The answer is Aureflame.
Just then, as though the flame itself recognized his courage, the fire spread outward with a sudden, rippling burst. The walls of the chamber trembled in the golden glow before dissolving, unveiling the next stretch of the maze.
Simma could hardly believe it… he had spoken true.
Aureflame.
His dragon's breath, the golden fire that was both gift and curse, had become the key. The victory sat heavy yet wondrous in his chest, though already his thoughts raced ahead, wondering what greater trial awaited in the last of Zolomon's riddles.
He didn't have to wonder long, for before he could say hey, he was already facing it. The last riddle hint.
"From light is born the shadow that follows, the first feeling you get is what should be avoided, and only in its eyes of this shadow, will you see the path to your end."
Before Simma could brace himself, darkness surged. It stretched outward like a blanket pulled across the sky by an invisible hand, smothering the chamber in endless night.
And with that darkness came fear.
Something moved. A flutter, too swift for the eye but loud enough for the soul. Simma's heart slammed against his ribs, his legs weakened, and every nerve in his body screamed to flee.
The unseen thing swept past again, and he shuddered, the air itself felt alive, predatory, as though the shadows had grown claws.
But he calmed his nerves. This wasn't an answer. No… to find it, he had to focus on the hint presented and not on the distraction.
"The first feeling should be avoided", he recalled.
That was it. Since the first feeling he received after the darkness bloomed was fear, he had to push fear aside. No true Azren should be afraid of darkness or the Waithraites as a whole.
Then he thought through the rest, "Only in its eyes will you see the path to the end."
He drew another deep breath as whatever that had been there with him fluttered past again. This time Simma didn't bother. He stood, very much alerted, bracing himself. Too bad there was no sit belt lingering around, for this was the perfect time to wear one.
And just with warning…
GRAAAAA!
Two colossal orbs burst open before him, glowing pale and merciless. Their rush scattered his hair in a gale of wind, their presence enough to crush a lesser soul. Yet Simma did not flinch. He gazed into them as if they were no more frightening than a dying ember.
He drowsily yawned as though the entity wanted to throw him a party.
Bravery, the eyes whispered. Though no mouth moved, the word pressed into his mind like the weight of an iron gate, as Simma wondered if it talked also with its eyes.
The eyes circled him, slow, endless, and predatory. Simma did not follow. He stood rooted, his hands loose at his sides, his face half-hidden beneath a yawn of feigned indifference.
"I see a person is fearless," the eyes murmured, their voice a winter chill. As it had completed a full revolution and had come back to Simma's front.
"Is a person ready to answer my riddle?"
Simma gave the smallest nod.
"Good." The shadows bent and the voice thundered:
"I am the shadow a person cannot flee,
The silence before the storm's decree.
My eyes are lanterns in the pitch,
My claws will find a person, stitch by stitch.
Call my name…. if a person dares."
Simma looked up again as he said the words that came to his mouth at once, to show he wasn't afraid to speak his name. Somehow it was a riddle, not fully though. It was more like a test to know if he was courageous enough to say the name which mysteriously came to his mouth.
He raised his voice, sharp and steady:
"YOU ARE XYRATH."
The eyes lunged at him once more, rushing with enough force to tear the courage from most hearts. But Simma had already shed his fear. He stood unmoved, unwavering, a smirk tugging faintly at his lips.
The eyes halted. Silence pressed down. Then, at last, the voice returned, colder than frost, heavier than stone.
"I see a person is ready to move on…. If so… A person must proceed."
And with those words, the eyes dissolved into nothingness. The darkness lifted like a curtain, unveiling the final phase of the maze.
Simma walked forward, his ever-watchful Ms. Shady whispering directions into his soul.
The path led him to a door….. no ordinary door, but a towering slab of gold carved with the snarling visage of a dragon. Firelight danced across it from torches perched in the vines of the maze walls, making the dragon's eyes glint as if alive.
He pushed, but the door did not budge. Not even a tremor.
Frustration welled in his chest. He had not failed a single riddle. Why now was the door sealed? He shoved again, and still it mocked him in silence.
Then, an envelope shot out from the void itself and landed at his feet.
Simma bent to pick it up, déjà vu crawling up his spine, for he relieved the last time it had happened.
A single line was scrawled across its face:
Feed me with your gaze
if you want out of Zolomon's maze.
He tore it open and drew out a piece of aged parchment, ink faded but words clear:
"Beyond the door is a wonderful light.
All you are reckoned upon is make meaning and connect all your plight,
So as to behold such wonderful sight."
"Oh, come on," he bellowed, "enough of the riddles already!"
He thought he was done, and now there was yet another puzzle.
He was still in between frustration and confusion when his Azrax said:
-------------------
[Say the password and you get to see the world beyond]
-------------------
"Great, just so great," Simma muttered as he dived yet into another thinking, hoping it was the final clue he needed to find.
"Alright, it says connect all your plight," Simma thought, his index finger around his jaw in a thinking position.
Perhaps it didn't mean suffering, but the riddles themselves.
"Makes sense… maybe they meant connect all your… riddles?"
"Yeah!" he bellowed. He just got an idea.
Just then he bent down and scribbled down all the answers to his riddles:
Ashveil
Zephyr
Runestone
Aureflame
Xyrath
No way… it made sense now when they say connect all your plight.
He circled out the first letters to each answer and it gave him:
(A)
(Z)
(R)
(A)
(X)
The realization struck like lightning, quick and undeniable. He smiled despite himself, though disbelief lingered in his narrowed eyes.
With a single breath, he spoke the word aloud:
"AZRAX."
The dragon-headed door groaned, hissing as ancient gears clanked to life. The sound was maddening… metal screeches grinding against the air like tortured voices. Simma covered his ears as the slit of light between the doors widened, growing brighter, whiter, and blinding.
The light was pure white and blinding that Simma saw nothing beyond. He tried to dilate his eyes but then….
------------------
[Step out in 5…4…3…]
------------------
Simma wasted no time as he immediately ran out before the countdown would dawn on him.
But when he ran through the door, the ES completed the count down:
-------------------
[1…0 door closed]
-------------------
As the door automatically closed.
Simma made to continue his journey, but a loud gasp left his mouth. If he took that step, he would have plummeted into an endless pit that yawned below.
Just then, he looked around.
The door he had stepped out of leaned to the side of a very flat rock. A rock that was wild and high - higher even than the Great Wall of China, and the only thing that protruded out was just the 4 feet horizontal plane Simma was standing on.
The ledge beneath his feet which stretched barely four paces across, was like a stone tongue jutting from the mouth of a vast, flat-faced giant. Beneath him, the world yawned open into an abyss without end.
Simma stood on the plane; fear written all over his face. He leaned to the door, making sure he was not at the edge of the very short plane he stood.
Sweat gushed out his face, although the breeze at that height was very calm, subtle, and cool.
Just as if the surprise wasn't enough, his ES spoke again:
------------------
[Simma]
[Registered choice: the fall]
[Brace yourself, the fall commences in this countdown]
[The countdown is… 0]
-------------------
Just at that number (0), the only plane that held Simma broke off and…
"AAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!"