AN: So, this is my first story and i need to point a few things out. First, i am doing this on a whim and did not planned this out so don't expect rigorous updates. Second, i have no experience in writing prior to this, this is my first try so i will welcome any review that might help me improve. Lastly, English is not my first language, i have a limited vocabulary and have a difficult time construction diverse sentences. I am trying to improve on this aspect as well.

AN2: I actually scraped my original second chapter, it was boring and just went nowhere. So i added the relevant part to this one, as well as some other changes.

Apologies for any confusions caused by this.

With that said, i hope you get some enjoyment out of this.

Plegia, year 979.

It was now or never. The Ylisseans vanguard had broken through. With the city's garrison depleted and no armies able to make it in time to this portion of the front, there was no choice but to act now.
She had gathered what she would take with her, some instruments, gold coins and books. Now, she only needed to take what mattered the most.

The temple's corridors where mostly empty. Most of the staff and guards where in the streets, organizing the defenses and evacuation. It was the one advantage of the ongoing war, it provided her with a unique opportunity to make her move. She was now in the basement, the few priest she had encountered where to busy to pay attention. As she rounded the last corner, she met her only obstacle.

« Wha—! Lady Morg—! » The guard's exclamation was cut short by the lightning bolt that pierced his throat. She made sure to catch him before he hit the floor and proceeded through the door.

Only one guard to protect the main laboratory. The order truly had become overconfident, she thought, or they were simply overextended by the war. Still, the place was messy, dark and she could not afford to loose time to find what she came for. Someone was bound to notice that she was gone from her assigned position.

« Where are you ? » The whisper passed through her gritted teeth. As she casted a small flaming ball to light the room she heard it. In one of a corner, what seemed like a small high-pitched whine attracted her attention and she let out a sigh « There you are, little one. »

As she came close to the object of her attention, she brought up the flame to inspect it. Said object was an orb made of glass, roughly the size of a full-grown pumpkin. But what really mattered to her was the being locked inside. There, six small purple eyes blinked back hat her while a long month slowly opened revealing sharp teeth in what she had come to understand was a smile.

« Glad to see me ? So am i. » She quickly grabbed the cloth she had brought with her and enveloped the orb. « Time to go little one. »

Once more, nobody paid attention to her as she traversed the stone corridors. Or as she exited the temple. Or as she loaded her horse and guided him through the deserted alleys of the city. Finally, no-one noticed when passed the gate and galloped north, away from Plegia.

Regna Ferox, a week later.

Ferox, as it turned out, was not the frozen wasteland that had been described to her back in Plegia. Not that she believed it in the first place.

While the climate was certainly colder, the forests and small streams of water that covered the south-west of the land provided much more opportunities for a small community to survive than the Plegian drylands did.

This region was, in fact, densely populated if one was to compare it to the whole country. However, most of the population did not live in cities but in small village that survived independently. And that was exactly why Morgan, previously known as Lady Morgana of the Grimleal order, chose this place to live the rest of her life.

The local population proved very welcoming or at the very least, no one opposed her passage. Nor did anyone question the presence of a plegian dark mage in the region, nor did they question her on her past. As it turned out, she was not the first 'refugee' fleeing or deserting the war. Here, she had met a fair number of both ylisseans and plegians, all fleeing the war and none trying to stop her.

However, unlike most refugee, it was not the war or the that she fled, nor was it her life that she had been attempting to save. In fact, she had been hiding this reason in an object hidden under a thick cloth that she always held close to her body.

Finally, after a week of travel, she was able to settle down in an old abandoned hut, in the outskirt of the most isolated village she could find. Only then did she allow herself to release the object.

Letting go of the cloth that enveloped it, she carefully set down the orb on a table. In the rush of her escape, she could not rigorously inspect it for any anomaly and after a quick check up it was clear that the being inside ad endured the travel albeit visibly exhausted from the rationing that he endured for the past week, being only partially fed by the blood she gave to him.

Deciding that he had been starved for long enough, murmuring the incantation that allowed her to do so, she opened the orb. At last, after nearly one year of living in it, the small dragon was free. And as his first action, he immediately set to tear into the piece of meat that had been place in front of him, causing his caretaker to chuckle.

There she was, watching as he who was to become one of the most powerful and feared creatures of the world was struggling to fit as much food as possible in his mouth making little high-pitched noises akin to an infant bird.

« You need a name, little one. » The sound of her voice caused him to stop and look back at her quizzically, head tilted and six eyes blinking.

« Let's see, you just hatched from your egg and immediately get fed and by me, and while i am not your mother, i am more than happy to take care of you. » She laughed at the last bit, eliciting more confusion from the baby fell dragon.

« You act just like a bird, so i'll call you… » She leaned over the table, smiling brightly at him
« Robin ! »