The camp was alive with a rare energy that night, the crackle of firelight mingling with laughter and the clinking of cups. The soldiers celebrated their progress, their spirits buoyed by camaraderie and the promise of hope.Meredith stood among them, a warm smile on her face as she listened to Garrick recount one of their recent skirmishes in exaggerated detail.Fresia hovered close by, her expression softening as she watched her princess finally relax, if only for a moment.Then, without warning, a collective gasp rippled through the camp. The marked soldiers, scattered among the group, clutched their arms or chests, wincing as a violent throb coursed through their Thysia Marks. The joy of the night froze, replaced by tension so sharp it felt like a tangible force.Meredith's hand instinctively moved to her own mark, which pulsed faintly beneath her skin. A frown etched itself across her features as the pain subsided, leaving only unease in its wake. Around her, whispers spread like wildfire, fear taking root in the hearts of her people.She excused herself, her steps quickening as she moved toward the edge of the camp, away from prying eyes. There, in the shadows of the trees, Gabriel stood as though waiting for her, his golden eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness.Meredith had never given much thought to the mark etched into Pyria's citizens. It was as ordinary as the rising sun, a symbol bestowed with a royal ceremony but treated with the same casual acceptance as a surname or a family crest.In the bustling life of the kingdom, the marks rarely sparked curiosity; they were just there, as much a part of life as the mountains and forests that surrounded them.But now, as a commander guiding soldiers through perilous times, she saw the marks with new eyes. They weren't merely decorations or symbols of allegiance—they were pulses of a deeper bond, something she couldn't quite explain but felt in her bones.Her own mark, once ignored, now seemed alive, flaring with faint glimmers at the strangest moments. More than that, she felt the weight of every soldier's mark under her command, as though each glowing sigil was a thread tying her to them.It wasn't just duty that surged within her—it was something primal, fierce, protective. Meredith felt like a mama bear guarding her cubs, a force stronger than logic propelling her to shield them at all costs.For the first time, she wondered if the marks weren't just symbols, but signals of something far greater. Something that Elyon, and perhaps even the angels, had always known. And for the first time, she truly wanted to know what they meant.Approaching Gabriel, Meredith didn't waste time. "What's happening to us?" she demanded, her voice sharp with frustration. "Why does the mark do this? Why now?"Gabriel's golden eyes lingered on her, their intensity unnerving in the dim firelight. His wings shifted slightly, their soft rustle the only sound as he finally spoke."The mark reacts to Elyon's will," he said, his voice calm yet heavy with meaning. "When it throbs, it means his attention is focused on those bound to him."Meredith stepped closer, her anger simmering. "That's not an answer," she snapped. "What does he want with us?"Gabriel hesitated, his gaze dropping for the briefest of moments. When he looked up, there was a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—in his expression. "The marks tie you to him. They are more than symbols. They are a claim, a promise, and a reminder. Through them, Elyon exerts his dominion.""A claim?" Meredith's fists clenched. "A promise of what? That we're his property? Is that why he 'helps' us? Because we're just part of some cosmic bargain?"Gabriel's wings shifted again, his tone softening but not losing its weight. "It's not so simple. Pyria's prosperity—the royal family's rise—did not happen without sacrifice."Meredith froze, her heart sinking as the weight of his words settled over her. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense. "What kind of sacrifice?"Gabriel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Your family accepted Elyon's terms when they founded this kingdom. They knew the marks would come. They knew what it would cost."Her breath hitched as she tried to process the revelation. "You're saying... My parents knew? They knew people would suffer because of this?"Gabriel's expression didn't waver. "They knew the risks. But they also knew the alternative. Pyria would not have endured without Elyon's favor. The royal family made their choice."Meredith's anger flared again, though now it was laced with disbelief. "And they didn't think to warn the rest of us? To warn me?"Gabriel's golden eyes softened, his voice low. "Would it have changed