C65 The Pattern Revealed

By dawn, the scraps were no longer scraps.

They had become form—stitched together beneath hands steady with purpose. What began as silent mending had grown into a pattern none had planned, yet all recognized once it took shape.

A great crest, wider than any banner they had carried.

It bore no family sigil.

It was not marked by house, name, or land.

But by a flame cupped within an open palm