The air in the council chamber was heavy with tension, the weight of Pyria's losses pressing down on everyone seated at the long table. Reports of yet another border town falling to Stormgard dominated the discussion.
Meredith sat near the end, her arms crossed as she listened to Byron outline the latest casualties. His voice was steady but grim, the usual sharpness in his tone muted by exhaustion.
"We've lost two more towns along the eastern ridge," Byron said, his finger tracing the marked locations on the map spread across the table. "We couldn't hold them. Their forces outnumbered ours five to one."
King Frederik, seated at the head of the table beside Queen Isabel, leaned forward, his battle-hardened features etched with concern. The once-celebrated general, now a monarch tasked with defending a struggling kingdom, spoke in a low, steady voice. "What about fortifications at Ridgecliff? Have they fallen as well?"
Byron hesitated before nodding. "The defenses there are holding for now, Your Majesty, but only barely. They won't last if Stormgard mounts another full-scale attack."
The King addressed the room. "Then we must act swiftly. Reinforcements need to be sent to Ridgecliff immediately. We can't allow our borders to weaken further."
Victoria, seated nearby, straightened her back, her expression calm but her eyes betraying the toll the news was taking. "What about reinforcements from Sunhaven?" she asked, her tone more clipped than usual. "Surely their forces—"
A low chuckle broke through the tension as a familiar voice interrupted her. "Reinforcements? My dear Victoria, you must know how delicate politics can be."
All heads turned as Prince Darien of Sunhaven strode into the chamber, his golden cloak catching the light from the high windows. His flamboyant presence was at odds with the somber room, his every movement a deliberate performance.
"Prince what-his-name," Meredith muttered under her breath, her words carrying just loud enough to draw a few stifled chuckles from the guards at the back.
Victoria sighed heavily, shooting Meredith a warning glare. "Respect, Meredith."
Meredith raised her hands in mock surrender, leaning back in her chair with a small smirk. "Just saying."
Darien didn't seem to notice—or perhaps chose not to. Instead, he swept into the room with exaggerated grace, bowing low before Victoria. "Your Highness," he said, his voice dripping with charm. "I came as soon as I heard. Sunhaven stands ready to assist my future bride in any way it can."
Prince Darien of Sunhaven, as third-in-line to the throne, lived comfortably in the shadow of his elder siblings, free from the burdens of ruling and the pressures of military command. This lack of direct responsibility made him charmingly carefree but also left him without the authority to make significant decisions regarding Sunhaven's resources.
While Darien excelled as a socialite and diplomat, his influence often ended at grand gestures and flowery promises, unable to carry the weight of substantial political backing. His position, though prestigious, was not strong enough to unilaterally secure the reinforcements Pyria desperately needed, a fact he seemed blissfully indifferent to as he navigated the role of Victoria's betrothed with theatrical flair rather than pragmatic urgency.
King Frederik's sharp eyes followed Darien's every move, his tone cutting through the prince's theatrics. "We're not looking for assurances, Prince Darien. We need action. If Ridgecliff falls, it won't just be Pyria's loss—it will threaten Sunhaven's influence in this region."
Darien, momentarily caught off guard, recovered quickly with a charming smile. "Of course, Your Majesty. I assure you, Sunhaven has every intention of fulfilling its obligations. But these things require careful negotiation."
King's voice was soft but firm, his gaze piercing. "Negotiation means little to the families who've lost their homes and loved ones, Prince Darien. Time is of the essence."
Darien straightened, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "Ah, yes, time. A most pressing matter, indeed. But surely, Your Highness, you understand that these things take careful planning."
Meredith leaned forward, her tone cutting through the prince's rehearsed charm. "So what you're saying is, we're on our own."
Darien blinked, clearly caught off guard by her bluntness. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't need to," Meredith shot back.
Victoria placed a calming hand on the table, her voice firm. "That's enough, Meredith."
Meredith leaned back again, her expression unreadable. "I'm just trying to understand where we stand, that's all."
