She squinted her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. The edges of her mouth turned into a scowl at what was before her. The path from the last hole led her to a chasm, with large circular platforms bearing extensions to form a bridge. She was currently standing on solid ground, but she would have to cross the wooden platforms suspended over the abyss. The main problem with this was that said platforms were spinning. They weren't rotating quickly, but knowing she would have to time her shots to make it fly in the right direction was an annoyance. Not only did she have to worry about losing the ball, but she had to make sure she didn't fall off as well. The maze was upping the ante again, swiftly and surely.

Slow and steady won the race, as the tale went about the turtle and the rabbit. Shiloh knew what she had to do, even if she didn't like it. No large swings, no hard strikes. Controlled tapping was key. Too much momentum would make it roll off the platforms. Too little and it would fall short. "Aim for the middle…" She muttered to herself. As long as it landed and stayed close to the middle, then it was safe. Taking in a deep breath, she emptied her mind. Thinking would only interfere with her movement, and she needed to putt the ball without hesitation. A low arc with the club sent the ball into a gentle pitch. The ball landed a little closer to her side than the middle, then stopped in place. Good, just as planned. She crossed onto the platform when the bridge extension came around towards her. There were two more of these circular spinning platforms before the other side of the chasm was in sight. Again, she inhibited herself from thinking too much. She had to stay calm so her shots would be steady.

Another shot, another almost perfect landing. It was a little more to the right than she wanted, but it was good enough. With careful observation, she crossed over to the second platform. There was one more left before she could return to solid ground. The pressure was on, having come this far on her first attempt. Forcibly clearing her thoughts again, she took a few more minutes to stabilize. Breathe in…breathe out. Wait until you felt it was the right moment. Then, when everything was aligned–a swing. The club rolled the ball up onto the head, then released it into a beautiful parabolic arc into the air. This time the ball landed dead-center, with a few bounces before settling. Now, she only had one more putt left to go. Not wanting to ruin her chances, she decided to use teleportation to get across. She was so close, yet so far. The emotions writhing beneath were trying to force their way up, but she had to press them back down. Not yet, not until she claimed her victory.

This time she didn't hold back and made a hard swing, sending the ball high and far. It landed with a bounce meters behind the hole, rolling back and forth. Swiftly landing on the chasm's opposite side, she wondered where the flag was. The hole wasn't in sight. Following the grassy green, her eyes traced a path until…she saw it. The hole and flag wasn't on ground level. They were up on a high level, raised on a ledge a meter high. So this was the real challenge. Finding her ball, she looked back at the ledge, then at her current position. A high shot with a short distance was needed here. With all her hopes and dreams behind her backswing, Shiloh sent it up into the heavens. Then, shading her eyes she waited as the white speck began to fall to the earth. It landed! Bouncing high, it went up and down, up and down, up and down…until finally, it rolled down. Her first complete success since the start of the game.

"This can't be safe…It's–it's impossible." Standing on one side of the chasm, he had seen the words on the wall before his entry. They stated in engraved print: 'Walk by faith and not by sight'. But there was nothing here to walk on! How would he know where to step and where there was nothing to catch him if he fell? "No…no I don't want to go! There's nothing there!" He had made the mistake of gazing into what he found as an endless abyss below him, and now was in the clutches of absolute terror. If only he had a way to cross that didn't involve leaping into the void! The prospect of plunging to his death was enough to finally force him to breathe out vapors, and as he hyperventilated, a slow-moving fog began to fill the air. The more he thought about it the more distressed he became, to the point that the whole chasm was nearly obscured.

As the fog thickened, a miraculous event took place. The fog began to outline shapes in the area, revealing that contrary to his common sense–there was an actual path to walk upon. Calming himself to where he wouldn't suffer a breakdown, he noticed the strange phenomenon while breathing in and out. He couldn't believe it! So the writing on the wall was telling the truth. Realizing this was no time to dawdle, he quickly began climbing onto the parts that had been revealed. He had to hurry before his mist dissipated. Continuously creating a steady flow of fog, Cymbel picked his way across the invisible bridge. Finally, he jumped onto the very much visible–and solid ground breathing a sigh of relief. Falling to his knees, he hugged the ground as he let out sobs of happiness. Never before had he been so grateful for solid ground. Oh sweet security! 

