THE FLAME THAT WAS FORGOTTEN
The Scroll Whispers Truth
"Light it, Xavier. Only fire reveals fire," Elder Moses instructed softly, eyes narrowed as he passed the ancient scroll across the stone table. The cavern pulsed faintly with unseen power as if the mountain held its breath.
Xavier hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the flint. The air was dry, metallic, and laced with something older than dust. "You said this was locked away since before the founding of Fresh Meadows. Why now?"
"Because the blood has returned," Moses murmured, eyes flicking to the thin red scar glowing along Xavier's palm. "Because she stirs. And because you've begun to remember."
Xavier struck the flint. Sparks danced. The corner of the scroll caught, flames curling slowly across it—but instead of ash, it left glowing script behind, as though fire birthed truth.
He read aloud, his voice barely above a whisper:
"To the bearer of both curse and cause, heir to the flame that walks forgotten,
