Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

Sypher landed when the sun went down, circling towards a copse of trees. His landing was heavy, the only sign that he was tired. Elda watched his wings vanish in a gust of smoke and feathers, evaporating on the light breeze. He rolled his neck, the bones cracking quietly.

“How did you make your wings disappear like that?” she asked curiously, stretching her arms above her head.

“Magic. I don’t know exactly why or how, but they’re a physical part of me that comes and goes. I can call on them at will.”

“Like the way your face changes when you’re more demon?”

“I guess so.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think your wings are from your demon?”

“I do.” He looked around the clearing they’d landed in, starting to gather dried twigs and leaves for a fire. Elda copied him, determined to help.

“Why do you think that? You could be part Avian Shifter.”

“I’m not a Shifter. I have no beast.”

“Part Angel then,” she suggested.

“The Angels went extinct before I even existed.”

“What other things fly?” she pondered, her armful of twigs growing by the second. “Dragons!”

“Dragons have scales. My wings are feathered.” He held his hands out for the twigs she’d gathered, taking them from her and setting them on the ground in the centre of the clearing. “Can you help me find some stones? I need ones about the size of your palm, enough to make a circle around the fire.”

“Are you going to use magic to light it?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know how to do any of this,” she shrugged. “I’m curious.”

“You want to learn to light a fire?” he asked sceptically. She nodded eagerly. His eyebrows crept upwards a fraction. “Alright. Gather the stones and I’ll show you how to stack everything first.” Elda set about searching the clearing for the rocks, finding an armful that she proudly showed to the Soul Forge. Her grin widened when he actually smiled a little.

“Is this enough?”

“It’s plenty,” he nodded, taking them from her and setting them on the ground beside his own collection. “First we make a circle of stones. It stops the fire spreading and destroying the forest. It helps keep the sticks in place when they’re stacked as well.” She followed his instructions, carefully laying them on the ground until the circle was complete. “Now stack the sticks into a pyre, like this.” He bent to show her, kneeling in the dirt beside her.

“They won’t stay up,” Elda noted, frowning when it was her turn to try.

“They will. Keep trying.” She did as he asked, fiddling with the twigs until she finally managed to position three of them into the beginnings of a pyre.

“It worked!”

“I told you it would. Now you just keep adding more until the circle is full. We want to keep the fire low, so we don’t need the whole pile just now.” He started adding the sticks with her, placing them carefully one by one. Elda couldn’t help glancing at the soft furrow between his brows when he concentrated. He looked handsome when he wasn’t in a bad mood.

“How do we light it?”

“With this.” He reached into the pack she was carrying for him and pulled out a stone. “It’s a flint stone. Gather some dried leaves and I’ll show you how to get it going.” Elda grinned and got to her feet, searching for the driest leaves she could find and arranging them at the foot of the pyre.

“Why do you need a knife?” she asked when the Soul Forge slipped a dagger out of his boot.

“A flint doesn’t work on its own. Watch.” He struck the stone against the knife and Elda’s eyes widened when sparks were created. “You use the sparks to light the leaves, then the leaves light the wood.”

“Why do you know how to do this when you have magic?”

“Magic has limits. I find that it makes sense to conserve it when I’m surrounded by war. One of the easiest ways to do that is by using mundane means to complete small tasks like this.”

“Can I try?” He cocked his head at her eagerness, holding the hilt of the knife out to her with one hand and the flint stone with the other. She took them and struck the stone against the knife, deflating when no sparks flew.

“You have to get the angle right. Here.” He reached out and adjusted her grip on the knife, his gloved fingers closing around hers for a brief second. “Hold it like this and bring the point of the stone down along its length.” She tried again, giggling with delight when it produced a spark. “Now try it next to the fire.”

It took several attempts before the sparks were bright enough to catch, but eventually the leaves ignited and fire began licking its way up the pyre. Elda whooped in triumph, throwing her arms in the air. Sypher chuckled quietly, his reaction only increasing her excitement.

“Thank you for teaching me,” she expressed, her beam hurting her cheeks. She held the dagger and flint out to him.

“Keep them. You can use them to light the next one.”

“You said I couldn’t have a weapon until I met with Gira.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want them or not?”

“Of course I want them.” She clutched them to her chest. He shook his head, fighting another smile. “What else can you teach me?”

“That’s a broad question.”

“I want a broad answer.” She looked down at the dagger and flint. “I’ve spent my life in a palace. I taught myself archery. I made my own cloak, carved my own bow, stole the things I couldn’t make, and I still know nothing.”

“Well, now you know how to light a fire. And what the world looks like from the sky. You know what I am...sort of.” He sat back in the dirt, eyes on the flames. “You’ll continue to learn, as long as you’re willing to listen, and to put everything you have into the things you’re taught.”

“I will.” She shifted from kneeling to sitting, crossing her legs and angling herself so she was facing him. “And when we reach Gira, and I find out whatever it is you’re so afraid of, I’m going to prove your assumptions about me wrong. When that happens, I want you to promise me the same.”

