The Rainbow Labyrinth

In a Rainbow Labyrinth suspended above pink and purple clouds, scattered with white trails, there stretched a gigantic world of games.

But there was one big catch: this game was no ordinary game. It could be fearsome. It could be wonderfully fun. Often, it was both at the same time.

Before setting foot inside it, one had to pass through several selections - mysterious and silent - which no one truly remembered. If one was chosen - whether small or big, fat or thin, even sick - one played. One had to play.

Once inside the labyrinth, only one rule was certain: no one knew what waited beyond the exit. No one had ever known. Only the Royal Eagle knew. It was his secret. He guarded it as he guarded everything else: from very, very high above.

Maria, a small round cloud, was summoned to the great palace of the Royal Eagle that very morning, just as she was getting ready to take her favorite position in the sky, for the pleasure of her admirers.

Every morning, a voice as large as a boulder, powerful and deep, called out the names of the participants. That sound marked the beginning of the festivities for the players of the Rainbow Labyrinth.

Maria... Tiffany... Thomas... Dar...

What?!

Maria jumped, her eyes wide open, shouting at the top of her voice:

"No! No! No! Not me! I am not even brave! And I hate surprises - this is the worst surprise of all! What I love is changing color in the sunlight and breathing in the sweet scent of stardust and rainbows!"

Having no choice, the beautiful little cloud began to drift uncontrollably toward the palace of the Great Royal Eagle, surrounded by many other participants, some more eager than others to go there.

The palace of the Great Royal Eagle was unlike any other place. A vaulted hall opened before them, so high that the ceiling disappeared somewhere into the darkness - no one could have said where it was, or even whether it truly existed. Great suspended walkways held glowing glass books. Their colorful, almost dazzling light seemed to come from lanterns from another world.

There, in the center, he was waiting for them.

The Royal Eagle stood upright, his chest puffed out, wearing an immense patchwork cloak made of shining fabric in a thousand colors of the sky. At the tip of each of his feathers, jewels sparkled - small and large, in every imaginable shade. As for his feet and talons, they were so powerful that no words could truly describe them.

His weightless palace stretched beyond time and the gardens of space. Whatever happened in the labyrinth, all the participants always returned to him to receive one or more well-earned rewards. Whether they wanted to or not.

Standing firmly, his wings raised behind his back, so large that they rose above his head, he waited. His gaze was sharp and powerful - not to frighten, but to guide.

The participants had entered in disorder, the group scattering as it drew closer to the palace. The last to cross the threshold - hesitant, her foot suspended over the void for what felt like an eternity before finally coming down - was Maria. What no one could have predicted was Maria's reaction.

She had complained throughout the entire journey, loudly, with the air of a sulking princess, sometimes even disturbing the other participants. And yet, she suddenly found herself speechless with wonder.

Her gaze swept across the palace in every direction, from the floor to the invisible heights, from one floating wall to another, never settling anywhere. She spun around, open-mouthed, her eyes greedily taking in every detail.

"Oh! Look at that! And that! And up there! But it is... it is..."

She had no words. Which, for Maria, was already extraordinary.

Then she noticed the cloak. Without thinking - for Maria rarely thought before acting - she stepped toward the Great Royal Eagle and gently lifted the edge of his train to admire it more closely.

"It is literally dazzling," she whispered.

And it was true.

Little by little, something strange spread through the hall. Fears faded, doubts fell silent. Noisy joys, anxieties, unanswered questions - all began to taste of nothingness, as though none of it had ever truly existed.

Even Maria eventually settled down.

In that vast, gentle silence, the players' preparation could finally begin.

They were unlike anyone else. Half-angels with wings of light, half-dragonflies with iridescent reflections, dressed in long, austere robes that made them look like the orderly servants of a great king. And yet, in each of their movements, they gave off a blend of delicacy and warriorlike strength. They fluttered silently from one player to another, precise, organized, and busy.

Each one had her role. And each knew it perfectly.

Some handed out physical forms - tall or small, slender or round, an ordinary face or a face that made others stop and stare. Others assigned kinds of intelligence, carefully chosen by category. Still others gave out gifts - a sense of music here, a talent for words there, a hidden ability the player would know nothing about for a long time.

There was also the baggage.

Some players received small pieces of baggage - light, easy to carry, almost forgettable. Others received large ones. Very large ones. Wide, heavy, cumbersome, difficult to lift, difficult to drag. Baggage that took up space. Baggage that could not be ignored.

No one really seemed to notice. They were all in that strange state of gentle nothingness - without truly feeling good or bad, without truly being surprised by anything.

Everyone except Maria.

"Hey, don't you guys notice anything? Look! That one over there has a strange piece of baggage - it is huge! And her, over there, she is really very pretty... It is still kind of strange, isn't it, that we are not all the same? Don't you think?" Silence.

"Well. I am just saying." She fell silent. Almost.

At last came the distribution of the coins.

Each player received a pouch of tokens - something to bet with, trade with, and use to move forward through the labyrinth. Some would fill theirs along the way. Others would empty them. That was the game.

Each team also received a joker. Only one. It could be used only once, for a single challenge, and had to be chosen carefully, because the labyrinth never gave it back.

The Preparers repeated to each player, always in the same calm voice, the oldest rule of the game:

"Always keep one coin in your hand, or your joker if you still have it. No bad door can take a player as long as they still have one or the other."

No one truly understood that rule. They simply stored it away in a corner of their mind, along with the others.

They also learned, between distributions, that the monsters of the labyrinth had levels. From level 1 to level 3. And that the most dangerous ones were not the ones people believed them to be.

Meanwhile, other Preparers were giving lessons. Strange lessons, whose usefulness no one yet understood.

Swimming. Breathing. Eating. Relieving oneself. Sleeping.

Maria raised her hand.

"Excuse me... are we really going to need all of that?"

A Preparer looked at her with that calm and mysterious smile they all had.

"So it seems," she said simply.

Then she moved on to the next player.