Perhaps the past few ordeals had strengthened his spirit albeit slightly, as he felt he was recovering from stress somewhat faster than before. Hopefully that was the case. He still didn't see Shiloh, but he believed that she would be alright. He believed in her as herself and not as a deity. When they met again, surely she would be so proud to hear how far he had come.

Location number twelve. Keeping track of her progress was starting to become difficult. Hours must have passed by now, and she wouldn't be surprised if a day or more had flown. There was something distinctly wrong about this new area, and it was on the tip of her tongue. Maybe it was the odd absence of the lush green grass she had been so accustomed to, or the barren earth she was now standing on. Or maybe it was the rows of bare trees, devoid of any green in their gnarled branches. Certainly not the mobs of crows sitting on said branches. Of course not. Why did everything here scream 'murder'? She'd climbed up a ladder and went down a trail only to find this sight. There was a flag at the end of all this, but small suspicious craters in the ground were dotting the area. 

As she lined up her shot, a sudden sound of hissing led to a burst of steam shooting boiling liquid into the air. The unexpected jet made her jump, and she covered her mouth and nose at the sight of the billowing fumes. Maybe it was time to put on that mask she had in her pile of things. A plague doctor mask appeared, and she set the club down to put it on. There, now she could avoid at least some of the vapors. It was a straight shot ahead to the hole, but by now expecting things to be easy was wishful thinking. Sending off a powerful swing, the ball flew like an arrow loosed from a bow. An excellent flight of at least twenty meters, then the rapid descent to the ground. With an extra ball in hand, she ran to find it. Then, the moment she had been afraid of had arrived. As if waiting for an unknown signal, once the ball was no longer in the air all of the crows in the area took flight and began to swarm. They were going for the ball! 

No, she was not going to be set back again. Not after all she had gone through! No matter who or what came in her way, she wasn't going to stand by and let them push her around. With a gale at her back, she sped forwards with great speed into the heart of the mass of crows. Wildly swinging an electrified club, shrill cries and squawks turned into a cacophony enough to drive one mad. The noise was unbearable, and she was feeling that rising anger coming to the surface. "Bloody filchers with wings…get out of my way!" The gale turned to a maelstrom, and the vortex sucked all the birds in. Releasing it into a scattering of winds, a flurry of feathers rained down as the crows were disbanded and flung to the opposite sides of the area. With that major distraction gone, she went to find her ball–only to realize that it wasn't there. Did she accidentally pick it up with the air currents? No, surely she'd have noticed. "Where is it? Where'd it go?" If sabotage by others was hateful, then self-sabotage was ten times worse. Did she just drop the rock onto her own foot?

The whistle of another erupting vent made her jolt again. Covering her ears, Shiloh's eyes grew wide as she saw that familiar white shape now rising into the air… The cawing returned, and the crows were coming back! "No, not again! Not this time! I won't let you! Get out, get out, get ooouuuuttt!" Her voice screeched in a rising scale. A blast of electrical discharge radiated from her person, and all the birds were locked in stasis. The vent's spray had run out of steam, and the ball was falling back down into the vent's opening. Quickly she smacked it with the flat side of the club head, moving it further forward. Furiously rushing ahead to get the ball to the hole before she lost track of the birds, she managed to roll it in as her focus on maintaining stasis waned.

"Ah I know this one!" This was a puzzle he had heard of when he was a child. It was a story involving a wolf, a rooster, an ox, and a goat. All four needed to cross the river, but there were weight limitations and certain animals could not be left together. The wolf would eat the goat if left with it, the ox couldn't carry the wolf with it at the same time. The rooster had to go with one of the herbivores as it was the lightest and most flexible. A few trips back and forth with the ferry finally brought all four beasts across. Just when he was wondering why this seemed so simple, the walls opened up and revealed four beasts behind metal gates! He had celebrated too soon–this was the true challenge! There was a roc, a minotaur, a chimera, and a warg all looking at him with bloodthirsty eyes. He now had to choose his first opponent, neither which were preferable in any shape or form. With much unease, he picked the chimera. 

