The Rift called to her.
It wasn't a sound. Not exactly. More like a pull—a heartbeat just under her skin, pulsing through her bones. She felt it the moment she woke.
Kael was gone. Probably scouting ahead.
She didn't leave a note.
Jackie followed the pull, down through ruined streets and fractured tunnels, deeper into the hollow veins of the city where no light reached.
It wasn't long before she saw it.
A crack in the air.
Not on a wall. Not on the floor.
In the space itself.
Like reality had been torn open.
The Rift.
It shimmered, a wound of glowing threads and smoke, flickering in colors her eyes couldn't fully understand. Her dragonborn blood thrummed. Her heart raced.
And then she stepped through.
---
There was no gravity in the Rift. No time. No body.
She floated through a dream of broken things—memories not her own.
Flashes of wingbeats. Screams. A golden-scaled woman weeping in a throne of ash. A world burning. A voice, ancient and quiet:
> "You were made in remembrance."
Jackie spun in the void. "Who's there?"
> "One of many."
The smoke coalesced. Shapes emerged.
Dragons.
Dozens.
Each massive, curled through the fabric of the Rift like constellations made of fire and thought. They did not move. They did not blink.
They remembered.
And then one spoke.
Not with words—but with a name.
> "Jazira."
It hit her like thunder.
Jackie gasped, clutching her chest. Her fire surged—pure and golden.
"Is that… me?"
> "It is the name before your waking."
"The soul that bore the flame before it shattered."
She trembled. "You said I was made in remembrance. What does that mean?"
> "You are not the Echo. Not yet."
"But you carry her ashes in your blood."
Another shape drifted forward. Smaller. Silver-scaled. Scarred.
> "You are a vessel, yes. But not an empty one."
"You dream of dragons because they remember you."
Jackie stared at them.
"I don't want to be a weapon," she whispered. "I just want to protect people. Be free. Be me."
A pause.
Then, in perfect unison, the dragons spoke:
> "Then rise, Jazira Flameborne. Daughter of fire. Child of choice. The Rift remembers."
And one by one… they vanished.
Except for one.
A great black-scaled dragon with gold eyes—just like hers.
> "When you leave this place, the world will feel colder. Sharper. The truth always does."
Jackie floated closer.
"Who are you?"
It smiled, slow and ancient.
> "The part of you that already knows."
And it whispered:
> "Next time you burn… try using your real name."