Navigation Challenges
Navigation challenges require a character to find a path through various environments, whether by interpreting maps and symbols or by making real-time decisions to traverse complex layouts.
Mapping Challenges
Mapping focuses on interpreting static clues or tools (maps, symbols, natural indicators) to determine a path. Examples:
Use star constellations and a compass to navigate across a desert at night.
> Identify the North Star and align your compass.
The stars form a familiar pattern, ancient and indifferent. I align the compass, feeling the weight of years. The dunes stretch out like the backs of sleeping giants, and I walk, each step a rebellion against Father Time.
Follow a series of symbols carved into tunnel walls to navigate underground.
> Look for the next symbol on the wall.
The symbols are crude, almost mocking in their simplicity. They lead me deeper into the labyrinth, each a flicker of hope in the darkness. The air is thick with the scent of earth and forgotten dreams. I press on, the walls closing in like the jaws of some great beast.
Find a path based on the sounds at different locations, such as wind patterns.
> Listen for the sound of the wind through the trees.
The wind whispers secrets through the trees, a language older than time. I close my eyes and let the sound guide me; each rustle leaves a note in a symphony of survival. The path is unclear, but the wind is a faithful companion, leading me through the tangled undergrowth.
Memorize a route described in a note before venturing through a foggy forest.
> Recall the landmarks mentioned in the note.
The fog wraps around me like a shroud, obscuring everything but my own breath. I recall the landmarks from the note, each one a lifeline in this sea of gray: the twisted oak, the moss-covered stone, the stream that murmurs like a forgotten lullaby. They guide me, each step defying the fog’s embrace.
Travel Challenges
Travel involves traversing difficult or confusing layouts, making real-time decisions and adapting to changing conditions or obstacles in the environment. Examples:
Use an old, weathered map with historical landmarks to navigate a modern city, identifying how the landscape has changed to find a hidden location.
> Compare the old map with the current city layout.
The map is a relic, its edges frayed like the memories of privacy and innocence. I trace the lines with my finger, comparing them to the towering monoliths of glass and steel around me. The city has changed, but the bones remain the same. I navigate the labyrinth of progress, each step a journey through time.
Use a hacked GPS device that provides cryptic coordinates and clues to navigate an urban environment, avoiding surveillance cameras and checkpoints.
> Decode the next set of coordinates.
The GPS beeps, its screen flickering like a dying star. The coordinates are cryptic, a riddle wrapped in technology. I move quickly, the eyes of the city always watching. Each step is a game of cat and mouse with the unseen sentinels.
Observe the behaviour of local wildlife, such as the trails of ants, to find a hidden water source or safe passage through a wilderness area.
> Follow the trail of ants.
The ants march in silent procession, their tiny bodies a testament to the power of instinct. I follow their trail, surrendering to nature’s wisdom. The wilderness is vast and indifferent, but the ants lead me to a fresh-water stream, a lifeline in this untamed world.
Navigate a maze-like ancient ruin with shifting walls and hidden traps, using intuition and quick reflexes to avoid danger.
> Move quickly to avoid the shifting walls.
The walls groan and shift, ancient mechanisms grinding to life. I move quickly, my senses heightened, every nerve on edge. The traps are cunning relics of when death was an art form. I dodge and weave, each movement a testament to survival, each breath a victory over the past.
In “Follow the Light,” the protagonist uses a tactile map to navigate through a labyrinthine basement beneath the saloon. Subsequently, the protagonist locates the direction back by observing the migratory pattern of Canada geese heading south.
Follow the Light
Redstone, 2025
Main Street
Noon casts no shadows over the cracked pavement of this forgotten town. I walk down Main Street, past the boarded-up shops and the ghosts of what used to be. The air smells of dust and yesterday.
I’m here for a reason, though. My old man left me one thing in his will. A handwritten letter, cryptic as his scrawl, talking about a treasure hidden in the ruins of his brother’s saloon. Dad always had a flair for the dramatic, but I have to wonder why he never claimed it for us growing up.
Investigate the saloon.
It stands at the end of the street, a crumbling monument to better days. Its once-grand entrance is now a gaping maw, inviting and menacing.
