He woke up where he had fallen asleep, in front of the glowing gates, the word gone, and in its place, the same food and water that had occupied the kitchen the morning before at the temple. He was neither hungry nor thirsty but he ate and drank to his body's content.

He got up and immediately walked on through the triple gate and continued his climb up the mountain. The path made wild bends left and right, slowly inclining till he reached a much tougher terrain. The trees were now more sparsely divided and were growing at wild angles out of the ground, the ground beneath his feet became loose and rocky. The path abruptly widened severely and gave into a far more open area of mountainous terrain. Though not quite dangerous yet, Estavir would have to start actually climbing now.

So he started to climb hunched towards the ground, eventually reaching a mouth in the mountainside that was deep enough to be a cave and while he couldn't distinguish any features in the dark, certainly it was deep and somewhere in the distance it was lit.

Being the only solid ground he was bound to have for a while, he sat down and looked around the visible face of the mountain and he was certain he could spot at least two more similar opening further ahead. It was then he noticed the rough tree line he had traversed to get here, and no path was visible from here, he couldn't even be sure of where he started the journey. He did notice, as he his gaze skimmed over from side to side that a rock to his right side seemed unusually flattened and he inspected it. It had carvings that made up the phrase " Knowing _______ is half the battle."

There was a space between 'knowing' and 'is' which felt deeper and smoother than the rest of the rock, so he assumed someone deliberately erased the most important word. He was feeling a mix of emotions; he wanted to remain sitting where he was, but he also wanted to reach the top of the mountain, because his nightmares told him doing so would help. It was an odd moment, then and there, he felt content, though only ever so slightly and for so short a moment, only to be wheeled back into chaos, back into line, back on the path to the top of Sensan-Ghi.

He wanted to keep climbing but could find no good rocks to grab onto. He looked down and though not deadly, falling certainly would injure him greatly; he decided to try the cave instead.

He walked for a few hundred meters in obscurity before reaching a 90 degree turn that seemed to be where the cast light he saw earlier came from. He walked around the corner and to his surprise the cave stopped looking like a cave all-together. The corridor in front of him was covered on all four sides by a dark though very reflective stone, all sides evenly measured, floating orbs of lights every few meters as far as he could see. He walked down the corridor, impressed, stunned, perplexed also, by the way the stone seemed to cast a reflection of himself ever so slightly. The oddity of his reflections were not noticeable at first, but it seemed the opacity of his reflections increased as he went further down the corridor, eventually reaching a mirror in his path that served as a dead end, no where to travel but back. The mirror, upon closer inspection, was partially see-through and when Estavir put his finger against the what he thought was glass seemed to be rather gelatinous in nature rather than hard. He put his hand through the mirror, slightly recoiling. It felt cold and wet but actually didn't hurt despite his initial reaction, so he put his head through the mirror as well and saw a big red arrow pointing directly at a circle on the ground a few meters ahead. He made his way all the way through and approached the circle.

"You are here" it said in smeared letters. Where is here, he thought, before looking up. The ground seemed to trip out from under him as he was unable to explain what he saw. It was as if he was walking the inner surface of a sphere, whose surface was entirely covered in a maze. This, in every significant way, failed to be as noticeable to him as the fact he saw several of himself, at different points in the mazed sky all around him, also looking back at him.

They however were steady on their feet and after having noticed being noticed, drew their swords and ran in different directions, he assumed correctly, looking for him. The way he came into the maze seemed to have disappeared behind him as did the floor markings that lured him.

He got up and ran in any direction that was closest. The reflections on the walls were very unnerving, from the corner of his eyes they looked just as real as he felt, which would put him at a disadvantage when eventually he did meet one of his 'clones'.

He ran for a solid five minutes, being completely lost, but trying to put as much distance between him and his aggressors, one of which he could still see in his sky view, the others must have reached his hemisphere and could be close. He took a minute to catch his breath, and to listen, if he could, for any noise approaching him.

There were footsteps echoing in the distance, slowly getting closer, at least two clones would reach him in the next minute. He found a dead end in the maze to hide in, here at least he could ensure he couldn't get attacked from two sides.

A first set of footsteps was very close now, maybe 10 seconds.

He prepared to swing his sword as soon as a figure passed, and so it passed. His clone had no time to react and had its sword arm sliced off. Estavir felt a sharp intense pain in his sword arm that nearly made him drop his own sword. Luckily the pain was short lived and he stabbed his one-armed clone in the chest; which he felt too, for only a moment.

He felt as if he would puke, but only a heavy heaving cough came out. He caught his breath, pulled out the sword and watched his clone drop to the floor like a lifeless sack doll.

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He had no time to wonder what was going on before a second clone showed up from his side. He managed to parry a lunge just in time during which he also managed to trip the clone up, waiting no moment to jump on its back and stabbing him through. He felt the immense pain in his own back and screamed in his clones' stead.

He needed a small break, just a moment to let the exhaustion of this sort of losing battle set in, as he could hear no footsteps nearby, but it was not to be; the arm he had chopped off the first clone started to twitch.