The gate was unlocked and the horrid beast was bounding towards him! With a scream, he cast a spell–causing blinding light to flash across the small room. It staggered everyone in the chamber, including himself. For the chimera it was especially bad, since that meant four pairs of blinded eyes instead of two. Calling a sword into his hand, he began slashing, releasing sharp cuts from a razor sharp wind. He hated doing this, he really did. But it was trying to kill him. Finally when all was quiet, he opened his eyes to see the fallen body of the chimera. Feeling terrible, he watched as the body shimmered and dispersed into particles of light. It…was an illusion? It must have been more than that, as it bore substance a moment ago. Conjured constructs, designed to test his mettle was his answer.

The three remaining beasts awaited his next choice. This time, he picked the minotaur. The bipedal taurine creature thundered towards him with hammer in hand–and he shrieked while backing away. Casting a spell of illusion, he made himself blend in with the many others of his copies. Somehow it hit one that wasn't him, and he took the chance to create a veil of fog. The fog quickly filled up the chamber, and the minotaur was snorting in rage. But soon, its movements were starting to become sluggish and its senses dulled. Keeping quiet, he waited until he heard a heavy thud. When the fog dissipated, the minotaur was unconscious. Its body then shimmered and vaporized. With difficulty, he managed to defeat the warg and roc. Once all were gone, the door to the next area opened for him to progress. Sheathing his sword, he gave a prayer of thanks to the stars for their benevolence.

"If you come within a single foot of my ball, I swear on the Conclave I will roast you in front of your own brethren." Shiloh glared intensely at a bush-tailed squirrel sitting in the middle of the grassy meadow that was eyeing her golf ball. She was back in the spring-green pastures of the wildflowers surrounded by woodland. There was still more to this terrible game, and things quickly went downhill after the appearance of Dalanesca. Perhaps somebody upstairs thought she had it too easy, and thought she needed an even greater level of challenge. Her frustration and anger were now at a continuous simmer, having still carried over from the crows and steam vents. The course itself wasn't too difficult to pass through, but now the local wildlife was showing an unhealthy interest in that little pockmarked white rock of hers. And if they took that out of bounds, then she would have to start from the very beginning.

She was beyond exasperated to the point where she was irritated at everything. She was already giving the evil eye to bluebirds and robins. Shiloh first noticed this particular red squirrel when she was halfway through the length of the fairway. At first she thought it was just a typical curious rodent, and expected it to go back to whatever tree it came out of. But soon she noticed it was approaching her position with an abnormal level of boldness. She was sure she didn't have any food on her to give it, and there weren't any acorns or tasty tidbits lying around. It was then she saw the look in its eyes, and knew this little creature was a sworn enemy. That little greedy cheek-stuffer wanted that ball for who knows what, and she wasn't going to give it to him. Or her. It didn't matter at this point. She was already paranoid after experiencing Serci's unintentional blunder and that bearded man's callous ignorance. She would not suffer sabotage again.

Keeping a wary eye on that squirrel, she was moving ahead gradually. But whenever she looked away, the squirrel would move. That little bloody thief was waiting for her not to notice to steal it out from under her nose. When it was within earshot she yelled, warning that if it chose to be a pest it had better prepare to take the consequences. It probably didn't understand a word, but it should at least pick up on her tone. The flag was in sight, and she could see the outline of the waving cloth clearly. Just a few more shots, and she would be on to the next area. It was then that the squirrel decided to make its move. Making a mad dash from its seat on the grass, it was heading straight for its prize. Shiloh caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye, and brought down her club with a healthy current of electricity. It leaped back and tumbled around, scampering away to a meager twenty feet. It still wasn't fully ready to leave that ball alone, so she made a quick putt to decrease the time in between shots. Under different circumstances, it would have been comical. But she was out of humor and out of patience to put up with shenanigans. She was more than glad to leave that troublesome rodent behind.

"Bank left, bank left!" Shouting above the roaring waves, Cymbel's hair was damp and clinging to his face. Paddling the oars of a small boat while being carried along a powerful current, he was trying to navigate the flooded tunnels of the maze. He was first hit by a wall of water, then tossed into a wooden boat. Soggy and shivering, he had clung onto the sides until he got hold of the oars. Rowing upstream was pointless, so the best he could do was move the direction he was going. This was not as easy as expected, since the tunnels were filled with their own share of dangers. Sharp-toothed fish would leap out from the water, forcing him to duck for cover. Sometimes the ceiling had spikes which were deadly when the water rose at a bad moment. There were sea creatures with electricity coming from their bodies. And then a tentacle from some deep-sea horror would try to grab at his little vessel.

