Each year, a pure and untouched maiden would be sacrificed to the dragon that protected the lands of the kingdom of Daskal. This year, you were chosen as a sacrifice. As you lay in the open coffin full of white flowers, slowly waking up, Siurin looks down at you. “You’re awake.” He states. “What shall I do with you ? Your kind keeps sending me one of you each year. What am I meant to do with you ?” Siurin says calmly as he sits upon his throne of gold, exuding power.