As I collect my bearings, I glance around at my new surroundings. It's not the sight that hits me first, but instead the sounds. I'm usually as unobservant as a brick, but after traveling through a relatively quiet jungle for a majority of this journey I'm a little more aware than usual.

A whirlwind of birds cry out to one another- high pitches, soft hums, melodic tweets- and the buzzing hum of insects out of sight in the bushes and trees is constant yet soothing. It's like the entire jungle has been trapped in this glass bubble. This place resembles an indoor greenhouse with its frosty dome glass ceiling (hence the glass bubble mention). It's amazing how much can fit in here, with trees towering up to the top of the ceiling to the metropolitan of a jungle in here.

Tymos keeps getting odder and odder with every room I discover. It's like the missing pieces of the jungle have been sucked from outside and placed inside this palace because in comparison to in here, the only thing going for the jungle out there is the humidity and that's like living in Satan's asscrack.

I begin aimlessly wandering, trying to find a way back into the palace so I can finally confront Tymos. I'm positive if I find him, I'll find the others and, more importantly, Brent.

Meandering through the tall, thick trees where birds cry overhead, I make sure I still have my sword on me- I don't trust anything around me being in Tymos' backyard. As I walk, my dad's ring gently bounces against my chest as it dangles from my neck.

The further I venture into this place, the denser it becomes, causing the light to be slowly suffocated out by the trees overhead just like in the jungle outside. The cries of the birds also become less condense, instead of sounding farther off and more like an echo- the only constant is the buzzing of the insects.

Suddenly, I pause.

As if this couldn't get any weirder...

Sticking out like a stripper in a bingo hall, hanging on a nearby tree is a mirror. Like, an actual, vanity type, oval mirror, just chilling there as if mirrors in jungles are a common occurrence. I dunno if Tymos just prefers having his mirror out here or whatever but it's bizarre, even for him.

Approaching the mirror to inspect it, my eyes catch sight of something else that makes me stop again. Hanging up on a nearby tree is another mirror, this one a different shape and smaller size than the first, but still a mirror nonetheless.

Two mirrors out here?

I can't even begin to start piecing this out- and I don't as I notice yet another mirror! It's only once I begin to become aware do I start to spot the numerous and various mirrors scattered straight down the path I'm on. They're all different sizes and styles and heights on the tree from one another, but they all seem to lead down the path as far as I can see.

Immediately, I'm on high alert.

Still...I want to know the purpose of this and so I curiously (first mistake) turn look at the mirror I originally noticed.

Seeing as it is a mirror, one would expect it to do what mirrors are notorious for doing: reflect. But as I peer at it, I'm surprised to see a toddler-aged me sitting on the kitchen floor with mud caked all over the place. I recognize the scene instantly. Why I'm seeing it, though, is beyond me, but I watch, transfixed on my mischievous self slapping around mud that I had carried from outside where it had just rained.

Not entirely sure if I should be proud to say it, but I was as much of a handful- if not more- at that age as I am now (can't say I'm inconsistent).

As I'm watching little me make a mess of the kitchen, I cringe as my mom comes onto the scene and stiffens at the sight of me ruining everything she just cleaned the day before. She just stands there for several seconds, staring down at me then around at the damage I'd done as if she needs time to process everything. Meanwhile, I'm playing on as if everything is cool, grinning at her and baby Brent who she carries on her hip.

Finally, she starts fussing at me, but I can't hear a word- apparently sound doesn't come installed in these mirrors. I don't really need to hear her words, though, I can just see the frustration and annoyance in her demeanor as she scolds me. Little me apparently doesn't give a shit and continues smearing mud around. Eventually, my mom has to pull me up out of the mud in order to stop me from making an even bigger mess, but I start whining and protesting. I'm fighting back so much that she has to put down Brent and lift me up out of the mud, still fussing and crying. I can tell she's overwhelmed (not a clue where my dad is, probably out of the house) and I wasn't helping with my tantrum. I don't know what happens next as the scene fizzles out and I'm left staring at my own reflection.

"That was...something," I mutter, glancing at the next mirror.

As I walk over to that one (second mistake), now more curious than before. Just like the first mirror, the moment I stand before this one it starts playing a scene from my younger years. This time I look about kindergarten age (again, best guesstimate seeing as I'm bad with ages). It's Christmas time and I'm sitting on the couch at my grandparents' house watching It's A Wonderful Life (because that seems to be the only movie we play at Christmas) with Brent. As I watch, I'm starting to remember this memory, just vaguely.

Brent's curled up asleep like a cat, mom's helping grandma prepare dinner, and it looks like dad is trying to help grandpa set up the lights on the Christmas tree (why it took till Christmas Eve to set them up who knows). As little me pops up off the couch and goes over to dad, I'm already cringing. Everything's starting to come back to me know, like an awful trainwreck in the making. I almost want to look away but you know what they say about trainwrecks, so I continue to watch as my dad shakes his head at me and goes back to work while I give a sneaky grin and reach for the loose cord end to the lights. Can't really give an explanation on what possessed me, it was just stupid shit little me used to do.

