Chapter Text
Act I
Chapter 1 – The Rift
POV Enid Sinclair
The first breath of dawn was always the coldest. Enid awoke before the darkness that blanketed Caeldor, her clan’s settlement deep in the draconian lands—had fully lifted. Still wrapped in the coarse pelts covering her bed and with the echo of a forgotten dream brushing the back of her neck, she rubbed her eyes. Outside, the wind sang between the cliffs with an ancient voice. That music was familiar, almost comforting, as if the world were trying to remind her that some things remained constant… almost eternal.
She sat up slowly, her bones protesting against the cold that had crept in during the night. Her blue gaze drifted toward the window, watching as frost outlined its edges like a web of ice. The sun had yet to climb into the sky, but a faint glow shimmered on the horizon, one that promised light, though not warmth. Rising to her feet, she let the blanket fall to the floor. Her body bore the marks of someone who had lived too much for her age: arms feminine but firm from training, a scar slicing across the side of her left rib, and another, fainter but deeper, barely visible beneath her collarbone.
Stepping out of the cabin, the cold bit at her skin, trying to dissuade her. She ignored it. The camp still slept, save for the smoke curling slowly from the forges to the east and the distant crunch of footsteps on snow. The clan’s stronghold sat nestled between a steep hillside and a dense forest, protected by palisades of wood and carved stone etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly in the early sunlight. The air smelled of frozen earth, old leather, and the ash of fires that never quite went out. Without needing to think, her steps carried her to the clearing where her companion slept.
“Draco,” she whispered, just before the creature sensed her presence.
The dragon lifted its head slowly, slit-pupiled eyes gleaming in the dimness. Its body was long, more agile than bulky, covered in white scales with blue undertones that turned silver in the sun. Still young, yet its presence commanded respect. It moved with a near-feline stealth, and its temperament… well, not everyone in the clan knew how to handle it.
Enid approached with calm steps, never breaking eye contact. Draco exhaled through his nostrils, releasing a puff of warm vapor that dampened her face. Then, he lowered his neck, accepting her closeness. She pressed her forehead against the scales of his snout and closed her eyes for a moment. There, in that quiet intimacy, all the world’s noise vanished.
–We fly today, remember? –she murmured without opening her eyes. –Ceremony day.
Draco let out a low rumble, almost a purr. The “Farewell Flight to Winter” was a tradition meant to celebrate the beginning of the end of the season, as if it didn’t snow most of the year anyway. Enid hadn’t felt joy for the ceremony since it became an excuse for forging alliances. This year, after the flight, the clan elder would officially announce her potential betrothal to Ajax Petropolus.
It wasn’t that Ajax displeased her. He was courteous, strong, even kind. Yet everything about him felt distant and strange.
She pulled her hand from the dragon’s neck and crouched beside the flight straps hanging from the nearest post. She began checking them slowly. A broken buckle could mean death thirty meters in the air. Her fingers moved out of habit, but her mind wandered, caught between duty and dreams.
A crunch behind her made her turn. A hooded figure passed near the palisade, a watchman changing shifts.
–Wait for me at the launch zone.
The dragon huffed softly. Then, without another word, it took to the sky.
(…)
The sun was beginning to stain the horizon with a faint orange hue, and the snow beneath her feet crunched as if the world were holding its breath. The flames of the ceremonial circle were already crackling when Enid crossed the center of the camp, the flight harness slung over one shoulder. The celebration would begin in less than an hour, and although tradition demanded solemnity, she couldn’t shake the discomfort coiled tightly in her chest.
–You’re late, came a rough voice.
Enid looked up. In front of the forge stood the clan’s blacksmith, an old man with massive arms and tired eyes, sharpening a knife while watching her with a raised eyebrow.
–The sun hasn’t risen yet, she replied.
–But the murmurs have begun. They say today’s your last flight before the wedding.
Enid tensed but said nothing. It was true. Today would be her final flight before accepting the alliance with the Petropolus clan. A commitment to be sealed with ancient words, shared blood, and political strategy. Ajax was the eldest son of the Petropolus leader: an educated, strong, disciplined man… and completely foreign to the world Enid had sworn to protect. Ajax wasn’t a rider, nor did he wish to be.
She passed by the old man without another word.
Draco was waiting in the clearing designated for takeoff. Other dragons were beginning to gather beside their riders. Some were massive and dark, others smaller and swifter. Their scales reflected the dawn like mirrors of stone and flame. The sounds they made, deep growls, metallic shrieks, low hums, formed a primitive symphony. When Enid approached, Draco flared his wings impatiently. Unlike the other dragons, he didn’t tolerate anyone else’s touch; only she could ride him.
