Chapter: The Scrolls Arrive
Whispers had already begun to spread across the continent—anomalies surfacing in children, ripples in bloodlines long thought stable. And then, the scrolls began to arrive.
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In the towering spires of House Aurelius, thunder cracked unnaturally on a clear day. Lightning arced across the skies, as if heralding something ancient awakening. Kael stood in the family courtyard, surrounded by statues of their ancestors, when the scroll dropped from the air like a spear of light. His older brothers, already celebrated for their combat prowess, watched with wide eyes.
Kael's hands trembled. He wasn't the most powerful in the house. Until now.
His scroll glowed in a rhythm almost... alive. And when the seal broke open, the glyphs inside whispered something no other scroll ever had: anomaly detected.
Further investigation required.
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In the cold, echoing halls of House Virellia, the snow never melted. It was there that Ivan, the quietest of five children, received his scroll beneath a frozen skylight. His parents didn't bat an eye. Another scroll, another formality. Or so they thought.
But Ivan's scroll didn't freeze. It shattered the frost around it, radiating power. The ice did not consume it. It bowed to it.
His sisters, perfect in poise and form, peered from behind the columns, unsettled. Ivan simply stared into the glyphs, and they stared back.
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A grand estate by the sea, where gold-trimmed windows glinted in the midday sun, belonged to House Nairoveth. And in its rose-stained garden, Celeste's laughter was cut short when the scroll appeared above her parasol.
It was gilded.
Unlike her siblings, who had received ordinary assessments and excelled only through fierce training, Celeste's scroll opened to reveal a mark of heritage not seen in generations—Ocean's Wrath, a lost affinity. Her mother dropped her glass of wine.
Celeste smirked.
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But in the shadows of all this, two scrolls had already arrived—unlike any other.
Seraphina Ravenshade, bold and brilliant, had received hers beneath the whispering trees of the family grove. The scroll did not speak of anomaly.
It said only one statement:
Echo-born.
Further Investigation required
Her mother folded it quickly, eyes unreadable. Her father whispered to the wind.
They knew. They had always known.
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Lioren Valerborne had burned his scroll.
Or rather, tried to. The shadows around his chamber refused to let it catch. They danced with it instead, holding it aloft, letting the words imprint themselves into the stone walls:
Echo-born. Investigate. Suppress if necessary.
His uncle read it aloud.
Lioren didn't flinch.
He was used to being a danger.
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The five scrolls marked the beginning.
And though only Seraphina and Lioren bore the mark of the Echo-born—souls tethered to something older than memory—the others would walk beside them.
Five paths, entwined by fate.
The academy had no idea what was coming.