The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of Sunhaven's role in Pyria's defense looming over the discussion. King Frederik exchanged a glance with his wife, their expressions a mixture of frustration and determination. The stakes were growing higher with each passing day, and the cracks in their alliances were becoming harder to ignore.
Sunhaven was more than just an ally—it was a colossus among kingdoms, its influence spanning far beyond its golden deserts and gleaming cities. Renowned for its wealth, military strength, and cultural sophistication, it was often regarded as the heart of the continent's political and economic power.
Pyria, by contrast, was a splinter of that vast empire, born not of rebellion but of calculated ambition and trust. The founding of Pyria was an unprecedented move, a rare act of generosity from Sunhaven's royal family toward one of their own.
The kingdom's roots lay with King Frederik, once a celebrated general in Sunhaven's mighty armies. His victories on the battlefield were the stuff of legend, his strategies studied in academies across the land.
But more than a warrior, Frederik had been a man of vision. When Sunhaven's borders grew stable and its expansion slowed, he proposed a bold idea: the establishment of a new kingdom to safeguard the vulnerable northern territories and act as a bastion of Sunhaven's influence in the region.
The royal family, trusting in Frederik's loyalty and skill, granted him the land and the authority to rule it. Thus, Pyria was born—not only as an independent nation but as a trusted outpost of Sunhaven's might.
Over time, it grew into its own identity, though its ties to Sunhaven remained strong. Even now, with Victoria preparing to marry into Sunhaven's royal family, those bonds of origin and alliance were evident in every diplomatic exchange.
Yet, as the pressures of war mounted, the weight of being a smaller kingdom tethered to a titan like Sunhaven often felt both protective and oppressive.
Sunhaven, like Pyria, operated under the vast shadow of Lord Elyon's celestial dominion. The kingdom owed much of its prosperity to its alignment with Elyon's will.
While Sunhaven's wealth and military might seemed unmatched on the mortal plane, its true strength lay in the angels that periodically descended to its lands, granting protection against external threats—or at least, that was the perception.
The Sunhaven royal family had long maintained a devout loyalty to Elyon, ensuring the kingdom's continued favor through unwavering obedience to celestial decrees.
Dragons, when sighted near Sunhaven's borders, were swiftly handled by angelic forces, reinforcing the kingdom's reputation as a safe haven.
This divine protection was both a blessing and a burden, for it came with expectations that Sunhaven would act as a stabilizing force for the region, extending Elyon's influence wherever needed.
For Pyria, this connection to Elyon was another thread tying the smaller kingdom to its parent state. King Frederik had ensured that Pyria's founding also included the Lord's blessings.
However, while Sunhaven often benefited from Elyon's active intervention, Pyria had received far less attention in recent years—a discrepancy that was becoming increasingly obvious as the kingdom struggled to defend its borders.
The disparity in their treatment wasn't lost on Meredith, who often wondered aloud why the Lord seemed so indifferent to Pyria's plight.
After the council meeting, Meredith found herself wandering the castle gardens, the cool evening air a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside.
She turned a corner to find Gabriel sitting near the fountain, his golden gaze fixed on the water as it trickled down the stone tiers. The soft light of the setting sun caught his form, casting a faint halo around his wings, which were folded neatly against his back. His posture was relaxed yet poised, the faintest glint of ruby earrings swaying gently with the tilt of his head. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of the sword at his waist, the weapon gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
Meredith's lips curled into a mischievous smirk. Too easy. "Brooding by a fountain? Classic angel move. Should I fetch a harp to complete the picture?"
Gabriel turned to her, his expression unreadable. "There's more to learn in silence than in speech."
Meredith folded her arms, tilting her head as she studied him. "Oh, is that the angelic way of saying you're just there looking seductive?"
Her eyes darted to Gabriel's sword, and in one swift motion, she pulled it free from its sheath and stepped back, holding it aloft like a trophy.
"Meredith," Gabriel was surprised, his tone sharp but measured.
"Relax," she said with a laugh, testing the weight of the blade. "It's not every day I get to hold an angel's sword."
