The original. Only a radius around you is ever visible — navigate the fog by memory.
Your torch burns down as you walk. Tablets light the way — but wake the sand behind you.
You always see straight down open corridors — telescopes fix a sightline for good.
The stone lanterns you light are what stay charted — the summit gate needs every one lit.
Warmth fades as you wander a frozen tundra. Your fox can hop clean over a wall.
Day and night trade places as you walk — moonlit gates open only after dusk, and scarecrows might help, or might not.