in her own weird, gooey way.

“Hey, girls,” I called over my shoulder. “You holding up back there?”

“We’re… we’re fine,” Mira croaked, her voice raspy.

Liar. Her labored breathing told me otherwise, but I didn’t call her out. No need to crush their morale further.

“Good. We’ll take a break in ten minutes. Let’s find some shade first.”

Lyra whispered a faint “Thank you,” barely audible.

“Save your thanks,” I muttered. “I’m just doing my job.”

A lie. I’d stopped just doing my job a long time ago. But admitting that I’d grown attached to these two outcast girls? No way. I had a reputation to maintain — grumpy bastard with a heart of surgical steel.

***

We eventually found a decent spot near a small stream. The water ran clear and cool, perfect for refilling our flasks. The twins practically collapsed against a tree, utterly spent. Pururun flopped down beside them, reshaping herself into a soft, puddle-like form — her version of a comforting hug.

I sat a few meters away, rummaging through my satchel for the last scraps of dried meat. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do until we reached the next town.

“Eat,” I ordered, tossing them each a piece.

They obeyed without complaint, chewing slowly. I watched them in silence, my mind turning over darker thoughts.

These two kids… what the hell had they been through? Rejected, hunted, blamed for every misfortune by religious fanatics. Their parents burned alive for daring to love. Now cursed to die slowly, rotting from within while the world spat on their existence.
And me? I was dragging them toward the capital on nothing more than a hunch that maybe, maybe, a city that big might have answers. Resources. Knowledge. Someone who could help.

Hope. What a joke. Me, the man who’d always relied on cold, hard logic.

***

“Doctor…” Lyra’s timid voice broke the silence.

“Ethan. Call me Ethan.”

“Ethan… do you really think you can cure us?”

I met her gaze squarely. No lies. No false comfort.

“I don’t know. Honestly? I’ve got no guarantees. This curse, this illness — whatever it is — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. But I’ll do everything in my power to find a way. I always say every problem has at least two solutions. That’s all I can promise.”

She lowered her eyes, but a faint smile appeared on her lips.
“That’s already more than anyone’s ever promised us before.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’m not exactly the sentimental type.”

Mira let out a weak chuckle. “Yeah, we noticed.”

I smirked despite myself. At least their sense of humor wasn’t dead yet. That was a good sign.

***

We set out again half an hour later. The landscape slowly shifted — the hills flattened into fertile plains dotted with fields and farmhouses. More travelers crossed our path now: merchants hauling wagons, peasants carrying baskets, adventurers bristling with weapons.

Civilization. Or at least, this world’s half-assed version of it.

“We’re getting close,” I murmured.

The twins instinctively drew nearer to me, pulling their hoods down low over their faces. I understood the reflex. In a crowd, showing their dhampir features would be a death sentence.

“Stay calm. Stay quiet. If anyone asks, you’re my assistants. Period.”

They nodded obediently.
Pururun, meanwhile, was positively buzzing with excitement at the growing crowd. She waddled ahead, making curious warbling noises that drew a few amused stares.

“You behave,” I warned her. “No acid attacks. No toothpaste spray. We’ve got enough problems.”

She vibrated indignantly, then grudgingly calmed down. Well, as much as a hyperactive slime ever could.

***

We passed an inn overflowing with rowdy travelers, then a market where overflowing stalls competed with each other in a symphony of smells — fresh bread, spices, livestock, sweat, and… less pleasant odors. Classic medieval city.

“Do you have money?” Mira suddenly asked.

I tapped my coin pouch. It felt depressingly light.

“Enough for a few meals and maybe a couple nights at an inn if we’re lucky. First priority: getting you both proper clothes. After that… we improvise.”

“Improvise how?”

“No idea. We’ll figure it out.”

She sighed but didn’t push. What did she expect me to say? That I had some flawless master plan? I’d never had one — not in my old life, and certainly not here.

Once they were dressed in less suspicious clothes, they blended into the crowd far more easily. No one gave them a second glance. One less burden to carry.

And then, finally, I saw it.

The capital.

It loomed on the horizon, colossal and unyielding. Gray stone walls encircled the city, their towering gates swarming with caravans, travelers, and guards. Spires and towers rose beyond, crowned by a central palace whose golden rooftops blazed in the sun.

