As the great phantom Shambhrājiṇī hovered amid the ship's eerie glow, her voice echoed with chilling clarity.
She posed a riddle, ancient and cryptic:
"I have no hand to hold a crown, no tongue to sing a law;
I devour kings and build their tombs, then bow to none at all.
I swallow spring and birth the frost, I eat the river's roar;
You mark my passage with lines on skin — I was, I am, before.
What am I?"
Kael and Lirael exchanged thoughtful looks, their minds racing to decipher the meaning.
While they pondered, Shambhrājiṇī began speaking again, her tone heavy with history.
"You know of the Jalandhar bloodline — one of the greatest ancestors of the Asura, born from the sea, the seed of Chaos itself."
She continued, "He was a fierce warrior, taught by the immortal Shukracharya, the preceptor of the Daityas — the Asuras' guiding god."
"You are a descendant of that line — or perhaps you have fed on the blood crops of a land where the blood of gods, demons, Asuras, and other beings spilled, tended by ancient scholars."
"Humans were then made from the five elements, destined potentially to become gods themselves — a move devised by star-scholars."
"But those schemes were crushed by a descendant of both the Asura and the Pandava."
Her voice fell to a whisper, "This world remembers those bloodlines in you. You carry ancient chaos and order — brewing storm that may bring great upheaval."
Kael felt the weight of those words settle deep in his bones, the riddle still lingering in his thoughts — a vital clue to the battle ahead
The ship's chamber seemed to shrink around them as Shambhrājiṇī towered before Kael and Lirael, the glow from her crimson-veined skin casting eerie shadows over the curved walls. The faint hum of the demon ship's core vibrated through the floor, like the heartbeat of some ancient creature.
Her voice slid through the air like smoke.
"I have no hand to hold a crown, no tongue to sing a law;
I devour kings and build their tombs, then bow to none at all.
I swallow spring and birth the frost, I eat the river's roar;
You mark my passage with lines on skin — I was, I am, before.
What am I?"
Shambhrājiṇī's three eyes locked on Kael. Her spinning left eye slowed, like a hypnotist's pendulum. The void-filled right eye pulsed, whispering hallucinations against the walls of his mind. Images of black oceans swallowing kingdoms flipped into visions of glittering palaces fading into dust, of rivers freezing mid-flow and bursting into deserts.
Kael's breathing slowed. His surroundings blurred.
Wait… what's happening…?
From somewhere deep in his skull, a piercing voice spoke — sharp, commanding.
"Kael… snap out of it!"
His vision jolted. Seris, the Veilwalker, stood now between him and the illusions, her translucent form shimmering in defiance of Shambhrājiṇī's magic.
"She's trying to bury your thoughts under her will," Seris warned, eyes narrowed toward the phantom. "Use your mind — break her sway. Focus on the riddle! Nothing else matters right now."
Kael pulled in a breath, feeling Lirael's faint hand on his arm — steadying him. They were both listening intently, but only Kael's mind was being pulled deeper.
He replayed the words slowly in his head, slicing each line open for meaning. Every phrase was a puzzle piece.
"No hand to hold a crown, no tongue to sing a law" — Kael pictured a vast force, unstoppable, without physical form, yet with mastery over rulers. It doesn't hold crowns, yet kings obey it… it doesn't speak, yet laws bend to it.
"I devour kings and build their tombs" — His mind showed him empires rising in fire and gold, only to crumble into ruins swallowed by dust. Any power, any dynasty… this thing consumes them.
"I swallow spring and birth the frost" — Warmth fading into bitter cold. The turning of seasons. Not the destroyer of one moment — but the endless cycle that changes them all.
"I eat the river's roar" — Kael felt water carving rock over centuries, mighty waterfalls turning to shallow streams, valleys reshaped till their origin was forgotten.
"You mark my passage with lines on skin" — Wrinkles. Age. The tally marks of years etched into the body.
"I was, I am, before" — Past, present, future… all under its shadow.
The answer slid into place like a blade returning to its sheath. Time.
Shambhrājiṇī's deep, resonant voice jolted him from the trance.
"Time is up," she hissed, her third eye flaring open fully. "Tell me the answer of the riddle."
Kael straightened, his voice cutting through the charged silence.
"Time."
The word rang out like a temple bell — certain, unwavering.
The air in the chamber shifted. The walls responded with a low pulse, as if the ship itself acknowledged the correctness of his reply. Shambhrājiṇī's spiraling left eye stilled, her burning forehead glyph dimming slightly.
A slow, amused smile curved her perfect yet fearsome mouth.
"Time… yes. The devourer of kings, the grave-builder, the forger of decay and change. The only sovereign unbound by any throne."
"Many have heard this riddle… most have fallen into my illusions before they could answer. You," she tilted her head toward Kael, "resisted. Perhaps the Veilwalker aided you — I can smell her spectral scent on your thoughts."
Seris met Kael's eye briefly. She knows I helped, the Veilwalker's thought-voice murmured inside his skull. Good — let her know I'm watching.
Shambhrājiṇī's focus shifted back to the blood-scans still hovering in golden-red holo before her.
"Time spares no one, Kael. Not kings, not gods… not serpents of the old void. But your bloodlines — they are riddles within riddles. Jalandhar's wrathful ocean-fire… the Sun-Moon's celestial balance… and even a thread from the lost Tamogarbha Nāgas."
Her voice deepened, layering like multiple speakers in one body.
"You know, Jalandhar was not just an Asura… he was born from the sea itself, forged from the very drishti of Shiva's wrath, carried in ocean waves. He was a student of the deathless one — Shukracharya, master of the Daityas."
Her gaze narrowed at Kael.
"Through him, you carry seeds of Chaos. Fierce power that only answers to will as strong as his once was. But… there's something else in you. Maybe you are not just his descendant. Maybe… you have fed from the Crops of Blood."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Crops of Blood?"
Shambhrājiṇī nodded slowly, her gown's mist curling with her motions.
"In the age before memory, star-scholars gathered the blood of fallen gods, slain demons, dying Asura lords, and countless primordial things. They poured it into sacred lands, infusing the soil with their essence. Crops that grew there had the power to warp a mortal into something… more. Something… impossible."
Her tone sharpened. "Humans, made of the five elements, could bear such a fusion without their own annihilation. But the scholars were struck down, their work destroyed — by one who combined the legacy of Asura and Pandava bloodlines."
The ship's lights flickered.
Shambhrājiṇī leaned slightly closer, her shadow crossing Kael and Lirael.
"And now, boy… you stand here before me carrying traces of every legacy they sought to destroy."
Kael's hands coiled into fists again. The phantom's words raked at his mind. His head throbbed with the knowledge that his very existence might be a carefully spun knot of ancient fates — someone's design, or someone's mistake.
Lirael's voice broke the silence, steady but with a steel edge.
"You asked the riddle, he answered. What's next? Do you honor your word, or is this another game?"
A long pause. Then Shambhrājiṇī smiled — cold, sharp, promising danger.
"One riddle is passed. Many more remain. Survive them… and perhaps you will prove worthy of more than my ship's corridors."
"Fail…" her voice dropped to a whisper that still filled the vast chamber, "and you will join the countless souls woven into my gown."
Kael's gaze burned back at her. "Then keep your riddles ready. I won't lose."
Seris's mental voice murmured like a knife drawn from its sheath: Good. You'll need more than answers before we're through here.
The ship's hum deepened.
Above and beyond them, in the walls, something ancient stirred — as though Shambhrājiṇī's challenge had awakened more than just her.
This was only the first trial.