Requiem of the Forgotten

Two weeks. That's how long it took for us to stop feeling like refugees and start feeling like… something else. Survivors? Settlers? Or just idiots who didn't know when to keep moving?

Either way, people had settled into a rhythm. The mornings were predictable—some woke early to fetch water, others checked for food. People talked, people argued, and people worked because they had no other choice. The panic of the first days had faded, replaced by a dull kind of acceptance.

But even in all that, I still couldn't shake the feeling that none of this was real.

"Are you gonna eat that, or are you just gonna stare at it?"

I blinked and looked down. Some kind of roasted root sat in my hand, its charred skin peeling back to reveal a soft, steaming center. I wasn't sure if it was edible, but at this point, no one was. We just ate whatever didn't immediately kill us.

Carmen was staring at me from across the fire, her arms crossed. "Dude, if you're not gonna eat it, pass it here."

I sighed and took a bite. It tasted like burnt dirt. Perfect.

A few feet away, Daisuke was scribbling something in his notebook. "If we find more of these, we should document where they grow. Reliable food sources are the first step to long-term survival."

Nikita, sharpening a makeshift spear, snorted. "And the second step is making sure someone else doesn't take them from you."

Carmen rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you sound dramatic. We're not fighting over scraps yet."

Amina, peeling a fruit in silence, glanced up briefly but said nothing.

This was how things had been for days now. Small conversations, tiny victories, people adjusting. Some had already broken off, splitting into smaller groups and heading deeper into the land to form their own settlements. The ones left behind? We were the ones who hadn't decided yet.

The more time passed, the more it felt like I was just going through the motions.

Wake up. Eat. Walk. Talk when necessary. Avoid unnecessary arguments. Try not to think too hard about how I was in a world where elves, dwarves, and other beings existed. A world that didn't make sense.

But the cracks were starting to show.

I found myself staring too long at the sky, half-expecting to wake up in my bed, my phone buzzing with an overdue alarm. Or maybe I was already dead, and this was some elaborate afterlife with worse Wi-Fi.

It wasn't just me, either. People whispered at night about how this world didn't feel real. Like it was too still, too perfect. Like it was waiting for something.

I didn't want to think about what.

Then came the decision.

"We need to decide."

Carmen stood near the fire, arms crossed, her expression serious. "We can't just keep acting like we're a temporary camp. Either we move and find something better, or we build something here."

Nikita scoffed. "You say that like it's an easy choice."

"It's not," she admitted. "But it's still a choice."

A few others started chiming in, some agreeing, some pushing back. Daisuke pointed out that civilizations only started once people stopped moving. Amina, as always, remained neutral.

I stayed quiet, listening. I already knew my answer.

Moving meant more unknowns, more risks. Staying here at least gave us something. Water, food, shelter.

But the others weren't convinced. Arguments continued, back and forth, no resolution. Eventually, one by one, people started giving up for the night.

The last thing we tried before that? Finding a name. It should've been easy. But somehow, every suggestion turned into an argument. 'New Earth' was too pretentious. 'Haven' was too cliché. 'Freedom's Rise' made us sound like a bad rebellion faction from a movie.

"Screw it," Carmen finally groaned. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. If no one kills each other by then."

"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Carmen muttered, stretching. "If no one kills each other by then."

I lay awake for a long time after that.

The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows over the camp. People slept around me, but my mind wouldn't shut off.

And then—

A shadow passed over us. Massive. Slow. Wings.

I sat up just in time to see it—a dragon.

It soared silently above, dark against the stars, wings stretched impossibly wide as it glided through the night. It didn't attack. It didn't land. It just… watched.

My breath caught. The others, still half-asleep, started to stir as they noticed it too. Someone gasped. Someone whispered a curse.

Carmen groggily pushed herself up. "Tell me I'm dreaming."

Daisuke, still blinking away sleep, exhaled a laugh. "Maybe it's a sign."

Nikita rubbed his eyes. "Let's hope it's not a bad one."

Amina, watching the sky, finally spoke. "Then I guess we know what to call this place."

Carmen grinned. "Dragontown."

I let out a slow breath, still staring at the sky.

"…Yeah. Dragontown works."