I watch as little me begins running through the house with the string of lights, not realizing I was bringing the whole damn tree right behind me. The whole damn tree which my dad and grandpa tried to catch but failed to before it landed on top of a peacefully sleeping Brent. I didn't realize my mistake until Brent wakes up wailing and the sound of ornaments shattering stops me. I'd managed to knock over a box of ornaments when the tree fell, resulting in a pile of jagged shards scattered along the floor. Of course, my mom and grandma come out to see the commotion while my dad tries to comfort Brent who's scratched up from the pine needles. It's just a mess and I remember most of it now, but I'm surprised to see little me still standing there looking all pleased with myself, smiling like it's all a joke.

Like the first mirror, the scene fades away back to its regular reflective self, promptly ending the scene. Even after watching both flashbacks, I'm still not sure what the point of all this is. Why are these mirrors out here? Just to show me that I was a handful as a child? I already knew that. With Tymos, I know there has to be more to this and so I move onto the next mirror.

The next begins playing even before I get there. I only have to see a second of it to know what it is.

In the scene, I'm standing in the playground in the park, waiting next to the swings which are currently occupied. I know for a fact I was seven at the time. There are four swings at the playground and all of them were in use- I remember being kinda annoyed by this, which makes the next inaudible part understandable.

I got to talking to one of the kids on the swing, making up some grand lie about there being free ice cream or something. Her eyes get real big and she stops swinging as she lights up. After a few more convincing lines, she hops off the swing and goes dashing off in the direction I pointed. I watch as little me happily jumps on the swing and start at it. Eventually, the girl comes back and 

I can see how upset and confused she is- now aware of my lie. Clearly, little me gave no fucks as I kept swinging, barely paying her any mind. One part I remember is her asking me to watch her spot for her while she went in search of the lie I made up. She eventually stormed off and I was left with the swing, marking the end of the scene.

"Okay..."

There has to be something connecting these memories to one another. I keep getting older in each scene so maybe it's that? I dunno, I have to keep moving on to the next mirror.

The next one is of the time I spilled a small amount of blue paint on the new carpet in Nora's living room when I was seven still. We kept horsing around, Nora and I, but when I discovered the half-empty bucket of blue paint in her basement, I decided to be stupid me and play around the house with it. Nora got weary and tried to get me to stop, but I didn't listen and soon we got into a little squabble over it in which the infamous stain was made. After our shock- or at least hers because I didn't seem to care- we tried cleaning it up but failed. The scene ended with Nora running around in panic while I just stood and watched her. In the end, I came up with the idea of cutting out the small section of carpet and replacing it with a new patch left over from the 

excessive carpet in the basement. It actually worked for a few days until Nora spilled the beans.

Even after that flashback, I'm still not a hundred percent sure what the purpose of all this is. That is until I reach the next mirror. The scene playing out is one I wish I could bury in my do-not-remember pile.

It's the day I lost the relay race during Sunday school and my dad had to drag me out to the picnic bench where we stayed for hours while I threw the biggest tantrum known to man. In the heat of the moment- and the kindling embers- it seemed justified, but I never really realized, to the full extent, how, not only cringy but ridiculous it was until now. Seeing my younger self cry and scream and fling myself to the ground like a two-year-old makes me want to teleport back in time and slap myself. And for my dad to just sit there and wait it out, it just puts everything in perspective.

The dots have finally connected!

So far, every scene shown to me is a time when I've fucked up. Ruining the kitchen. Fucked up. Ruining the Christmas tree and Brent's nap. Fucked up. Ruining the new carpet. Fucked up. It's just a pattern.

Wanting to see if I'm on the right track with this, I go to the next mirror where I'm greeted with another scene of a time where I fucked up. It's the same thing again and again, no matter where I turn.

I'm not one to live in the past, it's not my style- I'm not even one to try and explain away my behavior in these scenes because they speak for themselves- but there's something that strikes a nerve with me. It was odd to me that there wasn't any sound for any of the scenes, but it turns out I don't need any sound. I remember the stupidity that would get me into those messes, but now, stepping back and watching the whole picture, I can see the others who were around- and there always seemed to be someone else around. I noticed it in the first scene, but it's highlighted in my mind now.

