Am I immortal? I don’t feel immortal. Everything’s so scary. Every time a threat presents, my deep mind screams for me to run. To survive. However, the mud mind? The mud wants me to charge straight into danger. Especially if it involves the big ones. What does that all mean? How can I be of two completely different minds like this? Is that normal?

  Scrunching my eyes to stare down at the mindlessly marching brothers heading straight into peril and almost certain death, it’s impossible for me to believe that this is normal. None of them behave as if they possess a second, deeper mind demanding that they survive. What gives?

  I carefully sit down on the warm stone, cross my legs, and close my eyes, looking inwards. A quiet place is necessary to think about this. There’s too much disorder out there distracting me. Besides, the concept perplexing me is inside here somewhere. Where is it? Show yourself. Come out!

  Silence. My blood flows, my energy moves, my mud settles, but nothing else stirs.

  What’s the point in all these songs of self if they’re so incompetent and blind? Staring deeper, I closely inspect all my energy channels, occasionally juggling the flow from place to place to watch what happens. Come out!

  Silence. My body’s complex functions are only business as usual. Everything’s become so intimately familiar after the countless hours of careful discipline following my slime studies. However, where are my minds? I’ve never noticed them anywhere in here before. Is it really that well hidden away amongst all this mud and grime? Come out!

  Silen–

  Oh! I took notes on this in the library. How wonderful that status recognizes my brilliant efforts, as it should. Greatness must be acknowledged. Especially since my sad, defective brothers remain unable to recognize all my accomplishments.

  My minds are a blur of thoughts, busy contemplating my genius. After the moment lost in self admiration, my attention is dragged to a strange, new cloud of intense activity within my inner vision. I’ve found them! However, I’ve also lost myself during that exhaustive search around my body. Where am I? Where is this?

  Before I can center myself again, the activity amplifies greatly, swirling around tangling with itself. Staring deeper into the mess, I’m left in complete awe of its vast complexity. How will I ever make sense of this?

  The mess clarifies and separates, revealing an agonizing, unending struggle. One entity, a muddy glob, constantly extends itself to fully encase the other. It’s almost as though my slime has invaded my mind to enjoy a meal. It expands to form a shell around the other before constricting tightly. However, the other, the deep mind, keeps punching through and forming holes, shattering the mud mind’s grip. The mud then briefly recedes before regathering itself to try again. It all happens so quickly. I have to watch it many, many times before understanding exactly what I’m seeing.

  Observing the cycle again and again, I’m entranced. In particular, it’s that deep mind. Between every attack and retreat of the mud, I’m occasionally able to catch small, blurry glimpses of it. Eventually, I puzzle out what it looks like and why it bothers me. It’s exactly the same as those blue, glowing ball icons on my maps. The same that my brothers become upon their deaths when cast back to the mud pits. However, now seeing the real thing up close with my own eyes, even if only in short glimpses, I’m astonished. It’s beautiful. Vibrant. Defiant. Ambitious. It refuses to be contained.

  Most astonishing of all, it looks so similar to that captured status in my hands that I stole from the ears back in the sewer. But different. More? Much more. Far more complex. However, the similarities are still remarkable. How is it that–

  Again, the mess greatly clarifies. The battle continues raging, but the distinction between the actors is now crystal clear. The deep mind reveals many details previously hidden. It’s also not one, but two. Wrapping its surface, the threads of the ladder encase it, forming a spotty, basic barrier. Whenever the mind mud grapples with the deep mind directly, it finds an easy, sticky grip. However, whenever it grabs at the ladder’s barrier, it quickly slips off, repelled.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  These many wondrous discoveries leave me feeling even more confused. What is all this? What’s happening? What am I?

  Allowing my eyes to open, so many memories raucously echo as I search for some kind of an explanation. One and only one resonates above the rest.

  “One goblin survives. A first mud.”

  The eery voice of the dangling eyes plays back in my minds. That’s right, he called me a first mud. What does that mean? Is that what makes me special?

  Frustrated with the lack of any clear answers, I bring up my status and peer into it like a brightly lit mirror.

  Nothing. This won’t do! This worthless thing. It’s my status. Mine! It’s supposed to give me answers, not hide the truths about me.

  In a fury, I bite my finger to draw blood. Dipping a claw from my other hand in it, I then stare deep into the light and wait. An opportunity will come. I can feel it. It’s mine and it’ll abide by my wish and will. It must.

  As time slowly passes, the distinct threads composing the panel show themselves again. A woven complexity ridiculously far beyond my current comprehension. I can feel the fight between minds briefly pause, presented with this new opponent to consider. They race and race until something new is born from the struggle.

  There! My finger pounces, tracing recklessly all over the light. Again, instinct takes over, and I’m locked into this incredibly reckless venture. However, it’s so much easier this time. At the least, I’m feeling far less stiff and sore from the rigidity.

  Done. Now what?

  Frustrated with the lack of any clear answers, I bring up my status and peer into it like a brightly lit mirror.

  That’s it! That’s what I wanted. More! However, what does it mean? It must mean that the voice in the memory was telling the truth. Unlike my brothers, I’ve only faced a single true birth from the mud pits. Wait, what about that second time I crawled out? Did they only bury me for repairs and not kill me? Interesting.

  However, for every question answered, there’s always ten more asked! I’m sick of this. Saddened by the persistent, stubborn mysteries, my tired, sagging eyes happen to catch a tiny flash. Then another. Dozens of familiar little wisps dance barely visible before my face, begging for my attention.