Celestial Gambit

After Victoria's engagement ceremony concluded, Meredith wandered through the palace gardens, a quiet escape from the crowd.

There, she found Byron who was chatting with a few advisors near a marble fountain. Catching sight of Meredith, he dismissed the others with a wave and approached her.

"Enjoying the festivities, Your Highness?" he asked with a slight bow.

"Oh, you know me," Meredith replied with a smirk. "I prefer action over politics. Speaking of action, have you made any progress on that project of yours—the one to help humans combat dragons in the sky?"

"The aerial device progresses, Your Highness. Our engineers face challenges, but with strategic collaboration, we will prevail. Stability remains a concern. Perhaps a King Bat's wings could provide a solution..." He paused, gauging her reaction. "A thought for our tactical advantage."

Meredith took a mental note of Byron's hint, her curiosity piqued by his mention of the King Bat's wings. She knew Byron well enough to recognize when he was dropping subtle requests, especially when he spoke so wistfully about his "contraption."

As reckless as she could be, she appreciated the thrill of a challenge, and she silently vowed to bring him exactly what he needed.

Byron leaned back, his gaze intense and contemplative, a spark of intrigue in his eyes. "On the topic of strategy and understanding our allies as well as our adversaries," he began, his tone both firm and thoughtful, "I've tasked Arthur with a deep study on the angels. Knowledge can often be our strongest ally, especially in times like these."

From behind Byron, a young man stepped forward—slender, with an attentive gaze and a stack of notes clasped in his hands. He had matured since Meredith had last seen him, now carrying himself with a quiet intensity that matched Byron's confidence.

"Your Highness," Arthur greeted her with a respectful nod. "It's good to see you again."

"Arthur," she replied warmly. "I hear you've been working on uncovering the mysteries of our celestial neighbors. What have you found?"

Arthur glanced at Byron, who nodded slightly, a subtle encouragement to continue.

"I've been studying as much as I can—texts, first-hand accounts, and any reliable source on the angels' nature. My understanding is still limited, but I think I'm close to unraveling a few of their mysteries. We know Lord Elyon was once an angel before his ascension, and the others follow him with loyalty, but there's still much we don't know. From what I gather, angels are immensely powerful, and it appears they're bound to serve a purpose."

Meredith's curiosity deepened. "Bound to a purpose… and yet they can die. I've heard tales of them self-destructing in battle. Is that true?"

Arthur nodded, his tone serious. "Yes. It's said that in moments of extreme conflict, angels can unleash their divine energy in a final, devastating act. Almost like an instinctual release, though it's hard to confirm. And, even strangers—they can 'fall.' Some legends say that angels who stray from their purpose lose their divinity, condemned to live as mortals. Imagine that—an angel stripped of its celestial nature and made to live among us."

Meredith reflected on this, her tone thoughtful. "If they're capable of such intense acts—sacrificing themselves, or even falling—it suggests they're more complex than we think. Do they have lives beyond duty, like we do? Families, connections?"

Arthur hesitated, then shook his head. "If they do, it's kept from us. From what I've gathered, angels seem to live solely for purpose and power. Yet, their capacity for intense actions—whether self-sacrifice or defying their roles—implies they may be more conflicted than we realize."

Byron, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke, his voice low and contemplative. "It's important we understand our allies, especially those as powerful as the angels. Knowing more about what drives them, and what risks they're willing to take, could help us make decisions that will keep our people safe."

After the engagement festivities concluded, Meredith and Fresia slipped away from the palace to enjoy a hunt, as they often did when life at court became too stifling.

Their target today was a rare specimen from the King Bat species—a massive, elusive creature that Byron needed.

They rode deep into the mountains, where the canopy grew denser and the trails grew more treacherous, allowing only narrow beams of sunlight to pierce the shadowed undergrowth. Higher they climbed, the mountain air whipping at their faces, the world expanding beneath them.

Meredith chose the hardest path deliberately, guiding her horse through tangled roots and rocky terrain, ignoring the easier trail that Fresia pointed out more than once.

"Your Highness?" Fresia's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Is this the only path we can take? I... I'm just a little concerned."

"Where's the fun in an easier path?" Meredith replied, flashing her a mischievous grin. "You know I live for a challenge," She winked.

The thrill of the hunt invigorated Meredith as they continued deeper, her senses sharpened and her focus unwavering. Finally, she caught sight of her target—a massive King Bat gliding low along the mountainside, its wings casting eerie, shifting shadows across the rugged terrain.

The King Bat was a creature nearly twice the size of a human, with leathery, dark wings that spanned as wide as a dragon's. Its sleek, shadowy form cut through the air with a menacing grace, its piercing yellow eyes scanning for any threat. Meredith's pulse quickened at the sight, excitement and challenge blending as she fixed her focus on the beast.

"Got you now," she whispered, drawing her bow with practiced precision.

She released her arrow, aiming for the creature's heart. The arrow struck true—but just shy of its mark, embedding itself off-center.

