Note: This is inspired by the Future of Despair DLC.


She knew that he wasn't her real father.

She knew that she didn't even belong in this time period.

But he looked like her father, he sounded like her father; and every now and then, he'd exhibit some idiosyncracity or make some small remark that only her father would have made. And with most of her memories missing in action, Morgan wasn't particularly picky.

It would be a lie to say that she had never heard of the Fell Dragon. She had, in a vague legend that she had once skimmed through as a small child. In her world, the whole dark dragon idea didn't seem to be more than a fairy tale. Heck, she wasn't even aware that the dragon even had a name.

And yet, here was the very Fell Dragon that she had equated to nothing more than a moment of amusement. Her moment of amusement that was burning the world. It had been quite a fright when she exited the temple where she awoke only to be greeted by the end product of a battlefield.

Remembering her father's advice, Morgan had tried to gather as much information on her surroundings as possible. It was like she had missed some great turning point in history. It was the strangest political atmosphere she had ever seen in her life. Whatever semblance of government or even puppet governments, were completely dictated by Plegia. Valm was in utter shambles, they hadn't stood a chance after the passing of their Conquerer. Regna Ferox had been greviously punished for their rebellion as well. Ylisse put up a strong front of defiance, but even Morgan could see that the country was on its knees.

It wasn't really even politics anymore, everything was dictated by the Fell Dragon's will. If he felt like wiping a city off the map then the city was gone, completely removed from any sort of negotiation or reorganization attempt that could have occured. It was like it never even existed.

Morgan never liked the sight of corpses, she never even liked fighting. She had studied magic simply because she had admired its principals, that and her father had made it look so flashy. She had studied the sword because it looked stylish, or rather her father had made it look stylish for her. Without any knowledge of any friends she had or even her mother, her father was the center of her world. So she bit her lip and turned away from the dead bodies of soldiers who were too young and inexperienced to be on the battlefield, and headed towards the Dragon's Table. She turned away from the humans who were running for their lives. She turned from the remnants of countries who were desperately trying to fight back. She turned and headed for the Fell Dragon.

Morgan was delighted just to get to the Table's door without being evaporated by a lightning strike. Perhaps it was the fact that she was alone and didn't exactly cut an impressive figure in the wasteland, that had probably saved her life. Unsure of what to do next, she had done the only thing that she could think of: she knocked on the door. She was even more surprised to find that the Table was mostly empty, and she could barely believe her eyes when its only inhabitant met her in person.

"Do you have a death wish?"

Perhaps that was how people said hello in this time period.

The Fell Dragon must have thought that she was crazy, Morgan didn't blame him. She had taken a deep breath and blurted out everything as fast as she could, praying that she was speaking faster than he could strike her down. Once the words started coming out, they didn't stop. She spoke of her loss of memories, how she had awoken with no idea where she was, how she suspected that she had come from a different time. She had hesitated slightly on the father bit, and when she finally got it out, she taped on a stream of justifications and clarifications.

"But I just want to serve you, even if you only see me as a tool. My father is the only person that I can remember, and you look like how he must have when he was younger. I've been alone for so long, ever since I've come to this time. I don't even remember the face of my mother or any siblings I might have had. So please, don't send me away. I'll do anything you ask. Just don't leave me alone anymore."

That seemed to have struck a chord. Morgan swore that she saw his eyes flicker a little as an emotion-it flew by too fast for her to identify it-flashed through his impassive mask. But then his expression hardened again.

"You do realize how your words must sound to me."

She had nodded furiously, "I know, I sound crazy. But I can fight; I know magic and swordplay and some tactics. You don't have to believe anything I say, you can think I'm a raving lunatic, I'm fine with that."

There was a very long pause, where he looked off to the side in contemplation. It was a tiny gesture that reminded her so much of her father that Morgan wanted to cry. She stood quietly and didn't dare speak. For just a moment, she became aware of how vulnerable she was. If the Fell Dragon decided to kill her now, he could probably snap her neck with a slight flick of his wrist.

"I don't believe you." he finally said.

Morgan could feel her heart sink, as if she had been suddenly tossed into the middle of a freezing lake. Her knees began to feel weak, threatening to buckle under her. She ducked her head, waiting for a killing blow.

"Force me."

Her head snapped up, "What...what did you say?"

"Force me to believe you." he repeated, "If you're really telling the truth, if you truly want to be by my side so strongly; find a way to force me. Convince me of your loyalty, convince me that I should believe such a ludacris story."

