Celestial Gambit

The dense forest opened up as Meredith stumbled onto a trail, her eyes catching sight of the familiar figures of Pyria's search party.

She saw Fresia first, her loyal handmaiden whose face lit up with relief. The others—guards, courtiers, and a few rugged soldiers—looked equally stunned to see her emerge from the wilderness unscathed.

"Your Highness!" Fresia cried, hurrying over and wrapping Meredith in a tight embrace—a rare breach of protocol that Meredith accepted with a smile.

"We were so worried!" Fresia's voice shook slightly as she pulled back, searching Meredith's face. "You were missing for WEEKS! We thought… I thought…" Fresia trailed off, struggling to find the words.

She glanced at Fresia with a casual shrug. "I was safe enough, Fresia. An angel kidnapped me, and after a bit of begging, he agreed to teach me a few things about combat, gave me some cryptic warnings, and then just… let me go. You know, the usual surreal, inexplicable stuff." She waved her hand dismissively, as if this were just another day in the life of a princess.

"..."

Meredith stepped back, her thoughts shifted to an enigmatic, exceptionally handsome winged being in simple white attire. His behavior stoic, his golden eyes shimmered with indifference.

Gabriel was certainly cold in the beginning, but I think we shared a connection when we parted, Meredith thought to herself.

A small, smug smile tugged at her lips as she replayed their last moments together. Surely, he must have seen something in her—her strength, her wit, her charm. Perhaps, she mused, she had even managed to leave an impression on the angel, one he wouldn't soon forget.

The thought filled her with a quiet sense of triumph, though she couldn't quite shake the image of his expressionless face as he'd flown away without a word.

However, should I excuse him for abandoning me in the forest? Is this typical angel behavior? How do angels really think of us, mortals? She then resumed bitterly.

"Honestly, given the current chaotic situation, I feel like I should be used to this sort of thing by now. Abducted by a celestial being, trained in the middle of nowhere, and then unceremoniously freed back into the kingdom." She gave a half-hearted smirk. "It's practically a royal pastime."

"Right," Fresia said finally, her voice strained. "That must be it." With her face still displaying confusion, she softly replied, "I'm just glad you're safe."

With a firm grip, Meredith held Fresia's hand, expressing her gratitude for having such a dependable, loyal, and caring friend, unlike a certain celestial being. "Thank you," she said, her voice filled with appreciation.

---

The group escorted Meredith back to the kingdom, her thoughts distant as they navigated the winding paths.

As Meredith and her companions journeyed back, they couldn't help but notice the path strewn with remnants of a recent battle. Weary Pyria's soldiers, their faces etched with exhaustion, crossed their paths. The villagers they encountered appeared disheartened, their expressions sullen.

So, Stormgard has infiltrated us here as well. Meredith's forehead creased into a frown.

By the time they reached the castle gates, it was dusk, and the air carried a somber chill.

Upon entering the main hall, Meredith was immediately struck by the bustling energy surrounding her. Courtiers and advisors moved quickly between groups, their faces etched with worry as they exchanged urgent whispers. Messengers darted in and out of the hall, bearing scrolls and reports, while guards stood at attention, their stances rigid and eyes sharp.

A map of the kingdom lay spread across a large table at the center, surrounded by commanders and strategists gesturing emphatically over territories marked in red ink. From afar, Meredith noticed Byron's disheveled appearance, as if he had not slept in days.

At the far end, Victoria crossed the floor toward Meredith with her usual dignified grace, but her expression was unusually tense. Around them, the air was thick with the weight of decision-making and the seriousness of impending conflict.

"Meredith!" Victoria's eyes widened, rushing toward her with an uncharacteristic urgency. "What happened to you? Tell me everything!"

She looked her sister up and down, relief mixed with bewilderment. "You look healthy, but why did you disappear for weeks? We've been worried sick for you!"

Meredith couldn't help but give a faint smile at Victoria's unguarded reaction, but the concern in her sister's eyes reminded her of the gravity of the situation. "It's complicated," she started, unsure how to explain everything.

Victoria's gaze remained fixed, a flicker of impatience in her eyes. "Complicated? Meredith, we thought we'd lost you! The King and Queen haven't slept well, they accused Stormgard for kidnapping you, but they denied it. I've been trying to keep everyone calm without knowing if you were safe or—" She stopped, taking a steadying breath. "Just start from the beginning. What happened?"