The King Bat screeched, faltering mid-flight, but it kept going, determined to escape. Without hesitation, Meredith sprang into action, leaping from her position onto the creature's massive back, grabbing hold of its coarse fur as she pulled out her dagger to finish the kill.

The King Bat bucked and twisted in a desperate attempt to shake her off, its powerful wings flapping wildly as it struggled.

Holding tightly, Meredith braced herself against the creature's erratic movements and drove her dagger deep, finding its heart. With one last, shrill cry, the King Bat went limp, its wings folding as it began to plummet toward the forest floor below.

Meredith, still clinging to its back, felt the sharp pull of gravity as they both fell. Wind tore past her, the forest floor rushing up to meet her far faster than she'd anticipated.

She couldn't suppress a half-laugh, half-command as she shouted, "Fresia, come get me!"

"Your Highness!" Fresia's voice echoed through the rush of air.

Without hesitation, Fresia dove after her, closing the distance swiftly. As they fell, Fresia wrapped her arms around Meredith, pulling her close.

Her magical shield activated with a soft, pink glow, cushioning them both as they plummeted, and Meredith felt the rush of wind slow, petals swirling around them. She gripped Fresia tightly, her pulse racing, but something unexpected stirred in her mind.

The free-fall, the comforting warmth of Fresia's embrace, the feeling of safety in the midst of chaos—it all felt strangely familiar, like a memory hidden deep in her mind.

A flash of a scene played before her eyes: she was a small child, perhaps no older than six, tumbling through the sky, her tiny form flailing helplessly.

But she hadn't been alone. She remembered the powerful embrace of strong arms wrapping around her, shielding her as they descended, and the soft, protective expanse of white wings enveloping her.

She could almost see a calm, reassuring gaze, and feel the steady presence that guided her through the fear, as if a quiet, unwavering voice was reminding her to hold on.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, and Meredith blinked, trying to grasp it before it slipped away completely. It felt as if a piece of her past was calling to her, a memory long buried but somehow woven into this moment with Fresia.

They landed softly on the forest floor, the shield dispersing in a cascade of rose petals as they touched down. Meredith steadied herself, still dazed by the memory, her mind racing.

Fresia let go, looking at her with exasperation and worry. "Princess, one day you'll get yourself killed with these stunts. What were you thinking, jumping onto that creature?"

Meredith's dazed expression softened into a slight smile as she looked at Fresia, feeling both grateful and a little humbled. "Maybe I wasn't thinking," she admitted, a hint of laughter in her voice. "But I knew you'd be there to catch me."

Fresia's cheeks flushed, but she maintained her composure. "One day, I might not be there in time. You need to be more careful."

Meredith gave a mock sigh. "Fine, fine. I'll be careful." She winked, making Fresia shake her head, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

With the King Bat secured, they prepared to return to the palace. Just before they parted ways, Fresia turned to Meredith with a gentle reminder.

"Your Highness," Fresia began softly. "Just a reminder… My sister's wedding is tomorrow. I'd be honored if you could attend. And, if it pleases you, perhaps something… fitting for the occasion?" She offered a small smile. "Fiona, my temporary replacement, will be there to help you prepare, as I'll be busy with the final preparations for my sister."

Meredith smiled, then she nodded. "Alright, alright. But only because you asked so nicely."

The wedding was held in a popular, public garden, which had been transformed into a fairytale of blossoms and lights. Lanterns hung like stars from tree branches, casting a warm glow across the gathering as laughter and music filled the air.

The scent of blooming roses and orange blossoms mingled with the aroma of the feast prepared in honor of the bride and groom.

Meredith was among the first to arrive, her silk gown shimmering in the golden light, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves.

But her attention was soon captured by Fresia, her cheeks flushed with happiness for her sister's special day.

Fresia had always been a quiet presence, but tonight she glowed with an uncommon joy, her usual reserve softened by the love she felt for her family and the excitement of the celebration.

"Look at you, Fresia," Meredith teased as they watched the guests gather. "Who would have thought my dear, reserved handmaiden would ever look this radiant?"

Fresia blushed, glancing down shyly as she smoothed the delicate lace of her dress. "It's my sister's wedding," she replied with a gentle smile. "How could I not be happy?"

Meredith grinned, nudging her playfully. "Well, you're glowing like it's your wedding day."

Fresia gasped, her eyes wide. "Your Highness!"

Meredith laughed, a sound that carried over the gentle strains of the musicians.

Their gazes held for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Meredith smiled and pulled her into a gentle hug, earning a few raised eyebrows from nearby guests who weren't accustomed to seeing such warmth between royal and servant.

The ceremony itself was beautiful—a union blessed by the heavens, with vows spoken under an arch of lilies and ivy.

The bride and groom clasped hands, gazing into each other's eyes with a reverence that silenced the crowd. Their voices were soft but steady, carrying the weight of promises that bound them beyond this life.

The groom began, his voice solemn.

Ego te accipio, ut carissimum et aeternum consortem. In tenebris et in luce, te sequar et te servabo.

I take you as my beloved and eternal companion. In darkness and in light, I will follow you and protect you.

The bride replied, her voice unwavering.

