You’re lost.
You walk over to the city information desk and ask for a map. You’ve been here for a while now, but these all-consuming streets seem to have been designed by Deadalus, and you feel like on of the 14 young men and maidens offered up to the Minotaur. You’re half expecting to see a map marked by strings, cracked walls and abandoned shields. Of all things, its Greek mythology that your tired, wandering mind recalls.
Non-existent wind plasters an obscure map to your face, not unlike the one you imagined. You wonder what you would’ve got had you asked for a trail of bread-crumbs or sparkling red shoes to take you home.
You walk over to a pensive passer-by, the first you’ve seen, brooding over a piece of paper that from afar looks very much like a treasure map from a pirate movie.
Sir, could you tell me the way Home?
He looks up from his map, notices yours.
Did you get this from the information desk?
Yes.
That’s the wrong map.
You look from your map to his, back to yours. He’s gone.
There are no walls in Oblivia, you notice – aside from the towering stone monument that separates you from Esperenza. There are no walls, yet you hold in your hand the map of a labyrinth – the labyrinth of thoughts that Oblivia is. You see, you are King Minos, the sacrifice and the Minotaur all in one. You offer yourself up to be destroyed by your demons, while you look on in amazement and twisted joy. The labyrinth grows as you do, and right at the heart of it grows Oblivia.
You had no Ariadne in Esperenza to gift you a string. And as you turn the corner in your mind, arriving at a familiar abandoned shield, you realize –
You’re lost.
