Celestial Gambit

After the festivities had ended and the guests departed, Meredith changed into her hunting gear with fresh excitement. She caught sight of Fresia waiting outside her chambers, and as she adjusted her cloak, Meredith grinned.

"Now, let's get to the fun part of the evening," she said, barely containing her enthusiasm. "I've had enough courtly chatter to last a lifetime."

Fresia, ever loyal, nodded and followed without a word.

They mounted their horses, riding out into the thick forest that lay beyond the kingdom walls. Moonlight filtered through the trees as they ventured deeper into the mountains, each hoofbeat echoing against the silence of the night.

The thrill of the hunt quickened Meredith's pulse as she caught sight of a few bats darting overhead, their wings casting fleeting shadows across the forest floor.

Spotting her target, Meredith drew her bracelet, transforming it to the crimson bow, the thrill of the chase sharpening her focus. But as she loses her arrow, her horse stumbles on a hidden root, nearly throwing her from the saddle.

She gasped, bracing herself for the impact—only to feel a shimmering barrier surround her, absorbing the force of the fall. Looking up, she saw Fresia, her hand extended, a soft glow emanating from her fingertips.

The magical shield dispersed into delicate pink flower petals, floating gently before vanishing into the air.

Meredith steadied herself, marveling at the seamless way Fresia had shielded her, and the faint scent of the petals that lingered, a soft contrast to the forest's earthy scent.

"You've saved me again, Fresia," Meredith murmured with a smile. She could see why she had chosen her as her right-hand maiden—a decision that felt like a lifetime ago.

Meredith had been fifteen, and Byron, the head defense minister, had brought forth ten young magicians, each skilled in their own right.

A seasoned warrior with a commanding presence, Byron stood tall and broad-shouldered, his weathered face marked by countless battles and hard-won victories. His steel-gray hair was cropped close, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his sharp jawline.

Despite the ruggedness of his features, his piercing brown eyes held a sharp intelligence and a spark of unwavering loyalty to the royal family.

Byron had personally chosen the magicians, focusing on traits that would complement the princess's own strengths and balance her weaknesses.

Each candidate had stood before her, some exuding confidence, others shy but resolute.

Meredith, dressed in boy's clothes today—a tailored tunic, fitted pants, and high boots—moved among them with a self-assured grace that bordered on regal.

The crisp lines of her outfit highlighted her athletic form, her movements exuding a boyish charm.

With her red hair tied back and a hint of mischief in her sharp gaze, she looked incredibly handsome, every bit the daring, unconventional princess she was known to be.

As she circled the candidates, a mischievous thought crossed her mind, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She let her gaze linger on each magician, her eyes glinting with a challenge, as if daring them to impress her.

She tilted her head, casting a roguish grin over her shoulder as she observed their nervous anticipation. It was clear her unusual attire was disarming them, adding an unexpected twist to the already intense selection process.

"Ladies," she began, her voice warm but commanding.

"How fortunate I am," she added with a graceful tilt of her head, letting her gaze linger, "to be surrounded by such talented… and exceptionally lovely maidens. I must express my gratitude for your presence here today. I am honored by your willingness to serve."

She paused, allowing her gaze to sweep over them with a hint of a playful smirk. "Now, as part of my evaluation, I'll need you to prove your fortitude and confidence. So," she continued, a sly smile curving her lips, "if you would kindly strip off your garments..."

"..."

The gathered young magicians exchanged bewildered glances, their cheeks turning various shades of red. They hadn't known if she was serious, but her tone had been light, teasing yet laced with a hint of authority.

The silence had stretched before Byron finally intervened, his voice exasperated. "Princess, enough with the games."

Meredith had rolled her eyes, giving a mock sigh of disappointment. "Very well," she said with a graceful nod. "Demonstrate your abilities for me."

With a wary glance at each other, the ten young magicians stepped forward, aligning themselves in a loose circle around her. At a nod from Byron, each magician raised a hand, preparing to demonstrate their shield spells.

They cast their magic, creating an array of protective barriers in various shades and textures—some glowed a steady blue, others flickered like fire, while a few gleamed with metallic brilliance.

But Meredith wasn't about to simply observe.

No, she intended to truly test them.

Without warning, Meredith's gaze flicked upward, a mischievous glint in her eye as she focused on the grand chandelier hanging above them.

The fixture was an exquisite, glowing orb of glass and crystal, suspended from intricate silver chains. The orb itself was large and majestic, each crystal facet catching and scattering light like stars.

The magicians exchanged uncertain glances, their shields flickering as they tried to anticipate her intentions. With a smooth, practiced motion, Meredith raised her bow, notching a spirit arrow with effortless precision.

