Only few now remember what the world was like before the Gloom set in. They remember it like one remembers their golden years, colorful, magical, and amazing. But no one remembers how or why it set in. That’s because no one knows, at least know one who wants to remember such a dark moment in history. Those still alive from the days of yore might blame the Gloom on the humans, segregating themselves from the other inhabitants of the world.
Those same humans built walls and weapons. They drew lines in the ground, claiming parts of the world that no one had ever thought to claim. The other inhabitants of the world were confused, unsure of what led to humans choosing such behavior over the paradise they already lived in.
That was just the start. Not long after did the Gloom creep into the world like a river stained red, only the stain was gray. It wiped out all things colorful, spreading like a disease with no end in sight. Those who resisted only seemed to succumb to it faster, with the dragons being the most susceptible.
Dragons, who loved and nurtured the world more than any other creature, could not reconcile the Gloom or the choices that humans were making. Most were wiped out in a fortnight, but there are but a few who remember that long-forgotten part of history. The rest were slain one-by-one until they were all wiped out.
All but one.