With only the oars as his weapons and method of horizontal movement, it was a torrent of aquatic threats after another. He had to smack the tentacles off the boat's wooden body, while dodging the hungry biters. There were even sharp rocks that forced him to frantically paddle to one side or the other. The rolling and lurching motion would've made him sick if his stomach weren't empty. The worst of all had to be when a rogue wave crashed onto him, and he hung onto the boat by his fingers. Why was there a series of flooded tunnels in here to begin with? None of this made sense! Spitting out another mouthful of water, he coughed and continued steering. The raging waters were approaching their end, marked by the biggest waterfall he had seen. The little boat flew off the edge, gliding through the air to crash into the stone floor of an open set of dry tunnels. Cymbel tumbled out, a dripping mess. The oars snapped from the impact and the boat's hull splintered as well. Wringing himself dry, he took out a lantern and tried to bake his clothes so they weren't damp anymore. Shivering, he sneezed. Wrapping himself in a dry set of clothes he summoned, he took a rest to recover his energy.

"…Are you serious? What is this?!!" The path led her to a building, with arrows pointing to where the flag was. Inside was a series of swinging pendulums obscuring the way to the fourteenth hole. "How is this even possible? You're kidding me! You are bloody kidding me?! I have to make this in ONE SHOT!? AGHHH!!" Throwing her hands up in outrage, she yelled incomprehensible things to the sky. Frankly there wasn't much else to say about her attempts aside from screaming, cursing the entire genealogical line of the creators of this game, and yelling about how much she hated this. She had to retry her shots several times. As soon as it cleared some pendulums, another would come to knock it out of alignment. Frustration was an understatement. At one point she just lined up a row of balls, taking hits as soon as she could send them. She had gone far beyond the point of caring. She just wanted to get out of this never-ending torment.

  After an indeterminate amount of tries, one lucky shot made it past the pendulums and went around the rim into the hole. By then she had bent several clubs, all of which reverted back to their initial state right after. She stomped off to the next area through a portal that opened once she had cleared the challenge. Angry mutterings were last heard as she disappeared from sight, and the portal closed up. Unfortunately for the deity, she still had several more rounds to go before she could escape this infernal maze.

A scream of rage shook him awake. He had fallen asleep from being worn out after rowing like a madman, and now his clothes were dry again. "Shiloh?" He looked all around, unable to see where it had come from. It was time to move onward, as he couldn't stay here. Maybe Shiloh was waiting for him back at the orbs' shrines already. Shielding his eyes, he walked into an idyllic grassy area. The ceiling however, was still present so he was still inside the confines of the maze even now. There was a small shrine at the center which had a place to put something. A scroll on the basin read in calligraphic letters: 'I bear veins but cannot bleed, give me what sheds from my wounds.' Another puzzle, a welcome sight after nearly dying to beasts and traps. So he needed to collect what the shrine wanted, and if he was correct he would be allowed passage out. This was far more preferable to deathtraps and scares.

"What has veins but cannot bleed? It can't be anything that lives. But most things with veins do bleed, regardless." Searching the contained meadow, he found a tree oozing sap. Unsure if this was the right answer, he picked a piece off and went to the shrine. Placing the dried bit of resin into the bowl, he waited for its response. The sample glowed, then burst into flames violently! Staggering back, he felt that this wasn't the right answer to the riddle. But what else had veins? The trees didn't have blood, but if cut the sap would flow. In a sense, it still did bleed then. Dejected, he decided to search more carefully. Worn out, he took a break leaning against an stone outcropping in the artificially created scenery. Standing up to resume his search, he brushed off the back of his clothes to find some metallic flecks from a crumbled rock. "Isn't this mica? I'm surprised that even this was brought in." Then, realization dawned. Ores had veins! This stone was a bit metallic, wasn't it? When veins of ore were exposed nothing flowed out, making it a perfect fit to the puzzle. When the miners chipped the rock, it would shed fragments but no liquid.

Taking the rock the mica had come from, he rushed to the shrine and put it into the basin. The sample glowed, and this time vanished in a less sudden manner. The shrine began to radiate a warm glow, and he felt his fatigue wash away. Feeling refreshed and healed, he saw the scroll's words change. 'You have passed the trial, now proceed. May success follow the wise and prudent.' The rumbling of stone that he had missed for so long returned, as the wall opened up to show a flight of stairs leading up. After walking around in the dark and braving the raging waters, he was returning to the higher levels again. 