Meredith hesitated, then gave a half-smile, thinking of the surreal journey she'd been on. "Well, if you can believe it, it involves an angel kidnapping, combat lessons, and a few cryptic warnings," she said, trying to make it sound as casual as possible.

Victoria blinked, stunned. "An… angel? You're saying an angel took you?"

Meredith nodded, a touch of humor in her tone. "Yes, an angel. Kidnapped me, trained me a bit, then just let me go, it was all perfectly normal." Meredith began narrating her experience to Victoria, sharing every peculiar aspect of her journey from beginning to end. It dragged on endlessly, and Victoria found her mind wandering.

"Oh, and the survival lessons," Meredith continued with her chatter, oblivious to the growing awkwardness. "Do you know angels eat berries? I wouldn't have expected that. He made me pick them for hours. Hours! Said it was important for discipline." She gave an awkward laugh, gesturing vaguely. "I mean, they were good berries, but I'm still not sure what lesson I was supposed to learn."

Victoria's jaw dropped, caught between disbelief and worry. "Meredith, that's… I don't even know where to start." She shook her head, pulling her sister into a tight hug. "Whatever happened, we are just glad you're safe."

Meredith sighed, trying to brush it off. "It's been one ordeal after another, however in the end I was in good hands," she replied.

Her thoughts again drifted towards a specific angel with golden gaze, his ruby earrings swayed as he glided, the sound of their swords clashing. With a shake of her head, she jolted back to reality, her thoughts swiftly shifting to more urgent matters.

"You must be swamped by many things," Meredith said, glancing around the bustling hall. "With everything going on, I can only imagine what I've missed."

"Rest first, then we'll chat more," Victoria softly spoke, but her composure was fraying. "Things have grown worse. Our borders have been breached by Stormgard, and dragons continue to wreak havoc upon our lands. The people are terrified, Meredith—assassinations, kidnappings, people going missing."

Meredith turned away, feeling the weight of it pressing down on her. "I don't know how I can help, Victoria," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. The sheer scope of Pyria's troubles felt too vast, too overwhelming.

Victoria softened, uncrossing her arms and reaching out to gently touch Meredith's shoulder. "I know you're exhausted, and this is a lot to take in right now," she said, her tone empathetic. "We've been dealing with all this in your absence, and we'll figure it out together. But your presence—it means so much, not just to me, but to everyone. You don't have to have all the answers, Meredith, but we do need all the help we can get."

Relief mixed with guilt in Meredith's chest as she looked at her sister, grateful for the understanding. Just then, Byron, the head defense minister, approached, his expression grim, as if carrying yet another burden for them to bear.

"Your Highnesses," he greeted them, bowing slightly. "I have troubling news."

"What now?" Victoria asked, exasperated.

"Another report has come in of missing townsfolk," Byron replied. "But there's something unusual about this wave of disappearances. Every missing person has been marked."

A silence fell between them as Meredith absently touched her Thysia mark. It had burned like fire at times, a constant reminder of her connection to forces beyond her understanding.

"The marks," she murmured. "Why would someone be targeting those with marks?"

Byron shook his head. "That's what we need to understand. It's as if the mark draws some hidden threat, something even we don't fully comprehend."

Meredith shivered, a sense of dread creeping into her thoughts. She turned to Victoria, whose face, now drained of color, mirrored the growing unease.

---

After bidding farewell to Meredith, Gabriel embarked on a descent from the sky into a cavern. His pristine white wings carried him downward with effortless grace.

The twin angels, Raphael and Cassiel, were already present, surrounded by other familiar angelic faces. As Gabriel arrived, they greeted him with quiet nods, acknowledging his presence.

Amongst all, stood the angel Malachel, one of Lord Elyon's most formidable angels, aside from the twins. His long, flowing black hair contrasted sharply with his piercing golden eyes, and his facial expression mirrored the stoicism of the others, yet held a deeper coldness, perhaps a reflection of the many battles he had endured.

Malachel bore no signs of fatigue despite having just returned from a great battle. On the battlefield, his movements were swift and lethal, showing no mercy to his foes. In recent years, he had slain more dragons than any other, becoming renowned as a dragon-slayer. His blade was already drawn in the cave.

