The darkness ever deepens. As you stumble your way through the shadows of the earth and stone, a pass by a small alcove shelf on the wall of the labyrinth. Resting in it is a small stone statuette, no bigger than a bottle of wine. It is smooth, simplistic, yet lovingly carved from a smooth white stone. It is the figure of a goddess, her body plush and shapely, her hair flowing down her back in waves, held up at her hips to face the sky. Her face is held in a smile, her eyes closed softly. You get the sense that she is kindly, generous, loving, protective. She is clearly a long-forgotten god, as you do not know of any such deities that appear as she does, and yet she survives, gone but not forgotten, deep within the darkest tunnels.

Time has not betrayed her, even as a stone. Faint stains of grunge and dirt cling to the flared base of her carved dress, a small black ring around the base of the statuette. The white stone, surely once pristine and bright, is now dull and shaded, hampered by a vague tint of grey. She has not seen the sun in a long time, and yet her smile never dims.

Despite your usual religious opinions, you feel it only honorable to kneel and offer a prayer to the forgotten goddess. The hallway affords barely enough space to turn and face her as you kneel down, bowing your head to her figure. You say a few simple words, kindness and thankfulness to the goddess, and a request for safe passage through the rest of the labyrinth. You pray that, if she indeed is the guardian of travelers here, she will guide you on your journey and safeguard you from danger.

She offers no response, neither in word nor thought. Despite this, you rise to your feet and smile at her, feeling a warmth in your heart like resting after a feast. Your resolve is not only restored, but fortified.

You turn and continue your quest, allowing the goddess to rest as she fades into the distant darkness of the labyrinth. May the goddess give you strength, and protect all who venture here.