Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

Elda woke up to raindrops on her face just before dawn. She sat up to find Sypher and Julian still asleep, both of them unbothered by the light shower. Sypher had returned the cloak to her at some point during the night, and she woke up to it draped over her like a blanket.

Julian stirred, noticing she was awake and rubbing his eyes. Sypher didn’t move, seemingly in a deep sleep. The Vampire tiptoed across the clearing to sit beside her, pulling up the hood on his worn leather jacket.

“Morning. How was your first night on the forest floor?”

“Not as bad as I expected,” she admitted. “My back hurts, but I feel rested enough. Sypher seems to be out cold.”

“He will be. His body needed the rest to replace all the blood I drained.” He hesitated for a moment. “You know, he’s my closest friend. I met him about four hundred years ago, right around the time Nova was destroyed.”

“I’m surprised he has friends.”

Julian chuckled, but the sound was troubled. “I worry about him. I’m not sure how to say what I want to say in a way you’ll understand, without telling you too much.” She waited patiently for him to find the right words. “Sypher is part of my family, Elda. My bloodkin. When you learn what he doesn’t want you to know, I need you to remember that.”

“Why is everyone so convinced I’m going to do him wrong?” she ground out, her mood souring.

“Hear me out, please.” She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Whatever the Spirits showed the Keepers before you, all of them made the same choice. That choice damaged him beyond repair in so many ways, I can’t even begin to explain. When the choice is presented to you, please don’t forget this conversation.”

“You haven’t said anything different to Irileth or Sypher yet.”

“Sypher is a person. More than his demon soul. More than his battles or his titles. He hurts and bleeds like any other, even if he doesn’t technically die. He speaks of himself like he’s a monster, and the Spirits treat him that way. The Keepers treated him that way too, even when they thought they were being nice. I’m asking you to keep in your mind how much it would hurt you, if you were in his position. You’ll understand when your Spirit tells you the truth.”

“I’ll remember,” she promised, her eyes straying to the Soul Forge sleeping on the ground next to the burnt out fire. The sun was coming up slowly, evaporating the clouds before the rain could become heavier. Elda stood to wake him while Julian disappeared to find breakfast for them. Calling Sypher’s name didn’t work, so she knelt beside him in the dirt. His eyes were closed, lashes fanning his cheeks. She marvelled at how smooth his skin was when he wasn’t scowling at her, admiring his jawline for a second before she reached out to shake his shoulder gently.

His eyes flew open, a gloved hand grasping her collar and pinning her against the ground in an instant. The cold chill of a blade touched her throat when he settled above her, a look of alarm plastered across his face. The red rings of his irises were paper thin against the black, showing that he was more demon than man.

“Good morning,” Elda gasped. He blinked, realised what he was doing, and immediately withdrew the knife.

“Sorry.”

“...We’re going to need to work on this,” she remarked.

“Seems like it.” He hadn’t moved off of her, still startled by the wake up call. She was glad to see the red returning to his eyes, but she was becoming more aware of the fact that she was pinned beneath him. A tingle slid up her spine, her heart tapping erratically against her ribs. His eyes dropped to the pulse fluttering at her throat, fully aware it wasn’t caused by fear.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt,” Julian commented, a wide grin on his face. “Forgot my knife.” Sypher moved like he’d been burned, backing several feet away from her in a split second. Elda sat up and watched Julian get the knife from a bag hanging by Sid’s haunch, striding back into the trees with a cheerful whistle.

“I’ll go check for any patrols that might get in our way,” the Soul Forge muttered, leaping into the air before his wings had even fully unfurled. She stayed sat in the dirt for several minutes, stunned. He’d held a knife to her throat. A knife. And all she could focus on was his weight above her.

“There’s something wrong with me,” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Syd nickered, almost like she was laughing. “Thanks for the support,” Elda muttered.

She set about dismantling their makeshift camp site, scattering the stones from the fire circle around the clearing, and stamping the ashes into the mud to work some of the tension out of her muscles. Julian returned to find her pacing. He didn’t say anything at first, handing her some fruit he’d managed to pluck from the forest. The thought of eating made her nauseous, but she popped a few berries into her mouth and kept an apple in her hand.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen him hold a knife to someone’s throat and not use it,” Julian commented eventually. “It’s also the first time I’ve seen him look at anyone like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like he wants to undress you, dear.” Elda choked on the berry she was eating. “Oh come on, you looked at him the same way! I can still hear your heart pounding.”

“That is not what happened. I was startled, that’s all.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a Vampire. I can smell fear, and that wasn’t fear.”

“It wasn’t what you think it was either!” she retorted.

