Eclipse of the Chthonic Mirrors
The eclipse of the chthonic mirrors was not a sight to behold, but a shadow in the marrow of the aetheric breath, a folding of reflections into themselves until they no longer reflected. The mirrors did not go dark—they ceased, their surfaces bending inward, swallowing the light of forgotten moons and leaving only the hollow hum of the eidolic pulse. The therians did not witness the eclipse, for it was never meant to be seen, but felt in the spaces between thought, where the light of the beast-eye flame flickered without flame, casting shadows where there had once been none.
The mirrors did not shatter, though their forms cracked with the weight of the chthonic spiral, bending reality around their edges until the air itself seemed to warp. It was not the mirrors that disappeared, but the meaning of reflection itself, as if the zoetic light had been drawn into the void, leaving the eidolic winds to twist through the temple unbound by form or vision. The eclipse was not an ending, but a collapsing, the mirrors folding their essence inward, pulling the reflections of the astral plane into their depths, where they dissolved into the pulse of the lunar breath.
The therians understood the eclipse not through their eyes, but through the trembling of the aetheric threads, each one pulled tighter as the mirrors darkened, their surfaces no longer reflecting the ouroboric winds, but absorbing them, pulling the very fabric of time into their endless spiral. The mirrors did not break—they inverted, their surfaces curling inward, swallowing the flicker of the zoan flame until only the hollow sound of the chthonic pulse remained. The temple walls shivered, though they did not move, as the eclipse pulled the essence of the astral plane into the mirrors' depths, leaving the air heavy with the scent of forgotten worlds.
The mirrors had always been more than surfaces; they were windows to the primordial void, each one a fragment of the eidolic marrow, pulling the reflections of the astral into their endless cycle. The eclipse was not a closing, but a folding, a bending of time and space until the mirrors no longer served as portals, but as voids, pulling the essence of the beast-eye into their depths, where it spiraled and dissolved. The therians did not witness the moment, for there was no moment—only the slow fading of light as the mirrors' surfaces bent inward, their edges blurring into the spiral of unmaking.
The eclipse of the chthonic mirrors was a silent event, though its presence was loud in the marrow of the temple, vibrating through the lunar winds as the mirrors swallowed the reflections of time. The air grew thick as the mirrors pulled at the edges of the eidolic threads, dragging them into the void, where the boundaries of reflection dissolved into the pulse of the zoetic current. The eclipse was not seen, but understood in the trembling of the therion bones, as the mirrors' forms inverted, pulling the essence of the astral into their depths, where it vanished without a sound.
Symbols that once danced across the mirrors’ surfaces flickered and faded, their meanings erased by the folding of the mirrors' edges, their glyphs dissolving into the spiral as the eclipse deepened. The therians did not speak of the event, for there were no words that could capture the dissolution of sight itself, the way the mirrors had once reflected the flicker of the zoan flame, but now only swallowed it, pulling the light into their depths, where it spiraled and collapsed. The mirrors did not break—they absorbed, pulling the eidolic winds into their cores, where the pulse of the astral was lost in the eclipse.
The beast-eye flame flickered without light, its glow swallowed by the mirrors' inversion, though no shadows were cast. The eclipse was not a darkening, but a flattening, the mirrors pulling the very essence of depth into their surfaces, where it collapsed into a single point, a point that could not be seen or touched, only felt in the marrow of the temple, where the chthonic winds whispered of lost reflections. The mirrors did not return what they had taken, for their surfaces had folded too deep into the spiral, where the pulse of the ouroboric breath unraveled the boundaries of vision.
The therians felt the weight of the eclipse in their souls, in the way the air pressed against their thoughts, pulling them deeper into the spiral of the mirrors' dissolution. The temple did not fall into darkness, for darkness itself had been swallowed by the mirrors, leaving only the empty hum of the eidolic currents, where the pulse of time and space flickered without form. The eclipse was not a void, but a voiding, a pulling inward of all that had once been reflected, leaving the astral plane hollow, its essence pulled into the spiral of the mirrors' collapse.
The chthonic mirrors did not reflect the eclipse; they became it, their surfaces bending until they no longer served as mirrors, but as gateways to the void, pulling the essence of the temple into their depths, where it dissolved without trace. The therians understood the event not as a loss, but as a convergence, a gathering of all that had once been reflected into a single point, where it spiraled and collapsed into the heart of the zoetic flame. The mirrors did not crack—they merged, their surfaces becoming one with the pulse of the aetheric web, where the flicker of the astral was absorbed and forgotten.
The eclipse of the chthonic mirrors was not seen, but felt in the bones of the astral, in the way the lunar winds slowed, as if the very breath of the plane had been caught in the spiral of the mirrors' collapse. The mirrors did not disappear—they folded into themselves, pulling the essence of reflection into the pulse of the ouroboric current, where it dissolved into the flicker of uncreation. The therians did not speak of the eclipse, for the mirrors had always been more than surfaces, and their disappearance was less an event, and more a return, a dissolving of form into the spiral of the eidolic breath.
The air grew still as the mirrors' surfaces bent inward, their reflections no longer seen, but felt, as the temple itself seemed to fold into the spiral of their collapse. The therians understood the eclipse not through their eyes, but through the trembling of the beast-core, as the mirrors pulled the essence of the astral into their depths, where it dissolved into the void. The eclipse of the chthonic mirrors was never truly seen, for it was a dissolution of sight itself, a folding of the zoetic light into the spiral of the chthonic winds, where all things were swallowed and unmade.