The flickering light of the campfire cast eerie shadows on the rocky walls surrounding Rashid and his companions. The cave they had taken refuge in offered little comfort; the cold, damp air pressed in from all sides, and the weight of failure hung heavily over the group. For days, they had scoured the mountains, following ancient maps and cryptic legends, yet the Eternal Flame remained elusive. Rashid could feel the tension growing, not just among his companions but within himself.

The failure gnawed at his confidence. He had always been the Prince of Morocco, the chosen leader destined for greatness. But with each wrong turn, each dead end, doubt crept deeper into his mind. His inner thoughts had grown darker, haunted by the warnings of the seer back in the city.

The silence of the cave was broken by the soft crackle of the firewood, a poor source of warmth against the icy winds blowing through the mountains. Safiya sat nearby, her eyes sharp, reflecting the flames, as if they held secrets only she could see. Malik was tending to the horses, his movements methodical but tense. Rashid knew he, too, felt the weight of their failures.

Suddenly, Safiya spoke, her voice soft but cutting through the stillness. "We’ve been misled. Someone has been feeding us false information."

Rashid’s gaze snapped to her. "What do you mean?"

Safiya rose, her elegant form casting a long shadow. "The seer’s prophecy, the maps, the guides we’ve followed—they were too convenient. I suspect there’s a force working against us. Perhaps the Eternal Flame is meant to remain hidden, and we are not the only ones seeking it."

Rashid’s jaw tightened. The possibility that they had been deceived had crossed his mind, but the realization stung nonetheless. "Who would want to mislead us?"

Malik, who had returned to the group, folded his arms, his expression grim. "The Spanish, perhaps. Or even one of our own." His eyes met Rashid’s with a steady gaze. "We must tread carefully."

Rashid stood, pacing the perimeter of the cave. The flames danced in his mind—an elusive goal, yet burning with purpose. His entire quest, his ambition to retrieve the Eternal Flame and use its power to secure Morocco’s future, was slipping through his fingers. But the realization that enemies lurked in the shadows, feeding them false hope, ignited a spark of anger in him.

"No more delays," Rashid said, his voice firm. "We confront the seer tomorrow. If she’s played us for fools, we’ll get answers—by any means necessary."

Safiya gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable, while Malik clenched his fist in quiet agreement. The decision was made. The seer, with her riddles and her enigmatic warnings, would finally be held accountable. Rashid’s resolve solidified with every word he spoke, the Prince’s mind locking onto a new course of action. The time for hesitation was over.

The flames before them seemed to grow larger, casting taller shadows against the cave walls.

The wind outside howled through the mountain pass, sending a chill down Rashid's spine, but his decision had fortified him against the cold. He would find the truth. Whether the Eternal Flame was within his grasp or a distant dream manipulated by unseen hands, he needed clarity—and retribution, if necessary.

Morning came swiftly, the sky painted with hues of crimson and gold, as though the heavens themselves foreshadowed the fire Rashid sought. They broke camp with silent efficiency. Malik saddled the horses while Safiya meticulously checked her weapons, her daggers gleaming as sharply as her intellect.

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The ride to the seer’s hidden abode was tense, every rustle in the trees and shadow on the path feeding Rashid's growing suspicion. Who had manipulated them? And why? He couldn’t shake the thought that not just his enemies, but someone close to him might have had a hand in this deception. It was a bitter thought, but one that could not be ignored.

As they approached the crumbling ruins that housed the seer, a foreboding sense of déjà vu washed over Rashid. The ancient stone structure loomed in the distance, hidden in the heart of the forest, its walls covered in vines and moss, as if nature itself sought to consume it.

They dismounted, their boots crunching on the dead leaves scattered across the path. Safiya was the first to move toward the entrance, her posture cautious but ready for a fight. Malik followed close behind, his eyes scanning the perimeter for any threats. Rashid took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation.

Inside, the seer was waiting. Her dimly lit chamber was filled with the familiar smell of incense and ancient tomes. She sat cross-legged on a cushion, her hooded figure almost indistinguishable from the shadows that clung to the walls.

"You return, Prince Rashid," she said, her voice raspy but steady. "I sense frustration in your heart, and questions you seek answers to."

Rashid stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Your riddles have led us astray, seer. The maps, the prophecies—none of it has brought us closer to the Eternal Flame. Tell me the truth. Who is behind this deception?"

The seer remained motionless for a moment, then slowly lifted her head, revealing her aged face beneath the hood. Her milky-white eyes fixed on Rashid, unreadable. "You believe yourself misled, but have you considered that the Flame is not something to be found? It is something to be earned."

Malik scoffed from behind Rashid. "Earned? We have risked our lives on this journey. Enough with your cryptic words!"

Rashid raised a hand to silence Malik, his gaze never leaving the seer. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "We’ve followed every lead you gave us. Why do you speak in riddles instead of truth?"

The seer’s thin lips curled into a smile that did nothing to ease the tension in the room. "Because, Prince Rashid, the Flame is not a mere artifact. It is power incarnate, and power is never given freely. You seek the Flame to bring glory to your kingdom, but to wield it, you must face your darkest self. Only then will you be worthy."

Rashid's eyes flashed with anger. "And you’ve let us waste precious time chasing shadows while our enemies grow stronger. Enough games!"

He took a step closer, towering over the frail woman, but the seer did not flinch. Instead, she extended a bony hand toward him. "You are closer than you think, Prince. The Flame burns within you already. But you must choose how you will stoke it—through light or shadow."

The cryptic response infuriated Rashid, but deep inside, a flicker of understanding began to stir. The quest for the Eternal Flame had been as much about his journey as it had been about the power he sought. The trials, the betrayals, the losses—they were shaping him, forging him into something more.

Rashid clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. "You’ve led us here for nothing but riddles. If you won’t give us a clear path to the Flame, then you are of no use to us."

He turned to leave, but the seer’s voice stopped him cold. "The path to the Eternal Flame lies not in the mountains, but in your heart, Prince. And only when you embrace both your strength and your weakness will it reveal itself."

Safiya’s eyes widened as if she had caught a deeper meaning in the seer’s words. "Rashid," she murmured, "perhaps this is not about finding the Flame but becoming it."

Rashid paused, the weight of her words sinking in. Becoming the Flame? The thought lingered in his mind as he struggled to understand. Was his desire for power clouding his judgment? Was this journey not about claiming something external but about discovering the fire within?

Before he could speak, the seer gave one final cryptic smile. "Beware, Prince Rashid. For the shadow of the Flame can consume even the brightest of souls."

Rashid stood motionless, the room heavy with unspoken tension. He wanted to demand answers, to force clarity from the old woman, but deep down, he knew. The path ahead was not one she could guide him on—it was a journey only he could complete.

With a final glance at the seer, Rashid turned and walked out of the ruin, Malik and Safiya close behind. The cold mountain air hit his face like a slap, but his mind was aflame with new determination. He would not be swayed by riddles or deception. Whether the Eternal Flame was real or symbolic, Rashid would claim it. But first, he had to confront the darkness within.

The journey to power had only just begun.