And so she stayed. From that day on, any squeamishness Morgan had seemed to have evaporated. She no longer hesitated when casting a spell, she didn't flinch away at the sight of dead bodies, she felt nothing beyond a slight sympathy when she tore a path through a crowd of soldiers. She was able to look into the eyes of the ones she killed, that brief moment of connectivity never vanished, but now she had a reason to do these things.

She must have driven the Fell Dragon insane with her odd quirks for the first few weeks. She hadn't expected to feel quite so happy or relieved as she had. After all, she was still living in a world that was crumbling before her eyes, and she was aiding in all that destruction. But Morgan had felt almost entirely like herself a few minutes after their first conversation.

"Hey, Father."

"Hm?"

She hadn't meant to call him Father, it just sort of slipped out when she wasn't concentrating hard enough. At first, he had narrowed his eyes at the title but after a couple of times, he either accepted it or chose to ignore it.

"You've been standing up here for hours." Morgan bowed her head a little against the wind that whipping up on the Dragon Table's roof top, "You must be thinking of something important. Can I lend an ear?"

"There was one thing that I was thinking of. Though it's more of a whim than a requirement."

Every now and then, Morgan would become aware of how weird it was to call the Fell Dragon "Father". In this world, he appeared to be much younger than in her time, he didn't look older than his late teens. That would made him aesthetically only a few years older than Morgan, he wasn't even that much taller than her. But that didn't stop the rush of familial affection that rose up in her. She didn't know if he felt the same-she wasn't going to bother with the details-but he certaintly seemed to have grown accustomed to her presence over the days. After all, if he completely detested her, she probably wouldn't be alive at the moment.

"I'm not sure if you've realized it, but your whims kind of are requirements." Morgan joked hesitantly; she stifled a flinch, hoping that she hadn't just pushed her luck.

Then, in a moment that for anyone else would have been only a brief moment of happiness, something happened that awokened an absolute joy within her. The Fell Dragon hesitantly raised his hand and put it on her head, an act of parental endearment.

"Perhaps so, but it wouldn't do to act completely on one's whims."

It took a moment for Morgan to find her voice again, "So? What were you thinking of?"

"I'd like to get rid of Grimleal."

"Really?" Morgan tilted her head, "Are you going to kill them all?"

Even she was appalled by how easily she suggested such an action.

"I don't have allies very often, especially not for the last few thousand years. It simply wouldn't do to attack them, even if their ideology doubled my misfortunes." he shook his head, "Besides, there's something more important that needs to get done first."

"Do tell." Morgan edged closer.

"I believe it's finally time to get rid of Naga. She's got a replacement lined up, an oracle by the name of Tiki, I've even met the girl a long time ago. But I would still like to kill that divine witch with my own hands."

"Can I come?" Morgan asked earnestly.

"No."

"Why?"

The word came out with such a childish indignation, almost as if he had said that she couldn't go out with a particular boy or had asked her to avoid a certain part of town.

"Naga might still have some sort of trick up her sleeve." the Fell Dragon raised an eyebrow at Morgan's protest, "She's caused me so much grief, I might as well assume that she's completely invulnerable."

"Please let me come!" Morgan insisted, "I don't want to wait here by myself, I'll go crazy with worry."

"Worry?"

"I'm paranoid, alright? Please let me come."

The Fell Dragon shut his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. Morgan felt her shoulders droop, she really had no right to demand such a thing, she was a subordinate after all.

"Alright."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-wait, I can come?"

"Yes, just stay behind me. And if I lose sight of you even once, I'm never taking you anywhere ever again."

The dragon body of the Fell Dragon was horrifying, the stuff of nightmares. Morgan was initially terrified of the creature, but now, she could ride on it without batting an eyelash. She had asked about it once and the Fell Dragon had explained that it wasn't his original appearance. He had changed it to reflect the things that were expected of him. Even now, she couldn't quite imagine what sort of feeling would cause someone to mutilate their appearance to such a state.

The Fell Dragon remained mostly silent for the journey, while Morgan chattered of what little memory she had. Every now and then he would nod or say something along the lines of "that makes sense" or "of course it did", to remind her that he was listening even if he wasn't looking at her.

"Hey, Dad?"

"What is it?"

"If you had the choice, how long would you give yourself to live?"

The Fell Dragon blinked, then turned towards her, "What sparked such a question?"

"I'm just curious." Morgan said, "I mean, manakete live so long. You're not exactly a manakete anymore, but you're still going to have ages ahead of you, right? So if you had the choice, how long would you live?"

The tiniest semblance of a smirk tugged at the Fell Dragon's mouth, "I wouldn't choose forever, if that's what you're asking. Let me think...I'd give myself a thousand years."

