For a long time, neither Aarav nor Rishi Vardaan spoke.
They just sat by the tired river:
one old,
one young,
both feeling something huge and invisible sitting between them.
Aarav stared at the water.
The spot where the shadow had appeared looked completely normal now.Just a little muddy.A little shallow.
As if nothing strange had happened at all.
If Vardaan hadn't been there, Aarav might have convinced himself he imagined it.
But the warmth in his chest was still there.
Waiting.
🌱 "Am I… bad inside?"
"Rishi-ji?" Aarav finally asked quietly.
"Yes, child?"
"You said I have Dharma and Adharma inside me."
"Yes."
"Does… does that mean I'm bad?"
The question came out small, like a leaf being blown by the wind.
Vardaan turned his head and looked at Aarav fully.
His eyes were serious now, but not unkind.
"No," he said. "It means you are human… and something more."
"That's not an answer," Aarav muttered.
Vardaan chuckled softly.
"You are right. Let me answer properly."
He picked up a small stone from the riverbank and held it up.
"See this?"
Aarav nodded.
"If I throw this at someone's head and hurt them, is the stone evil?"
Aarav frowned.
"No. You are the one doing wrong. The stone is just… a stone."
"And if I use the same stone," Vardaan continued, "to build a wall that keeps the village safe from flooding, is the stone good?"
"Again, no," Aarav said slowly. "You're using it for good, but it's still just a stone."
Vardaan smiled.
"Exactly. The stone is power. What makes it Dharma or Adharma is how it is used."
He pointed gently at Aarav's chest.
"What woke up inside you last night is… power. Fire. It is not born 'good' or 'bad'. It is meant to be guided."
Aarav let that sink in.
"So I'm not a… monster?" he asked, half joking, half serious.
"If you were a monster," Vardaan said calmly, "you would not be worried about it."
That made Aarav feel a little better.
A little.
🌳 Walking to the Clearing
"Come," Vardaan said, standing up with surprising lightness for someone so old. "There is a place nearby where I can show you what I mean more clearly."
"But my mother—" Aarav began.
"Your mother thinks you are checking the river," Vardaan said. "You are still by the river. We will not go far, and I will bring you back."
He said it so simply that Aarav's worry softened.
They walked together along a narrow path that slipped between trees.
As they left the village edge, the sounds of daily life faded:
less shouting,
less clanging,
fewer footsteps.
The forest sounds took over instead:
leaves rubbing against each other,
a bird crying out from somewhere high,
a squirrel scolding them for disturbing its breakfast.
After a while, the path opened into a small clearing.
Sunlight fell there in a clean circle, like a spotlight on a stage.
The air felt different—quiet, but not heavy like the morning.Clear.Sharp.Almost awake.
"What is this place?" Aarav asked.
"This," Vardaan said, "is a Dharmic Point. A place where the world is still mostly in balance. Where lies become weak and truth becomes strong."
He stepped into the sunlight circle and motioned for Aarav to follow.
As Aarav entered it, he felt a faint shiver under his skin. The warmth in his chest pulsed a little stronger, as if the flame inside him had just taken a breath.
🪞 Seeing Without Eyes
Vardaan planted his staff into the ground gently.
"Aarav," he said, "to walk your path, you must learn a new kind of seeing."
"I already see," Aarav said, blinking. "Two eyes, both working."
Vardaan smiled.
"You see what is outside. I'm talking about seeing what is inside."
"I already feel what is inside," Aarav said, touching his chest. "It's hot and confusing."
"That is a start," Vardaan replied. "Now, sit."
Aarav sat cross-legged in the circle of sunlight.
Vardaan sat facing him.
"Close your eyes," the sage instructed.
Aarav hesitated.
"Will… more shadows come?" he asked.
"Only the ones that are already there," Vardaan replied gently. "But I am with you. Do not be afraid."
Aarav took a breath and closed his eyes.
He could feel the sun on his face.He could hear the rustle of leaves.He could smell earth and green things.
"Now," Vardaan's voice said softly, "notice your breath. Don't change it. Just see it."
Aarav tried.
In.Out.In.Out.
"Imagine," Vardaan continued, "that your chest is like a small room. In that room, there is a lamp. That lamp is the flame you feel."
Aarav pictured it.
A small, simple clay lamp.Right in the center of a dark little room.
"Good," Vardaan said, as if he could see Aarav's thoughts. "Now… does your lamp have one color, or more than one?"
Aarav focused.
At first, nothing happened.
Just darkness and his breathing.
Then… slowly… the picture in his mind grew clearer.
The tiny lamp on the floor of the inner room…
Its flame was not just yellow.
One side was soft, glowing gold.The other side was deep, shifting black, like the color of a night with no stars.
"I… I see two colors," Aarav whispered. "Gold… and black. Mixed."
"Yes," Vardaan said quietly. "That is what I felt when I saw you."
Aarav swallowed.
"Is that normal?"
"No," Vardaan answered. "It is very rare."
Aarav thought that over for a second.
"Is… rare good?" he asked.
"Rare," Vardaan replied, "is powerful. Whether it becomes good or terrible depends on the one who carries it."
The image of the two-colored flame flickered.
The black side burned a little higher, as if pleased.
The gold side grew steadier, as if determined not to be pushed away.
🧠 The Mind, the Mirror, and the Mud
"Now listen, Aarav," Vardaan said. "I will explain something important. Imagine again that your heart is a room with that lamp in the center."
"Okay."
"Now imagine your mind is like a mirror on the wall. When it is clean, it reflects the light of the flame clearly. When it is dirty—full of fear, anger, greed, jealousy—it cannot show the light properly."