“Holy… shit.”

That was all I could manage.

“It’s… huge,” Lyra whispered, awestruck.

“Yeah. And probably a total nightmare to navigate.”

But at least here, we could disappear in the crowd. The lord of Lowstone had been right: in a place this big, anonymity was easier.
In theory.

***

The line at the city gate crawled forward. Guards in gleaming armor checked each group’s papers with practiced suspicion.

Crap. I’d completely forgotten about entry papers.

“Stay behind me,” I ordered. “Let me handle this.”

The twins obeyed instantly, practically hiding behind my back. Pururun flattened herself against my leg like a well-trained pet.

When our turn came, a burly guard with a face like a brick wall eyed us up and down.

“Papers.”

I handed over the forged healer’s certificate and the letter of observation provided by Lowstone’s lord. The guard examined them closely, brow furrowing.

“An out-of-town healer, huh… And them?”

“My assistants. I’m on assignment for the Church.”

Lie with confidence. One of my most underrated skills.

The guard looked unconvinced, but apparently not enough to bother escalating. He handed the documents back with a grunt.

“Fine. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We crossed through the gates, and I exhaled slowly. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.

Welcome to the labyrinth.

***

The capital was everything I’d dreaded and worse. The streets were a chaotic maze where carriages jostled with shouting merchants, beggars pleaded for scraps, and adventurers strutted like peacocks. Perfume mingled with roasted meat, horse manure, and smoke in a heady, nauseating cocktail.

“So… what exactly are we looking for?” Mira asked.

“A place to sleep. Then a contact the innkeeper’s daughter recommended. And after that? Answers.”

“In that order?”

“Preferably.”

Pururun bounced happily through the crowds, earning curious looks from passersby. Some pointed, fascinated by the “domesticated slime.” Others edged away cautiously.

Eventually, I spotted a modest inn — cheap, clean enough, and anonymous. Exactly what we needed.

“Let’s try here.”

The innkeeper, a portly man with a merchant’s grin, greeted us enthusiastically.

“Welcome! A room for you and your… companions?”

I slid a few coins across the counter.

“One room. Three beds. Total discretion.”

He pocketed the money without another word. Perfect.

The room was small but tidy. The twins immediately collapsed onto their beds, asleep almost before their heads hit the pillows. Pururun perched by the window, watching the bustling street below with childlike wonder.

I sat down heavily on my bed, rubbing my temples.
We’d made it. Now came the hard part.

Finding information about the curse. Searching for remedies, libraries, skilled apothecaries. Maybe even real mages.
But for now, I needed rest. And time to think.

I looked at the twins sleeping soundly for the first time in days. At Pururun, glowing faintly by the window.

“This shitty world,” I muttered. “At least I’ve got a mission now.”

Saving those girls. Proving that medicine could beat superstition and hate. And giving Being X the biggest middle finger imaginable.

I allowed myself a tired, crooked smile.
This was only the beginning.

The beginning of a war against this rotten world. A war I fully intended to fight — with a scalpel, a slime, and two dhampir girls at my side.

***

The next morning, a strange sound woke me.
Groggy, I blinked at the quivering mass next to my bed. Pururun was trembling with excitement.

“What is it now?”

She wobbled, producing urgent little noises.

“Oh no. Did you eat something weird again or — ”

Then I heard it.
A sound that froze me completely.

“Eth…an.”

I sat bolt upright. The twins, now awake, stared wide-eyed at Pururun.

“She… she talked?” Lyra whispered.

“Sounds like it.”

“Eth…an!” Pururun repeated proudly, vibrating with joy.

I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Great. Now the slime talks. What’s next, a union contract?”

But despite my sarcasm, I couldn’t suppress a smile.

This world was still rotten, corrupt, and utterly absurd. But sometimes, it had moments like this.

And me — Ethan Russell, godless ER doctor turned accidental hero —
I wasn’t done yet.

“All right, girls. Up and at ’em. We’ve got work to do.”

As we stepped out into the bustling capital, I threw a silent challenge at the sky.

You hear me, Being X? I’m still an atheist. And I’m not bowing down.

Not now.
Not ever.