Redstone Saloon
I step inside, the air thick with stale beer and forgotten stories.
The main mirror is cracked, and the bottles that remain are long empty. Sunlight filters through the broken windows, casting eerie patterns on the floor. Pulling out the letter, I read the three ominous words: “Follow the light.”
Observe the light and shadows.
I stand still, watching as the sun moves across the sky. The shadows shift, revealing a doorway in the room’s far corner. How often have my kid brother and I run through here, never noticing?
Minutes pass, and the thin outline of a door disappears. It’s only visible briefly each day, a secret the sun keeps. Keeping my eyes where the frame appeared, I make my way over, the floor creaking under my weight.
The doorway leads to a staircase so narrow I step down sideways. I take a deep breath and descend.
Basement
At the bottom, two corridors and a box of pressed plastic sheets.
I remember these—tactile maps for geography or the visually impaired. My uncle was on town council. They had a printer to make these.
Here is one of Redstone before the development project. It went bust. This one is the theme park, never built. And this one—I never saw it before. At the center is a square and two corridors.
Use the tactile map to explore.
I run an index finger over the bumps and ridges, feeling my way along the north corridor as it twists and turns. The only sounds are my footfalls and the distant drip of water.
What purpose could a maze of corridors serve, especially under a pub so old we still call it the saloon? And then an idea switches on a light from the days of prohibition. Sure enough, the path opens to a space, and I envision ghosts dancing, drinking, and cursing the air bluer than cigar smoke.
The open space is littered with broken casks and broken dreams. Working my way back to the centre square, I can ascend to the saloon.
No, follow the other corridor.
I run my fingers over the map again, feeling for the next turn. The path leads me to a fork in the passage. According to the map, the left path should lead to a dead end while the right continues deeper into the labyrinth.
Go right.
It happens so suddenly and in the dark. I am sliding down, then around a curve, then slam into a plastic cover that lifts to spit me out onto the intense light of early afternoon. I lay here with no idea where here is.
Gravel Pit
I take a deep breath, the fresh air a welcome relief after the musty labyrinth. Disoriented, I sit up and try to gather my bearings.
Look around.
It looks like … a lot of crushed rocks. The relief map is ruined. I slid on it out the shoot and across the gravel. Better it than my seat.
Overhead, blue sky. No breeze. Then, the unmistakable honk of Canada geese in V formation. This time of year, they’re heading south. I use their flight path to return.
Redstone Saloon
Whatever I was supposed to find, Dad, I’m not sure I did. Unless it is a renewed interest in Uncle’s saloon. Follow the light.
The town may be a shadow of its former self, but I found a connection to the past and—just maybe—a guide to the future.
“Day in the Life” is a lyrical account of maze navigation. It involves traversing a confusing layout or environment, reflected in the mayfly’s journey through different parts of its habitat. The directives guide the mayfly through various environments (e.g., skimming the surface, ascending to the treetops, navigating the reeds), much like navigating a maze.
The mayfly’s movement through these environments requires careful navigation and decision-making, akin to the challenges faced in a maze. By framing the mayfly’s journey as a series of navigational challenges, the narrative engages the reader in guiding the protagonist through its ephemeral life.
Day in the Life
Brindle Pond, 25 May
I emerge from the water, wings wet, a ripple in the light on the riverbank of life and movement.
Fly low, skimming the surface.
The cool spray brushes my wings as I glide above the surface, feeling the tension of the hunt. Others take flight with the same desperate focus to find a mate.
Ascend to the treetops.
The canopy is a haven and a hunting ground. The dance of camaraderie and competition is a rhythm with the others. I have no mouth but speak a language of attraction and courtship.
Would you do so well were you my stature—or could I pass thirty thousand nights without wanting more?
Join the dance, weaving through the air.
My wings are delicate. My movement is intricate. A ballet in the air, gently brushing wings together. Each touch is a message, each movement a signal.
Find shelter among the reeds.
The world grows darker and colder. We take to the air to celebrate the fading light despite the dangers we face together. I navigate the reeds, seeking a safe space of rest.
Find a quiet place by the river.
Stars reflect on the water’s surface. We have lived the whole of the day. And the day made a difference to us. What lies beyond us is not to us.
