“Ah, you must be the adjudicator. It is a pleasure to meet you.” I said, as I bowed to show my respect.

“Who?” asked the man who might have been the adjudicator.

Rose and Azog looked at me confused.

“Are you sure this is the right guy?” Rose asked.

“Well, yes. This is where I saw the glowing red mana. Also, what about the Black Crag Beetle?”

The old homeless man let out a sigh.

“That's not a Black Crag Beetle. Look at the slightly greenish color and spiky tips. That’s a Jade Horned Beetle. It’s an easy mistake to make for rookie bug watchers.” Said the homeless man who was presumably the Adjudicator.

I squinted at the bug. The green color was noticeable. Also, I was sure the spiky exterior looked different when we were following the bug.

“Sorry about that. I guess I didn’t look at the bug close enough.”

“No worries. Mistakes happen to the best of us.”

“Wait… That bug looks more like a Mulberry Beetle.” I squinted my eyes. Something was amiss.

“Pardon?”

“That bug. It’s not a Jade Horned Beetle.”

“Ok. I happened to miss-remember the name of the bug, I guess.” said the homeless man. He shrugged, nonchalantly.

“But you just confidently said that bug was a Jade Horned Beetle as if you were an expert on bugs.”

“I’ve seen a bug or two. That doesn’t mean that I don’t make mistakes.”

“Arthur, layoff this poor homeless guy. It’s clear that he’s not this adjudicator figure, just look at him. You’re being very nitpicky about this bug too.” Rose insisted.

“It’s not about the bug. It’s about what the bug represents,” I argued.

“It’s just a bug,” said Rose.

“Yes, now it’s just a bug. But it was more than just a bug just minutes earlier. I can’t seem to remember why, exactly, but the bug is the reason we’re here in the first place. I mean, we followed it here.”

“Did we?” Azog grunted. “I thought we were just running away from those damn lawyers. What’s the bug have to do with any of this?”

“Yeah, what does the bug have to do with any of this?” Rose added.

I recollected my thoughts trying to think about why I had even cared about the bug in the first place. The weird feeling that something was off still lingered, but I had no logical reason why my instincts were screaming at me.

“The bug. The bug. Oh never-” I stopped.

Think for yourself.

These words were implanted into my mind.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“No one said anything.” Azog said.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” I snapped.

I thought inward, like a monk in a monastery. The old homeless man sort of looked like a monk. I needed to concentrate.

Concentrate inward, you fool.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Again, the voice spoke the words that were implanted into my head.

“I’m trying!” I shouted.

“He’s gone mad,” said Azog.

Madness. Yes, the world around me had gone mad. They were jealous of my mana sight. Wasn’t that what the dark one had said? It was something like that. This was like Esmeralda’s. I tried to pull the red mana that was likely covering my eyes. Nothing Happened.

I tried to shift the mana around me that I could not see, yet I had trouble locating it. Not a single spot in my surroundings felt any different than any other spot. There were no streaks of red mana breaking the illusion in front of me.

“That Arthur guy is an odd man. Azog, was it? Would you mind helping your friend leave? It seems as if he is undergoing psychosis. It’s incurable, I'm afraid.”

Azog nodded. It was a reasonable request that made sense. He walked towards me. I scrambled away.

“Don’t lay your hands on me, Azog! I’m going to solve this with or without your help. You’re seeing illusions,” I shouted at the big man.

“I see that you’ve gone crazy. Leave this poor man alone. We’re wasting time as it is. Making it out of the city might be a pipe dream, but we’ve still got a shot if we hurry.”

“No, Azog. I was right about the Inn and I’m right about this.”

“What Inn?”

I narrowed my eyes. There was no way that Azog would entirely forget about an Inn. They were his passion. This was not Azog. This was a strange doppelganger pretending to be my friend. I wondered if he was entirely an illusion or if someone was there in the flesh pretending to be my friend. Although, as far as I knew, magic couldn’t replicate people. Even Esmerald’s needed to send staff into her illusion.

“Who’s out there?!” I yelled.

“It’s me, Azog.”

“No. You’re an imposter waltzing around in a hopefully metaphorical skin suit. Worst case scenario, you skinned my friend alive and are wearing him like a 3 piece shaman robe. You didn’t happen to meet a sadistic skin carver working for those Lawyers, did you?”

Azog looked hurt.

“Arthur. It’s me, Azog. You know who I am.”

“But do you know who you are?”

“Of course. You hired me to travel with you.”

“You haven’t even brought up your Bakery once. That’s all you talk about.” I lied.

“Well, wouldn’t it be nice if we could get back to baking bread. Once we escape the city, I mean.”

Now, I knew Azog was lying. Still, though, it was better to hide that for now. The fact that whoever was pretending to be Azog hadn’t interfered with me yet, must’ve meant that they couldn’t physically harm me. This was the work of an illusionist trying to throw me off their trail.

“Ah, that’s the Azog I know.”

Azog smiled back at me, with a seemingly empty expression.

“How about we get out of here?” he insisted.

“Just a second. I need to catch my breath and do some stretches. You know we can’t afford for me to pull a muscle.”

“Ok, but hurry. We don’t have a lot of time.”

I nodded.

As I stretched, I thought about the red mana. It was possible that I was just in a more complex version of Esmeralda’s. That was the obvious answer, yet attempting to push mana away from my eyes did take me out of the illusion. I pulled and pushed my mana sense outward, pushing and pulling yet no mana peeked through the illusion. That was odd.

Even in places where mana was sparse, if I squinted there was always see a dash of earth mana or a sprinkle of wind mana. Even a near perfect illusion would have some sort of flaws. Yet nothing stood out. No red mana covered my ears, no mana covered my eyes, no mana came out of Azog’s nose. There was just nothing.

“Concentrate Inward.” I repeated and repeated, as my brain tried to make sense of what was going on. While I was puzzled by the words that were planted into my mind, for now I needed to focus on figuring out a way to break the illusion.

Then it hit me like a bag of bricks. What if the illusion was directly affecting my mind? If the sender of the message thought of me as an idiot, they’d be more literal with their message.

I closed my eyes and felt my mana. There among the ambient death mana was a tinge of red mana clinging to my head. I pried it out of my head with my willpower. I snapped back to reality.

I swiveled my head, but both Azog and Rose were gone. So was the crowd that had jeered at us. Even the old lady did not exist. Only the bug remained, looking at me with its beady little eyes. It was sitting on the wooden box that now had a tiny door connected to it.

I felt relief wash over me as I realized that the carapace of the bug was, in fact, not green. It was the reassuring dark blue that was the hallmark of the Black Crag Beetle. While it was disconcerting that my friends were nowhere to be seen, I figured the illusion compelled them to leave this square somewhere along the journey.

“Just me and you, huh.” I said to the bug.

The bug did not talk back.

“Not much of a talker are you?”

The bug still did not talk back.

“I should stop procrastinating.” I muttered to myself.