Fifteen. How much longer already? Crossing a bridge over a babbling brook, she briefly glanced to watch as leaves flowed down the running water. It was a small comfort in this horrible construct of divine design, but she still had to push forward. There was a giggling, and she turned her head to see who it was. There was a small child peeking out from behind some bushes, her curly red hair making her easy to spot in the midst of green. Frowning, Shiloh went straight to setting up her first swing. It bounced off from where she wanted, and rolled a little too close to the boundary for comfort. It was still salvageable, all she had to do was hit it back to the center and then work up from there. Then the giggling returned, and the little redheaded child poked her head out from behind a tree. She was right by the golf ball, and Shiloh knew what was going on. "No. No! Back away right now! Do not touch that ball!" The girl giggled and reached down to grab the golf ball. "I said do not touch that–frrrghhhh!" The end of that sentence devolved into angry gibberish as the child deliberately snatched it up and disappeared into the forest shrubbery.

That child. That bleeding cheeky red-headed child. No, she had to stay calm. She had been angry for nearly all of the way here; she should be over this already. Back to starting…again. She might rant and rage, headbutt grown men into the distance, and give death threats to animals–but she had to draw the line somewhere. The more she dwelled on it, the longer it would take for her to get out of here. Yes, that was right. This was something she needed to remember. Shiloh took another swing, this time better. Going up to its new landing spot, she noted she would have to angle her hit around. The little gremlin was nowhere to be seen, so she should be in a clear for the time being. A clack sounded as it flew up, and padded along the trimmed grass. Running as fast as she was able, she arrived at the ball before the little girl showed up. A sigh of relief left her as she now only had a few putts left to get it in. 

A quick tap made the ball roll too far past the flag, and she was dashing over to intercept it before a certain someone else did. Placing the club's head firmly in back of the ball, she tapped with a little less power. Following the curve of the land, it smoothly entered without any further problems. Now she could breathe a little easier. The hedges opened up to a gazebo-styled landing, marking where her next shot would start. Somehow she had a nagging suspicion that she was being watched directly, and kept looking over her shoulder.

He could finally see Shiloh again. Back in the maze with translucent walls, he saw Shiloh hard at work. He himself had to follow a lit path to reach the end, and the light pulse's movements weren't easy to foresee. But when he had a few seconds to spare, he would look down and see how she fared. Every so often he would see a rustling in the trees and bushes surrounding the meadow. Sadly he couldn't warn her, as his voice couldn't reach her from here. Nearly losing sight of the light orb he quickly ran to catch up. The rustling continued, and he saw a mop of reddish hair emerge from the green leaves. What was that? Was it a child? No sooner had he seen it, it disappeared back into the shrubbery. How odd… But it didn't seem to be inherently malicious, so he didn't feel worried.

"No!" He almost stopped when he heard her speak. "Back away right now! Do not touch that ball!" Glancing down he saw the reddish mop of hair again, only this time it was a small child halfway out of the bushes instead of the top of its head. It was a child about three to five years of age from the size, and the giggling made him wonder if it was a boy or a girl. To his dismay the child snatched the ball from the edge of the grass and hid back into the plants, causing his friend to express her sentiment in unintelligible sounds. He felt bad watching without having a way to directly help. He almost fell behind the light orb guiding him down the maze. Silence was heard from below as he continued his winding trek through the pathways. This orb, was it truly leading him the right way? He was sure he had doubled back on a few areas a while ago. Keeping his attention in two places made it difficult to follow. 

By the time he was thirty minutes into his walk, he was serious doubting the credibility of this guiding orb. Were the walls moving around, or was he imagining it? Despite his misgivings, he chose to continue. Patience was a virtue after all, and if he turned away in haste he would have to restart his trek if he chose incorrectly. More time passed, and his diligence paid off. It led him to a tall, grey stone door with a dim sphere in the center. The light entered it, and the lines in the door lit up. The door parted, and a current of warm air greeted his face. Was he coming closer the end? If so, then they would be reunited soon. He couldn't wait to tell Shiloh of what he had went through.