He was tired, but refused to go to sleep. He was wounded, but refused to give in. Many people got in their heads that the samurai of Akashima were some nigh invincible force that never bleed and were masters of magical sword techniques. They would claim that Taka would know upon looking at someone what the outcome of a fight would be, and that his devil eyes would stare into a soul and gauge your worthiness of such a fight. They of course were wrong; the reality was hardly something befitting a legend.

Fighting for roughly an hour in bursts drained the energy reserves faster than most activities. There was the cycle of figuring out what about this replica was off, and resolving the issue with haste. Taka had to use every ounce of restraint not to blow into a copy immediately; for fear that he might injure an ally. It was tiring in both a mental and physical capacity. As he moved along slowed by the tendrils of fatigue clawed at his limbs making them feel like dead weights as he nursed the various black scabs on his body, signs that if he wasn’t Taka he had fought the real one at least.

He wasn’t invincible, but he was slowly moving forward.

His gate was moving towards the middle of the maze, checked with the occasional poke through the brush with his blade, to see where the rest of the maze was in relation. With the trail of dead corpses behind him it became easy to give himself landmarks to go by, and with it not being actual flesh it was easier to stomach the arduous task of arranging the corpses in the manner he was going, pointing the way for his allies. The upper body of his Kimono had been torn to shreds by the repeated attacks by the maze to ensnare or entrap him. It only offered more flesh for the scabs to cover, beside other scars he had earned over his tenure with the Ixian Knights.

It wasn’t until he had killed his third Steppenwolfe that he sensed the presence of something nearby. His shoulders tensed ready for battle once more as he heard the soft shifting of the sand and turned to see the Elf once more before him. It had been awhile since he had seen such a clone and chalked it up to the Elf’s mental fortitude more than anything. They looked upon each other in silence for a while, each waiting for the other to speak, and so Taka made his first bid for some solace in this maze.

Hefting the Rat’s Tail Nodachi he spoke firmly, “Touch the blade.”

“Why should I?” Came the cautious response as Erissa slowly moved forward her eyes carefully watching the Ronin, “How do I know you won’t attack as soon as I step forward…”

Taka carefully gripped the blade of his Nodachi and cut across the palm of his hand. The cut wasn’t terribly deep, but deep enough to show the blackened blood that flowed in his veins as he carefully held his palm up to the Elf. He then carefully lifted the blade to Erissa and spoke firmly once more, “Touch the blade. If you do as I ask, I will not attack.”

She then reached out a hand and carefully touched the steel as she raised an eyebrow in confusion and carefully drew it back. Taka’s eyes went to the flesh of her hand and upon seeing no blistering he sagged to a knee and let out a hoarse laugh, “Good, it is you. It is good to see a friend after so long through this hell.”

“How do you know it is me?”

“These plant creatures we’ve been fighting, they have a weakness to iron, which my blade is mainly made from. Never before has my diligence with this blade been so rewarded. I believe it is the fae nature of this place causing these plants to succumb to the iron in my blade. All I know is that even their weapons are near useless to defend against the Nodachi. If you can touch my blade without injury, you are either her…”

“Or I am an enemy, and it would be foolish to attack if you knew I was mortal,” Came the resoning forth.

“Either way, I know I have met another real person and I can let my guard down for now. Have you seen the others at all?”

“Not truly, only their copies, though with the number free in this maze, I think we’ve been out of it for an hour. I don’t even know when I’m awake or asleep…”

“Pain.”

“What?”

“Pain, it differentiates from the dream and this place. I’ve been cutting myself occasionally to wake myself up if I suspect the passage has been too smoothly. Hopefully you have not been too bothered by my…” He gestured unable to remember the word in Trade Speak before he switched to Akashiman, “Kodama.”

“Plant spirit? That is an apt name for them. No, I have seen through them, it is only tiring to resist them and figure out who the real one is,” The elf then nodded to him and noticed the scraps that formed the upper body of his kimono.

“I had problems finding you, let’s find Steppenwolfe and the girl and get out of here…”