The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Eleanor's room. She lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, still wrapped in disbelief.
A Guardian.
The golden "Z" emblem on the pristine uniform folded beside her bed glinted faintly. Just looking at it made her chest puff out a little, then quickly deflate. Right, don't trip on your own feet, Eleanor.
A soft but firm knock came at the door.
"Eleanor, you awake?" came Meredith's voice, already sounding like she'd run three laps and brewed coffee.
"Yeah," she called back, sitting up and stretching her wings. "I'm up."
"Good. Get your Zenith Guard uniform on and meet me out front. We're heading to headquarters to meet the Ascendant ranks."
Eleanor pulled the black robe over her shoulders. It fit perfectly, like it was tailored for her. As soon as she fastened the sash, a strange sense of confidence settled over her. This was real. She was a god slayer.
Outside, Meredith waited near the gate, arms folded and wings tucked neatly. She looked like she'd been sculpted from pure efficiency.
"There you are," Meredith said. "Thought you got your robe stuck."
Eleanor gave her a dry look. "I'm in a good mood today. Don't ruin it, at least not until after I meet the Ascendants."
"I will make no such promises," Meredith replied, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Let's walk. We'll take the scenic route through the outer villages first."
They set off, the path leading them through a humble village nestled at the forest's edge. Buildings were cracked, and the winged residents looked thin and weathered. But they still bowed respectfully as the two Zenith Guards passed.
That respect made Eleanor stand a little straighter. Not too much, though. Wouldn't want to accidentally impersonate a peacock.
As they crossed the village square, Meredith suddenly slowed. Two villagers near the well were speaking in hushed, urgent tones.
"It wasn't just any Black Angel," said one, an older angel with a deep scar. "It was a high-tier one. They called him the Phantom Warden. Massive. Six and a half feet tall, built like a fortress, his wings darker than the void itself."
Eleanor glanced sideways at Meredith. "Should we be worried about that?" she whispered.
"Yes," Meredith said, her expression hardening. "Follow me."
She approached the two villagers. They noticed her Zenith Guard robe and immediately bowed low, relief flooding their faces.
"Oh, thank the Light," said the older one. "We were just about to send a messenger hawk. Please, you have to help us."
"We overheard," Meredith said curtly. "You mentioned a high-tier Black Angel?"
"Yes," he replied. "I saw him myself. He covers his tracks. The evidence just vanishes."
A younger villager stepped forward, clearly shaken. "I saw him too. He moves like a phantom; fast and silent. He took three villagers last night. No screams were heard, no blood. They just… vanished."
Meredith listened with practiced calm. Eleanor, however, felt a cold dread creep up her spine. Vanished?
Meredith nodded. "We'll handle it."
As Meredith turned away, she cast Eleanor a meaningful glance. "Looks like we've got a detour," she said grimly. "We're going hunting for the Phantom Warden."
"The Phantom Warden?" Eleanor blinked. "I thought he was just a legend, a story to keep young angels from wandering too far."
Meredith's expression didn't change. "Legends don't make villagers disappear. If he's even half what the records claim, he's dangerous and cunning."
"But where do we even start? He's not leaving tracks, right?"
Meredith turned toward the older villager. "You. Walk us through what you saw. Precise details. Time, location, anything unusual."
"It was just after sunrise, about a week ago. I was helping rebuild the eastern fence when I saw something move along the treeline. A tall figure, dark wings, broad shoulders. I thought it might be a Guardian patrol until he vanished mid-step. Like the light itself bent around him."
Meredith's eyes narrowed.
The younger villager stepped forward. "We've lost six people in total. He doesn't just vanish; he chooses precisely when to be seen."
"There's more," the younger villager added, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "He leaves something behind. No feathers, no blood. But Symbols, burned into trees and carved into stone. One of them looked like an inverted halo."
That got Meredith's immediate attention.
"An inverted halo," she repeated quietly, her voice sharp with recognition. "Divine corruption. That symbol is a ritual mark. It means he wasn't just killing; he was trying to taint the area."
She turned to Eleanor, her expression deadly serious. "Cliffside woods. That's our target zone."
"What about the symbols?" Eleanor asked.
"If he's leaving marks," Meredith said, already moving toward the forest edge, "he's either baiting us or marking territory. Either way, we flush him out and end this before more innocent people disappear."
They moved swiftly through the undergrowth, wings folded low, weapons ready. The morning sun began to cast strange shadows through the tree canopy. The woods twisted around them, making Eleanor feel like she was walking through a funhouse mirror maze.
One second, Eleanor stood beside Meredith, her axe drawn. The next, the world blinked, and she was alone.
Gone was the steady sound of her mentor's footsteps. Gone was the familiar forest trail.
The Phantom Warden had separated them. Enough to make Eleanor's stomach do a nervous little flip.
The trees were taller, more twisted, their shadows impossibly long for morning light. Even the air felt wrong, thin and sterile.
"Meredith?" Eleanor called out, her voice echoing strangely.
