I wanted to stay and talk more with Chelsea, but as much fun as it was, the few hours I took catching up with her was the most either of us were willing to spend. We were here for the trials, at the end of the day, and that meant we needed to get going.We walked together to the portal, at least. After a quick hug and a promise to talk more later, we each stepped through the doorway behind the throne.

As expected, we were separated in the next trial. If my conjectures earlier were correct, then they were alternating soul refinement resources with trials aimed at helping people break soul shackles. Of course, I doubted this could continue. They were trials, and chances were good we'd be up against each other within the next few trials.

When the telltale gold light faded, I found myself standing somewhere completely new. Not in a castle of dark stone, but in a maze, the likes of which I'd never seen before. The maze seemed to be made of mirrors, but the mirrors, at least from the angle I was at now, had no reflections in them. As I stepped forward past one, I saw myself enter the image next to me.

Oddly though, the image of me wasn't wearing my current armor, he was wearing white robes with golden trim. He had a circlet on his brow set with a beautiful blue sapphire, and his expression was pious and kind of snooty. As I watched. He stepped out of the mirror gracefully, offering me a jaunty wave. "Oh, hello. It's nice to meet you. I'm Shane Anders. Are you participating in this trial too?"

As he spoke, I finally got the download from the temple about the rules for this trial, and what was going on became obnoxiously clear. The Heart Demon Maze. The reflections represented weaknesses and blind spots in my psyche. This particular trial would have been much more help with my heart shackle than my mind shackle, but it should help me refine myself either way.

"Hi." I said awkwardly. "I don't suppose you know why you're here?" I would have felt terrible just assaulting someone who didn't mean me harm, even an egotistical version of me obviously raised by my mother, with a somehow exponentially more punchable face than my own despite being nearly identical to me.

He sighed heavily. "I do. We're going to have to do battle. It's a shame. I don't have anything against you personally. I do need to get through this trial though, and you won't be harmed physically by your demise here. I'll try not to-" His words were cut off by my staff flashing through the space his head had just been occupying as I shifted into Belial and triggered State of Grace, Flurry of Blows, and Ripple Running.

The staff passed in front of his nose, and I kept the motion going as I made a full rotation, using the force of my body to speed up the already much faster attack. Other me scowled. "Well that's not very polite. I was still speaking. His eyes began to glow with unearthly blue radiance as his hands came to life with white fire. Familiar white fire. Flames of purification. Of course.

This was the version of me who inherited my grandfathers power from my mom. Who grew up in the Church with her. Did he have a second power like Chelsea? I'd find out. But at the moment I had to stay alive. A dozen strikes and sweeps licked out, my staff moving deceptively gently but fast as I could go, like I was dancing or something.

An impression probably helped by other me's flawless dodges and deflections. Not only did my corrosion not infect him, where his flame hit my staff it started burning away the strength of Belial. After a few exchanges I was the one on the back foot, dodging as the tempo slowly shifted to him attacking me.

My overlay really shined here. Not literally, I couldn't manage to find a Path here for attacking. Apparently there was no version of this fight that conformed to Fate, which I guess made sense. I pushed off the air with Ripple Running, vanishing as he struck out with purifying flame, and grinned as he caught some corruption to the chest from the platform I'd used to push off.

Other me hissed, slamming his purifying hand into his chest, and as he did, I triggered Moonlit Night. Fog filled the mirrored corridor, cloaking me in stealth. His face (my face I supposed) smoothed out after a minute, his purifying flame eradicating the demonic corruption. "That was very clever." He complimented earnestly. "Corrupting the air and drawing my focus so you could catch me with a mine."

I gritted my teeth. That sounded so patronizing coming from him. Or maybe I was just pissed off at his existence. This version of me seemed almost...better. Even without my wish power (which I hadn't been able to use since entering here, I was pretty sure there was some time shenanigans going on in the temple) he'd made it further than I had. He was seemingly on the high end of F-rank, while I was only coming up on the midpoint, and I...

My mind froze. I got it now. The maze wasn't built specifically for fights. I mean, it was good training and in some situations it would probably be important, but the point of it was to overcome flaws in my mind and heart. Flaws like this one. Ever since I'd first heard about Chelsea I'd wondered what would have happened if mom had taken me. Would I be stronger? Better? Happier?

It was no effort at all to let Moonlit Night and Belial drop. This version of me hadn't attacked, he'd said he would, but he'd mostly just waited patiently. I stared at him. "I don't want to be you." I said firmly. "I like my life. My friends. Zeke. I wouldn't trade them for some fancy robes and time with my mommy. I could beat you if we kept fighting, but more importantly...I don't think you're as happy as I am."

