First Labyrinth Exploration (7): A Prayer for the Lost
“Run!!” “Above! Watch the sky above!”
Warnings poured in from every direction. Fighting the creatures leaping from the ground was difficult enough, but the monsters that charged while executing high jumps were even harder to handle.
Damn it, I can’t see properly and it’s driving me insane.
I checked on my struggling companions and activated a buff. A circular magic circle inscribed with white runes appeared on the floor. It didn’t brightly illuminate the area, but it produced a gentle glow just bright enough to make out our surroundings.
“Nice!”
“This much light is plenty!”
Even that soft radiance made it clear where things were lurking. Normally, at the start of combat, we would light fires to secure visibility. But that wasn’t an option this time. Our opponents were monsters that grew stronger by devouring light.
Too dark, and we couldn’t see their attacks. Too bright, and we would only be empowering our enemies. It was an absurd dilemma. When my buff allowed everyone to check their surroundings, the party members relaxed and began focusing on the fight in earnest.
“Looks like that can draw them in too, huh?”
One of the team members even noticed that the monsters were attracted to my buff. They realized the creatures weren’t merely fond of eating light—they were obsessed with it. On top of that, the light created by my buff couldn’t be consumed.
Screeech!
Because it was completely antithetical to the monsters’ nature, they couldn’t absorb it. Thanks to the buff laid across the floor, the party was recovering small amounts of stamina every second. They pressed the attack with renewed vigor.
When we had discovered the path leading to the lower floors, I thought we would find the missing comrades quickly. Instead, we kept encountering nothing but monsters. Even though the creatures knew they couldn’t eat this particular light, they craved it endlessly. As a result, the combat team was able to dispatch the monsters at a pace that made their earlier difficulties seem almost comical.
“They’re smaller than I expected. In the darkness they looked huge.”
Only after every monster was dead did we finally light proper fires. Once the area brightened completely, the others began to examine the creatures they hadn’t been able to see before.
“They were probably even larger in the actual darkness.”
“Do these have their own names too? Like the yeti?”
The creatures we had faced most often on the upper floors were the white-furred, bear-like yetis. Princess Reciel had made thorough preparations before entering the labyrinth, including gathering as much information about the monsters we might encounter as possible. After asking around, she had managed to obtain an expensive monster encyclopedia that compiled data on creatures from the old labyrinth. It was proving to be worth every coin.
“It says the danger level varies greatly depending on how much light they’ve consumed. We handled them quite comfortably. Priest Arthur’s buff played a major role.”
“If we had kept lighting fires every time it got dark, it would have been far more dangerous. The most important thing was that you immediately identified the monster and warned us.”
When we first encountered them, the lights had begun vanishing one by one, and everyone had scrambled to relight the fires. But someone who had read the encyclopedia recognized that these were creatures that grew stronger by eating light. Thanks to that knowledge, we had been able to defeat them using only the minimum necessary illumination.
It would have taken us a long time to figure out we shouldn’t light fires.
Although we had safely eliminated the shadow goblins, no one’s expression was entirely bright. I knew exactly why their faces looked that way, so I glanced toward where Princess Reciel stood. She was speaking with the leader. As I drew closer, their conversation reached my ears.
“How much food remains?”
“Two weeks’ worth.”
“If we ration carefully?”
“We could stretch it five more days.”
“…Even turning back immediately will be cutting it close.”
It had taken us well over twenty days to reach this point. Because we had to carve our own path, the return journey shouldn’t take quite as long. Still, no one could predict when an unexpected crisis might strike inside the labyrinth, so we needed a generous time buffer.
“You must make a decision now.”
If we turned back like this, finding the missing comrades would become impossible forever. Not that they were likely to be alive in the first place.
“…We’re turning back.”
He could not choose to endanger the entire party by stubbornly searching for the lost. Princess Reciel’s expression remained grim after she finished speaking with the leader. I had meant to walk past without acknowledging it, but her face kept haunting me until I couldn’t simply leave.
“Princess.”
“…Priest Arthur.”
“Are you all right?”