–Easy, she whispered.
She sat beside him for a moment, letting her breath align with his. It wasn’t something you were taught. It was something you felt, as if both shared an invisible root, a common pulse. No one had understood why a dragon like Draco, still young and unstable, had chosen her so certainly. Some said it was her blood, part noble, part wild. Others blamed it on the twin she had lost. They said Draco was incomplete, having lost his siblings in an attack before he was rescued… and in that, he was like Enid.
She remembered those words. One of the clan’s elder women had spoken them after her brother’s funeral.
The ceremonial horn echoed from the top of the ridge. A long, deep sound that swept across the valley instantly. Enid rose to her feet. One by one, the riders began to mount. Enid walked to the rune-marked stone, placed a brief offering—a piece of leather engraved with the symbol of her lineage, and turned to Draco.
–Ready, friend?
With a roar that shook the snow, the dragon spread his wings and lowered himself. Enid jumped up, adjusted the harness straps, and let her body align with the curve of his spine. It felt like coming home. Like breathing properly for the first time in days. Then, with a sudden jolt, they lifted off. The wind slammed against her face, forcing her to press closer to her dragon. The mountains spread out beneath them, and the sun began to climb the sky. For a moment, the entire camp vanished into the clouds.
For minutes, there was no land. Only sky… and freedom.
(…)
The descent was smooth and slow. Draco folded his wings just before landing, touching down with elegance on the snowy clearing as if landing were an art only he had mastered. Enid leaned forward and slid a hand along his white neck, feeling the heat beneath the scales.
–If you fly like that on your wedding day, poor Ajax will think you’re just trying to humiliate him, said a mocking voice to her right.
Enid turned to see Yoko Tanaka, her long black wool coat swaying as she approached with arms crossed, dodging a pair of hatchlings shrieking near the stables.
–If I could fly to the altar, I would, Enid replied, loosening the straps on Draco’s harness. –Who knows? Maybe I’ll run away.
–Maybe? Yoko raised an eyebrow. –Knowing you, you’ve already got an escape route planned.
Draco huffed as if he understood, and Enid smiled for the first time that day. Her friend gave her a few seconds of quiet before speaking again, this time in a more serious tone.
–The council’s on edge. Divina said they heard footsteps at the southern rift early this morning.
Enid frowned as they began walking.
–Do they think it’s the Orestes clan?
Yoko nodded. The Orestes clan were their worst enemies right now. She didn’t know whether to fear them more for their brutal tactics or for what they represented: a twisted version of the world she was trying to protect.
–It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but that’s our suspicion.
As they walked toward the dragon pens, the wind rose in brief spirals, lifting snow that had begun to melt under the ritual fires. The celebration continued in the central area, with drums beating an ancient rhythm. Some children ran between tents decorated with blue ribbons. The air smelled of smoked meat and burning wood. Divina was waiting for them near the nesting platforms, standing beside her brother Kent. His hands were covered in sap and charcoal, and his expression turned grim when he saw them approach.
–Do you already know? Kent asked, skipping any greeting.
–Know what? Yoko replied, raising an eyebrow.
–One of Federico’s dragon’s eggs is missing, Divina declared, crossing her arms. –It’s nowhere to be found.
–And the dragon? Sinclair asked.
–Agitated. No one can get close.
Enid frowned. She had been there that morning and hadn’t noticed anything strange.
–Did someone take it? the blue-eyed girl asked.
–That’s what it looks like, Kent admitted.
–Should we report it to the council? Yoko asked, but Enid shook her head.
–Not yet. Make sure no other nest has been disturbed. I’ll go see the dragon.
When she found her, the dragon wasn’t roaring, nor did she appear violent or aggressive. She just paced in circles around the spot where the two eggs had once been, as if waiting for the missing one to reappear. Enid approached slowly, her boots sinking into the snow with each step. Around her, the caretakers kept a safe distance.
–She’s worse than this morning, Kent murmured from behind. –She hasn’t eaten.
Enid said nothing. She kept walking. The dragon was a female with dark scales that shimmered with copper undertones. Still young, but powerful. Her rider had died months ago in a surprise attack from the Orestes clan, and since then she hadn’t let anyone near her, except Enid, on rare occasions. No one knew why. Enid wasn’t her rider, but she had helped her recover after the battle, and had cared for the nest when the eggs were nothing more than two warm stones under ash. That had seemed to be enough.