In one swift movement, she released the arrow, sending it soaring toward the chandelier. The arrow struck dead-center, shattering the radiant orb into a spectacular cascade of glimmering shards.

Crystal fragments exploded outward, catching the light in a dazzling array of colors before they rained down like jagged daggers.

But rather than staying in one place, Meredith moved fluidly through the room, her steps light and graceful as she wove her way between the magicians.

She seemed to float, her movements deliberate yet seemingly effortless, like a dancer gliding across the floor.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she tested each shield, drifting close to each magician to see how they would react, her graceful form weaving between them like silk caught in the wind.

The magicians scrambled to keep up, each adapting their shield to protect her from the scattering shards in their own way.

One conjured a barrier of solid silver light that shimmered as it wrapped around her; another created a translucent, mist-like shield that absorbed the shards before they could reach her.

And then it was Fresia's turn. Calm and composed, she extended her hand, her magic summoning a soft, pink shield that shimmered like gossamer. It bloomed around Meredith in a graceful arc, holding the shards at bay with ease. The barrier absorbed the impact without a single tremor, strong yet somehow delicate in its appearance.

As the shards hit the shield's surface, they didn't simply fall; the entire shield began to dissolve, transforming into hundreds of soft, rose-pink petals that floated gently through the air, replacing the sharpness of the glass with a soft, fragrant beauty.

Meredith stood mesmerized, watching as the petals drifted around her in a delicate, swirling dance. The petals carried a faint, sweet fragrance, and the effect was unlike anything she had seen.

Fresia's shield was as powerful as it was enchanting, and Meredith felt an unexpected sense of calm within its embrace.

Byron cleared his throat, breaking Meredith's trance. "There you have it, Princess. Each candidate possesses a unique skill, but the decision is yours."

Meredith took one last look at the assembled magicians, her eyes lingering on Fresia.

Something about the quiet strength and grace with which she had cast her spell captivated her. Fresia's shield was not only strong but also beautiful.

"Thank you, ladies," Meredith addressed the group, her tone sincere. "Your strength and dedication are evident, and I am grateful for each of you. Alas, I must choose one and only one."

Her gaze lingered on one of them—a young magician with a quiet, composed demeanor.

Meredith's teasing smile softened as she stepped closer. "Tell me," she said, teasing, "what name fits someone as beautiful as you?"

The magician's cheeks flushed faintly as she dipped her head. "Fresia," she replied softly.

She looked at Fresia, her smile widening. "Fresia, if you are willing, I would be honored to have you serve as my handmaiden."

The other magicians looked on, some with disappointment, others with respect. Fresia's eyes widened in surprise, then she lowered her gaze, and nodded with a shy but grateful smile.

"Yes, Your Highness. It would be an honor."

From that day forward, Fresia became Meredith's closest companion. Their bond, born from that mesmerizing shield of rose petals, would only grow stronger with each trial they faced together.

Back in the present, Fresia brought her back to the moment, her voice cutting through the memory. "Where to next, Your Highness?"

Meredith adjusted her bow, a glint of excitement in her eyes. "Let's inspect that dragon killed earlier."

They rode further up the mountain, the silence growing heavier as they reached the spot where the dragon had last been sighted. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, the forest oddly quiet, as though holding its breath.

"Strange," Meredith muttered, scanning the surroundings. "It should be somewhere nearby…"

She studied the area carefully, her eyes narrowing as a faint shimmer caught her attention. Without a word, she notched an arrow, drawing back the bowstring. With precise aim, she released a spirit arrow, watching as it sailed through the air and struck something invisible. A faint ripple distorted the air, slowly revealing a concealed space hidden by magic.

"It's a hiding spell," Meredith whispered to Fresia, her tone filled with both intrigue and caution.

As the illusion dissolved, the sight before them was nothing they could have anticipated.

Standing beside the dragon's lifeless body was Raphael.

His face, usually an unbreakable mask of stoicism, was twisted in raw sorrow. A single tear traced a silent path down his cheek, his gaze fixed unflinchingly on the fallen creature before him. The quiet, heart-wrenching grief in his expression was like a blow, stark and utterly unexpected.

Meredith and Fresia froze, their breath catching. To see Raphael, an angel known for unshakable demeanor, overcome with such vulnerability stirred a deep unease within them.

Meredith took a cautious step forward, unsure if she should approach him or if this was a private sorrow too sacred to touch.

At the sound of her voice, Raphael glanced up, his expression briefly flickering with surprise. But the sorrow remained, etched deep in his gaze. He straightened, the familiar stoic mask returning to his features, though the shadow of pain lingered.