“I made a promise to my sister. I have to endure this.”
The weight of death seemed to press heavily on Princess Reciel’s heart. It was not good for the person who should be the party’s anchor to appear so dejected. Still, the fact that she understood she must overcome it was a relief.
She seems to be holding up better than Princess Canaby feared.
Leaving her like this would clearly require a long time for recovery.
Times like this make me truly grateful I’m a priest…
I could not turn away from someone in need. What did a priest do? Listen to people’s troubles and offer comfort when their hearts were heavy. That was a priest’s duty.
How could I call myself a priest with my head held high if I ignore what I should be doing?
Rather than criticizing corrupt priests, I needed to reflect on whether I was properly fulfilling my own role.
“Would you like to try praying?”
“Praying?”
Given the high probability that the missing were dead, I was suggesting we at least pray for their souls’ repose.
“I will pray with you.”
“Pray with you, Priest?”
“I believe prayer will bring you comfort.”
The princess looked momentarily dazed by my suggestion, but soon agreed and promised to visit me that night. I thought that praying together and offering prayers for the lost would help lift her spirits.
I prepared the simple prayer room more diligently than usual and waited for the princess to arrive that night. I normally didn’t pay much attention to attire, but today I dressed in proper priestly robes.
“Welcome, Princess.”
“…Did you really call me here to pray?”
The moment she stepped inside, Princess Reciel noticed my clothing and asked.
“Of course! Everything is ready. Please come this way.”
I genuinely didn’t understand why she seemed so startled when I had clearly invited her to pray. I guided Princess Reciel to the prepared space and we began.
“What exactly should I pray for?”
“Anything weighing on your heart right now. Anything you’ve been keeping secret from others. Speak freely. You’d be surprised how much it helps to let it all out.”
Even though it meant confessing to an invisible god, there was a vast difference between doing it and not. Wasn’t that why so many people visited temples for confession? Princess Reciel had surely prayed before, yet she asked awkwardly for guidance because she couldn’t immediately decide what to say.
She knelt on the cushion, clasped her hands, and closed her eyes. I sat beside her and did the same.
“……”
“……”
After hesitating at first, Princess Reciel became deeply focused the moment prayer began, as though the awkwardness had never existed. For my part, the instant I started praying I forgot her presence entirely and concentrated on my own devotions.
I prayed for the repose of the missing. The most unsettling question was whether those who had died inside the labyrinth could truly return fully to the Sun God’s embrace.
Please do not lose your way. Return safely to the Father.
Because I was so focused, I didn’t notice how deep into the night it had become. When the candle in the prayer room had melted halfway, Princess Reciel finally opened her eyes.
I had suggested prayer, but I hadn’t expected her to devote herself so completely. A wave of admiration rose within me.
“Whew… my legs have gone numb.”
“Would you like me to support you?”
“Yes. Please.”
After kneeling for so long, numb legs were inevitable. With my help, Princess Reciel rose and moved to a chair. Though exhaustion showed on her face from the lengthy prayer, her expression was far brighter than before.
“My heart is still heavy, but I feel better than earlier. To be honest, I’ve never prayed with this much focus before. I used to let my mind wander. I know that’s not something a priest should hear.”
“It happens. There’s no need to worry.”
It was only natural for a child to struggle with concentration during prayer. How could you explain the reason for praying to someone who didn’t even understand what a god was? Most children simply followed their parents to the temple without truly knowing why. Only by attending regularly from a young age did they gradually learn.
“This feels like the first time I’ve ever prayed properly. My head feels clear, my mind sharp. My heart has settled into calm as well.”
It seemed the prayer had worked even better than I anticipated.
“If prayer feels like this, I should have done it properly long ago. If I had known what it could be like, it would have helped me so much.”
Her reaction was different from what I expected, but the marked improvement in Princess Reciel’s expression meant I had nearly accomplished what I set out to do. I had originally planned to have a calm conversation after the prayer to gently draw out the words she kept buried inside. Yet looking at her now, it seemed there was no need.
Through prayer alone, Princess Reciel had already organized her thoughts and firmly steadied her heart.