The woodland path stretched before them like a question mark, twisting through autumn leaves that crunched under their feet. Eleanor walked in silence, her eyes fixed on the ground, her wings hanging low.
She couldn't stop seeing it: her mother's lifeless eyes, her father's last breath. The easy way Mariam had ended two lives, like blowing out candles. The thought made her stomach twist, and she realized she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. I wonder if they have better tea here, or if I'm going to have to make my own. The sheer stupidity of the thought was the only thing stopping her from crying.
"Eleanor."
Meredith's voice was gentle, but Eleanor didn't look up. "Yeah?"
"You've been quiet for the past hour. I know yesterday was..." Meredith paused. "It was terrible. Do you want to talk about them, your parents? It helps some people."
Eleanor's throat tightened. "Maybe later," she managed to say.
Meredith nodded and didn't push. The quiet that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like the understanding of someone who knew words sometimes just made things worse.
They walked for another twenty minutes before the trees thinned, revealing a large village. Unlike Eleanor's cozy Sunridge, this place was built for wide-open spaces. Large houses sat on big pieces of land, connected by winding stone paths that curved between gardens and small apple orchards.
"Welcome to Haven's Rest," Meredith said. "My home."
Eleanor was about to respond when Meredith suddenly froze. The older angel's entire body became stiff, her head tilted like a hunting dog catching a scent.
"What's wrong?" Eleanor started to ask, but then she smelled it too.
Blood. Fresh and metallic, carried on the evening breeze.
"Stay close."
Meredith's voice had gone cold and serious. The gentle teacher vanished, replaced by someone harder, dangerous. There was a flicker of deep pain in Meredith's pale blue eyes, quickly masked by rage.
They followed the scent to a small cabin at the edge of the village. The door hung off its hinges, broken inward like breadcrumbs in a dark fairy tale.
Eleanor's stomach clenched. "A Black Angel."
"And it's still here. They're territorial. They never leave the kill until we force them out."
Meredith raised her right hand. Water formed from the air, shaping a clear blue staff that hummed with power. Eleanor watched, fascinated, as water droplets spun around the weapon like liquid lightning. This was Divine Art in action.
"Stay behind me," Meredith ordered, her voice low. "And do exactly as I say. This isn't training."
They stepped through the broken doorway.
The cabin looked like a slaughterhouse.
Blood painted the walls in wide streaks, pooled on the floor, and dripped from overturned furniture. Eleanor covered her nose; the coppery smell made her stomach churn.
"Whoever lived here put up a fight," she whispered.
"Not enough of one." Meredith's grip tightened on her staff. "Black Angels don't leave survivors. They like to finish the job." She didn't look at Eleanor, but her next words were sharp with personal memory. "They leave nothing behind but ghosts."
CRASH!
The wall exploded inward.
Through the broken pieces stepped a nightmare.
The Black Angel stood seven feet tall, his pale gray skin like polished stone. Muscles rippled across his bare chest, and his black wings stretched unnaturally wide, brushing the ceiling. But it was his smile that froze Eleanor's blood: too wide, too eager, like a child about to pull the wings off a butterfly.
"Well, well, well." His voice was smooth like silk but rough like broken glass. "More angels came to play with me."
His red eyes fixed on Meredith first, judging her size and strength. Then they slid to Eleanor, his grin widening even more.
"You..." He tilted his head, studying her with unsettling focus. "There's something different about you, little angel. Your power... it's hidden, isn't it? Sealed away?" He licked his lips. "I wonder what you taste like when you scream."
Eleanor felt ice in her veins, but her anger burned even hotter. If I'm going to die, I hope I get a decent last word. "Try me and find out," she spat.
"Eleanor!" Meredith's warning came too late.
The Black Angel moved.
One moment he stood across the room. The next, his claws were inches from Eleanor's throat.
She threw herself sideways, hitting the floor hard as his sharp talons scraped the wall where her head had been. Rolling to her feet, she barely had time to gasp before Meredith was there, her staff crackling with blue energy.
The weapon struck the Black Angel's ribs with a sound like thunder, sending him stumbling backward through the hole he'd made.
"Stay down!" Meredith shouted as she jumped after him.
Eleanor didn't listen.
Snatching up her fallen axe, she charged outside just in time to see the Black Angel recover. He pulled out two daggers that gleamed with an oily shine. Poison, she realized with a chill.
"Let's dance, water witch," he snarled.