“Sure, Princess.”

“I’m serious. If I turn out to be different to the others, I want you to put as much of yourself into this as I do. If I’m really going to be a Keeper, I want to be the best one there is. The only way I can do that is with your help.” She held out a hand, not faltering when he looked down at it, then back up at her face and arched an eyebrow. Eventually, he reached out and shook it reluctantly.

“Fine.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but one of the runes on his neck illuminated in burning red and his whole body froze. His eyes reflected the light, shining brightly for a second before dimming back down.

“Are you okay?” Sypher didn’t answer, getting to his feet so quickly she almost missed the movement. He was looking up at the darkening sky, attention fixed on something Elda couldn’t see at first. The evening light was almost gone, plunging the clearing into darkness everywhere the fire couldn’t reach.

Elda’s ears picked up the faint beating of a pair of wings, growing steadily louder with each passing second. A shadow appeared, darker than the inky backdrop and growing more distinct, until eventually it hit the firelight. A pair of leathery black wings were illuminated from the underneath, and then four hoofs touched the dirt.

Sypher was already approaching the creature, hands outstretched to calm it down, while Elda was still processing what she was looking at. It was a horse, huge and dark and imposing, with wings that dwarfed Sypher’s tucked in close to its back. Its eyes were blank white orbs, and on its back a man was slumped over, barely holding on. The Soul Forge ran a hand along the snout of the creature in greeting, then pulled the rider off its back and ducked under his arm to take his weight.

“What is that?” Elda asked, eyeing the horse warily.

“A tulpar demon,” Sypher answered, laying the man on the ground. “Shit Julian, why haven’t you fed?”

“Meals are hard to find,” the man groaned, and Elda gasped when he lunged for Sypher’s throat. The Soul Forge grunted, catching his friend by the shoulders just in time to save his jugular being torn out.

“Julian.” The man struggled weakly against his grip. “Jules, look at me.” He stopped trying to break free. “Are you hurt?”

“Just hungry.” Julian sounded like he was in agony.

“Alright. Just give me a minute to explain, okay? You’ll frighten off my latest Keeper.” Julian clenched his fists and nodded, grinding his teeth against the hunger pains when Sypher moved away from him.

“I don’t understand what just happened,” Elda stammered, staring at the newcomer. He watched Sypher’s every move with ravenous, pale white eyes. Dark hollows surrounded them in evidence of his malnourishment, and his skin was sallow.

“Julian is a Vampire.”

“Vampires are extinct,” Elda denied.

“Not all of them. There aren’t many left that I know of, but there are some. This one has been my friend for a long time, and right now he’s dying.”

“He tried to kill you!”

“If you knew what the bloodthirst was like, you’d understand why.” He spoke quickly, keeping one eye on the Vampire. “I have to feed him, Elda.”

“What if he kills you?”

“Immortal, remember? I just need you to keep your distance until he’s full, alright? If you get too close to him in this state, he could hurt you.” She chewed her lip anxiously, but she nodded and positioned herself on the opposite side of the fire.

“Be careful.”

“I’m not sure how careful I can be. He’s about to rip my throat out,” he replied archly, turning back to his friend. He spread his arms and braced himself. “Alright Julian, have at it.” The Vampire uncoiled and sprang at him, slamming into his torso and sinking his fangs deep into Sypher’s throat. "Fuck," he grunted, staggering under the weight.

“Are you okay?” Elda asked, heart hammering in her throat when she saw the Vampire drinking greedily.

“I’ve been better,” Sypher answered through gritted teeth. He swayed, then one leg folded beneath him. “Slow down, Julian. You’re about to knock me out.” The Vampire didn’t respond or slow down.

“What happens if he takes too much?”

“I think that’s a given, at this point,” Sypher mumbled, his skin paling alarmingly quickly. “I’ll be unconscious for a while. If my blood isn’t enough to fill him, stab him.”

"What?”

“I’m serious. Stab him with the dagger. It might shock him out of the thirst.” His other leg faltered and he sat heavily, one arm braced against the ground to keep him upright. “I’ll be out cold very soon.”

“And then what?”

“You wait. I’ll wake up.” His eyes unfocussed, the arm holding him up beginning to tremble. All the colour was gone from his skin. “Keep the dagger close.” And then his eyes rolled back and he sagged, passing out on the ground with the Vampire still latched onto his throat.

Elda gripped the hilt in both hands, blood rushing in her ears so loudly it was almost enough to drown out the horrible sounds of Julian draining every drop of Sypher’s vitality. She stayed frozen until the newcomer detached himself and stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked down at his friend like he didn’t know how he got there, blinking in confusion.

“Shit, Sy,” he muttered. “Why’d you let me do this again, you fool?”

“Get away from him,” Elda warned, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Don’t you touch him!”

“Hmm.” The Vampire turned stormy silver eyes on her and cocked his head. “And who might you be?”