Page 1 of Soul Forge

“What did I tell younotto do?” King Hrothgar growled, gripping the doorframe hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Elda resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Sneak out to the forest.”

“And what did you do?” A vein in his neck began to pulse. A flutter of annoyance mixed with the nerves that had already settled in her stomach.

“I went to the forest.”

“You know there are demons out there!” he thundered. She fought the urge to flinch, clenching the bedsheets in her fist. “Do you not understand the danger? It’s not like it was when you were a child, Elda! You can’t just go running off to the trees when you feel like being a brat!”

The silence that followed the insult made the king pause and survey his daughter, who stared back with steel in her eyes. She’d spent her life being screamed at and locked away by him – it would take more than a temper tantrum to scare her. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a forefinger and thumb,taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.

“How do I keep you safe when you’re so determined to get yourself killed?”

“Get better locks.”

That was a mistake.

“I amdonewith your foolishness!” Hrothgar bellowed, his temper reigniting. “You will stay here, where I know you’re safe until it’s time for the banquet! A guard will be posted outside your door, and you are tostay put. Do you understand?!”

“Yes, Father,” she sighed, dipping her head in feigned submission.In your dreams, she added mentally. Around her, the walls began a steady, mocking grinding that only she could hear. She’d learned that the fastest way to get rid of Hrothgar was to make herself small and meek.

At the hunch of her shoulders, his tone softened. “You know how important today is for us,” he reminded her more gently. As if that would stop her from leaving. “Forallof Eden. Please just stay put, sweetheart.” He was almost gone, she was almost safe, but then he stopped in the doorway and looked back at her, narrowing his eyes. “If you leave again, I’ll send Reiner out after you, and Aeon save you, therewillbe consequences.”

On a normal day, the threat might have made Elda pause, but today wasn’t a normal day. The phantom rumbling of the walls escalated, panic tricking her eyes into believing they were moving in towards her. She knew it was a lie, but her heart still thundered like the room would really crush her. The sound of the lock sliding into place was a thunderclap, the complicated pattern of runes that made up the sealing ward flaring up on the wood for good measure. She was caged.

Elda sucked in deep breaths, letting them out through her nose until her father’s footsteps faded. As soon as he was gone, she slipped a leather pouch and her runed lockpick out fromunder the clothes in her dresser, thankful he hadn’t searched her room this time. The emerald necklace she’d sold to replace the last lockpick her father confiscated had earned her a full day of forced needlework lessons as a punishment. Her fingers still bore the scars.

Crouching in front of the door, she tapped the tool against the wood and waited, feeling the zap of energy run from the lockpick and into the dark oak. She listened for the near-silent buzz of fading magic as it got to work dismantling the runes. When the sealing ward stopped its faint hum, she slid the tool into the lock and got to work. It took several minutes of jiggling the lockpick and searching for the right tumblers to manipulate, her brow furrowed as she peered into the dark keyhole.

When it finally disengaged, she bit down on a triumphant laugh. She couldn’t celebrate yet, though; there was still the guard to deal with.

Moving slowly, Elda dared to turn the handle and pull the door open a few centimetres, holding her breath at the click of the latch. When nothing happened, she took a pinch of powder from the pouch, careful not to let it get near her face.

The guard was right where she expected, his back to her door and his palm on the hilt of the sword at his hip. The sigh of relief almost gave her away when she saw his pointed ear beneath his helmet. If he’d been a shifter, his sensitive hearing would have caught her the moment the lock clicked open. Thankfully, there were few shifters in Eden’s army.

She lifted her hand and blew, catching the guard full in the face when he turned to follow the sound of her exhale.

In the single second it took him to realise what was happening, his eyes rolled back, and Elda staggered under his weight. She dragged his limp body into her room and shut the door. He’d be unconscious for a couple of hours at least – plenty of time to getaway. She pulled up her hood and left him there, heading in the opposite direction from the king.

The palace staff were too busy with their work to offer much attention to the cloaked elf in stolen boots. Elves and humans hurried back and forth, sharing duties to get everything prepared for the coming celebration. The banquet preparations took up so much of their time that Elda managed to get most of the way out of the palace without trouble. She was about to step out of the rear door when a familiar figure strode by with a mace strapped across her back, her many braids pulled into a neat bun on top of her head.

Elda watched Captain Rukya Reiner smile tightly at her companion. She was tall, with broad shoulders and dark skin. Valkyries were known for being intimidating, but Reiner was on a whole new level. Her arms were toned, made strong from years of fighting and keeping herself secure on the back of her winged horse, Atlas. The thin line of violet circling the russet of her irises marked her for what she was – a threat to anyone who dared to harm her kingdom.

Lord Horthan was several inches taller than the proud captain, but he paled in comparison. He walked beside her through the manicured gardens with a lazy smile on his face, clad from head to toe in golden armour that had obviously never seen battle. His forest green cloak billowed behind him when he walked, serving no purpose beyond looking dramatic, and the brilliant sunlight reflected off his golden eyes – a trademark of the shifters. Inside him, there was a beast with claws and fangs, always only a hair’s breadth from emerging. Elda shuddered at the sight of him.

Ducking into the safety of the doorway, she pressed her back against the stone and counted to fifty, waiting for her pounding heart to slow. Her lungs felt tight, panic clawing up her throat at the thought of being discovered before she could even escape the grounds.

But the hallway she stood in remained mercifully empty, the activity in the palace still centred around the banquet hall. After what felt like an age, she dared to check the gardens again. When she peeked back outside, the captain and her Falkrynian companion were gone.

The guards patrolling the lush grounds completed their usual pass over the open portcullis, disappearing among the ornamental hedges and statues of Aeon and the other Spirits. The moment they were gone, Elda flitted across the space and through the stone archway, careful to keep her weapon concealed beneath her cloak.

The belt around her chest loosened a fraction when she escaped the confines of the palace, but she knew the flutter in her throat wouldn’t disappear until there was damp earth beneath her boots and the palace was out of sight.

Wandering through the city streets, she watched the civilians peacefully going about their lives. Elves of varying degrees of wealth lined the streets, mixing with the human settlers and the occasional fae. According to her father, Eden was an open-border city, allowing anyone to live within its walls as long as they meant no harm. Humans had flocked from the valleys to live among the elves, settling into their lives as merchants, bakers, cleaners, artists, and any other career they could slot themselves into.

Elda would trade her tiara and pretty dresses in a heartbeat to join them. The commitments royalty had foisted upon her were suffocating, and the humans lived with such vivacity. For creatures with such a short lifespan, they were content.

That was all Elda wanted. To live her life freely. If she were a baker or a seamstress, there would be no forced marriage to strengthen a kingdom. No curtseying and simpering to people who saw her as nothing more than a doll in a crown.She wouldn’t be promised to a man who treated her like a possession.

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