anything? This is Elyon's game. The rules were set long before you were born."Meredith stared at him, the fire in her eyes refusing to be dimmed. "You always speak in riddles," she said bitterly. "Don't you ever get tired of keeping secrets?"For the first time, Gabriel's composure cracked ever so slightly, his voice tinged with quiet weariness. "It's not secrecy, Meredith. It's survival."She opened her mouth to retort, but he raised a hand gently, stopping her. "It's late," he said softly, his tone more like a command than a suggestion. "You should rest. There's more to face tomorrow."Meredith watched him retreat into the shadows, his figure vanishing as if the night had claimed him. But his words remained, a weight she couldn't shake.She sat down heavily by the dying fire, her mind racing with the enormity of what she had learned. The marks, the sacrifice, the kingdom's fragile balance—it all felt like chains, invisible yet unbreakable.The heavenly realm shimmered with a soft, perpetual glow, its vast expanse of clouds and light a stark contrast to the turmoil of the mortal world.Gabriel stepped into its ethereal serenity, his wings catching the glimmer of celestial radiance as he ascended to the grand halls where angels gathered.Raphael was waiting, his golden gaze fixed on the expanse below. He didn't turn as Gabriel approached, but his voice broke the stillness. "You told Pyria's princess," he said, calm and measured, yet carrying a weight of unspoken understanding. "She must be special to you."Gabriel's jaw tightened, his wings shifting slightly, but he didn't deny the statement. Instead, he moved to stand beside Raphael, his gaze distant. "She has a right to know."Gabriel stood in the quiet stillness, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon, but his thoughts lingered elsewhere, caught in the web of what he knew to be true. The consequences of growing too close to mortals were etched into the fabric of their existence, as unyielding as Elyon's own decrees.Angels could bond with dragons, their primal allure stirring a strange and dangerous respect. The aftermath of such encounters might bring fleeting chaos or even regret, but it did not unravel their celestial nature.Humans, however, were a different matter entirely.Gabriel's wings shifted, their slow, deliberate rustle echoing his unease. He had seen it before—an angel drawn to a mortal, their connection growing deeper until it became a bond that could not be ignored. The vulnerability that came with it was a chink in their divine armor, an opening Elyon's laws could not tolerate. When that bond turned to rebellion, it led to only one outcome: the fall.His jaw tightened as he recalled the stories of those who had succumbed. Their wings burned away, their celestial light extinguished, leaving them as nothing more than flesh and bone. It wasn't just the loss of power—it was the loss of everything they had been, their eternal purpose reduced to ash. A mortal bond had the power to destroy an angel completely.A surge of light filled the hall, and both angels turned as Cassiel entered.His silver wings glimmered faintly as he walked with purpose toward Elyon's throne. The Lord sat at its center, a figure of radiant authority, the Dragonstone Amulet resting against His chest, pulsing softly with an otherworldly rhythm.The activation of multiple dragons from Pyria was no mere whim; it was a calculated move in His grand design. For centuries, Elyon had carefully selected marked humans, weaving them into the fabric of mortal kingdoms as silent pieces of His celestial strategy.Dragons were not just weapons but symbols—creatures whose power could shift the balance of fear, awe, and reverence in any realm.Pyria, a young and ambitious kingdom, was perfectly positioned for this purpose. Its proximity to key celestial crossings and its turbulent history with dragon sightings made it an ideal catalyst for divine spectacle.By unleashing a surge of dragons, Elyon could strengthen the angels' hold over mortals, ensuring that both angels and humans recognized His ultimate authority. The dragons' simultaneous transformations would serve as a demonstration of celestial power.Cassiel knelt before the throne, his head bowed in deference. "My Lord," he began, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency, "the marked ones are near their transformation. I humbly ask for your indulgence—to delay."Elyon's gaze shifted to Cassiel, His expression serene but unyielding. "Why delay what has already been set in motion?" His voice resonated with celestial authority, each word an undeniable decree.Cassiel lifted his head slightly, his silver eyes meeting Elyon's. "My Lord, the dragons' nature stirs instincts in us