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The Mind Hunts Itself


AgentofDeath13
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The Mind Hunts Itself

The Cosmic Balance(seamlessly extended) - Aeon Theme - Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous OST - YouTube 

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[!] A glimpse within the labyrinth that consumes.

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The Race

 

A second. A second was all that had passed as Cernuno had just been exchanging words with friends outside the gates of Caras Anor. He had a book and so many unanswered questions, uninterrupted thoughts, and hidden secrets he wished to share. In their exchange of words, there would come a single inquiry directed to him which hung in the air, “Have you read it yet?”. That question, that fateful ask, was the last thing he remembered hearing before a superficial glance would be taken at the inner pages of that long-forgotten tome. The Archaic texts within made little sense to the mixed elf before he felt forced to blink and rub his eyes, the sounds of rushing air accompanying the feeling of a free-fall before he hit the hard stone ground beneath him. The wind from his lungs was knocked loose from within him, that rough floor made of crystal acting as his rigid bed upon which he rested for a few moments. 

 

The Prince would slowly rise and run a hand along his face and arms as he examined himself for bruises within the darkened halls in which he stood. Gleaming crystal mirrors lined the walls around him, “Where am I?” was all that he could say as a further glance around revealed a maze of mirrors. The flickers of spirits and visions lined his view, plaguing him, as the paths before him reflected endings and openings, a never-ending amount of routes for him to take. 

 

Cernuno would begin his trek down those seemingly endless halls and look about, his gaze falling upon the mirrors that surrounded him at every turn. Faces and bodies would line those panes and float about him as the Prince strode forth and continued down his path, but every step taken was a step in the wrong direction. Every mirror he gazed into only brought more uncertainty as his voice called out to him and coaxed him into giving up. The fragile elf could see himself stepping gradually closer with each passing glance as he made his way deeper into the depths of the world

 

Those halls wove themselves into an intricate puzzle that bore the most fragile of paths. Those crystal floors and glass mirrors watched his every move as they judged him, and he could feel those surfaces force themselves about,  guiding him and dissuading him. That silent judgment killed him slowly and caused great distress, but in the moments where hope seemed the darkest, he would hear his voice call out to him. The mali walked beside himself as every step brought him closer to the surface of that reflective shell. His mirrored image guided him and soothed him in the moments when he struggled the most, and to that end, he was gently guided to a door at the center of the labyrinth.

 

As the Prince took that fateful turn around the last corner he had been guided to by his mirrored companion, he found his salvation. A circular room within which the walls and ceiling were perfect mirrors that reflected everything without distortion. Sitting in the center of the said room was an altar with his book, that mysterious grimoire that had brought him there. Its reflection was absent from the mirrors that surround it, and so Cernuno walked about the room and studied the pedestal it rested on. It had no traps, bore no runes, and showed no signs of tampering. It simply laid there waiting for someone to take it and use it. As the young elf reached out to take it, there came a shout, one full of desperation and sorrow… “WAIT… DON'T TOUCH IT… YOU'LL TRAP US…” - “But this is how I got here, maybe it’s my way back.” - “ YES BUT COME HERE… ALLOW ME TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING.” The mirror image placed a palm flat against the glass as he gestured for Cernuno to touch his hand. The ‘ame would release a long sigh and pace forth, his hand placed flat against the glass. Before the prince realized what had happened, his doppelganger was released from his prison and tackled the ‘ame to the ground. He would strike Cernuno time after time until blood stained both of their garbs. That Mali and his doppelganger were in combat for a while before one of them finally rose. That individual would walk over and pick up the book. Sitting down and reading it once more, that feeling of falling washed over him and he crashed upon the ground outside the keep where the original portal had come from.

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