'That's another day over.' The angel thought to herself after returning from the village. One of the few areas that was safe, thanks to the magical ward around it. Since Avacyn and Griselbrand had vanished, the barriers had started to fail. Darkness had begun to seep back into the plane and reclaim it. The forests tainted those who lingered in it for too long. Likewise the graveyards were no longer a resting place for the dead. Corpses reanimated, and spirits that had died in that plane, being pulled back to the mortal world. Other angels had begun to fall in the abscence of their leader. Their faith in the return of her waivering. Even Dorothea had begun to wonder if Avacyn would ever come back. In the meantime, she would do her best to uphold her teachings.
	She opened the door to the abandoned cathedral. She had made it into a sanctuary and her home, after the other less devoted angels had abandoned it. It was in need of some repairs, but other than that it was in decent condition. The stained windows were still intact and the altar was in excellent status. She dusted and cleaned the interior of the building once each week. She made her way to the altar, thinking the events of the day over in her head. Kneeling, she put her hands together and recited a prayer, the same one she did every day.
"Avacyn keeper of order and light. Archangel who graced us with your protection. Please, hear my prayers. Return to your faithful servants and illuminate the path once more." Dorothea paused, knowing this would turn out the same way it did every day. Another prayer that would go unheard and unanswered.
	How much longer would they have to wait, have to suffer? She had devoted her life to the teachings of her master. She had never once given into the same temptations as the other angels. It had gotten her nothing. She quickly purged the thoughts, realizing what she was thinking. But they came back, even stronger. Her will power was weakening. The woman almost unknowingly allowing the darkness of Innistrad into her heart with her thinking. She knew this was how angels fell, giving into petty frustrations and selfishness. She was dangerously close to falling as well. Dorothea forced the thoughts out with one final effort.
	Though she had forgotten to finish the prayer in her focus. She stepped down from the altar steps, a dismal expression on her face. Realizing that she would always have to live this life. The despair was enough to allow the darkness to fully take over. She smelled smoke. Was the cathedral under attack by demons? Her wings felt odd, were they? She dared a look to her right.  They were changing! A ring of magical smoke moved around them. It diverted her attention away from her altering feathered appendages. She threw her hands up in shock, which began to feel odd as well. Looking them over. The loss of a digit on each startled her even more. Her gentle and innocent fingers twisting into murderous claws. The skin on her arms becoming leathery, the hue turning black as a demon's soul. Bone extended from her forearms, shaping into an angular blade. Holes formed in the middle of the sharp things. Dorothea shut her eyes, trying to pretend this wasn't happening.
	The structure of her wings no longer bore a resemblance to anything angelic. They were now a thin, bloody red membrane, reinforced by slender pseudo arms. The patterns were like an abstract spider's web. They fanned out lengthwise. She didn't bother to look down, out of fear for what she'd see. Her feet growing, three of her toes merging as the rest sprouted large talons. Another pair of spikes springing up on her heels. It tore apart her sandals, the same black scales making their way up her legs. The skirt of her toga became ragged at the edges, her body growing. The clothing starting to pull tighter against it. Extra joints formed in her legs, Dorothea's stance altering a bit. Though she was able to easily keep her balance, as if she had always had such anatomy. She risked opening an eye to see how much her body had changed. She saw her hands again, nothing like they had been.
	Was she becoming a demon? She had heard of angels who had neglected their prayers, and had been twisted by the darkness into evil creatures. But how could this be happening to her, she had never forgotten to say her grace. And then it hit her, she hadn't finished the one for today. In a desperate hope to reverse the changes, the angel began to pray in her head. 'Please Avacyn, save me from this fate. Spare your most devoted of servants.' She pleaded. Nothing, the changes did not stop.
'Avacyn do not neglect me!' She yelled in her head begging, her thoughts turning to frustration.
'Why do you not answer me? What have I done wrong?' The thoughts soon boiled over into growing contempt.