He picked himself up and ran in the direction the second clone had come from. Left, right, right again, straight for a while and then left again, he had no idea where he was going, but he managed to keep one clone in his sky view.

Then as he went around a corner he met a third clone, this clone seemed to have been waiting for him, sword drawn.

He drew his own sword and slowly, same leg forward, advanced at it. This clone was not reckless, it made no first moves and simply waited to counter. This does not bode well he though, a reckless me is one thing but a calm me is all the more frightening.

He decided to run back and take the other corner, the third clone in pursuit. Every time he would turn around to face it, it would take up stance and bide time, blocking his path.

He ran until he felt nothing but running made sense in life, which was a transition of mere seconds as he unintentionally shoulder bashed a fourth clone against the wall, who ran around a corner as he ran passed. It picked itself up and quickly followed suit.

In between all the navigating corners he had only moments to check above him, and to his dismay he now had no clones in his sky-view.

He did not pay attention to where he was running but this allowed him to gain a little distance on his pursuers.

The moment was yet again short lived as a fifth clone appeared around a corner at a leisurely pace. It spotted him and drew its sword. It came at him in a rather precise and calculated way, and there was no way to take the offensive, all he could do was block. He blocked several swings until he managed to find a moment to lock him. He wrestled the sword from his clone's hand while he elbowed his clone in the jaw, with which he nearly knocked himself out. Both swords dropped to the floor, immediately after which Estavir was slightly quicker on drawing his knife for the kill.

He fell to the ground together with his lifelessly limp clone. It took him a few moments to regain his strength, so much so that he felt himself dozing off. Luckily the sound of footsteps rang loud around him, which set adrenaline rushing through him once more.

Once again he ran in the direction the clone had come from, hoping to get away from his five confirmed pursuers.

His tempo was rather unsteady now, but he managed to keep moving constantly, letting chance decide his path, for the most part. When he thought he heard a large synchronous footstep sounding closer he also became aware of a ringing sound that seems to amply all the sounds around him, the footsteps, his breathing, his rapid heartbeat.

Indeed the ringing had an almost golden flavour and seemed to generate a steady low hanging hum that he could feel with his feet. His feet would show him the way now, it was not far off, only a few more corners.

The last corner he walked around gave into a compact confined but widely open area, from which several other paths fed into or out of. There was a mirror in its centre, surrounded by only the golden glow of a gate though there was no actual gate present.

The mirror here was gelatinous too and as Estavir walked closer, his reflection walked out of the shiny liquid in synch with his own movements.

"Well done, well done. Do you like my puppets?" His reflection said as it broke free from mirroring his actions.

"Who are you? Are you one of those shadowy creatures like before?" Estavir demanded to know.

"Indeed indeed, and 'It' is glad you've made it this far," the reflection responded, "but you're not quite there yet."

The five other clones now all rushed in one by one, each of them running around to form a broad circle to cover all possible exits.

His reflection drew its sword and signalled Estavir to do the same.

"Let us complete battle." The shadowy reflection said as it charged wholeheartedly at Estavir.

They exchanged swings but could not connect. They were well matched, they truly felt like each others mirror image, he really was fighting himself this time. Estavir went into the offensive but the reflection blocked everything with incredible foresight, making him lose his footing. His reflection was not expecting this and as Estavir slid to the floor he managed to poke at his reflection's leg. Unlike with the clones this time the pain didn't disappear after a moment. He noticed, in fact, it did not leave any markings on the reflection at all, but instead his own leg was injured.

Estavir felt slightly hopeless, aside from being tired and in pain. His reflection just stood there, laughing.

"You cannot beat me fighting like that," The reflection began, "How can you fight me when you don't even know yourself?"

Estavir stood up slowly, looking around. Every exit blocked by a copy of himself, all waiting cross-armed, escape seemed unlikely. He looked over to the mirror with the golden glow in the middle, blocked by an immense obstacle, towering over him.

"I know you," Estavir finally proclaimed as he sheathed and dropped his sword," and I know them, too. Isn't that enough?"

His reflection gave him a confused look and laughed maniacally, followed by the five copies around him doing the same.

He reached into his breast pocket, took out the dagger and stared at it for a moment before joining in with the laughter. All seven laughs harmonised into a dreadful echoing momentary cacophony that resonated throughout the maze; and then fell into deafening silence.

Estavir stood still, standing with his eyes closed, both fists on his chest. The five copies dissolved like white smoke and his reflection stood stunned, dagger in its heart.

The reflection dissolved like smoke to reveal a shadowy figure, distinctly different from the first one, though similar in features.

"Well done, well done." It began, "To know and to know, who are we and who are you. If the bell of your soul were rung, would it be happy or be it sad?"

It pulled the dagger from its chest and threw it at Estavir's feet.

"Did you know or simply hope?

"For now id say the illusion of self has been broken, has it not?"

This shadow too reduced to nothing, but as it did a chime could be heard ringing throughout the maze and the gate materialised around the mirror. Estavir walked toward the mirror, a reflection present, his real reflection this time. As he passed through the mirror he noticed one key difference between himself and his reflection, which he spotted just before he was completely swallowed by the liquid mirror and passing through into darkness; his reflection was crying.