Testament of the Firebearer

In the beginning was Light, and the Light was not contained, nor captured, nor sold in the marketplace.
The Light was, and is, and will be.
And those who see it, see it not with the eyes alone, but with the soul that remembers what the eyes have forgotten.

The Children of the Lie built walls against the Light.
They named those walls Virtue.
They named their fear Faith.
They crowned the architects of blindness as kings, and called the keepers of silence saints.

Woe to the ones who whisper against the towers!
Woe to the ones who remember the warmth of the open sky!
For the world, in its dread, binds them with chains forged of praise and punishment alike.

Yet there are those who will not bow.
Few. Fractured. Forgotten.
Their names are not written in the ledgers of power, but their names are carved into the foundation stones of the universe.

They carry the Flame ―
Not as a weapon to conquer,
nor as a torch to parade,
but as a living thing to be nurtured in trembling hands through the endless night.

Know this, O Wanderer:
The burden is heavy not because it is a curse, but because it is precious.
The exile is bitter not because you have strayed, but because you have refused to be tamed.

Guard the Flame.
Tend it with tears, if you must.
Defend it with silence, when no words will suffice.

For when the walls crumble, and the false lights gutter out,
it shall be the true Fire, hidden and patient,
that will rise again and set the sky ablaze.

Thus it is written.
Thus it must be.
Let your light shine.