'I demand you answer me! I will not be ignored by you any longer!'
And finally overwhelming rage and hatred.
"I am done being your petty servant! You have shunned and refused to acknowledge my selfless deeds for too long!" Dorothea yelled, the hatred starting to overpower her thoughts.
	Greyish scales traveled up her thighs and over her stomach all the way to her chest. The ones on her arms moving towards her shoulders, to meet the ones at her breast bone. They converged on her neck, which lengthed. The beginnings of a tail forming from her spine. The angel's face starting to become angular, her gentle features being replaced by far more fearsome ones. She tore at the straining remains of her toga, letting it hang from her hand, as if disgusted by even holding it. Her form grew even more, her clothing now the size of a wash cloth in comparison with her body. She gritted her sharpening teeth and closed her eyes. Snarling as a fury built inside her head. She could see pictures in her mind. No, she wasn't becoming a demon, she was becoming, a dragon. She ripped the choker from around her throat, her breasts fading away to hard scales. A trail of ridged spines traveled down the back of her neck. Dorothea could feel her head undergoing the final changes. The fledging tail that had begun to grow, now extending to its full length and size.
	Her face becoming like an arrow, her mouth stretching even further. Her nostrils opening and closing in rage. She could feel the horns rise up from her skull. They curved, like wicked oversized daggers. She tossed the remains of her clothing away, letting her arms hang at her side. The former angel striking a menacingly relaxed pose of untold anger. Opening her eyes in a malicious expression, the pupil and irises completely gone. They now glowed the color of hot embers. A small puff of hellish flame erupted from her mouth.
'Yes! I'll show everyone just how destructive I am! I will burn this entire plane down, until even Avacyn cannot ignore me!' She roared, lashing out with her tail at the altar. It cracked in half as it were made out of brittle wood. The Balefire dragoness letting herself fall onto all fours.
	She looked up at the statue of the archangel herself. Rearing up on her legs and letting loose a stream of flame at it. She watched with satisfaction as it burned, now an effigy in her eyes, rather than a sacred representation. The flames spread all over the cathedral in a matter of minutes. The great doors to the place of worship splintering as the dragoness burst free from both her sanctuary and her former life. She perched on the steeple of the building, roaring her triumph and rebirth. From here she could see the village she had frequented during her charitable days. She gave a wicked smile, she would destroy it for her entertainment, and then demand tribute from the villagers, or obliterate them if they did not comply. She jumped off the apex, leaving the burning building behind. She would make it her new lair. Another act of defiance to the archangel.
	The dragon did not hesitate to fire on the village once she was close enough. Loving the way these pathetic creatures ran as they were set ablaze. She used her tail to cave in rooftops as she flew over them. Delighted by the possibility that she had just caused a family to be crushed to death. She hoped that they only had been incapacitated, letting loose flame on the dilapidated house. Wanting the crippled inhabitants to burn to death with no way of escape. She landed in the center of the village. Noticing a man try and run from her in terror. But she was faster, grabbing him up with one hand. Dorothea tossed him as hard as she could into a wall, that had ironically been put up for defense. His body ragdolled as he impacted against the stone. The anatomy twisted and broken into positions no human body should ever be able to achieve naturally. She walked over on all fours to his corpse, tearing into it with her sharp teeth. Gulping down the man in record time. Her bloodlust was sated for the moment. Now she would demand tribute.
'You will submit to me or die in horrible agony!' She mind yelled to everything within the village.
'Your chances out there are even worse than in here!' The dragon half taunted, half persuaded. Some of the villagers seeming to realize this, abandoning their escape attempts. While others ignored her. Only to be eaten alive by zombies, moments after passing through the protective ward.
	She watched as her new 'subjects' crowded around her fearfully. Offering what little coin they had on their person to the dragoness. Dorothea grinned evily, she would make this plane hers. This was just a taste of what was to come, a delicious taste.