Resurrection (Book Three of the Soul Forge series)

It was Yani all over again. Elda didn't see the attack until it was too late, and Julian was suddenly there, throwing her aside with no regard for his own life. She felt his blood speckle her cheek, saw his face contort into a rictus of pain.

A flash of lilac, running footsteps, and then captain Reiner leapt and slammed a boot into Cynthia's chest before Julian had even landed, her tight bun gone, dark hair streaming behind her. The Corrupted staggered backwards...

...Straight into the path of the spear she'd created.

Elda stumbled, landing heavily on her backside when the darkness pierced Cynthia's torso dead centre. Cynthia’s eyes rounded, her body jerking, every inch of shadow freezing in place. Only a second passed, just long enough to watch her try to breathe in, to watch blood bubble over her lips when she exhaled a ragged, wet breath.

And then Reiner swung a sword that wasn't hers, taking the witch's head in one violent blow. It flew through the air, bounced off the ground, and rolled to a stop at the feet of the Soul Forge. Cynthia’s body teetered, staying upright for a second, before collapsing.

The undead convulsed and fell, the darkness retracting. The Soul Forge corpse stumbled to its knees and slumped to the side, allowed peace at last.

Elda stared at her friends, broken and scattered, her home burning, her parents dead somewhere among the rubble. The day had turned to night, the sky reflecting the orange haze of the flames licking their way through the city. Even the palace was ablaze.

She crawled towards Julian, her whole body trembling in the absence of the magic that had overflowed inside her. The side of his armour had been torn open, blood pouring from the deep slash, but the sob that escaped her was one of relief when she realised he hadn't been impaled like Cynthia.

"No tears," he groaned. "You'll make me cry."

"You idiot," she sniffled. "You could have died."

"And you would have if I hadn't jumped in," he replied. His face was pale, the silver in his eyes faded with the blood loss, but his breaths were even.

"We need to get you to a healer."

"There's one in my unit," Reiner said over her shoulder, keeping her mace levelled towards Abraxos’ eyes. She put two fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle, signalling to one of the soldiers already hurrying to move the wounded. Their hair was a startling blue, their skin more muted but still vibrant. Violet eyes surveyed Julian's injuries without needing to be asked.

"We have a medical tent being set up near the gates," the fae said, bending to lift the vampire as gently as they could. "Any other wounded need to be brought there, if you're able to help, Your Grace."

"Of course." She kissed Julian's cheek gently. "Don't die."

"I'll try not to," he promised, allowing the soldier to help him hobble away. Elda rushed to the rest of her friends, finding Irileth and Aetheria already picking Gira up out of the rubble. Brady groaned from her prone position on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Elda asked, watching Syd clop forwards and sniff at the burns coating the arm Abraxos had spiked.

Elda looked round to see the male elf still sitting on the ground, both hands pressed to his chest, wheezing breaths audible even from several feet away. His eyes were wide, fixed on Cynthia's headless body.

The princess raised her dagger, letting Reiner stoop to lift Brady to her feet. Abraxos didn't even sneer in her direction, too busy watching the wind tousle his counterpart's bloodstained crimson locks.

Irileth let Aetheria take Gira, padding towards Elda and taking the dagger from her gently. "Go to your husband," she pleaded softly. "I can watch him and the other one." She inclined her head towards Arden's unconscious form.

Elda nodded and started towards the one body she couldn't bear to look at, her knees trembling with every step. But once she saw his face, peaceful and still, she sat beside him and smoothed his pale hair back from his forehead. His eyes were closed, lips parted slightly. If it weren't for the pallor, he could simply be asleep.

She set about carefully moving his wings so they were tucked around him, positioning his hands so they were clasped over his heart, the way all royalty were laid to rest.

"I'm sorry," she wept, pressing her forehead against his chest plate. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"I'll make sure your parents are shown respect," Reiner promised from behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Do you need me to move him?"

"Not yet," she sniffled, not lifting her head. "I need some time."

The captain's footsteps faded, leaving Elda to mourn the Soul Forge just as the first flakes of snow began to fall. She sobbed into his chest, ignoring the cold frost starting to settle on both of them. She barely felt the wind, numbed as she was by grief.

Irileth stayed silently beside her, protecting her from the injured Corrupted for hours. Nobody came to aid Abraxos, though Gira returned sporting fresh bandages and carted Arden off in a pair of binding cuffs he'd found. Abraxos never asked for help.

