Chapter 7 – The Scroll of Embers
Kael didn't trust the glow in her eyes.
He'd seen that look before—on men who found cursed weapons, or kings who stumbled on ancient truths they were never meant to survive.
Seris was kneeling in front of the open scroll, her fingers barely brushing the brittle parchment. Symbols flickered to life at her touch—runes that hadn't glowed in centuries. Her blood was answering something.
"This... isn't normal," Kael muttered.
"No," Seris whispered. "It's not."
As her fingertips traced a spiral of flame-like characters, the ground pulsed beneath them. The torchlight dimmed, and for a heartbeat, all sound vanished—like the world itself held its breath.
Then the scroll spoke. Not aloud, but in her mind.
> You are the vessel. The white ember returns. Flame remembers.
Seris's hands trembled.
Memories not her own flickered through her mind. A tower made of glass and ash. Screaming stars. A woman with white fire in her chest, standing over a field of bones.
"I know this," she breathed. "I've seen this place."
Kael stepped closer, voice tight. "Seris, step back. That scroll is—"
"I know this," she repeated. "This is mine."
The runes lifted off the page and swirled around her fingers. Heat without pain. Light without blindness. The scroll curled shut, its purpose fulfilled.
Kael's sword was drawn. "We need to move. Whatever that awakened... they'll feel it."
Seris rose, slower this time. The glow in her eyes faded, but not the heat inside. Something ancient had recognized her—and marked her.
"I think I just passed a test I didn't know I was taking," she said.
Kael's gaze was unreadable. "And I think we just set off an alarm older than the crown."
They didn't speak again until they reached the next gate.
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