"You weren't supposed to be here," he said, his voice quiet but firm, the emotion reined in once more.

Meredith held his gaze, a flood of questions rising within her, her heart heavy with confusion.

"We didn't mean to intrude," she replied softly.

Raphael hesitated, his gaze drifting back to the dragon's lifeless form. His voice, when he spoke, was barely audible, almost reverent. "This creature… It was once a dear friend."

A silence fell over them, thick and electric. Meredith's mind raced, her pulse quickening as the implications of his words settled in.

As Raphael's gaze lingered on Meredith, a sudden change washed over him. His stoic mask was fully restored. Without warning, he turned toward the dragon's body, extending his hand.

A gust of energy surged around him, and in a swift motion, he unleashed a powerful wave that sent both Meredith and Fresia stumbling backward, nearly knocking them to the ground.

Meredith gasped, struggling to regain her balance as she shielded herself from the force of his energy. Fresia barely managed to keep her footing, reaching out instinctively to steady Meredith as the gust whipped around them, pushing them farther from the dragon's corpse.

In a single, seamless motion, Raphael gathered the dragon's body, lifting it as if weightless, his hands glowing with a strange, ethereal light.

His wings unfurled, wide and magnificent, casting shadows against the trees as he shot one last piercing look at the two women.

And then, with a powerful sweep of his wings, he ascended into the sky, the dragon's form cradled within his grasp. In a matter of seconds, he vanished into the horizon, leaving Meredith and Fresia stunned and breathless, the silence settling heavily around them.

Fresia looked at Meredith, her expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "Where would he take the dragon?"

Meredith's mind raced, still reeling from Raphael's abrupt departure and the intensity in his gaze. "I don't know," she replied slowly, her voice tinged with frustration and curiosity. "But I intend to find out."

The days that followed were spent in restless pursuit. Meredith couldn't shake the image of Raphael's sorrow, the pain in his eyes as he gazed at the dragon.

She knew there was more to this than she understood, something hidden.

The day after, guided by faint clues and her own intuition, Meredith searched through the nearby forests and mountains.

She and Fresia combed the wilds, pushing through brambles and scaling steep trails, their determination unwavering. Every step led her closer, though the journey was slow and arduous.

Finally, after days of relentless searching, she stumbled upon it—a hidden tomb nestled deep in a secluded glen, veiled by towering pines and twisted vines.

The entrance was carved into the mountainside, a simple stone archway that shimmered faintly in the fading light. She felt a chill as she stepped closer, sensing the powerful enchantments woven into the very stones that marked this place as sacred, perhaps even forbidden.

"This is it," Meredith whispered, her eyes tracing the stonework. "This is where he brought the dragon."

The tomb had an eerie, solemn beauty, its presence evoking a reverent silence that demanded respect. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cold stone.

As they turned to leave, Meredith cast one final look at the tomb, the weight of it pressing into her mind, as if it were etching itself into her memory. They then spent some time memorizing the tomb's location.

Twas yet another big day when the sun was shining brightly as Victoria's engagement ceremony started in the big hall.

People from all over Pyria and other places came to the ceremony, including important people from the Kingdom of Sunhaven, where Victoria's fiancé was from.

Prince Darien of Sunhaven stood beside her, tall and every bit the picture of theatrical regality. His golden cloak shimmered in the sunlight, embroidered with Sunhaven's insignia, and his attire was adorned with enough intricate details to rival a royal tapestry.

A jeweled brooch fastened his cloak at the shoulder, catching the light with every dramatic gesture he made. His movements were fluid and exaggerated, his hand sweeping toward Victoria with a flourish as if presenting her to an audience rather than offering support.

Despite the ostentation, there was an undeniable charm to his demeanor, his confident grin aimed not just at Victoria but at anyone who might be watching.

Victoria, as always, held herself with grace, though her lips tightened ever so slightly as she accepted the prince's hand. A hint of pride flickered in her eyes, tempered by what could only be described as resigned patience with her future husband's theatricality.

As Meredith watched her older sister, she knew the engagement was more than a mere union; it was to cement a strategic alliance.

After Pyria's failed attempt to conquer the Kingdom of Stormgard - its neighbor - their forces were now locked in a tense stalemate.

Sunhaven's alliance had become essential to bolster Pyria's defenses, as the tables had turned; Stormgard, once a peaceful nation, had risen in strength and seemed poised to retaliate.

Now, Stormgard appeared increasingly determined to expand its influence—perhaps even at Pyria's expense. Victoria's engagement would secure the powerful allies Pyria desperately needed to hold the line, but Meredith wondered about the cost her sister would pay.