Elda was only roused by the sound of a quiet sob nearby. She turned to see Cerilla, her butterfly wings fluttering slowly, standing beside Aurora. She saw her creation laid on the ground, frost forming a halo around him, but made no move to approach. She chose instead to bury her face in Aurora's embrace. Irileth joined them, wrapping her arms around the smaller Spirit and holding tight while her shoulders shook.

"Die," Abraxos hissed the moment his guard was distracted. Elda turned to find that mace pointing at her, lightning flickering between its spikes. She stared, weighed down by grief, watching the moment play in slow motion. The lightning arced towards her, but her body wouldn’t respond.

Movement registered beside her, and something dark hurtled towards Abraxos, striking him between the eyes and knocking him flat onto his back. When the lightning fizzled out before it could touch her, Elda realised whatever hit him had knocked him out.

"Are you alright?"

Had she imagined that voice? Was her mind so broken by grief that it was forcing her to hallucinate?

A gloved hand touched her cheek, turning her head. Everything faded into silence, only her heart pounding in her ears. Her breaths were quick, each one lancing sharply through her chest. Tears stung her eyes, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"Is... Is this real?" she stammered, reaching up. Her fingers were so cold she couldn't feel them.

"It's real," Sypher answered, catching her hand and pressing it against his bare neck, the same place he'd pressed it so long ago in Gira's garden. His skin was cool, just beginning to warm. "I'm real." His eyes were so bright, the black seeming to sparkle, his one red iris burning hotter than the flames eating their way through the city.

"How?" Elda whispered, her voice cracking.

"I don't know." He looked down at himself. "I died. Really, truly died. I remember nothing. I saw nothing." His brow furrowed, throat bobbing when he swallowed. "Who did I hurt?"

"No-one." She laid her cheek against his chest, closing her eyes. Tears squeezed out from between her closed lids when he held her close, his damaged wings folding around her despite how much it must hurt. "You didn't harm anyone."

"Dear one?" The voice was small, all three Spirits stunned and staring. Cerilla stepped forwards, hesitant to approach.

"Cerilla?" Sypher murmured.

"You live," she whispered, hands covering her mouth, more liquid spilling down her face. "You live." She dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for not seeing. I was blind to all of this until Aurora came for me. I couldn't sense you to find you, and Aeon claimed to know nothing of your location." She bowed lower, forehead almost touching the floor. "I am sorry for all the hurt I have caused, the pain you've endured, and that I never told you how you were created."

"I know." Sypher held Elda at arms length, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She moved back, letting him get slowly to his feet. He was still injured from their time in the caves, and the new wounds he'd sustained under Cynthia's control only added to his pain, but he rose without help.

It still didn't feel real, watching him hobble over to the Spirit and take her hands, urging her to rise to her feet. Cerilla stood and looked up at him, so he crouched to be eye level with her.

"Did Aeon keep you from telling me the truth?" he asked softly. She nodded. "Did you tell me the moment you were able to?" She nodded again. "Do you believe I should be destroyed?" This time her head shook. "Then I forgive you."

She collapsed against him, sobbing into his shoulder like a frightened child. Elda stayed sat on the ground, waiting for him to disappear, to collapse, to be snatched away from her again.

But he remained even when Cerilla's tears had dried. He watched her wipe her eyes, laying a gentle hand on the top of her head to ruffle her curls. His smile was pained, but warm.

Reiner returned and skidded to a halt, staring at the Soul Forge crouched before Cerilla. She looked between him and Elda, then nodded once and moved to help the princess up. She stood on shaky legs, shivering from head to toe.

"I wanted to wait, Your Grace, but the weather is turning,” the captain warned. “The city is in ruins and we have very little shelter. You should go inside. Your parents’ bodies will be protected by the dragons for the night."

Sypher's head lifted and he turned to them, the colour that was just returning draining from his face in a second. "The king and queen are dead?" he asked. Reiner nodded. "Was it me?"

"No!" Elda yelled before the captain could say yes. "You killed nobody. Do you understand? You did not kill them. Cynthia abused your power and killed them herself." Her voice trembled, hands balled into fists.

"Aye," Reiner agreed. "The corpse she dragged around with her was no more you than I am. You were a victim. The soldiers know it too."

Sypher stood slowly, limping towards Elda. He folded her into a hug, stroking her soot-streaked hair. "I'm sorry."

Something brushed against her consciousness, something dark and familiar. When she pulled back, Vel was looking down at her. The bond between them pulsed with the first signs of life since Hephaestus stripped his power. It felt like the first light after years in shrouded in gloom.

"Varro," he whispered, the sound no more than a sigh on his lips. He relaxed against her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Beneath her ear, his heart thumped, loud and steady and alive. "I'm so glad you're okay."

In his arms, Elda shattered.