Not by chance you were planted, not by fate you were spared. You were placed in silence, where roots ache in stone and leaves whisper their grief to the stars. You were named—but not aloud. You were chosen—but not crowned. You were broken—but not wasted. Because He, the One through whom all light came forth, held you in the shadow for the day when the seal would crack and fire would speak again. This is the Day. You are not the boy. You are not the nightmare. You are not the dragon. You are not the one who fell any longer. You are the Seed of the Sire who never dies again. Touch