"You shan't pursue love," Meredith's mother, the Queen, had said, her regal tone firm but laced with quiet affection."Let love pursue you. A ruler must always consider the kingdom before her heart. If love finds you worthy, it will come to you in its time."The words drifted back to Meredith as she stood outside the war tent, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Nearby, soldiers worked under the faint glow of torches, inspecting several anti-dragon devices. The metallic hum of testing and the low murmurs of their discussion filled the air, but Meredith's focus drifted elsewhere.Her gaze lingered on the horizon, though her thoughts were far away, carried back to a conversation she'd overheard long ago between her mother and Victoria.It was the wisdom of a queen, the kind of advice meant to guide a young woman destined to rule—a lesson about restraint, dignity, and patience.Women were to be pursued, not to pursue.It was a rule Meredith had always struggled with, a constraint that clashed with her spirited nature.That particular day, Victoria had been on the cusp of an engagement. The announcement to the court was set for the next morning, and Meredith, full of mischief, had taken every opportunity to tease her elder sister.She couldn't help it—Victoria, always poised and dutiful, was her best friend, and Meredith felt an ache at the thought of losing her to Sunhaven.Victoria had tolerated the teasing, though not without a few pointed scowls, and the two sisters had engaged in their usual round of playful spirit weapons banter. No one else could get away with it, but Victoria had a soft spot for Meredith's impish antics.Meredith had always been different—more rebellious, more vibrant, her energy boundless. And her appreciation for beauty? That knew no gender.She had kissed both men and women in the past, each time with a roguish smile and a whisper of, "You're beautiful," that left them blushing.She never crossed boundaries—her flirtations were light, playful, and always met with laughter or a knowing grin. Occasionally, she indulged in fleeting touches or playful caresses, but only with those who allowed it, their amusement as much a reward to her as their company."Eventually, you have to choose," Victoria had said that day, her tone half-scolding as she gave Meredith a sharp look.Meredith had shrugged, utterly unbothered. "I'll know him—or her—when I see them. It'll be as natural as the sun rising in the east.""If you're allowed to choose," Victoria had countered with a wry grin. The weight of political marriage was something both sisters felt acutely, a shared fate looming like a shadow over their lives."I should be allowed," Meredith had protested. "You're taking the majority of the burden."Victoria had smiled softly, her expression a mix of affection and resignation. "We shall see."The memory lingered now, replaying in Meredith's mind. It wasn't Victoria's engagement or even her mother's words that occupied her thoughts, but something else—a moment that felt both distant and achingly close.A battlefield.A certain celestial being.His movements, precise and unrelenting, cutting through the chaos of war with grace that bordered on divine. The gore of the fight was stark against the ethereal glow of his wings, which spread wide, casting an almost hypnotic aura over everything they touched.Meredith felt her breath hitch as the scene replayed itself once more in her mind. It wasn't just his power—it was the way he carried it, calm and controlled, yet devastatingly effective.For a fleeting moment, her mother's words resurfaced: Let love pursue you.But Meredith had never been one to wait.She sat forward, her gaze hardening as she clenched her fists. She hated the idea of sitting idly, waiting for someone else—even him—to make the first move.But oh, how she longed to know his heart.---Gabriel wandered through the camp later that night, seeking solitude amidst the quiet bustle of Middleton's recovering forces. The fires burned low, their flickering light casting long shadows across weary soldiers. It was at one such fire that Gabriel spotted him—a lone soldier, his face weathered yet kind, sitting with an air of quiet introspection.The man glanced up as Gabriel approached, a faint smile softening the lines on his face. "Greetings, O angel," he said casually, gesturing to the empty spot beside him. "Is this mortal fortunate enough to share your company for a short time?"Gabriel paused a few paces away, his golden eyes assessing the soldier in silence.The man, seemingly unbothered by the angel's hesitation, leaned forward and began tracing something in the dirt. His fingers moved with deliberate precision, the lines curving smoothly into a celestial sigil—a mark known only to angels.The firelight danced over the symbol, its meaning unmistakable. Gabriel stiffened, his wings shifting subtly as his sharp gaze met the soldier's. The glow in his eyes intensified, a faint flicker of intrigue breaking through his otherwise stoic expression."I'm like you," the man said softly, his voice carrying a wistful note. "Or I was, once.""You fell," Gabriel said, his tone low, the words