Another angel stood in front of them with short white hair stained with blood of an unknown source. His face, while handsome, bore a stern expression. His golden eyes, despite his stern demeanor, betrayed a hint of panic.

Behind him lay a dragon approximately the size of a human, its bluish-gray scales bearing the evidence of severe injuries. Despite its wounds, the dragon managed to let out weak hisses.

Cassiel traced a glowing symbol in the air with his fingertip. The symbol hovered for a moment before shooting toward Gabriel, embedding itself in his mind and releasing the telepathic flashback to bring him up to speed quickly.

Adriel, the angel with white hair, was revealed to be harboring a dragon, a creature he was tasked with slaying long ago. Instead of carrying out his duty, Adriel surprisingly developed a deep attachment to the dragon, going beyond mere affection and choosing to keep it alive.

"This displeases the Lord," Cassiel declared, his gaze hard and fixed on Adriel. "Elyon's laws are absolute."

Gabriel's stoic expression remained unchanged, but a flicker of unease stirred within him. Harboring a dragon was a dangerous act, and one that would not go unpunished. While Elyon's laws permitted angels to engage with dragons, it was imperative that they discard them afterward, a rule designed to prevent any lasting bond.

A dark presence stirred in the room, and Gabriel turned to see Malachel stepping forward, a sinister gleam in his eye. Malachel's smirk was laced with a cruel satisfaction, his gaze lingering on Adriel as if sensing his discomfort.

"So, another angel has fallen for the charms of a dragon," Malachel sneered, his voice a mix of scorn and twisted pride. "May we remind you, Adriel. Dragons are meant to be…enjoyed for pleasure," Malachel smirked, his voice laced with meanings comprehensible only to angels, "... then swiftly conquered, nothing more. If an angel gives in to his baser instincts, then the only true mercy is to kill them afterward."

With a hardened gaze and disturbingly matter-of-fact tone, Malachel reiterated, "Mercy lies in ending them."

Immediately after concluding his speech, he swiftly brandished his sword again and engaged Adriel in a lightning-fast duel. The clashing of their blades echoed throughout the chamber.

Shortly after, Raphael intervened to defuse the situation. With a swift motion, he interposed his sword between the two combatants, forcefully sending both Malachel and Adriel back with a gust of air.

Silence enveloped the cave. Gabriel observed Raphael intently, attempting to decipher his thoughts. However, Raphael's face remained inscrutable, revealing nothing.

Cassiel stepped forward, asserting his authority. "It is evident that Adriel understands the actions required. Let's entrust him with the responsibility and provide him with the freedom to execute them. We shall gather once more to finalize and bring this matter to a conclusion."

Despite his disapproving glance at Cassiel, Malachel backed down because he knew Cassiel was the one who had spoken. However, before retreating, he shot Adriel a deadly glare.

"As you have spoken, I shall abide and await your further call." With that, Malachel was the first to leave.

Gabriel waited silently as the other angels departed, the faint sound of their wings dissipating into the cavern. His golden eyes lingered on Adriel, who stood with his back against the rough stone wall, his shoulders tense, and his gaze locked on the injured dragon at his feet. The bluish-gray creature hissed weakly, its movements sluggish but defiant.

Once the chamber was empty, Gabriel took a step forward, his wings folding gracefully behind him.

"How did they find out?" He regarded Adriel, his voice low and measured.

Adriel didn't answer at first, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed a lock of his bloodstained white hair from his face. His golden eyes flicked to Gabriel, guilt and defiance flickering within them.

"I was careless," he admitted, his voice tight. "The dragon… it tried to protect me during a skirmish. It acted on instinct, but its presence was impossible to conceal after that."

Gabriel's expression didn't change, but there was a subtle tension in his posture. "You should have let it go."

Adriel let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and strained.

"Let it go? After all this time?" His stoic eyes burned with emotion as he gestured toward the dragon. "This creature has been with me for years, Gabriel. I couldn't kill it then, and I can't do it now. How could I discard something so loyal, so alive?"

Among all the angels, Adriel had always been different—his heart, though celestial, bore a dangerous, almost mortal sensitivity. Where other angels saw duty, he saw emotion; where they wielded their blades with precision, he hesitated, burdened by a compassion that Elyon's laws deemed unacceptable. This fragile sensitivity within him was both his strength and his downfall, a trait that set him apart but made him too dangerous for a being of light to possess.