No answer. Only oppressive silence.
And then, "You shine bright, but not bright enough."
The voice curled around her like smoke, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. It sounded like someone scraping rusty nails across a chalkboard, inside her skull.
She spun, axe raised defensively.
Nothing.
Then, a flicker of movement.
He emerged from the shadow of a tree that cast no shadow, the Phantom Warden himself. His white eyes gleamed like twin moons in the artificial gloom. His massive wings seemed to drag the very light behind him, leaving trails of darkness.
"Why do you serve them?" his voice whispered. "The ones who send children to die? The angels who believe themselves righteous?"
Eleanor's grip tightened on her weapon. "I serve to protect the innocent."
"Innocent?" He laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Your parents died screaming under their banner, and the Light did nothing. Mariam wants you angry. Rage makes you so much easier to read."
She lunged without thinking, her axe cutting through empty air.
He'd moved again, blinking through the twisted light. A flicker to her right, his wingtip vanishing behind a gnarled tree trunk.
"You don't belong to the Light," he whispered from the shadows. "You belong to grief. You belong to loss. You belong... to her."
She felt the impact before she saw him. Clawed fingers slammed into her back, sending her tumbling into a moss-covered mound of roots. Her robe tore. Her wings screamed with pain.
But she stood anyway. Apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment.
"You think that hurt?" she growled, spitting dirt. "Try harder."
The Warden appeared fully this time. His form became solid with a hiss of heat-distorted air. Where his feet touched the ground, the grass withered black. He's literally killing the grass. What a jerk.
"I'll peel back those wings and see what's left beneath that righteous fire," he snarled.
Eleanor stared at him, breathing hard. Her hands trembled, not with fear, but with barely contained fury. A furnace had just been lit inside her, and it was quickly reaching its breaking point.
"You want to see my fire?" she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
She closed her eyes.
Her mind went to the clearing where everything changed. Her mother's broken body. Her father's final breath. The smell of smoke and blood. The pain wasn't fuel. It was the match.
Divine Art: Sunfire ignited.
Her body exploded in golden radiance, waves of divine heat radiating outward. The flames wrapped around her axe, her arms, her wings, transforming her into something between angel and living flame. I probably looked like a very angry, very shiny Christmas ornament.
The Phantom Warden pulled back, his white eyes widening in genuine surprise.
"That power!" he hissed, his voice now laced with alarm. "You haven't earned the right to wield Sunfire!"
"I earned this," Eleanor said, her voice resonating with divine authority. "Every bruise. Every sleepless night. Every tear I refused to shed."
She launched herself at him with explosive speed. This time, he didn't disappear fast enough.
The first strike carved across his chest, divine fire searing through corrupted flesh with a sickening sizzle. The second sliced deep into his side.
He roared, but she was already beneath him, slashing upward in a brilliant arc of Sunfire. She was a golden blur, a whirlwind of burning rage.
"You want to know what I've learned?" Eleanor shouted over the crackling flames. "Pain doesn't make you weak, it makes you unstoppable!"
The Warden tried to vanish again, his form beginning to shimmer, but she read his pattern. The moment his body started to disappear, she drove her axe into the exact space where he would reappear.
The blade connected with a sound like thunder, followed by a wet, tearing rip.
His form jerked, caught halfway between solid and mist.
Eleanor pressed her advantage, Sunfire flaring brighter and hotter. With a final, primal scream, she drove the axe clean through his torso, divine flames consuming him from within.
The Phantom Warden didn't scream. He simply looked at her with bewildered respect.
"She will... remember you for this..." he whispered, his voice fading with his existence.
Then he crumbled into ash, scattering like black snow on an unfelt wind.
The warped reality around them shuddered and collapsed. The twisted trees straightened, and normal daylight returned. Eleanor dropped to one knee, her body still glowing faintly. Her robe was torn, her hands ached, but she was alive.
A heavy thud announced Meredith's landing beside her. She looked at Eleanor, then at the scorched earth where the Warden had fallen. "Took me longer than I'd like to break through his spatial distortion," Meredith muttered, sounding annoyed. "He separated us deliberately; he wanted you isolated."
She looked down at the scattered ashes, then at Eleanor with something approaching pride. "I didn't expect you to handle a high-tier Black Angel alone on your first day. You fought well." Her expression grew serious. "Did he say anything before the end?"
Eleanor nodded, wiping soot from her face. "He knew about Mariam. About me. He'd been watching."
Meredith's jaw tightened. "Then the real battle is beginning."
Eleanor stood, brushing ash from her torn sleeve. Despite her exhaustion, her eyes burned with newfound determination. "I'll be ready for whatever comes next."
Meredith gave her a rare, sharp smile. "You will be. But first..." She pointed toward the path leading away from the village. "We have Ascendant ranks waiting at headquarters. They'll want to hear about this encounter, and more importantly, they'll want to see what you can do."
They walked side by side through the dappled forest light, leaving behind only scorched earth and the broken symbol of an inverted halo burned into the ancient roots.