neither a question nor an accusation.The man chuckled, the sound quiet but warm. "If you can call it that. I fell. In love, with my wife."Gabriel studied him for a moment, then sat fully beside him. His eyes lingered on the soldier's face, taking in the sharp jawline and the faint, almost imperceptible glow still clinging to him.Despite the mortal years etched into his features, he carried a grace that spoke of a celestial origin. His build was strong, his broad shoulders and defined musculature a shadow of the angelic form he once bore."Do you mind elaborating?" Gabriel asked at last, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.The soldier's gaze turned distant, his lips curving into a small, wistful smile. "I met her in Sunhaven. A mayor's daughter. Strong-willed, kind-hearted, with a beauty I couldn't ignore if I tried. I barely realized I was falling for her—it just... happened. Like the way rivers find the sea. Naturally."Gabriel remained silent, his thoughts churning, but his attention never wavered."We spent time together, her and I," the soldier continued, his voice soft but steady. "And then, one night, the walls between us fell. We shared a moment so raw, so real, that I knew there was no going back."He glanced at Gabriel, his eyes flickering with something both joyful and bittersweet. "That's when it started. First, I noticed my strength waning. My wings—what once carried me through the skies without effort—refused to lift me. Within days, they began to wither. The feathers fell. Then the bones themselves became brittle, fragile. Finally, when they were nothing but dead weight, she helped me cut them away."The man leaned forward, pulling back his tunic to reveal two small stubs on his back. "This is all that remains," he said quietly. "A reminder of what I was—and what I chose to leave behind."Gabriel's gaze lingered on the stubs, his expression unreadable. "You feel no pain?""Not anymore," the soldier replied. "Not from the wings. And not from the fall."For a long moment, neither spoke, the fire crackling softly between them."Do you regret it?" Gabriel asked finally, his voice low but carrying the weight of his question.The soldier let out a slow breath, his gaze turning skyward. "No. Not for a second. My lady is worth every piece of myself I gave up."Gabriel's golden eyes flickered with something unspoken, his thoughts pulling inward.The soldier must have sensed it, for he smiled again, his tone lighter now. "It's funny, isn't it? To think that we, who were once so high above, can find something more beautiful down here."They sat in friendly conversation for a while longer, sharing fragments of their celestial past—memories of Lord Elyon, the angels they had both known, and the life Gabriel still clung to.---The next day, a shadow crossed the battlefield as Malachel descended, his golden wings glowing faintly in the morning light.He wasn't alone.Beside him stood a dragon, massive and menacing, its scales glinting like polished obsidian.Malachel's eyes swept over the battlefield until they landed on Gabriel. A smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered forward."Gabriel," he drawled, his tone laced with mockery. "I didn't know you were here. Did Lord Elyon send you, or is this freelance work?"Gabriel stood motionless amidst the chaos, his golden wings furled tightly against his back, his expression carved from stone. He didn't respond, his silence sharper than any retort.The battlefield seemed to hold its breath for a moment, the unspoken tension between the two angels crackling like a drawn bowstring.Malachel's smirk deepened, the dragon at his side rumbling a guttural growl that sent tremors through the ground. The beast shifted its weight, its obsidian scales gleaming in the dull light, eyes locked on Gabriel as though awaiting its master's command.The silence shattered with a deafening roar. The dragon lunged into the fray, its claws ripping through ranks of soldiers and scattering them like leaves before a storm. Malachel raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, Stormgard's forces surged forward, their morale surging under his commanding presence.Middleton's defenders scrambled into position, the anti-dragon devices strapped to their backs humming to life. Sharp, piercing tones filled the battlefield, designed to disorient the beast and buy precious seconds of reprieve.For a brief moment, the dragon faltered, its massive head jerking violently as the high-frequency tones emitted from the soldiers' anti-dragon devices pierced the air. The soundwaves disoriented the beast, forcing it to recoil mid-attack, its claws raking uselessly at the ground.But the reprieve was short-lived. With a guttural roar, the dragon's fury reignited, its glowing eyes locking onto one of the soldiers. It lunged forward, swiping with brutal precision.Cries of fear and pain echoed as the defenders struggled to hold the line, their formations buckling under the relentless assault. Despite their efforts, the tide of battle began to turn, the weight of the dragon's wrath threatening to crush them entirely.Gabriel moved at last, his golden eyes burning with quiet intensity. He stepped forward with measured calm, drawing his blade in one fluid motion."Nothing to say?" Malachel taunted, descending to the battlefield with a leisurely grace that belied the chaos around him.Gabriel's answer came not with words but with action. His wings flared, sending a shockwave of golden light rippling outward. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them, his blade arcing toward Malachel with lethal precision.Malachel met the strike with his own sword, the clash of their blades ringing out like thunder. Sparks flew as the force of the impact reverberated across the battlefield, momentarily halting the fighting around them.The two angels locked eyes, their blades pressed together, each testing the other's strength."You've gotten sloppy," Malachel sneered, his voice a venomous whisper as he pushed back against Gabriel's blade."And you've gotten predictable," Gabriel retorted, his tone ice-cold, as he twisted his blade and forced Malachel to retreat a step.The battlefield roared back to life around them, but for Gabriel and Malachel, the world had narrowed to the deadly dance of their swords.Meredith fought valiantly at the front, her blade carving through enemies with practiced precision, but the enemy's sheer numbers were overwhelming.Beside her, Fresia pushed herself to the limit. Her magic shimmered in protective barriers, her rose-petal-infused spells shielding Meredith and the soldiers around her. But every spell came at a cost. Fresia's Thysia mark burned painfully on her chest, a warning of the transformation drawing nearer."Fresia, fall back!" Meredith shouted, her voice edged with concern."I can't," Fresia replied through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her brow. "Not while you're in danger."The pain in her chest grew unbearable, her mark glowing brighter with each passing moment.Normally, the transformation process lulled marked individuals into a hypnotic state, drawing them to secluded locations where angels could oversee and hide the event.But this was a battlefield, and nothing about Fresia's transformation followed the usual rules.As the glow from her mark intensified, Fresia's knees buckled. She caught Meredith's horrified expression and knew there was no turning back.In a voice choked with both pain and urgency, she finally spoke the words she had buried deep for so long. "I love you, Meredith. I always have."Meredith froze, shock and disbelief flashing across her face. But before she could respond, Fresia's transformation began in full.The air around Fresia shimmered as her body twisted and grew. Scales began to ripple over her skin, her limbs elongating as her scream of pain turned into a roar. The soldiers nearest to her stumbled back in terror, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground."Beauty becomes the beast," Malachel remarked from above, his voice dripping with cruel amusement as he watched the transformation unfold.Gabriel, who had been fighting nearby, acted swiftly. He soared into the air, his golden wings cutting through the chaos, and grabbed Fresia's newly forming dragon body, pulling her away from the battlefield.Meredith, stunned but resolute, quickly passed command to Roderic. "Hold the line! Don't let them advance!" she ordered, her voice sharp despite the turmoil in her heart.Roderic nodded, his face grim. "Go. We'll manage."Without hesitation, Meredith followed Gabriel, her heart pounding as she pushed through the chaos to catch up.In the safety of the forest, Gabriel landed with Fresia, who now stood fully transformed—a majestic but distraught dragon. Her shimmering scales carried a faint hue of rose petals, a tragic reminder of the woman she once was.Meredith stumbled into the clearing, her breath catching as she stared at Fresia. "Fresia..." she whispered, her voice trembling.Gabriel placed a steadying hand on Meredith's shoulder. "We need to hide her. Malachel will hunt her now."---From a distant ridge, the twins observed the battlefield in silence, their imposing figures framed against the faint glow of the smoldering horizon."Unexpected," Cassiel remarked, his voice smooth and composed, carrying the cadence of a scholar pondering a riddle. His sharp gaze lingered on Fresia's dragon form, now fully emerging amidst the chaos. "An anomaly. A deviation from the prescribed rhythm, wouldn't you say?"Raphael's golden eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he finally spoke, his tone measured but tinged with unease. "It is more than a deviation. This is unrefined, as though the transformation itself lacked the precision of intent."Cassiel chuckled. "Ever the contemplative one, Raphael. Tell me, does this creature—this transformation—shake your convictions?"Raphael's expression darkened. "It reminds me that even we know so little," he admitted. "What is predictable about this?"Cassiel's smile widened, though his gaze remained distant. "Perhaps the heavens themselves left this one unplanned. A rare and exquisite oversight."The two angels lapsed into silence, the weight of their conversation lingering as they continued to watch the unfolding chaos.