The weariness and stress in my mom's face as I ruined the kitchen, the exasperation and disappointment on my dad's face while I threw my tantrum, the worry and panic creased in Nora's brow. They're not the only ones I notice either. No, it seems everyone in my life is susceptible to my effect. There are my grandparents who, although try to smile and rile me down, always seem to have a heavy cloud over them whenever I act out. There's Cat who, despite her sunny disposition and cheery demeanor, can look worn out by my antics. Even Clifford with his witty banter and dimpled grin is driven to second-hand embarrassment from my actions. And then there's Brent. If there's anyone in this entire universe who's had to deal with the most bullshit from me, it's him. He- one of the only ones out of the entire group- will occasionally let me know when I'm wearing on him, but as I look at these scenes, these images, I can tell there's a lot he doesn't tell me. I guess he was right, you can tell a lot from the eyes, and his eyes tell it all.

Taking a step back from the current mirror I stand before, I try to process everything. I'm a handful, this isn't a revelation to me, but I guess what I'm getting at is...I never realized the impact I had on those around me. All those years of endlessly watching that same classic black-and-white Christmas movie and I still missed the message. My life touches so many others' lives, but instead of adding the flavoring I thought I was, I'm adding- fuck, I don't know what I'm adding but it's not completely positive.

I don't want everyone to be like "Yeah, Joan, she's the fastest girl in town but she'll give you a headache for weeks with just one visit", that's not my goal.

"So."

As I whirl around expecting to face him, all the scenes fade away. I know he's not literally right behind me, but he always sounds like it.

"We've come exactly where I've wanted you to be this entire journey. The whole reason for this little game of ours."

Though my fists are clenched, I'm silent.

"Yes, this is about your tyrant of a father and his bloody past, and yes this is about your bloody crown, but if I could sum up this entire ordeal neatly into a question it would have to be: Who are you, Joan?"

I want to answer, I want to defend myself with sharp cutbacks and dry words, but I can't say a word because that question, that "Who are you?" it's something I actually, for the first time in my life, have to think about.

And that's what he wants.

This quest definitely didn't start off to be a deep, spiritual find yourself journey, and I never thought of it like that for a majority of this trip, but I have learned about myself. I've experienced some crazy things, I've heard crazier things, I've acted the craziest I have in a while- yeah, it's been an adventure. And wasn't that what I was looking for? I dunno now, but if there's one thing 

I do know- one thing I will never forget- it's myself.

"So you want to know who I am?" I ask him, my voice as strong and confident as I always have it."I'm exactly who you think I am. I am Joan Domshov."

"A girl with a bloody crown," He taunts, clearly trying to rattle me.

"Yeah," I shrug. "That's part of me, but the keyword is part, that's not who I am. My parents and grandparents may have done some things which weren't right, but I'm not them."

Tymos must have gotten tired of putting on an act because his voice is pretty revealing about his true feelings now.

"You believe you can separate yourself from the damnable actions of your father? You believe that you know who you are?"

I can't help but smirk. "Maybe, Tymos, the question you should have asked yourself is: Who is Joan Domshov? Because I already know myself and you apparently haven't got the memo yet."

"What a warped, twisted conscious you have on you." He muses darkly. "I might just have to put it to the test."

"Go ahead, just tell me where to find you," I challenge, tired of getting the runaround.

"Since you are so sure of yourself, I am certain you can find a way to me."

This is the second time I can successfully say I've gotten under his skin, and damn it feels good. But it honestly feels even better to have released all those pent-up words from inside my head- to let the world know (even if it was just him and me) that I know who I am.

Tymos is done toying with me, but I'm still in the same place I was before. None of the mirrors play their scenes anymore, they simply do their job and reflect. It's great I'm not under Tymos' mind game anymore, but I don't have a clue how to get to him or the others.

Wandering further down the path still, I'm already mentally and physically bracing myself for whatever Tymos might throw at me next. I've angered the rattlesnake, now I have to wait and prepare for the strike back.

All my wandering leads me to the end of the path where I come across the biggest mirror I've seen hanging up so far. It's a simple but elegant oval mirror that's positioned dead center in the middle of the tree- you can't miss it. Like the others, no scene plays, it just reflects.

"Now what?" I mutter to myself, glancing around to see if there's another way out.

Approaching the mirror, I try to look around the tree for any secret lever or something, but as my hands touch the surprisingly cool glass, my eyes drift up and catch an interesting sight. Along the edge of the mirror, fainter than wrinkle lines, are several light cracks. Now, I would normally never waste time on such minor details, but something in me gets curious and as I squint at the cracks, I lightly tap the mirror with a finger. Not only does the hollow tap get my attention, but the spreading cracks quickly help me realize that something's up.

I tap again, a little harder, and again the cracks spread like a web. I'm onto something, I can feel it. Whether I'm ready or not, I decide to try my luck and go full force. With the palm of my hands and the entire force of my body, I slam into the mirror.

Like I intended, the glass shatters completely, but what I wasn't expecting was for there to be nothing but pitch black darkness behind it. I don't have time to pull back from the black vortex before I fall in.