It was quiet, deathly quiet. Not a sound could be heard except for the clinks of armor as the party of knights moved through the village. The air was thick with smoke, the ground was soaked in blood. Everywhere they looked, devastation stared back.

This sight was not uncommon for the knights, but it still hit as hard as every other. "Do you think anyone survived?" was asked by one of the knights. No one responded, horror struck by their surroundings. "Alright, spread out. Search every building that is still standing. There may still be survivors, but be on your guard, the blasted things may still be here." With an affirmation, the knights spread out, searching for anyone who might have survived.

All of them were on edge, watching the shadows for any movement that might reveal their most feared foes. Most of the buildings in the town were gone. The few that were standing were badly damaged. The knights looked through them all, yet all they could find were the remnants of the creatures' bloody feast.

One knight was standing in the courtyard, looking at the destruction around him when he was approached by his colleague.

"Sightseeing?"

"No, just taking it all in."

Such commentary was commonly used to help cope with some of the harder parts of their job. "If only we got here sooner, perhaps we could have done something." The first knight looked down, clenching his fist in frustration. His friend put his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, this isn't anyone's fault, those things came out of nowhere. But I know what you mean."

They continued to talk until a noise interrupted them. The two drew their swords, instincts and years of training controlling their movements as they prepared for a fight. For a moment, they thought their ears were playing tricks on them, until they heard the sound again. They looked to see where it was coming from and saw one of the least damaged houses in the village. The sound came again, this time louder and much more clear. It was a high pitched wail, but still unidentified.

The first knight made his way into the house, sword drawn and ready to fight. The house was remarkably intact on the outside, but the inside was another story. The carpet was ripped up, the furniture tossed around. The walls had deep claw marks and blood pooled everywhere, clear signs of a struggle.

He heard the sound again. This time, he knew what it was. The cry of a baby. The knight walked into the hallway to see a man lying on his front, a kitchen knife right next to him. The knight checked his pulse only to find none. The cry sounded off again, coming from the room at the end of the hall. He walked down and went in. The room was clearly that of a child. Everything from the walls to the pictures was meant for kids. The knight looked into the back corner and saw the body of a young woman draped over a crib, as if she had fallen on it as she died.

The knight gently moved her body off of the crib and saw a young child, no older than six months inside. Upset, but very much alive. The baby was male, with white skin and auburn hair, and he wore a pendant around his neck. The knight stared in shock, wondering how this child had survived. The knight reached gently into the crib and lifted the baby out of his crib and carried him out of the house, whispering reassurances the entire time.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah, found him in one of the standing buildings, the parents didn't make it."

The other knights came together to report their findings, the baby being the only survivor. "So what are we going to do with him? We can't just leave him here." The knights did not want to abandon the kid, but they didn't know what to do. "My town has an orphanage. I can take him there and help look after him." The knight that found him volunteered. "Do you know what to call him?" a female knight asked.

"Yeah."

The first knight lifted up the baby's pendant, written on it was a name.

Gale Morrigan.