The Diamond Relic (UPDATED!!!), WBM Original, Chapter 4: The Labyrinth Below, By Makaila Odoom

Chapter 4: The Labyrinth Below

The stone door finished rising with a deep, echoing thrum, like the island itself was breathing.

Beyond it stretched a tunnel lit by glowing blue vines that pulsed slowly, almost like a heartbeat. The air felt cooler down here—calmer, but not safer.

Madison stepped forward first. “This is the labyrinth,” she said quietly. “It changes depending on who enters.”

“That’s… comforting,” Zircon muttered.

We followed, our footsteps echoing against the crystal walls. The cave twisted and turned, splitting into passageways that looked identical—same glowing vines, same smooth stone floors, same unsettling silence.

“So,” Onyx said softly, breaking the quiet, “anyone else feeling like we’re inside a very fancy death maze?”

I huffed a quiet laugh despite myself. “You always say the worst things at the worst times.”

He shrugged. “It’s a talent.”

We reached a fork in the path. Three tunnels branched out in front of us.

Madison frowned. “This is where it gets tricky. The labyrinth responds to doubt. If we panic, it shifts.”

“Cool,” Zircon said. “So no pressure.”

I stepped closer to the edge, peering down one of the tunnels. The glow dimmed slightly, like it was reacting to me.

Hauyne noticed. “Emerald,” she said gently, “I think it’s waiting for you.”

My stomach flipped. “Of course it is.”

Onyx moved closer—not touching, but near enough that I could feel his presence. “You don’t have to rush,” he said quietly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

I took a breath. Another. Then I stepped forward.

The moment my foot crossed the threshold of the middle tunnel, the other two faded into stone, sealing themselves shut.

Zircon let out a low whistle. “Guess we picked right.”

We walked in silence for a while. The tunnel narrowed, then widened again, opening into a circular chamber. In the center stood a pedestal carved from pure crystal, glowing faintly gold.

The relic.

It was bigger than I expected—about the size of a large chest—faceted like a diamond, but warmer somehow. Softer.

I felt it before I even reached it. A pull. Like it recognized me.

“That’s it,” Madison whispered. “The Heartstone.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. “So I just… touch it?”

Hauyne nodded. “That’s all.”

I stepped forward—and hesitated.

What if it didn’t work?
What if I wasn’t enough?

My hands curled into fists.

Onyx cleared his throat softly. “For what it’s worth,” he said, not looking at me, “if anyone can do this, it’s you.”

I glanced at him. “You say that like you’re sure.”

He gave a small, almost shy smile. “I am.”

I smiled back at him, a newfound confidence building in my chest.

I reached out.

The moment my fingers brushed the crystal, warmth surged up my arm—not painful, just powerful. The chamber lit up, golden light spilling across the walls.

The ground trembled.

Zircon grabbed my hand. “Emerald!”

“I’m okay!” I shouted over the rising hum.

The Heartstone cracked—just a little—then shattered in a burst of light.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

When the light faded, voices filled the chamber.

“Where are we?”
“Is this the island?”
“Did it work?”

I opened my eyes.

People stood all around us—teenagers my age, dressed in colors I’d only seen in ancient paintings. Red. Blue. Silver. Green. Gold.

One girl in a red jumpsuit stared at me, eyes wide. “Wait… you’re Emerald.”

My heart skipped. “You’re from the Fire Division.”

Her face broke into a grin. “You’re the Gemstone Princess.”

Around us, more voices overlapped as everyone realized the same thing at once.

The divisions—reunited.

I laughed, a breathless, disbelieving sound. Zircon grabbed me in a hug, and Onyx steadied me when my knees went weak—not holding on too long, just enough.

“Easy,” he murmured. “You did it.”

I looked up at him. “We did.”

His smile widened just a fraction.

As everyone began introducing themselves—Fire, Water, Air, Star, Moon—I stepped back, letting the moment settle.

It worked.

The impossible worked.

But as I looked around at all of us—middle children, forgotten in the shadows of larger families, somehow chosen—I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cave.

This wasn’t random.

Someone had planned this.
Someone had separated the divisions in the first place.

And somehow, I knew—
this wasn’t the end of the story.