The Garden at Twilight

Just a fleeting quarter of an hour had slipped by when the clocktower's chime echoed through the air, a hauntingly beautiful melody that sent shivers down their spines. They momentarily lifted their gaze from their plates, only to be drawn back to their meal. Yet it was the second chime, a mere fifteen minutes later, that truly unnerved them. As they looked up, the clock revealed that four hours had vanished since they began their lunch, and while a fast-moving clock might usually elicit little more than a shrug, it was the transformation of the sky that truly captivated their attention. The previously muted glow of the peculiar sky had transformed into a breathtaking canvas of sunset colors, even though the hour for twilight was still far off. A palpable tension enveloped the surroundings, thick and suffocating as if an enigmatic force was suspended in a breathless hush, waiting for the inevitable.

As the sky began to darken, Ryder glanced at his wristwatch. It indicated that only thirty minutes had gone by since their arrival, his watch read two o'clock while the clock tower chimed six. 

"What's going on?" said Misty while clinging to Valen's arm. 

"I'm uncertain, yet I believe it prudent for us to gather our belongings and seek a suitable spot near the entrance of the hedge maze. There, we may wait for the return of daylight before we go forward. I hope we can navigate the maze while there's light," said Ryder.

They all sprang into action, packing up in a flash, and I quickly followed their lead. I extended my hand to Biter, who eagerly slurped up the last bit of moisture and wriggled free from the dirt, scampering up my arm to settle on my shoulders. While it didn't do much in terms of physical support, having a little buddy like that really lifted my spirits. Watching the adventurers from afar was beginning to wear on me.

They pressed onward along the winding path, when an unsettling sound of crumbling stone pierced the stillness. A thunderous crack echoed, shattering the silence and jolting the adventurers into a state of alarm, their gazes drawn to the imposing statue of the boar. Max, his brow furrowed, stepped forward, reaching out to touch the fissured surface of the statue. His eyes fell upon the fragments cascading down onto a stone platform marked with the number six. "Strange, isn't it? It's breaking apart," he murmured, lifting a crumbling shard for the others to see, its edges jagged and sharp.

"Why would it suddenly fall to pieces?" Misty questioned, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

"I can't say, but this feels wrong," Valen replied, unease creeping into her tone.

Valen approached the lion, its scorpion tail poised in a menacing stance, still unblemished upon a platform bearing the number ten. "This one has a ten," she pondered aloud, returning to her companions with a sense of foreboding.

"Odd, there's a six here," Max said.

Herald's expression darkened as he moved between the lion and the crumbling boar. He scrutinized the deteriorating statue, then the six on its platform, before his gaze darted to the clock tower, his eyes widening in terror. He recoiled from the statue, racing to the other figures, frantically reading the numbers inscribed on their bases. The serpent loomed with an eight, while the tree-like woman towered over a platform marked twelve. "We must leave! Now!" Herald shouted, his face drained of color, eyes wide with a horror that clawed at his sanity.

"Why? What's wrong?" said Max and then he suddenly stumbled back. "It moved, the tail of this boar statue moved."

A sense of urgency clawed at Herald's throat as he said, "We must flee this place at once!" With a flick of his wrist, the tip of his staff ignited, casting a flickering glow that enveloped the boar in a shimmering barrier. It was a fragile shield, one that would likely shatter beneath the weight of those menacing tusks, yet it might grant them a fleeting moment of reprieve. "The statues stir with life, and if my calculations are correct, they shall awaken anew when the count upon their pedestals aligns with the ticking of the clock," Herald warned his voice a whisper laced with dread.

"Wait, are you telling me these snake and lion-scorpion creature's are actually alive?!" Misty said.

 "Indeed, though I would wager that the tree bark woman possesses a greater danger than the rest," said Herald.

"You all heard him, let's get out of here," said Ryder. 

They sprinted down the path, which began to shimmer with an otherworldly glow as the surrounding darkness deepened. The sound of stone splintering around the colossal boar echoed ominously, shattering the night's eerie silence. The towering hedges, once a source of trepidation, now loomed like desperate sentinels, beckoning them to cling to their shelter. A resounding crash reverberated behind them as the beast dislodged a massive chunk of rock from its head, unleashing a roar that pierced the stillness, sending chills racing through their souls. Panic surged within them as they realized Herald's foreboding intuition had been all too accurate. As Herald dashed past the grand fountain, his eyes caught sight of numbers etched into its base, positioned before three pairs of angelic figures: one, two, and three.

A sudden, thunderous crack echoed from behind, as yet another fragment of stone tumbled from the boar's grotesque form. "If we make it out of this alive, I swear I'll turn that beast into a feast," Max declared, his voice a mix of determination and dread.

With urgency, they plunged through the archway into the twisting labyrinth of hedges, Herald trailing behind. He conjured three layers of shimmering barriers at the maze's entrance, pouring every ounce of mana he could muster into the incantation. As beads of sweat trickled down his face, he prayed fervently that his magic would be enough to stave off the monstrous creature lurking just beyond.

As Herald gazed into the garden, his eyes fell upon the statue of the colossal boar, a grotesque figure ensnared in stone. Suddenly, with a shuddering groan, it shattered its rocky confines, emerging into the moonlit night. The creature turned, its grotesquely elongated tusks catching the silvery glow, sharp and menacing. Its eyes, dark and glowing like embers in the abyss, locked onto his with an unsettling intensity. The air thickened as it opened its maw, unleashing a thunderous roar that reverberated through the clearing, a sound that clawed at their very souls, echoing the foreboding of their impending doom. With a bone-rattling crash, it charged against the barrier he had erected, splintering the shield with a single, devastating blow, leaving a jagged crack as a testament to its fury and raw power.

Coming Next Time: Race Against Time