When Enid stepped inside the circular ash-mark that bordered the nest, the dragon froze. Her eyes, a deep golden amber, locked onto her. The silence weighed heavier than a roar.
–I’m here, Enid said softly.
The dragon let out a slow, misty breath and tilted her head. She didn’t move closer, but she didn’t back away either. The blonde crouched at the edge of the nest and touched the snow with her open palm, still sensing the faint warmth that radiated from the remaining egg’s shell.
–I know one is missing… she whispered. –I know it hurts… but you’re not alone.
The dragon took a step forward, then another. With every movement, the tension in the air grew taut like a string ready to snap. Behind her, she heard someone inhale sharply, followed by the sound of a bow being drawn.
–No, she won’t harm her, Kent’s voice declared.
Sinclair raised a hand without taking her eyes off the creature.
–Easy, she whispered. –We’re going to find it…
The dragon lowered her head, letting her snout rest beside the nest, next to the remaining egg. She nudged it slightly with her nose, as if it pained her to look at it without its sibling. Slowly, the blue-eyed girl extended a hand, holding it out in the air, open. For a moment that felt eternal, nothing happened. Then, as if yielding to something only she could sense, the dragon pressed her forehead gently to Enid’s palm. A brief and intimate gesture.
–We’re going to find it… Enid repeated.
The creature slowly withdrew to a nearby shadow, her breathing still labored, but the earlier desperation had eased. Sinclair stood by the nest, her fingers trembling slightly.
–It’s not normal that she lets you do that, Kent said, finally stepping closer.
–Just admit dragons like me better, the blonde replied, a glint of a smile curving her lips. Kent just gave her a nudge on the shoulder, gently pushing her to the side.
(…)
The council hall was not a grand chamber nor a stone temple like those of the noble houses on the continent. It was a natural cavern, wide and rough, with black stalactites hanging from the ceiling like sleeping blades and a central fire that burned without visible wood. They said the council fire only lit when the clan faced true danger.
That night, it burned strong.
Enid entered through the side opening, her boots still stained with snow. She didn’t bother brushing the frost from her coat or the dried mud from her gloves. The heat inside the cave was thick, almost stifling, and the fire’s smoke danced in slow spirals through the shadows of those already gathered.
Five seats formed the circle of the Council. One of them was occupied by Murray Sinclair, her father. He saw her as soon as she crossed the entrance, but made no gesture. He remained standing tall, arms crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed as deeply as on those nights when they argued alone. He wasn’t wearing his rider’s garb, but the ceremonial cloak of the leaders, with the falcon symbol embroidered in golden thread.
–Enid Sinclair, said the elder clan leader, Cedar Ainsworth, the moment he noticed her presence. –Are you here to testify or to listen?
–Both.
–Step forward, he said, raising a hand.
The conversations ceased immediately. Yoko was already there, leaning against a column, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the fire. Divina and her brother stood beside their mother’s seat, Lady Maerin, another of the council members. The rest of the leaders were in place: Old Fenric, their best strategist; Saja Bree, the egg keeper; and Auro, the youngest member of the circle.
–A hatchling has disappeared from the nest of the dragon that once belonged to Federico, Cedar announced.
A murmur rippled through the hall.
–Is it confirmed? Lady Maerin asked.
–We conducted an exhaustive search and found nothing, Divina affirmed. –There are no drag marks, no blood, no signs of a struggle at the nest.
–And the mother? Fenric asked.
–She was agitated for several hours, but Enid managed to calm her, Kent replied.
The statement fell like a stone into water. Murray narrowed his eyes but remained silent. The blonde could feel her father’s gaze on her, that familiar blend of judgment and concern she knew too well.
–Since Federico died, she’s been out of control. This… this has affected her deeply, Kent added.
Cedar walked in silence around the fire, his steps slow as if weighing each word before speaking.
–Whoever is responsible entered the heart of our territory unseen and stole from one of our nests.
–Someone from the Orestes clan? Auro asked. –Or from the Petropolus?
–No one from the Petropolus clan would do such a thing with a possible union about to be formalized, Maerin objected.
–Maybe. But not everyone wants this alliance, Fenric murmured.
–Perhaps… or it could simply be a direct provocation from the Orestes, Cedar debated.
Enid listened to it all, feeling the words shift from theory to venom.
–Clearly, we don’t know who it was, the blonde interrupted. –And perhaps it will be impossible to determine that quickly. But what is evident is that we need to act.
–And what do you propose? her father asked at last. His voice was deep, authoritative. He wasn’t speaking to her as a daughter, but as a member of the clan.
