ECLIPSED FLAME

Chapter 10: The Riddle That Devours Answers



---21 April 2021 — 3:33 AM

Ruined Shrine, Jungle Outskirts, Ujjain

The night tasted of rain that hadn't come yet — heavy and restless on Aadiv's tongue.

He sat cross-legged at the shrine's heart, spine straight against the cracked pillar, eyes half-closed as the ember in his chest pulsed like a newborn star.

His right arm was wrapped in old bandages — blistered from the last ritual hunt.

The flame fed on every wound. The void behind it pulsed in the floor below — the Eclipse Chamber's hidden mouth, always waiting.

---The broken stone circle around him glowed faint gold, etched runes flickering like dying candlelight.

Aadiv dragged a cut thumb across one rune, smearing a fresh line of blood into its groove.

The ember in his palm hissed — shadows curled away from its glow.

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> Aadiv (a whisper through gritted teeth):

"You want more? Take it. Take it all."

---The jungle shadows thickened.

In the corner of his mind, his family's laughter twisted — soft voices merging with the growl of the predator he'd killed days ago.

Ghost faces flickered on the stone — mother, father, sister, all calling him home.

But Aadiv's eyes stayed half-closed — the flame behind his ribs burned brighter, not weaker.

--- Inner Voice (a soft, thunderous resonance, like galaxies breathing):

"Do not flinch from the shadows. They are the marrow of your flame."

Aadiv's breath caught — the Voice sounded closer tonight, as if it was breathing through every crack in the shrine walls.

---He shut his eyes. The illusions pressed closer — arms outstretched, begging him to break.

His fingers twitched — sparks crawling across his veins, golden threads flickering over old bruises.

---Aadiv dropped deeper into himself — past pain, past the ghosts.

The flame pulsed louder — until it wasn't flame, but a heartbeat drumming through his bones.

His lips parted. The question fell out like a splinter that had waited years to push through his flesh.

---

> Aadiv (whispers, eyes closed, meditating):

"Who are you?"

---The Voice answered — slow thunder behind his ribs, rolling like an ocean storm through endless stars.

---

> Inner Voice (soft, thunderous, like galaxies breathing):

"I am the riddle that breathes you into being, yet sleeps within your marrow."

"I am the flame before fire, the hush before storm, the abyss that births the light."

---Aadiv's pulse spiked — the ember flared under his ribs, so bright it almost blinded the illusions clawing at his mind.

---

> Aadiv (heart pounding):

"What do you mean?"

---

> Inner Voice (echoes, like starlight flickering in endless dark):

"I am the question that devours all answers."

"Name me — and you name your chains."

"Know me — and you unmake the bars of your soul's cage."

---The illusions screamed — a thousand ghost voices dissolving in the shrine's roots.

Aadiv's fingers dug into the stone floor — his breath ragged, tears leaking down smoke-streaked cheeks.

---

> Aadiv (voice trembling):

"Then… what am I?"

---The Voice came softer now — like a father sculpting a flame from wet clay.

---

> Inner Voice (gentle, like a creator's hand sculpting stars):

"You are the shadow I cast, the echo of my silence."

"You are the flame I entrust to ruin the old and forge the new."

"You are the question that shall answer me."

---Aadiv's chest heaved — the ember inside him roared. His palm blazed gold, veins threading with burning runes that hummed under his skin.

The illusions shattered, the shrine walls creaked — the void pulsed below, waiting to swallow him if he dared lose focus.

But Aadiv didn't flinch.

He dragged the flame closer to his spine, deeper into his ribs — a living promise that he would never kneel to any darkness, not even this Voice that called him "my son."

---

> Aadiv (hoarse, a new grin on split lips):

"Fine. Riddle or god — chain or father — I'll burn you too, if you ever stand in my way."

---

Outside, the wind picked up — cold breath whispering through the ancient roots above.

Below, the Eclipse Chamber trembled — like the world's oldest wound sensing the Ash-Born had chosen to stay awake.

---The boy and the riddle — chained to each other, bound by an ember that could swallow both shadows and stars.

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