I blinked and he was gone. I was looking in a mirror at myself, eyes behind a blank wooden mask. A second later the mirror cracked, and the image of me as I was vanished, the reflective surface replaced with a blank wall of golden bricks. I felt...lighter. Stronger. Like a piece of me that was broken had been fixed. I felt a lot of things honestly, and it was hard to pin down a specific emotion in the maelstrom.

Rather than continue, I sat down and closed my eyes, thinking through what I'd come to terms with. The Heart Demon Maze was meant to help cleanse your flaws, if I hadn't come here as an orange it would have been mainly aimed at my heart lock, but since I had, I got to face off with the demons I had in my own head. My internal limitations.

Figuring out the limits you imposed on yourself was a bitch and a half as far as I could tell. I had some ideas, but for the moment I just needed to take this one step at a time. Exhaling loudly, I stood up, brushed off my pants, and then stepped forward into view of the next mirror.

This time, the version of me that stepped out of the mirror WAS wearing my mask. He was also wearing much different clothes. A pitch black three piece suit with a black shirt and tie. The tie had the WCP logo stitched into it with gold thread. He nodded to me coldly as he emerged. "The test continues, I see. What version of myself do I face now? I don't see any obvious clues to which weakness I need to eradicate here."

So he thought he was taking the test. Interesting, but ultimately irrelevant. "I suppose we should chat then." I said casually. "Try to figure out a bit about each other." Fighting wasn't my go to this time. I needed to understand, to figure out what this guy represented.

"What's in that for me?" He laughed frostily. "I could just kill you and advance. I hardly think a conversation with a figment of my imagination is worth my time.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be insipid. If we were going to fight we'd have started by now. Quit your posturing so we can get this shit done."

He shrugged. "I should have expected myself to be smart enough to see through that. Fine. My name is Shane Wyndham. Son of Elijah. I assume you're the same? Your clothes lead me to believe you're not exactly proud of our illustrious heritage. Shame our father didn't impress the importance of family onto you. I suppose even he isn't infallible, as much as he likes to pretend otherwise."

It hit me then. Not all of these versions of me needed to be real possibilities. The last one hadn't been. If there was a version of me raised by mom, there was a version raised by dad. This was the REAL Wyndham inside me. The part of me that expected that I could have been a real power player if dad had stayed with me and taught me properly.

"You grew up with the family?" I said, unable to help my curiosity. "What was that like? You must be pretty strong." He was F-rank, but clearly much further along than I was. Just like the last one.

"Strength is irrelevant." He scoffed. "It's just a facet of power. I HAVE power. Some I get from our father. Some from my own wit. But it belongs to me. And you..." I could HEAR the sneer behind the mask. "You're weak. Empty. Too soft to do what needs to be done to achieve our goals. You sicken me."

"Right back at'cha." I laughed. "Do you care about ANYONE but yourself? Or did dad teach you all his bad habits. Abandoning people you care about. Pushing away your loved ones. Why even bother using your own name. Might as well call yourself Eli jr."

He straightened menacingly. "How DARE you? Our father taught me everything I needed to survive. To thrive. I have power, wealth, influence. What do you have?"

I snorted. "A personality. Also friends, and a girlfriend. I'm assuming you have none of those things. You're just a rich selfish prick with too high an opinion of himself." I laughed at myself. Both of me. "I can't believe part of me wished to be like you. I had enough trouble shaking off dad's bullshit when he was barely around. I don't hate him, I'm not even as mad at him anymore after hearing some of his reasons, and honestly, I'm glad he left."

The other me froze, then stepped back into the mirror and became my mirror image before the mirror once again cracked and vanished. I just smiled. I loved my dad. Even after everything. I didn't LIKE him very much, but I loved him. But I also thought he was an asshole. I didn't want to be like him. To live up to his expectations. Or even to make him proud. I didn't need to do any of that.

My father was an absentee deadbeat with a god complex. He didn't deserve my anger. My resentment. Or the space he took up in my mind. Mom had to leave, for whatever reason, but dad didn't. He chose to abandon me because of the way the family did things. And I was glad he did. I was glad both of them did. I wouldn't be who I was without their choices.

Zeke hadn't just raised me to be like him. He'd raised me to be ME. I'd never realized what a gift it was for him not to try to impose his morality and judgement on me. Call him absent or neglectful if you wanted, but Zeke had taught me the most important lesson anyone had ever taken the time to teach me. How to be true to who I was. With that realization, I took a deep breath, and stepped forward. On to the next me.