Labyrinthium Desperationis by Drogan_Wolf | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Chapter 5

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The clutching and clinging hands disappeared as he plummeted down a hole that opened under his feet. Falling through the darkness, it seemed appropriate somehow. Claustrophobia and agoraphobia combined had been about to overwhelm him while bein surrounded by people, and their endless babbling had made it even worse.

Still plunging through blackness; and still not caring as long as it carried him away.

He reveled in the darkness and the silence. Eyes closed and arms folded protectively over his chest, Joshua tried to make himself care about something - anything. Where were Brandy and Barney? Who cares; they can take care of themselves. What if he hit the bottom of this pit and died? It didn't really matter; at least then it would all be over.

How far was he falling anyway? The thought was brief and unimportant.

What about his mother? That mattered!

His eyes snapped open and he reached out to try and slow himself down, hands and feet scraping against the sides of the hole. It burned his hands, and felt as if his shoes were coming apart, but he didn't pull back - he refused to stop.

His downward trajectory suddenly took a turn towards the horizontal, and he summersaulted out of the pipe and tumbled across the ground. Lying on his back, trying to catch his breath, he hurt from head to toe. His vision was blurry and his own pulse, throbbing in his ears, was the only sound.

"Ow," he groaned out loud as he tried to move.

"That'll teach you, dumbass."

"What?" he painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear them.

"When you're falling," the other person said, "don't stop. That's what hurts, not the falling part."

"Your logic is unimpeachable," Joshua said in a strained voice, looking around.

"You can try it again if you want," the unknown man offered, pointing back to the hole.

"No, thanks," Joshua slowly climbed to his feet, knuckling his back as he straightened.

"Your choice," the man shrugged.

Turning, he finally saw the person who had been speaking. It was like looking into a mirror, only the reflection was older and shaggier. He wore a long unkempt beard, had squinty suspicious eyes, and was wearing ripped up jeans and a holy tee shirt that read, Due To Circumstances Beyond My Control, You're Still Here, with an big red arrow pointing to the ground.

"Hey, you're me!"

"I beg to differ," the shaggy man said, "but I believe that you are me."

"Whatever. Where are we?" he began looking around.

They were at the base of a high cliff, the hole he had just fallen out of was a black void in the surface. The night sky was full of stars, and a small campfire crackled in front of 'other' him. The older version had a long stick with what looked disturbingly like a rat that he had been roasting over the fire. A ring of trees surrounded them just inside the circle of firelight.

"You're in my camp," older Joshua grumbled, "feel free to rectify that situation at any time."

"Have you seen Mom?"

"Not for a very long time, I'm afraid," he mumbled sadly.

"Will you help me find her?" younger Joshua asked hopefully. Surely if anyone would help him, it would be himself.

"Absolutely not," the older man tested the rat before putting back over the fire.

"Why not? She's our mother!"

"There's people out there," he vaguely indicated 'out there' as being beyond his camp.

"Of course there are! Brandy's out there looking for mom too."

"I don't like people much," he hunched his shoulders in as if to keep out the cold.

"You don't like people? How do you get along then, eh?"

"By not leaving my camp," he growled angrily, "and by not inviting anybody in. People are nothing but trouble. They'll hurt you, take advantage of you... and they'll leave you," he finished in a hoarse whisper.

"Fine," younger Joshua spat, "stay here and be alone. But I'm going 'out there', and I will find our mother, with or without your help."

"Good luck with that," he said dismissively without even looking up, "but if you're smart you'll give up and just go home. Or crawl back into that hole you fell out of."

"What are you doing?" Julie, his biological sister asked, walking out of the woods carrying a casserole dish in her hands.

"Julie? How did you get here?"

She rolled her eyes, "I ask myself that every time I come here."

"I get that," he said, glancing at his older self, hunched over the fire.

"Wait," Julie stopped, "you're not him?"

"Hell no. Not yet at least."

"Go away," Older Josh said, "all of you. It's getting too crowded around here." He was rocking forwards and backward now, arms wrapped protectively around himself.

"Here. I brought you a casserole so you don't have to keep eating rat," she laid the dish on the ground next to him. "Love you, brother."

"You're nice to him?" younger Josh asked. 

"He's my brother," she shrugged, "and so are you, I guess." She hugged him fiercely.

"I'm trying to find Mom. Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, of course. She's at the castle," she said as if it were obvious.

"The castle? Where's that?"

"Just take that path and it'll lead you right to it."

"Thanks sis. That's what I've been looking for."

"I have to go now. But be careful; it's crowded up there." She gave him another hug. "I'll see you later. Hopefully without him."

"Yes go," older Josh yelled, "both of you go away!"

"How did I become such an curmudgeon?" he asked himself as he strode into the trees.

He tromped along for awhile, happy to be away from that shaggy antisocial person. He fumed about how he could just give up on people. How could he not even try? He sighed deeply and tried to calm himself down. It was pointless to get that upset about something he had no control over.

"What have we here?" an ancient-sounding voice spoke.

Joshua came to a skidding stop to keep from running into the odd character. It looked like a turtle that was walking upright on it's hind legs, but with a long white beard and round spectacles. A long knitted stole hung around it's neck, and a tall pointy hat sat atop it's head as it peered curiously at the man who had nearly run him over.

"Oh, hello. My name is Joshua. Nice to meet you."

"Is it indeed?" the turtle said cryptically, thumping his tall wooden staff on the ground.

"So far it is, yes,"

'Very good," it chuckled, "well played."

"I don't suppose you've seen my mother around anywhere, have you? She's an older lady, kind of short, curly white hair and wearing a white nightgown?"

"Well," the turtle mused, "your mother, is it?"