–I propose we go now—tonight. A small patrol could explore the southern rift; there are reports of strange movement there. We might find traces or question the sentries. If it was the Orestes clan, they must’ve left clues.
–Are you volunteering to lead this group? Cedar asked.
–Of course.
–What does the council say about this proposal? Cedar asked, folding his arms.
–Young Sinclair is one of our best riders. She knows dragons well and knows the area, Auro declared.
–I’m in favor, Lady Maerin said.
Murray didn’t object. Nor did he support her. He simply nodded. Cedar turned back to her once more.
–You have permission to depart at nightfall. Choose who will go with you. If you do not return before the second sun… we will send reinforcements.
Enid gave a slight nod. The gesture was formal, but inside, her pulse had already shifted—not out of fear or doubt, but because it would be the first time she led a patrol alone.
The snow was falling harder when she emerged from the council hall. It wasn’t the soft, silent snow of dawn, but a heavy, restless snowfall, as if the earth itself wanted to bury the footsteps of anyone who dared to leave. Despite that, the camp was still awake. News traveled fast, and the murmurs had already begun. The blonde felt the stares as she crossed the central clearing. Some carried respect, others doubt, but that was nothing new. She had grown up under eyes that always expected something of her… always expected more than she could give.
–Have you named our suicide mission yet? Yoko asked, appearing beside her without warning.
–I was thinking something dramatic. “Journey of No Return.” What do you think?
–How about “Sinclair and Her Lunatics”?
The blue-eyed girl let out a laugh, the sound less cheerful than she’d intended.
–You’re coming with me, right?
–As if I’d let you go on a suicide mission without me, Yoko replied. –You’d die just getting past the gate.
–Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.
–I do have confidence in you. You’re an excellent rider… you just need a little direction.
They walked together toward the dragon zone. The torchlight cast dancing shadows across the interiors of the shelters. The air smelled of leather, scales, and molten metal. Several dragons were asleep, their massive bodies occupying entire platforms. Others stirred, wings twitching, restless from the approaching storm.
Draco wasn’t asleep. He was awake, upright, with his head raised as if he already sensed something was coming. His eyes, pale blue, almost silver at times, shimmered when he saw her enter. She walked directly to him, letting her fingers trace the edge of the flight harness hanging from the wall.
–I don’t like this storm. It’ll be a rough flight, Yoko said, fastening her reinforced gloves.
–It will be. But if we move fast, we can be in and out before the worst hits, Enid murmured, never taking her eyes off her dragon.
She began strapping the harness over Draco’s back with quick, practiced movements. He remained still, used to the ritual.
–Ready, my friend?
Draco exhaled softly, releasing a cloud of vapor that wrapped around her hands. It wasn’t a response, but it was something close to a yes.
–How many of us are going? Yoko asked.
–You. Divina. Kent. Rowan volunteered, and he knows the southern rift well.
–So… five. An odd number. That’s a sign of chaos.
–Everything will be fine. Stop with the bad omens.
–Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Enid smiled, shaking her head. She adjusted the last straps and checked her gear: reinforced gloves, dagger at her belt, sword strapped across her back. Everything was ready.
–My father’s not in favor, she said, almost like confessing it to the leather she was tightening.
–Your father’s never in favor. Though this time, you can’t really blame him for not wanting you to go out in a storm.
–He never likes my ideas… or my decisions.
–So what? I love them, and Ajax finds them fascinating.
Draco lowered his head to receive his rider’s touch. The blonde pressed her forehead against his snout for a moment, breathing in the warmth radiating from his pale skin.
–Can you tell me who actually cares what Ajax thinks?
–Considering he’s your future husband… I’d say you do.
–Right… she whispered more to herself than to the other. –Future husband.
They stepped through the stable doors without looking back. The night was cold; snow fell relentlessly and the wind howled with steady force. In front of the launch platform, Divina and Kent were already waiting with their dragons, making final adjustments. Rowan raised a hand as she approached, smiling as usual. Five riders. Five dragons.
(…)
The first stretch of the flight was silent. Wings cut through the air with precision, and the roar of the wind muffled any thought that wasn’t rooted in the present. Draco flew at the front, the blue-eyed girl leaning over his back like a natural extension of his body. With every shift in her posture, the dragon responded with near-impossible fluidity, as if his muscles had been shaped for that exact moment.
