What had begun as a short mission to secure the route to the island stretched far longer than anticipated. Days turned into weeks, and weeks blurred into months.The soldiers faced countless challenges—unpredictable weather, scattered resistance from Stormgard infiltrators, and the ever-present tension of dragon sightings—but they pushed on.Each step brought them closer to Elysia Island, their final destination and the promise of safety it held. When the island finally appeared before them, its beauty was a stark contrast to the trials they had endured.The sun bathed Elysia island in golden light, its tranquil beaches gleaming like threads of silver against the shimmering blue sea. Towering cliffs ringed the edges, a natural barrier as rugged as it was beautiful. Beyond, lush greenery blanketed the rolling hills, dotted with vibrant bursts of flowers in shades of orange and violet.Yet, beneath its picturesque surface lay the weight of their purpose—a reminder that this was not a retreat, but the first line of defense should the unthinkable happen.Meredith let out a low whistle, resting her hands on her hips. "Well, if Pyria falls, at least we've got ourselves a decent vacation spot."Garrick grunted beside her, his sharp gaze scanning the area for vulnerabilities. "Not much of a vacation when you're running for your life."Meredith smirked. "Always the optimist, Garrick."The troops began setting up a temporary camp near the shore, the soldiers moving with practiced efficiency under Garrick's barked orders. Fresia, ever vigilant, stuck close to Meredith, though she seemed preoccupied with ensuring the princess wasn't about to run headfirst into another dragon.As the sun dipped lower, painting the horizon in hues of amber and crimson, Meredith wandered toward the cliffs. The air here was fresher, carrying the faint tang of salt and the whispers of the waves crashing below. She wasn't surprised when she spotted a familiar figure in the shadows of a lone tree.Gabriel stood with his back to her, his white wings barely visible in the twilight. His golden gaze was fixed on the horizon, unreadable and distant.Meredith approached with her usual swagger, plopping down on the grass beside him without a care. "Is this what angels do for fun? Sit around looking mysterious and unreachable?"Gabriel glanced down at her, one brow arching. "I was thinking.""Ah," Meredith replied, nodding sagely. "Mysterious and brooding. A double threat."Though Gabriel didn't reply, the faintest twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.Meredith leaned back on her elbows, her eyes following his line of sight. "What's so fascinating out there, anyway? Planning your next dramatic entrance?"Gabriel's tone was quiet, almost wistful. "It's not the horizon I'm thinking of."Meredith tilted her head to look at him, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Then what is it?"But Gabriel didn't answer, his gaze drifting further away as if the answer lay somewhere in the fading light.---Gabriel's mind wandered, pulled back to a memory that refused to fade.Centuries ago, in the resplendent halls of Elyon's divine domain, the announcement came like a ripple across the celestial plane. The angels, their forms assembled in perfect order, stood in silence as Elyon himself descended upon a podium of light. His presence was absolute, his golden gaze sweeping over his creations.The light in the celestial hall dimmed slightly as Elyon raised his hands, holding up a newly forged amulet, its brilliance captivating the assembled angels.This artifact, later known as the Dragonstone Amulet, radiated an otherworldly glow that pulsed in rhythm with Elyon's commanding presence. His voice resonated, each word ringing with a divine cadence, as if the very heavens bent to his will."I present to you," Elyon declared, his tone a blend of authority and reverence, "a creature born of my will and mortal essence. They shall be referred to as "Dragons." and serve as an extension of my divine purpose. Behold the embodiment of strength and fury, the balance of creation and destruction."The air thickened, humming with raw power, as a mortal was brought forward. A young man, trembling and wide-eyed, stood at the edge of the dais, his chest bare to reveal a pulsing Thysia mark.The mark glowed faintly, its energy flickering like the ember of a flame about to ignite. The mortal's breaths were ragged, his body shaking as Elyon's voice wrapped around him like an inescapable force.With a wave of Elyon's hand, the mark blazed with golden light, and the mortal cried out, his voice breaking into a roar.The transformation began abruptly, his human frame convulsing as tendrils of energy coiled around him, reshaping his form. His bones elongated and cracked, his skin darkened and hardened into scales that glimmered like molten metal. His hands morphed into claws, his back arched violently, and massive wings erupted from his shoulders in a spray of golden light.The angels watched in stunned silence, their golden eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and unease. This was no mere evolution—this was a rebirth, a transformation that defied their comprehension.The mortal's cry turned into a powerful roar as his face elongated into a regal snout, his teeth gleaming like polished ivory. When the light finally subsided, a dragon stood where the mortal had been, its shimmering scales a kaleidoscope of gold and stormy gray, its body