"Yes, that's right. Have you seen her?"

"Well..." it began, but then trailed off, eyes closed as if it had gone to sleep.

"Well?" Joshua prompted.

"Well," it repeated, producing a long-stemmed pipe from somewhere and putting it in it's mouth.

"Yes?"

"I believe that I have, indeed, seen such a woman," it puffed idly on the pipe and blew out smoke rings that floated up over it's head.

"That's terrific," Joshua beamed, "where did you see her?"

"Well," it began again, blowing more smoke rings.

"Well?"

"Well I can't rightly remember," it's brows furrowed in thought.

"Great."

"Hold on now," the turtle said, "don't be in such a hurry. I remember that she seemed like such a nice lady."

"Yes she is," Joshua agreed, "and I'm trying to find her."

"Good for you, lad. Good for you."

"So where did you see her?"

"Well," it hedged again, "I'm trying to remember. By the way, do you have anything to trade?"

"Ah," he nodded, "I get it now. What do you want?"

"Oh, well," he thought for a moment, "do you have anything with a turtle on it? I'm rather fond of turtles you know."

"No I don't..." he trailed off as he remembered the medicine bag in his pocket, "actually I do." He pulled out the beaded pouch and showed it to the old tortoise.

"Oh my," it exclaimed, "that's quite magnificent."

"This means a great deal to me," Joshua explained, "and to my mother."

"I can see why."

"So if I give this to you, I need to know exactly where she is."

"Exactly? I couldn't tell you exactly, even if I knew. But I can tell you where she was when I met her. That's as exact as I am able to be."

Joshua hesitated. His girlfriend had made this bag by hand for his mother, and it had significant spiritual importance to them both. If he gave it to this person, or thing, they would probably never see it again. On the other hand, if it led him to her then it might be worth it.

"Okay, fine," he decided, "here you go."

A little while later he was doggedly following the path the the turtle-man had indicated. And just as it had said, he was coming up to a walled city with two guards posted on either side of the gates that led into the town itself. They leaned lazily against their poleaxes, seeming to be asleep.

"Oi there," one of them shouted as he drew near, "you can't be here."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Cause you've never been here before, that's why not."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Course it does," the skinny guard said, "ye can't come in unless ye been here afore."

"But how could I have been here before if I can't get in the first time? It's impossible."

"Never you mind that," he sniffed, "you just turn around an' go back."

"What if I have been here before?" he asked the guards.

"Well now that's a different story," he straightened up, "have you?"

Joshua thought for a moment. He wasn't the sort of person to tell lies, generally speaking, but this was important. And it didn't look like he was going to be able to get in, other than to lie.

"Of course I have been," he declared with false confidence.

"Well why didn't you day so?" the guards pulled the gates open to allow him through.

The town was pretty much what he had gotten used to seeing in this place. There were wood and stone cottages with the occasional mud shack. The streets all seemed to slant upwards as they proceeded away from the wall, until they rose up to a castle at the top of the hill. But the streets didn't run straight at all; they twisted and turned so that it was impossible to see more than a block ahead.

His sister and the tortoise man had told him that his mother would be in the castle on the hill, so that was where he had to go. He chose a road at random and started making his way towards the castle as best as he could, always trying to keep moving uphill.

"How are you holding up, dear?" a woman stepped out of a doorway in front of him.

"Just fine, thank you," he told her and kept walking.

"I'm so sorry," a man appeared from around the corner, reaching out for his hand.

"Thank you so much," he said, shaking the man's hand without stopping.

"We're sorry for your loss," another man said, leading a group of people towards him.

"Not again," Joshua pleaded under his breath. To the man he said, "Thank you."

Instead of being mobbed and surrounded, he found that if he acknowledged their well wishes, then they would go away. It was amazing! So he took a deep breath and said thank you a hundred times, shook hands just about as many times, and clapped people on the back as they passed. It was as if he had suddenly learned to swim, moving through the crowd like a fish through water.

Finally he was through the crowd, the streets now free and clear of people. So he ran. He sprinted as fast as his aching feet could carry him, skidding around corners and bouncing off walls. As long as he was heading uphill, he knew that he would reach his goal eventually.

Finally he was at the foot of the castle. He was breathing heavily, not being used to running, but determination and adrenaline kept him moving. He had to skirt around the castle wall until he found the front gate. Heart pounding, he ran through the gate.

And stopped in his tracks.

There was another mob of people here, but this time they were packed into the castle doors, all trying to get in. It was like being at the back of the line at a drive-through. As he approached, he heard them clambering and arguing among themselves about needing to get inside, some pushing others in an attempt get in front.

"Excuse me," Joshua said as he came to the group, "may I get through please?"

"Wait your turn," a wart-nosed woman snapped, "we all want in."

"I just want to get to my mother," he explained patiently.

"We all want to see her," on old man said, hat in his hand, "we want to say good-bye."

"So do I," Joshua pleaded, "please may I get through?"

"You get to see her all the time," a hunchback fat woman chided, "you should give us a turn too!"

"Fine," he sighed, and stood at the back of the group, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

"Joshy, what are you doing?" Brandy asked as she emerged from one of the twisted streets.

"Waiting," he grumped, "just like everybody else," he waved a hand indicating the people packed into the doorway.

"She's your mother. You shouldn't have to wait."

And with that she stepped up to the people at the back of the line and excused herself as she gently moved them out of the way. She waved for Joshua to follow her as she continued drilling through the press of people, being as polite as she could. 

"Tell you mother we love her," someone told him as they passed.

"Give her our love."

"Tell her we're thinking of her."

"Give her a hug for me."

"Yes," he said, "I will. Thank you. I'll do that," continuing the pleasantries as the went.

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