Behind her, the other four riders kept formation. Yoko, as always, flew slightly above the group, as if defying the straight line was a declaration of existence. Divina was centered, meticulous, eyes locked on the horizon. Kent, on the other hand, kept glancing down, scanning the shadows between the rocks. Rowan closed the formation, flying low and at sharp angles, like a predator waiting for a sign.
The snow kept falling, but up there it felt different: lighter, more scattered, as if it floated instead of falling. The valley stretched beneath them, vast… as if it had no end. Between the mountains, the Southern Rift came into view, a natural gash that split the stone in two. The elders used to say that there, echoes didn’t exist… only silence. Sinclair had crossed it once before, years ago, after her twin’s death. She still remembered the silence of that place, as if even the wind refused to exist there.
–How much farther? Yoko asked.
–Twenty minutes, if we keep this pace, Rowan replied.
–Or less if Kent stops zigzagging like he’s hunting buried treasure, Yoko added.
–There could be a trail, Kent argued. –If they were careful, they wouldn’t leave anything at the rift entrance, but if they got careless…
–Silence, Enid interrupted.
Everyone obeyed. Draco slowed down, flapping his wings with less intensity. The blonde felt his body tense beneath her, the muscles vibrating with something that wasn’t exhaustion.
–What is it? Divina asked cautiously.
–Draco smells something.
Enid sharpened her gaze, scanning the rocks, the icy cliffs framing the rift. At first glance, there was nothing. But dragons saw the world differently. And Draco… he rarely made mistakes.
–Smoke, she whispered at last.
They flew closer, and then everyone saw it. A faint thread, thin as a strand of hair, rising from a point near the northern edge of the rift.
–That kind of fire isn’t normal at this hour, especially not in this weather, Divina stated.
–We’re descending. We go on foot, Enid ordered.
The dragons descended one by one, searching for rocks solid enough to allow a controlled landing. Draco touched the ground with a low growl, wings still extended as the blonde dismounted. The ground was treacherous, covered in soft snow over slick, wet stone.
–Do you recognize it? Kent asked as they inspected the perimeter.
Enid shook her head.
–It’s not our style. No one from the clan would light a fire here.
–And the Orestes clan?
–They’re not that subtle, Yoko murmured. –They’d burn a whole tree.
They regrouped near a rocky outcrop. The smoke seemed to rise from below, perhaps from a hidden entrance within the rift.
–This is recent, Rowan stated, pressing his hand against the warm stone. –Someone was here less than an hour ago.
–Do you think they’re already gone? Divina asked.
Rowan shook his head.
–If it were me, I’d still be listening, the young man said.
A heavy silence fell over them. Enid turned immediately, her eyes scanning the stone forest beyond the smoke. Then, for a second, she thought she saw a figure standing on a distant ledge, half-hidden by mist and shadow. A person not very tall, perhaps even shorter than herself, motionless and dressed in black. When she blinked, it was gone, but the chill down her spine lingered.
–We’re being watched, she whispered.
The smoke thinned with each step they took, as if the fire that had caused it had been extinguished just before their arrival. Enid moved at the front, her eyes fixed on the cracked terrain spiraling down into the rift. The group had spread slightly to cover more ground. Kent and Divina moved to the left, slipping between wet stone pillars. Yoko and Rowan to the right, alert for any movement between the rocks. They didn’t speak, and they didn’t need to.
The area where the smoke had originated was barely shielded by a rock formation: a small open cavern, its interior blackened with soot from a recent fire. As they approached, the blonde noticed the embers were still warm.
–No more than thirty minutes ago, Rowan whispered, placing his palm on a rock. Kent crouched beside him.
–There are bones here, Divina added. –Looks like it used to be a deer. Someone ate here.
–And left the fire burning? Yoko asked, skeptical.
Enid didn’t respond. She crouched by the fire. Something about the way the remains were arranged unsettled her. It wasn’t simple carelessness, it was… too perfect. Then she saw it: a small piece of leather, blackened by heat, wedged between the stones. She pulled it out carefully with the tip of her dagger: a fragment of a harness.
–One of ours? Yoko asked, stepping closer.
Enid turned the piece over. On the inside, the branding was still visible: a circle divided into three segments, with a diagonal line cutting through the center. The emblem of the Orestes clan. Her stomach clenched, and her free hand moved to the hilt of her sword.
–They didn’t leave it by mistake, Yoko said. –They wanted us to see it.
Enid curled her fingers around the leather. A murmur ran across the cliffs, and she closed her eyes to listen more closely. It wasn’t the sound of the wind… and it didn’t come from any wild animal. It was familiar…
–Fall back...it’s a trap!