Gabriel's gaze remained steady, but there was a flicker of exasperation in his eyes. "Return it."
"Not yet," she replied, twirling the sword. "But you're welcome to try and take it back."
Gabriel closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Before she could react, his hand caught her wrist, his grip firm but careful. He stepped in close, using the moment of her surprise to pry the sword from her grasp.
Their faces were inches apart now, the tension between them crackling like a drawn bowstring.
"Are you done?" Gabriel asked, his voice low, his golden eyes locking onto hers.
Meredith swallowed, her grin faltering for just a moment before she regained her composure. "Depends. Are you going to punish me for stealing it?"
Gabriel sheathed the sword with a smooth motion, his hand lingering on the hilt as he stepped back. "You're reckless."
"And you're predictable," she shot back, her grin returning. "But I'll admit, that was impressive. Maybe next time, you'll let me keep it."
Gabriel's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he shook his head faintly, turning back to the fountain. "Your persistence is admirable."
"And your deflections are predictable," Meredith countered, her voice light but teasing.
Meredith then folded her arms. "What do you think about all this? The border towns falling, the alliances not working out... Does it even matter to someone like you?"
Gabriel hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered her question. "It matters. But not in the way you think."
Meredith tilted her head, frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked back at the fountain, his reflection shimmering in the water.
"The Lord's concerns lie elsewhere," he said finally. "Dragon sightings, the balance of power among celestial forces—these are the things that draw his attention."
Meredith's brow furrowed. "And what about us? What about mortals fighting to survive? Why is it so hard to get Elyon to send angels to help us?"
Gabriel's gaze remained on the water, his voice quiet. "Mortals are not the focus of the Lord's design."
Meredith laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "It's almost like all of this—our struggles, our lives—it's just a game to him."
Gabriel didn't respond, but the faintest flicker of something crossed his face. Guilt, perhaps? Or understanding? Meredith couldn't tell, but it made her press further.
"Well, if it's a game, then we need better players on our side," Meredith said, stepping closer, her tone sharp but laced with curiosity.
Unbeknownst to Meredith, Gabriel's thoughts lingered on another moment not too long ago.He had been forced to cast a Forget spell that day—an order from Elyon to wipe away mortal witnesses, to preserve the delicate veil between their world and his.
But the memory of that act, of erasing not just the pain but the very essence of that creature's transformation from the minds of those who saw, had never left him. Now, standing before Meredith, her boldness stirring something deeper within him, he couldn't help but feel echoes of that guilt resurface.
She tilted her head, studying his golden eyes, the ones that seemed to hold answers he would never share. "You may have watched us all day, Gabriel," she pressed, her voice softening. "Lurking in the shadows. Why are you even here?" She gestured vaguely toward the castle grounds. "What could possibly be so important to an angel that you'd stick around a crumbling mortal kingdom like ours?"
When he didn't immediately respond, Meredith stepped closer still, her voice gaining an edge of frustration. "Why don't you stop observing for once and actually do something? Be an ally to Pyria. Or are we just another one of Elyon's little projects to you? Something to watch burn while you wait for your next assignment?"
Gabriel's golden gaze finally shifted to her, calm and unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might ignore her entirely. But then he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "You assume I am here for the kingdom."
Meredith frowned, his answer raising more questions than it resolved. "If not for Pyria, then for what? For who?"
Gabriel's silence stretched just long enough for her to feel the full weight of her own boldness. And yet, even as doubt crept into her mind, she refused to look away. Whatever his reasons, she intended to pry them loose.
Finally, he stepped closer, his golden eyes locking with hers, unreadable yet intense. His voice, low and steady, carried a weight that made the air between them feel charged.
"I am here," he said softly, "because you are."
Before she could respond, his wings unfurled in a single, fluid motion, catching the moonlight as they spread wide. With a gust of wind that left her hair swirling around her face, Gabriel launched into the sky, disappearing into the night like a shadow swallowed by the heavens.
Meredith stood frozen, her heart pounding as she stared after him. His words echoed in her mind, their meaning as elusive as the man who had spoken them.