"Why a thousand?" Morgan continued, "You've lived way longer than that, I mean you've spent that much time just sleeping. That's like a year or two in human years."

"Time is relative, Morgan. When you're a small child, life is simple, if not easy. And then life gets more difficult as you age until a certain point when you're about my age-in human years-and then life begins to get easier again as you begin to recognize yourself for who you are. But then, what with the expectations of society, life gets difficult once more with the addition of a family, or even just the number of people you know. It doesn't necessarily get worse, but it definetly gets harder. I've spent a very long time alone, I had a different set of problems than the normal course of life. I've always thought that there would be a time when there would no longer be anything left that I wanted to see."

"But a thousand years isn't enough to see everything."

"Who said that I wanted to see everything? Believe it or not, manakete society is not that different from humans. Back when I was a child, I didn't think I had a particularly long life, not when everyone else had the longevity that I did. It was only after I came in contact with humans, that I noticed anything peculiar about my species."

"I bet we ruined everything, huh?" Morgan grumbled.

"Not quite." the Fell Dragon assured her, "Humans have a remarkable ability to progress at lightning speed, at least compared to manakete. The elder manakete were so grounded in tradition that I had to study magic in secret."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, have you ever seen a manakete who uses magic? It's not traditional, I dare say that it's not normal. But I liked magic, I liked human tools, some of my fondest childhood memories consist of toying with spellbooks. Perfection is something that can't be achieved, not by humans, not by manakete."

"So you don't hate humans?" Morgan asked.

"No, just Naga and her followers."

Suddenly, a sort of otherworldly shriek shattered the air like glass. The head of the dragon rose up, a massive sphere of dark magic gathering in its jaws. Morgan peered over the edge of its wing, they were passing over a town.

"A Ylissian stronghold." the Fell Dragon said softly, "They must have been getting complacent during the last month of inactivity."

A minute later, all that remained of the town and its inhabitants was a crater.

Naga's temple still held signs of once being a beautiful oasis. The world was not truly as gray as Morgan initially imagined it to be. Despite the chaos and debris left over by countless battles, no one had gone out of their way to burn down the plant life. Still, she had heard that Naga's domain had once held the title of enchanted, a dream like beauty that had to be seen to be believed. But now, with its mistress' power fast fading, the temple was turning to decay.

"Remember your promise to me." the Fell Dragon said.

"Right, stay behind you and stay in sight."

The way the Fell Dragon strolled leisurely into the temple was a violation of every form of strategy that Morgan can think of. But in the end, it didn't matter. The guards who were still holding out were easily vaporized by a flick of his hand, or a quick side glance. Morgan stayed out of range of the...well, it couldn't really be called fighting, as she promised, but she couldn't help but watch with fascination. She had never seen such powerful and intricate magic.

The Divine Dragon Naga still looked majestic in her throne, despite barely having the strength to sit up. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, somewhat hiding her weakening posture.

The Fell Dragon wasted no time with overtures or spiteful speechess. He walked straight up to the Divine Dragon, and reached out his hand.

"You know what's strange? We use to be the best of friends." Morgan didn't know whether he was talking her or to Naga.

"You won't succeed." the words sounded like a breeze, it took Morgan a moment to realize that it was Naga who spoke.

The Divine Dragon painfully raised her head to glare at the Fell Dragon with dull eyes, "I have prepared for this."

"Have you?" the reply sounded relaxed, almost dismissive, "But like I said, we use to be friends. Morgan, how do you think I should kill her? Should I make it quick, or let her suffer a bit?"

Morgan was watching the scene with such focus that she couldn't answer right away. Here was the woman who had caused her father so much trouble. But Naga looked so pathetic, like a broken doll, that Morgan couldn't help but feel a little bit of sympathy.

"Quick." she finally said.

"You're right. It's never wrong to be pragmatic."

The Fell Dragon bent down to Naga's level and locked his hand around her throat.

One quick move, one sharp snap, and the Divine Dragon was dead.

The two of them walked out of the temple with no opposition. The Fell Dragon stepped onto his dragon form first, then offered his hand to Morgan. She took hold of it and hoisted herself up.

As they flew back, she didn't see the destroyed homes or the broken weapons that littered the grass. She didn't even see the hollow armor of what use to be people.

In her memories, her world only consisted of two people.

Morgan and Father.


AN: I've wanted to write this for a long time. In the Future of Despair DLC, Morgan is a boss. Makes you wonder how the poor girl felt when she could only remember one person in her life. It must have been quite powerful considering that she willingly went to serve the Fell Dragon.