Gabriel found himself drawn to Adriel in a way he couldn't fully understand. Adriel's burgeoning mortal-like heart, so raw and unguarded, fascinated him. Gabriel often wondered what it felt like to care so deeply, to question the absolutes that bound their existence.

Gabriel's gaze shifted to the dragon. Its eyes, though clouded with pain, held a flicker of intelligence, a silent plea for survival. He could feel the weight of Adriel's strange bond with the creature—a bond Elyon's laws forbade but could not erase.

"You've put yourself in a dangerous position," Gabriel said quietly. "The others won't hesitate to act if you falter. Malachel is already waiting for an excuse to finish what you started."

Adriel's jaw clenched, and he straightened, his voice firm despite the vulnerability in his expression. "I don't care what Malachel thinks. I don't regret saving it. It's not just a creature to be used and discarded—it's more than that." He hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Gabriel's expression remained impassive, but the faintest flicker of something—conflict, perhaps—crossed his eyes. He didn't answer, letting the silence stretch between them.

Adriel stepped closer, his tone imploring. "Gabriel, you're not like them. You see the flaws in Elyon's laws, don't you? You understand why I couldn't—why I *wouldn't*—kill it."

Gabriel's voice, when he finally spoke, was low and unyielding. "The Lord's law is absolute. It's not for us to question, only to obey." He stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing. "If you don't act, if you don't prove your loyalty, they'll do worse than just kill the dragon. They'll come for you too. You're risking your existence as much as its life."

Adriel looked away, his hand tightening into a fist. "What would you have me do?" he snapped, his voice filled with anguish. "Kill it to satisfy their twisted sense of mercy? Become like Malachel, heartless and cruel?"

Gabriel's gaze didn't waver, though his tone softened slightly. "You don't have to be Malachel, but you can't hesitate either. If you falter, you'll condemn yourself alongside it." He gestured toward the dragon, its injured form trembling on the ground. "And I don't think it would want that for you."

Adriel stared at the dragon for a long moment, his breathing uneven. "I saved it to protect it...but maybe I've doomed it by keeping it close." His voice cracked, and for a moment, the façade of the stern angel crumbled, revealing the anguish beneath. "Do you think there's any way out of this?"

Gabriel stepped forward, his tone dropping to a near whisper. "There is no other way, Adriel."

Adriel looked at him, his golden eyes searching Gabriel's face for some glimmer of understanding or hope. But Gabriel's expression remained stoic, unreadable, leaving the unspoken truth heavy in the air. After a moment, he turned and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing softly in the cavern.

"Gabriel," Adriel called after him, his voice desperate. "If you were me...would you choose duty? Or would you choose the dragon?"

Gabriel paused, his back still turned. His wings shifted slightly as he spoke, his voice cold and resolute. "I would choose to obey." He let the words hang for a moment before adding, more quietly, "Because that's the only choice we're allowed."

Without another word, Gabriel spread his wings and ascended, leaving Adriel alone with his dragon—and his impossible decision.

---

Later that night, Meredith stood alone in her chambers, gazing out over the city. The hum of the castle quieted as the hour grew late, leaving only the soft rustling of curtains stirred by the cool night breeze. Her fingers brushed over her Thysia mark, which remained still—a small relief after the day's tension.

Then, her mark throbbed once. The sensation was brief, barely noticeable, but enough to make her pause. She frowned, her fingers lingering on the raised edges. It felt strange, as though something distant had brushed against it. After a moment, the feeling faded, leaving her unsettled but unsure why.

Far above the mortal plane, Elyon sat on his golden throne, his golden eyes glinting with quiet anticipation.

Around his neck hung the Dragonstone Amulet, the chain of gold resting against his robe like an anchor of power. The gemstone at its heart shifted between fiery gold and stormy red, as though it held the very essence of creation itself. Threads of glowing light swirled within the stone, forming intricate patterns that pulsed faintly.

Elyon reached up, his fingers brushing the amulet where it rested against his chest. The celestial gold filigree encasing the gemstone caught the light, the runes etched into its surface glowing faintly.

His lips curved into a knowing smile. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice soft and resonant, carrying an air of inevitability.

With a subtle gesture, Elyon's hand fell away from the amulet, and its glow faded back into silence.