rippling with strength and raw, untamed energy.Elyon's golden gaze swept over his audience, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. "The mortal shell is fragile, bound by time and weakness. But this... this is transcendence. The culmination of their fleeting existence. Angels, you now bear witness to a new era. Dragons shall serve as a testament to my will—a bridge between realms, a force to balance creation."The dragon lifted its massive head, its golden eyes locking onto Elyon with a burning intelligence that silenced even the most skeptical angels. Its gaze was unflinching, filled with both reverence and the unyielding defiance of a creature that now understood its own power.Among the gathered angels, murmurs began to rise. Malachel, ever eager, stepped forward, his expression a twisted blend of delight and hunger."Exquisite," he breathed, his voice carrying an edge of something darker. He circled the dragon slowly, his golden eyes roving over its form. "Such raw power, born from such a lowly creature. Tell me, my Lord, are we to tame this magnificence, or let it roam unchecked?"Elyon's smile widened faintly, enigmatic as always. "You will learn," he said simply.Malachel's lips curled into a smirk as he turned back to the dragon, his fingers twitching as though he were already imagining the hunt. The dragon let out a low growl, its chest vibrating with a sound that sent a shiver through even the most stoic angels.Gabriel, a young angel at the time, standing near the edge of the assembly, observed the scene with a quiet intensity. The primal instincts tugging at the edges of his mind were foreign and unwelcome—a strange mix of reverence and something more carnal.Malachel broke the silence, his voice dripping with amusement. "They are fascinating, my Lord. Mortal filth transformed into divine fury. And yet... they retain something human, don't they? A fragility, perhaps?" His grin widened, his words sharper. "I think I'll enjoy testing their limits."The dragon's golden eyes flicked to Malachel, a low hiss escaping its fanged maw. For a moment, the tension between the celestial and the creature hung thick in the air.Elyon merely watched, his expression unreadable, as if he anticipated the chaos that would follow his creation.---In the years that followed, the angels learned to interact with dragons, observing with their nature and testing the boundaries of their power. For decades, their understanding deepened, revealing truths both fascinating and horrifying.Central to their discoveries was the Dragonstone Amulet worn by Elyon—a relic they came to realize was the keystone of the transformation.The angels discovered that by observing the beat of a Thysia mark, they could estimate how long a transformation might take. The mark's rhythm ebbed and flowed with a maddening randomness, it was seemingly linked with Elyon's will. Yet, one thing remained certain—when the mark glowed with a supernaturally bright intensity, the transformation was imminent.They also realized that transformation could be delayed by keeping marked humans underground, away from the celestial pull of the skies. Angels looking to delay the unavoidable, for any reason, would often employ this strategy.The discovery that angels could mate with dragons was not an immediate revelation, but one stumbled upon through decades of interaction. At first, the instinctive pull toward dragons was dismissed as another layer of Elyon's enigmatic design.Yet, the allure became undeniable—a mix of raw power and primal beauty that drew angels to dragons in ways they had never experienced with mortals.When the first encounters occurred, the angels were struck by the intensity of the experience, as though the act bridged their celestial essence with something ancient and untamed.For a fleeting moment, angels felt alive in a way that defied their eternal nature—a rush of chaos interwoven with the divine precision that bound their existence.But the aftermath was something entirely different.The elation that followed the act soon gave way to a violent, consuming disdain. The very same power that had enraptured them turned sour, twisting into an uncontrollable urge to destroy the creature they had embraced.Angels, beings of balance and order, were ill-equipped to handle the emotional chaos dragons evoked. What began as an overwhelming attraction ended in hatred so profound it burned like holy fire in their veins.Elyon, ever the orchestrator, observed this cycle with detachment and made his decree. Angels could mate with dragons, but they were required to kill them immediately afterward."It is the only mercy," Elyon proclaimed, "for creatures born of chaos and divine will cannot coexist. Their power must end where it begins—with you, my angels."The law was etched into their celestial code, a command that provided structure to their burgeoning instincts. With Elyon's permission, the angels embraced the duality of their new role.They indulged in the forbidden pleasure, knowing that the final act would be destruction. For some, like Malachel, it became a twisted ritual of admiration and obliteration, a way to assert dominance over creatures that both enchanted and enraged them.