Serika's POV
Darkness crashes over me like cold water. The golden torches vanish. The chamber disappears. I cannot see my hands. I cannot see the altar. I cannot see anything.
Only the voice remains.
It fills the darkness like thunder.
"Do not fear, Serika. I am here."
My breath shakes. My body trembles so hard my knees almost give out.
"Who are you?" I whisper. "What are you?"
The darkness moves around me, heavy and alive. Then a low rumble echoes through the air. It sounds like a giant creature breathing.
"Ignaroth."
The name slams through my mind like a blow. The darkness shakes around me as if bowing to the name itself.
I take a step back. "I do not know that name."
"But you will," the voice replies. "For I am the last World End dragon."
My heart stops.
Dragon.
The word freezes everything inside me. For a moment I forget how to breathe.
Dragons are myths. Stories parents tell to scare children. No one has seen one in hundreds of years. The Empire said they killed them all.
"You are lying," I whisper.
The darkness laughs again. It is not a human sound. It is deep and ancient, like mountains cracking open.
"I have no need to lie to you, child."
A soft shake moves through the floor. It feels like something massive is shifting beneath me.
"I am Ignaroth," the voice says, "the last dragon who survived the genocide. The one who watched the Empire murder my kind. The one who burned the sky in rage."
The air grows warmer. The darkness swirls around me like smoke.
"Why are you speaking to me?" I ask. "I am not a dragon. I am not even marked."
"But you carry a spark," Ignaroth replies. "A piece of us buried in your blood. Left long ago. Sleeping. Waiting."
"My blood is normal," I say quickly. "I am just an Unmarked girl from the slums. I am no one."
"You are wrong."
The voice grows heavier. Closer.
"You have been called here because your blood answered my call. You opened the barrier. Only those with dragon fire can do that."
I shake my head. "I did not mean to. I do not understand what is happening."
The darkness softens, curling around me like a fog.
"Then let me show you."
Before I can speak, the darkness bursts into blinding red light.
I gasp as the world changes.
Suddenly I am standing on a mountain. Wind whips through my hair. Heat presses against my skin.
Below me is not a city.
It is fire.
A whole valley burns. Dragons scream. Their wings beat against the sky as soldiers with glowing spears run beneath them, stabbing at their legs, cutting through their scales.
I choke on my breath.
A baby dragon tries to fly away, but a spear of blue magic strikes it in the chest. It falls. It cries once. Then it goes still.
"No," I whisper. "Stop. Please stop."
The scene shifts.
A huge dragon with silver wings tries to protect her young. She breathes fire at the soldiers, but they raise square shields made of glowing stone.
The fire hits the shields and vanishes.
Then hundreds of arrows fly at her. They pierce her chest. Her wings. Her heart.
She roars in pain and crashes to the ground.
My eyes fill with tears.
"I do not want to see this," I whisper.
The vision changes again.
A giant throne made of dragon bones. A man wearing a crown sits on it, smiling as soldiers drag a dragon by chains toward him. The dragon fights, but his wings are torn and bleeding.
Guards stab his legs until he collapses.
The crowned man lifts a blade glowing with icy blue runes.
He swings it down.
The dragon's scream is so loud I cover my ears.
The vision shatters.
Darkness returns.
I fall to my knees. My hands shake uncontrollably. I try to wipe my tears but they keep falling.
"Why did you show me that?" I whisper.
Ignaroth's voice softens, but it still rumbles like thunder.
"So you understand why I need you."
I look up into the darkness.
"What do you want?"
There is a long pause. A heavy breath vibrates the air.
"I want revenge. I want justice. I want the Empire to fall for what they did to my kind. But I cannot do it alone."
I close my eyes. Images of dead dragons burn in my mind.
"I am not strong," I whisper. "I cannot fight an empire."
"You can with my power."
The darkness pulses. Gold light flickers, matching the glow in my arm.
"I can give you strength," Ignaroth says. "Magic. Fire. Wings. Everything they stole from us. You can become the first dragon chosen in three hundred years."
My stomach twists with fear and longing.
"What would I have to do?"
The air shifts. The darkness pulls back, revealing the altar again. Its purple glow shines like a heartbeat.
A deep hum echoes across the chamber.
"You must finish what began long ago," Ignaroth says. "You must make the blood contract."
I stumble to my feet. "Blood contract?"
"Place your hand on the altar," he says. "Your blood will speak for you."
I shake my head. "No. That is a lot to ask. I do not know you."
The darkness trembles.
"You saw what they did," Ignaroth growls. "You saw how they killed us. How they laughed while we burned. How they dragged our children by their wings. Do you want your brother to suffer under the same monsters? The same empire that hunted us?"
Kai.
His face flashes in my mind. Pale. Weak. Coughing blood.
My hands curl into fists.
"I want to save him," I whisper.
Ignaroth's voice becomes softer. Almost gentle.
"Then take my power. We can save him together. We can destroy those who hurt your family. Those who hurt mine. Let your pain become strength."
I look at the glowing altar. The dried blood. The carved dragon eye.
My whole body shakes.
"What if I lose myself?" I ask. "What if your power changes me into something I cannot control?"
Another pause.
"You will not be alone," Ignaroth says. "I will guide you."
I swallow hard. My mouth is dry. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
"What if I say no?"
The chamber falls silent. Completely silent.
Then Ignaroth whispers:
"Then your brother will die."
The words stab straight into my chest.
My breath breaks. Tears sting my eyes again. I step closer to the altar. My hand trembles as I lift it.
The purple glow brightens.
The dragon eye carved behind the altar flares with golden fire.
The air grows hot.
The darkness tightens around me.
Ignaroth speaks one last time.
"Place your hand on the altar. Speak your true name. Become mine."
My hand hovers over the glowing stone.
My heart hammers.
I take a breath.
And everything inside me begins to break