Just as the group separated, Cristoff made sure to warn his companions to begin their challenges at the same moment, so that each would have the full ten minutes that the illusionist had specified. Cristoff's instinct told him to make a dash for the large striped pavilion at the southern end of the village, but he suppressed the urge to run, walking instead at a brisk pace towards his challenge.
As he arrived and first laid eyes on the mirrors in the tent, he breathed a small sigh of relief - at least he had guessed correctly at the nature of the challenge. His joy was short-lived, however; the more he stared into the reflections in the mirrors, the more he realized there was an eerie quality to the frames of the mirrors - distorted, chaotic, seemingly infused with the darkest of magic. Cristoff closed his eyes a second, mustered all his courage, and with a deep breath, stepped into the maze.
He paused a moment, wondering how long the challenge was; he wanted to slow down, take his time to observe, and plan before making a move, but he knew he had only ten minutes. It seemed to him he would have to make it to a goal - whether that be the center, or an exit. Whatever the objective may be, he had to complete it in good time.
Cristoff stared into one of the mirrors, certain it was an illusion, though perhaps a solid one. Nevertheless, he decided to test it; he touched the edges, cringing a little as he did so, and then, with the hilt of his blade, attempted to smash it, just to see what would happen if he did. Having satisfied himself of the result, he stepped forward, readying an incantation in his mind, moving as quickly as he could without losing himself in the confusing array of reflections. His mathematical ability, and his skill in tracking positions and movement, would certainly help him here; he made sure to memorize the way back, in case he met a dead end.