He lunged at Meredith, his blades moving in deadly patterns. She met him head-on, her staff spinning in complex arcs, blocking his attacks while shooting jets of powerful water at his face and chest.
Eleanor saw her chance.
While the Black Angel was busy fighting Meredith, she lifted her father's axe and threw it with all her strength.
The blade cut deep into his back with a wet thunk.
The Black Angel's scream of rage shook the nearby windows. "You little brat!" He spun, yanking the axe free. Blood ran down his back in dark streams. "I'm going to peel your skin off strip by strip."
A whip of water hit him across the face, snapping his head back.
Meredith's eyes glowed now, surrounded by a fierce blue light that made the air shimmer. She launched herself into the air, her wings beating once before she dove like a striking hawk.
As she came down, she whispered something Eleanor couldn't hear. Suddenly, long, thin arms of water burst from the ground, wrapping around the Black Angel's arms and legs.
Meredith landed beside him, her staff already moving.
The first hit punched through his chest with a sound of breaking bones.
The second shattered his ribs.
The third and fourth came so fast they blurred.
Eleanor watched, both fascinated and horrified, as Meredith beat the creature into the earth. This wasn't the patient teacher; this was a killer, careful and never stopping.
"Hey..." Eleanor stepped forward, placing a hand on Meredith's shoulder. "I think he's dead."
Meredith froze mid-strike, her staff raised. The glow faded from her eyes as she blinked, as if waking from a dream.
They both looked down at the dead body.
The Black Angel's upper body was ruined with broken bones and torn flesh. His blood soaked the earth.
Meredith slowly stood up straight, breathing hard. Eleanor offered her hand, helping her stand.
A long silence stretched between them.
"He didn't seem that strong," Eleanor said finally.
Meredith wiped blood from her cheek. "He wasn't. But I was here. If you rely on your axe alone, you'll be dead slowly, or worse, corrupted into one of them. That's why we unlock your Sun powers now."
Eleanor blinked. "How did you know I had Sun powers?"
"All Ascendant-rank guards learn to sense hidden abilities," Meredith said, stretching her shoulders. "Divine Arts are our answer to a goddess's Divine Rite. Your mother had one, Sunfire. We call your bloodline the Solar Line."
"Solar Line," Eleanor whispered. "That's why Mariam killed her. She called us Sun Angels."
"Exactly. Sun Angels are the greatest natural threat to their kind. Your power's been sealed since birth, which is why Mariam didn't sense it. It needs a trigger, and the Zenith Guard doesn't wait for things to happen naturally." Meredith started walking toward the village. "We're changing that. Right now."
Eleanor hurried after her. "How?"
Meredith smirked, the predatory expression returning. "By making you wish you'd stayed in your tea shop. Get used to pain, kid. It's the only application process we have left."
The training field behind Meredith's house was wide and flat, surrounded by tall oak trees. It was perfect for combat, and for falling.
Meredith turned, her expression changing again. Any trace of gentleness was gone. This was the face of a true warrior.
"Attack me."
Eleanor hesitated only a moment before charging, her axe raised.
CLANG!
Meredith's staff blocked the blow easily, twisting to send the axe flying. Before Eleanor could react, a kick to her ribs sent her sprawling to the ground.
"Too slow," Meredith said. "Again."
Eleanor pushed herself up, clenching her teeth. This time she faked a move to the left before striking right. Only for Meredith to already be behind her. A sharp hit between her shoulder blades sent her face-first into the dirt.
"Better," Meredith admitted as Eleanor spat out grass. "But you're still thinking too much. Fighting isn't like chess; it's about instinct."
Eleanor glared, but picked up her axe. "Again."
Meredith smiled, the first real one since training began. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear."
As Eleanor lay wheezing in the dirt, bruised and exhausted, Meredith started walking back toward the house.
"Hey, wait, that's it?" Eleanor called out, spitting out a clump of grass. "You're just going to beat my ass and leave?"
Meredith didn't stop, waving a hand over her shoulder. "We're done for the day. You don't unlock a sealed Divine Art in one evening. Now get up."
Eleanor pushed herself to her knees, rubbing her aching side. "So I get broken ribs and no dinner plan? Great. Peak Angel life."
"Welcome to the Guard," Meredith called back, her voice dry. "The pay is terrible, but the job security is great because everyone else dies first."
Eleanor watched her go, a genuine, tired smirk twisting her lips. She was something else now. Something harder. She just had to figure out what.