Amore et fide, anima mea tua erit, et tua, mea. Promitto tecum manere, usque ad finem temporum, meum cor et spiritus tibi tradita.

With love and loyalty, my soul will be yours, and yours, mine. I promise to remain with you until the end of time, my heart and spirit given to you.

Meredith felt a pang of emotion as she watched the couple exchange their promises, imagining what such a future might hold for her one day.

As the night wore on, the formalities melted into the liveliness of the reception. Guests filled their goblets with wine, the laughter grew louder, and the air was filled with joy and celebration.

At one point, a figure in simple boy's clothing and a finely crafted mask approached Fresia.

She blinked, surprised, before recognizing the playful gleam in the figure's eyes—it was Meredith, disguised as a common young man.

The mask, carved elegantly from ivory with delicate patterns etched along the edges, obscured Meredith's face, casting her features in shadow while leaving her eyes visible.

It was both mysterious and mischievous—an effective disguise to ensure that the princess didn't sully her image by appearing as anything other than the graceful figure expected of her.

"Y-Your Highness?" Fresia managed, caught off guard by Meredith's unexpected appearance.

Meredith grinned beneath the mask, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "Fresia—be my partner for a dance?" She extended her hand with a gentle, teasing bow, her gaze inviting and daring, as if this were their own private adventure.

Despite her bashful protests, Fresia found herself taking Meredith's hand. Meredith guided her to the center of the garden, where other couples were already twirling under the soft glow of lanterns.

Fresia kept her eyes lowered, nervously watching her own steps, but Meredith's laughter soon broke through her reservations. Before long, she found herself smiling as Meredith spun her gracefully, her natural poise beginning to emerge as they moved to the music.

For that brief moment, they danced together, laughing and carefree, as if the weight of their titles and responsibilities had faded away, leaving only the joy of the moment and the thrill of shared, playful rebellion.

As the days of celebration drew to a close, an unsettling tension began to weave through Pyria. News of frequent border skirmishes trickled in, no longer isolated incidents but a pattern of persistent attacks that tested Pyria's defenses.

Soldiers returned from the field with grim faces, speaking of Stormgard's renewed aggression, and the once-vibrant capital grew watchful and cautious. Nobles exchanged worried whispers, their laughter at feasts dimming as they braced for what felt like the calm before the storm.

Then came the rumors—whispers of assassins slipping past Pyria's defenses, their shadows haunting the city's alleys and narrow streets.

These tales spread rapidly, creating an atmosphere of fear and suspicion. Noble families tightened their guards and even courtiers spoke in hushed tones, careful of who might be listening.

Meredith felt the shift, the weight of an invisible threat pressing down on her people. She carried on with her duties, offering reassurance and calm, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that danger was drawing closer.

One night, that threat became real.

As Meredith lay in her chambers, a sudden, powerful presence appeared.

The ethereal being descended with silent precision, his luminous wings folding seamlessly against his back as he stepped into her chamber.

The window, once securely latched, now hung ajar, the faint shimmer of magic clinging to its edges as though the air had been compelled to grant him passage.

He stood before her, his presence a blend of radiance and calm. His hair, a deep, warm brown, framed his face with effortless elegance, each strand softening the sharp contours of his chiseled features.

Draped in a simple white robe that fell perfectly over his lean, muscular frame, he seemed both out of place and entirely fitting—a figure carved from the heavens yet standing before her as if summoned by destiny itself.

His golden gaze locked onto hers, carrying an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver through her. It was a look that seemed to pierce through the veil of time, as though he saw more in her than even she understood.

She had never seen anything so beautiful before.

Mesmerized by the sight before her, Meredith's mind went blank, every coherent thought dissolving as she took in the angel's beauty.

She barely registered his touch as he lifted her into his arms, each movement as smooth and effortless as a dream.

In that moment, all thoughts of escape and defiance faded; she surrendered completely to the surreal, intoxicating sensation of being in his presence, a willing passenger in his embrace as he carried her away.

As the spellbinding effect faded and her senses returned, Meredith felt a surge of defiance rising within her.

"Who are you?" she asked, "Where are you taking me?" Her voice trembled slightly.

She studied him closely, her gaze sharp, seeking any sign of vulnerability in his cool, unyielding face.

The angel regarded her in silence, his expression unreadable. He simply stared back as though her question hadn't penetrated at all.

Instinctively, she wanted to fight, to claw her way free from his grasp, to kick and struggle until he released her.

But even in her panic, the truth settled heavy within her—no mere human could overpower an angel.

His arms, though gentle, held an unyielding strength, and his wings cut through the air with a precision that seemed almost effortless.

She was outmatched. Any resistance would be and she knew it. For now, all she could do was grit her teeth, gather her wits, and bide her time.

He then had set her down in an underground cave, its walls rough and cold, the only light coming from a narrow crack above that let in a faint, silvery glow.

She had stood there, bewildered and silent, as he turned and disappeared into the shadows without so much as a glance back. Alone in the quiet darkness, the reality of her imprisonment sank in, a chill creeping into her bones.