---Malachel stood at the edge of the celestial gathering, his golden eyes gleaming. He surveyed the young angels before him, his voice cutting through the air like a blade."Humans," he began, his tone dripping with derision, "are to us what ants are to them. Tireless little marchers, scurrying about with no comprehension of the grandeur towering above them. Tell me, do mortals marvel at the ants' tiny parades before crushing them beneath their heels?"He let the question hang for a moment, his lips curling into a cold smile. "Of course not. They don't hesitate, nor should we."Several angels shifted uncomfortably, but Malachel pressed on, his voice softening into something almost reverent."Dragons, though," he said, his expression sharpening, "dragons command a different response. They rise above the muck of humanity, becoming something worthy of notice—even respect."He began to pace, his steps deliberate, the folds of his robes whispering against the marble floor. "But respect has its limits," he added, his tone cooling. "They are tools, after all, bound to Elyon's will. Their purpose is fleeting, and when the time comes, we do what must be done."He paused, turning to face the gathered angels, his golden eyes narrowing. "Admire them, if you must. Indulge in what they offer. But do not forget the law. 'Mate them, then decimate them.' That is Elyon's command, and it is a mercy we must deliver without hesitation."He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, before continuing with a smirk that held no warmth. "Their beauty is fleeting, their power intoxicating. But what they awaken in you—the chaos, the fury, the disdain—that is the truth of their nature. And it is our duty to end it before it consumes us."The others recoiled, but none could deny the truth in his words. Malachel's approach, brutal as it was, seemed almost natural—an unspoken understanding of the predator-prey dynamic Elyon had woven into their creation.For him, dragons were not just challenges; they were playthings to be conquered, reminders of the dominion angels held over both mortals and their transformed counterparts.Amid the unfolding years, Gabriel often observed in silence, his golden eyes betraying none of his thoughts. He had seen angels succumb to their basest instincts, their awe for dragons mingling with a disdain they could not fully abandon.Yet even Gabriel could not deny the truth: dragons were unlike anything they had encountered before. Though born of mortals, they transcended human frailty, commanding a respect angels had never afforded humanity.Even now, as he stood in the shadows of Elysia Island, watching Meredith—a marked human destined to transform—Gabriel couldn't help but recall those early days. The contradictions, the discoveries, the way dragons had reshaped everything angels thought they knew about power, respect, and control.And Malachel's words lingered in his mind, a dark echo: Mate them, then decimate them.---Back on the cliff, Gabriel's wings shifted slightly, the faint rustle breaking the silence that had settled over them. The golden hues of the sunset had deepened into the indigo of night, stars beginning to peek through the darkening sky.Several hours had passed since Meredith had plopped herself beside him, her playful remarks gradually giving way to genuine conversation. They had talked about the island, strategy, and the strange twists of fate that had brought them to this moment.But now, the quiet seemed to carry the unspoken weight of everything they hadn't said. Meredith, sensing the shift in his demeanor, sat up and brushed her hands together, the faint chill of the evening brushing against her skin."You're brooding again," she said lightly, trying to draw him out. "You know, for someone who claims to be above mortal concerns, you think an awful lot."Gabriel's gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, his golden eyes softened. "Perhaps I've learned that mortal concerns are not so easily ignored."Meredith grinned. "You're welcome."Gabriel's lips curved slightly, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Don't get too confident, princess.""Oh, I passed confident about two hours ago," she quipped, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.Gabriel's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, as if searching for something unspoken. Then, with a faint nod, he turned and disappeared into the growing shadows, leaving Meredith alone with the waves and the questions he never seemed to answer.Later that evening, Meredith sat with Fresia near the campfire, the two of them sharing a quiet moment."Do you ever get the feeling he's hiding something?" Meredith asked, poking at the fire with a stick.Fresia looked up from her pack, frowning. "Gabriel? Of course, he's hiding something. He's an angel. They're made of secrets."Meredith smirked. "Yeah, but I think he's hiding something... different. Like, I don't know, maybe he actually cares?"Fresia rolled her eyes. "Your Highness, if you think angels care about mortals, I've got a castle made of sand to sell you."Meredith chuckled, but the thought lingered. As the fire crackled and the stars began to dot the sky, her mind wandered back to Gabriel's fleeting glances, his rare smiles, and the way his words carried just enough weight to make her wonder what he wasn't saying.Her thoughts were interrupted by Garrick's booming voice calling for a final headcount, and Meredith pushed herself to her feet, brushing off the dirt."Let's go," she said to Fresia, flashing her a confident grin. "We've got an island to fortify and a kingdom to save."Fresia sighed but followed, muttering under her breath. "And an angel to babysit, apparently."