The silver radiance faded slowly, leaving a faint shimmer in the night air. The soldiers on the northern wall still stared — some awed, some trembling, others crossing their chests in reverence or fear.
Celestia stood in the midst of the courtyard, her bare feet touching the frost-covered stones.She looked around — snow, firelight, iron walls, and men who had seen too much war.Her first breath of mortal air made her chest rise slowly; she blinked, almost as if tasting life for the first time.
"So cold… and yet, alive," she murmured.
Arden approached, his black cloak trailing behind him, his golden eyes calm but alert. Every step carried the weight of discipline — a warrior's confidence, not arrogance.
The air thickened as their auras clashed — her divine radiance against his tempered Qi. The very frost on the ground began to steam.
"State your purpose," Arden said flatly. "You appear from the heavens, uninvited, bearing the same light as those who tried to destroy my home."
Celestia tilted her head, curious. "Straight to the point. I expected defiance… not reason."
He didn't respond, only rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Very well," she said softly. "My name is Celestia. I am the Seventh Seraph of the Celestial Court."
Gasps rippled among the guards. Even Mira's tail froze mid-sway. Ryn's eyes narrowed, her instincts already screaming.
"Another Seraph?" she hissed. "We just buried one."
Celestia's gaze met hers briefly — no malice, only something unreadable. "You speak with hatred… but I can feel fear beneath it."
Ryn flinched, gripping her blade. "Stay out of my mind, angel."
"I didn't enter it," Celestia replied calmly. "I simply heard your heart."
Arden lifted a hand. "Enough."
Celestia turned to him again, her silver eyes soft yet piercing. "I have not come to fight, Duke of the North. I was sent to observe… to understand."
"To understand?" Arden's tone was sharp. "The heavens slaughter my soldiers, burn my skies, and you come here for understanding?"
Her wings folded behind her. "Perhaps I wish to know why Heaven failed."
That stopped him.
For a long moment, the wind howled between them. Then Arden's voice dropped, low and cold. "If that's true, then walk among us. Learn what your gods chose to ignore."
Celestia inclined her head slightly — a motion of both grace and humility. "Then… I shall begin."
The next morning, the northern fortress buzzed with silent awe. Word had spread — an angel was walking their halls.
Celestia moved through Wintercrest like a dream. Every step left faint motes of light on the ground. She watched the people — farmers carrying hay, blacksmiths forging swords, children playing in the snow.
Each sight made her expression soften a little more.
Selene, the priestess, walked beside her, cautiously observant. "You're not what I expected of a Seraph."
"What did you expect?" Celestia asked gently.
"A voice of judgment. A blade in disguise."
Celestia smiled faintly. "Perhaps judgment is a kind of blindness. I wish to see instead."
They passed by the training yard, where Mira and Ryn sparred fiercely. The clang of steel rang through the air, followed by Mira's playful laugh as Ryn overextended and fell into the snow.
Celestia stopped to watch. "Such passion. Even in hardship, they fight with joy."
Selene folded her arms. "That's what mortals do — we struggle, fail, bleed… and laugh anyway."
Celestia looked up at the gray sky. "In Heaven, we do none of those. Perhaps that is why we envy you."
From the high balcony of the fortress keep, Arden watched silently.
He had assigned Celestia quarters within the inner citadel — partly to watch her, partly to test her sincerity.His instincts screamed caution, but his mind… was curious.
This being — this angel of light — didn't reek of divine arrogance. Instead, she looked almost human.
When night fell, he entered her chamber without announcement.
Celestia stood by the window, gazing at the falling snow, her silver hair reflecting the moonlight.
"You move like a ghost," she said softly, without turning.
"Habit," Arden replied. "I prefer knowing what my guests are doing."
She smiled faintly. "You mean spies."
"Call it security."
Arden leaned against the wall. "Tell me something, Celestia. Do you really think Heaven will forgive you for what you're doing now?"
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "I did not ask for forgiveness."
"Then why obey them?"
"Because disobedience is not freedom. Understanding is."
Her words lingered in the air, thoughtful and dangerous.
Arden studied her carefully. "You sound like someone who's already questioning her gods."
Celestia stepped closer, stopping a few feet away. Her aura shimmered faintly — not oppressive, but serene.
"And you," she said quietly, "sound like someone who once believed in them."
For the first time, Arden's gaze wavered.
Memories flickered — his old world, the prayers he once uttered, the temples he once guarded as a mortal monk in Murim. His faith, long eroded by the cruelty of both men and heaven.
"Once," he admitted. "A lifetime ago."
Celestia's eyes softened. "Then perhaps… we are not so different."
Later that night, as Celestia rested, faint light danced across the northern skies — auroras shimmering like wings.
Arden stood alone atop the fortress tower, watching them. His senses were sharp — too sharp to miss the faint ripple of energy pulsing within the heavens.
He murmured to himself, "They're watching her."
And indeed, high above, unseen by mortal eyes, the other Seraphs gazed down from their thrones — expressions grim.
"She hesitates.""She sympathizes.""If she falls, Heaven's order will crumble."
The Seraph of Flame clenched his burning fist. "Then perhaps… we must act before compassion becomes rebellion."
And so, in that silent celestial hall, a new decree was forged — one that would pit Heaven's own against their sister.
In the mortal realm, Celestia dreamt — of fire, of judgment, of light breaking into color.And in that dream, she heard a voice — soft, distant, but unmistakably human.
"Do you regret descending?"
She smiled faintly in her sleep.
"No… not yet."