Aarav pictured a dusty, dirty mirror. He thought of times he felt jealous of Kiran, or angry at unfair merchants, or lazy about helping at home. All those feelings seemed like smudges on the mirror.
"So," Vardaan continued, "Dharma is when you act in a way that keeps your mirror clean, so the light can shine. Adharma is when you throw mud at your own mirror, and then blame the world for the darkness."
"That's… kind of stupid," Aarav said honestly.
"Yes," Vardaan said. "Most Adharma is."
Aarav almost laughed, but the picture in his mind was too serious.
"So the gold part of the flame," he asked, "is Dharma?"
"Not exactly," Vardaan corrected gently. "The gold is your connection to Dharma. Your inner pull toward what is right, kind, truthful, balanced."
"And the black?" Aarav asked quietly.
"The black is your connection to Adharma," Vardaan said. "Your inner pull toward selfishness, cruelty, laziness, hunger for power."
"That sounds worse," Aarav muttered.
"It is not 'worse'," Vardaan said. "It is more… dangerous. But remember the stone. Power itself is not bad. What matters is which side you feed."
"Feed?"
"Yes," Vardaan said. "Every choice you make is like giving oil to one side of the flame. Tell a cruel lie to hurt someone? You feed the black. Stand up for someone even though you're scared? You feed the gold."
Aarav's heart thudded.
"So… if both are inside me," he whispered, "I could become very Dharmic… or very Adharmic?"
"Yes," Vardaan said. "That is exactly why Sanatan chose you. And exactly why Adharma has also taken interest in you."
Inside the inner room of his imagination, the two-colored flame swayed.
It almost looked like the two halves were listening.
🌗 A Glimpse of the Shadow
"Aarav," Vardaan said softly, "keep your eyes closed. You are safe. I will show you one more thing."
"What?" Aarav asked, suddenly uneasy.
"Do you trust me?"
Aarav hesitated.
He barely knew this old man.But this old man had pulled a shadow away without fear, had explained things that made some strange kind of sense, and looked at him not with greed or fear, but with… responsibility.
"Yes," Aarav said, more certain than he expected. "I trust you."
"Good," Vardaan replied.
"Now," he continued, "in that inner room, where the flame burns… imagine there is a door. Behind that door lives everything you are afraid to see about yourself: your anger, your laziness, your envy, your desire to be powerful, your fear of being small."
"That sounds like a scary door," Aarav murmured.
"It is," Vardaan agreed. "But it will not open fully today. Today, only a crack. Are you ready?"
No, Aarav thought.
"Yes," he said.
"Then," Vardaan whispered, "in your mind, let the door open just a finger-width."
Aarav took a deep breath.
In the inner room of his heart, behind the flickering two-colored flame, he imagined a door.
Old.Wooden.Heavy.With a metal ring for a handle.
Slowly, as if pushed by an unseen hand,it opened just a little.
A thin line of darkness slipped into the room.
Not the calm, deep black of night.A moving, breathing darkness.
In that thin gap, Aarav saw…
something.
A shape.
Not clear.Not complete.
Like a person made of shadow, standing very still.
He couldn't see its face.He couldn't see its hands.
But he felt one thing very clearly:
It was him.
His own anger.His own pride.His own wish to be seen as special.His own fear of being weak.
All of them pressed together into a single shape.
The shadow-self tilted its head, as if noticing him.
The two-colored flame flickered wildly now.
Aarav's breath quickened.
"I… I see something," he whispered.
"I know," Vardaan's voice came, calm but close. "Do not run. Do not speak to it today. Just know it is there."
"It feels like it's looking at me," Aarav said, throat dry.
"It is," Vardaan replied. "And one day, you will have to step through that door and face it completely. Because the greatest Adharma you will ever fight… is not outside."
"It's inside," Aarav finished weakly.
"Yes," said Vardaan. "Exactly."
The shadow-self took a small step closer to the inner flame.
The flame flared in response, gold and black dancing like two snakes around each other.
"Now," Vardaan said softly, "gently close the door."
Aarav imagined pushing it shut.
It resisted a little.Then gave way.
The crack of darkness disappeared.
The room was calm again, lit by the strange two-colored flame.
His breathing slowed.
"Now," Vardaan said, "let the image fade. Feel the sun on your face. Feel the ground under you. When you're ready… open your eyes."
Aarav took one more deep breath.
The room, the flame, the door—all of it dissolved like mist.
He opened his eyes.
The clearing was still there.The trees.The sunlight.The old sage watching him carefully.
"How do you feel?" Vardaan asked.
"Tired," Aarav admitted. "And… like I've just met someone I was trying not to know."
"That is your shadow," Vardaan said. "Everyone has one. Most people run from it their whole lives. You… do not have that luxury."
Aarav swallowed.
"Is this… the beginning?" he asked.
Vardaan nodded slowly.
"Yes. Today, you took your first step on the path of Sanatan Dharma—not as a word, not as a story, but as something living inside you."
He looked toward the sky.
"Out there," he said, "Adharma is already spreading faster than our talk. Soon, you will see it in kings, armies, cities, even in nature."
He touched Aarav's chest with two fingers.
"But in here… the war has already begun."
Aarav didn't feel brave.He didn't feel like a hero.
He felt like a boy who had just seen a storm cloud living in his own heart.
But beneath the fear, beneath the confusion, there was something else:
A small, stubborn feeling.
A wish.
Aarav did not have words for it yet.
Later, he would understand it was the gold side of the flame whispering:
"Whatever happens… I don't want Adharma to win. Not outside. Not inside."
The Eternal Truth, watching through countless unseen eyes,took note.
So did something else, far below, in the deep shadow realms.
Something that now knew:
The boy had seen his shadow.
And that meantthe game had truly started.
✦ END OF CHAPTER 3 ✦