You had heard about Drakmora long before you ever saw it. Not as a place of war or ruin, but as a place people simply learned to endure. There were settlements there, real ones, with homes and markets and people who lived their lives as best they could. But every story ended the same way. The dragons always came.

You didn’t understand what that meant until you witnessed it yourself. The day had been ordinary, almost calm, until the shadows crossed the ground. People reacted instantly. Some ran, others tried to hide, a few grabbed whoever was closest to them. No one hesitated, because no one needed to think. They had done this before. You hadn’t.

By the time you realized what was happening, it was already too late. The sound of wings filled the air, heavy and close, and something descended fast enough to turn the ground into chaos. You remember being knocked down, the force of it, the noise, and then nothing.

When you woke up, the settlement was gone. You were somewhere else. Stone walls surrounded you on every side, high enough that there was no hope of climbing them. The space was wide, open, and exposed to the sky above. That was the only opening. The only way anything entered or left.

There were others inside. Some injured, some arguing, some watching the sky with a constant, uneasy attention. A few had already tried climbing the walls. You could see where they had slipped, where the stone offered nothing to hold onto. No one tried anymore. Not because they had given up, but because they understood there was no way out.

The first time a shadow passed over the enclosure, everything became clear. Something descended from above, fast and controlled. People reacted immediately, not trying to escape, but trying not to be the one within reach. They moved, pushed, grabbed at each other, doing whatever they could to stay out of its grasp. There was no order to it, just the same desperate instinct shared by everyone.

You saw someone taken. Lifted off the ground, struggling, shouting, and then gone beyond the walls. No one followed. No one expected them to return.

Later, food was thrown down from above. Enough to keep everyone alive. Enough to make sure no one died before they were taken.

That was when you understood. The raids were only the beginning. This is where the rest happens.

You are not here by mistake. You were taken. And at some point, someone will be chosen. There is no way to know when. Only that it will happen.

And then, as if to prove it, a shadow passes over the enclosure once more.

People move instantly.

Someone grabs your arm.

“Don’t stay there.”