“Sure. You go ahead and live in denial. When you two finally do the deed, I’ll be right here to say I told you so.”

Elda’s face was still burning when Sypher landed. Julian tossed an apple at him that he snatched out of the air without looking, his eyes surveying their camp site. He turned to to the Vampire and frowned.

“You foraged and cleared up the fire already? That was fast.”

“Wasn’t me,” Julian shrugged, grinning broadly. “The camp was cleared out by the time I got back.”

“How did you know you needed to do that?” Sypher questioned, turning to the Princess.

“I figured you didn’t want the guards realising we were here if a patrol came by,” she shrugged, not looking at him.

“Alright.”

“What he means to say is ‘well done’,” Julian supplied.

“I know,” Elda nodded, still not looking at him. The Soul Forge drew closer and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her until she dared to meet his gaze.

“You good?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I can carry Julian if you’d prefer to ride Syd.” She shook her head, alarmed at the idea of riding the tulpar demon anywhere.

“I’m good.”

“Ready to go?” She nodded, so he turned and she hopped onto his back. It felt very different to the day before, and she was thankful their journey to Valdren would be over in a few hours. She was hyper aware of his hands securing her legs and the brush of his wings against her sides when they took off.

Julian and Syd kept pace with them for the journey, weaving from side to side while the tulpar demon exercised her wings with a series of excited nickers and whinnies. Julian whooped and hollered, encouraging the horse to act up with glee. Elda couldn’t help her giggle when the horse circled them playfully, though Sypher didn’t take the bait and chase her. He grew more tense with every minute.

The pointed southern border of Falkryn passed by quickly, and soon Valdren was on the horizon. The castle King Artan lived in rose up towards the sky like a beacon, all white stone and intricate towers. The city spread out around it in all directions, the streets cobbled and the houses painted white with black wooden decorations. People paid them no mind, not noticing them flying overhead as they went about their day.

Further into the city, the houses grew larger, constructed from the same white marble as the castle. Villas on verdant plots of land created a patchwork beneath them, growing bigger and grander, until they reached the largest of the lot and Sypher began to descend. Julian followed, landing beside them in the soft grass of a manicured lawn.

Someone appeared in the doorway of the villa, coming out to greet them the minute they touched down. The man was huge, clearly a Shifter, and his hair was long and dark, tied back in a loose ponytail. A short black beard adorned his chin, and his skin was bronzed and healthy.

“Sypher, welcome.” His voice was deep and gravelly.

“Gira,” the Soul Forge greeted.

“Is this the new Keeper?” Gira smiled at Elda, and the expression was warm enough that she relaxed. A permanent twinkle was settled in his rich brown eyes. He shook her hand, engulfing her fingers entirely in his grip.

“Elda Gild,” she replied, inclining her head in greeting. “I’m here to be your punch bag for a few days.”

“I’ll leave that part up to Sypher,” he chuckled. “For now, settle yourselves in your rooms, have something to eat and enjoy my hospitality. It’s good to have you here.”

“Even me?” Julian probed.

“Of course. I’m not sure how successful I’d be at finding you food, but you and your...horse, are welcome to stay.” He cast a dubious look over the demon nosing at his flowers. “Will it be alright in the stables?”

“Are there other horses in there?” the Vampire asked.

“I can arrange for a separate stall if needed.”

“Thank you. She’s not good around other horses. Or people.” He patted her neck proudly and Sypher shook his head in despair.

“She can stay here for now,” Gira chuckled. “Once the stable is ready for her, I’ll let you lead her there, if that’s alright? I don’t want my stablehands to upset her. Or lose any fingers.”

“That’s fair.”

“Gira, how soon can you start training Elda to interact with her Spirit?” Sypher asked.

“As soon as she feels able,” the Keeper replied. “I know this part is important to you.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Sypher?” A female voice floated on the wind and the Soul Forge froze, every muscle in his body becoming completely still. His expression was blank, eyes locked on the source of the sound as the woman emerged from the villa.

“I asked her to stay inside until I called her out,” Gira said quickly. “I’m sorry. She arrived this morning.”

The woman was Fae, her skin a rich, deep blue, contrasting the arctic blue of her hair perfectly. She wore it in a multitude of intricate braids, small silver clasps decorating it here and there. Her eyes were wide and violet, the lashes around them long and luscious. She was tall and willowy, her clothes hugging her figure all the way to her ankles.

Sypher didn’t move until she was within ten feet of him. Elda looked up to find his eyes were wide, his pulse pounding in his throat. He was frightened.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman said, her voice as soft as the petals of a lily. Sypher let out an inhuman hiss and bolted, disappearing into the clouds before anyone registered that he was off the ground.