that are difficult to suppress. To awaken so many at once would test even the strongest of Your servants. Their power commands respect, but it also ignites urges that... unsettle the balance. To allow these transformations now would risk creating chaos among us."Cassiel's concern extended beyond the immediate chaos of awakening so many dragons at once; his thoughts rested heavily on the angels themselves.They had only recently returned from a grueling campaign beyond Pyria, where they had fought to secure victory against another Lord's forces. The battle had been hard-won, leaving even the most steadfast among them wearied in both spirit and strength.To demand they now face the primal ferocity of dragons—creatures that stirred their deepest instincts—risked pushing them beyond their limits. Cassiel, ever attuned to the well-being of his brethren, saw the strain in their eyes, the faint hesitations in their once-flawless movements.Raphael stood silent, his expression unreadable, but his wings shifted ever so slightly, betraying a flicker of unease. Gabriel's gaze remained on the floor, his jaw tightening at Cassiel's words. He stole a glance at his brother, whose stoicism masked whatever turmoil he felt."The angels are Your steadfast servants," Cassiel continued, his tone unwavering. "But to test them with so many dragons simultaneously would strain their resolve. A delay would allow us to prepare—mentally and strategically—so that when the time comes, we may act without faltering. Let us not risk turning Your strength into discord."Elyon's gaze dropped briefly to the Dragonstone Amulet, its light pulsing in rhythm with the marks across the mortal realm. For a moment, the celestial hall was silent, the weight of His decision pressing on all present."You speak wisely, Cassiel," Elyon said finally, His voice a steady, resonant calm. "Very well. A delay will be granted, but only for a time. Ensure that this reprieve strengthens My purpose, not weakens it."Cassiel inclined his head deeply, gratitude flickering across his features. "It will, my Lord," he vowed.Elyon's gaze lingered on Cassiel, His tone shifting into something almost contemplative. "Do not mistake mercy for indulgence, Cassiel. The marked ones will serve their purpose when the time is right.""Of course, my Lord," Cassiel replied, his voice measured and reverent. Rising, he cast a quick glance at Raphael and Gabriel before turning to leave, his heart heavy with the weight of what was to come.As Elyon's light dimmed slightly, signaling the end of the audience, Cassiel turned and passed by Raphael and Gabriel without a word, though his gaze lingered on them for a moment. Raphael's wings shifted slightly, his expression unreadable as he watched Cassiel retreat.Gabriel, however, remained motionless, his thoughts a storm of conflict. The delay was a reprieve, but it also bound them tighter to Elyon's inscrutable will. He exhaled softly, the weight of the heavenly realm pressing heavier than ever as he turned away and descended back toward the mortal world.Morning came, and the tension in the camp was suffocating as news of the marked humans' throbbing pain spread. Meredith paced near the campfire, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.Fresia watched her with concern, while Garrick attempted to maintain order among the unsettled troops.Gabriel appeared from the shadows, his presence as silent and imposing as ever. His golden gaze fixed on Meredith, who didn't hesitate to confront him."You," she said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Take me to Victoria."Gabriel tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Your sister is in the capital. You cannot simply leave your post.""Don't tell me what I can or can't do," Meredith shot back, her tone fierce. "If something's happening to the marked, she needs to know. I need to see her."Gabriel's wings shifted, the faint rustle breaking the tense silence. "You have responsibilities here. Your soldiers rely on you.""And what about my sister? What about the kingdom?" Meredith stepped closer, her eyes blazing with determination. "You clearly know more about what's going on than you're telling me. If you won't give me answers, the least you can do is take me to her."For a moment, Gabriel said nothing, his gaze unwavering as he studied her. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "This isn't a decision to make lightly.""It's not a decision," Meredith said firmly. "It's a command."The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as Gabriel held her gaze. Then, with a faint inclination of his head, he relented. "Very well. But understand, this journey will come with consequences."Meredith didn't flinch. "Everything does."