Page 107 of Soul Forge

“Maybe the first thing they should invest in is a very large wall,” the ex-captain muttered.

“The villager said they had regular patrols out here until last year. When Eden stopped sending soldiers, the hive must have found the opportunity to grow.” Julian’s brow furrowed. “Sypher and the wielders can’t be everywhere. The outlands are feeling left behind.”

“Theyareleft behind,” Elda interjected. “I thought the kingdoms offered refuge to anyone who needed it, but I’ve since learned this isn’t true. If I could convince my father to stopturning them away, perhaps they could live within the safety of the city walls.”

Julian and Reiner shared a look that made any further response die on her tongue. Reiner patted her shoulder. “I told you this world was harsh, Princess. Now you know why we need you to make it better.”

"Come on," Julian said, brightening up abruptly and tugging her to her feet. “Let’s find you something to wear.”

Elda allowed him to lead her away from the inn and into the streets. This part of the village was still mostly intact. The planks beneath her feet were worn but sturdy, turned smooth by the passing of many feet. Iron poles lined them at regular intervals, though she didn’t know what they were for. She paused in front of one, reaching out to touch it.

“Torches,” Julian explained. “Rune lights are too expensive to use out here, so they go with good old-fashioned fire. There’s an oil well in the top that holds enough fuel to burn all night.” He paused. “Have you never seen a torch before?”

“No.” Her head dipped when she was reminded again of how privileged she’d been, even under her father’s iron fist. “There aren’t any in Eden.”

Julian nudged her and flashed a grin. “If you think torches are cool, wait until you see a working watermill.”

“What’s a watermill?” she asked curiously. Julian seemed genuinely excited to tell her, and the shame faded, little by little. Instead of feeling embarrassed by her lack of knowledge, she forced herself to notice her surroundings, asking questions when she saw things she didn’t understand.

Every intact dwelling was one floor, whereas the ones in Kilmarthen and Grimgarde had been two storeys. Julian told her this was common in the poorer villages, because one storey was easier to rebuild than two. The houses had been thrown together with timber and clay; the windows boarded with shuttersinstead of glass. They appeared more like ramshackle huts than actual homes.

Until Elda noticed the carvings. Every inch of wood was marked and carved with whorls and swirls, placed deliberately to form runes. The houses in Eden were plain, solid stone. They bore no runes or artwork, yet these homes were decorated with beautiful, painstakingly crafted designs, the ridges and knots casting unique patterns of shadow when the sunlight fell across them. They were makeshift, flammable, flimsy, but they wereloved.

A lump formed in her throat. She’d thought Eden would be the most beautiful sight she’d ever see, that its gilded artwork and clean, grand homes would be a luxury she could never live without, yet this artwork, this living, breathing mark left by the lives of people living in constant danger, struck a chord in her that stole her breath for a second.

Beauty was not in gold or jewels. It wasn’t dresses or silk shoes, and it wasn’t in expensive paintings and fabrics. She understood then that real beauty was found in the ferociousness with which a person chose to live.

She saw it in the woman carrying baskets of blankets and clothes, sweat coating her brow as she handed them out to those without liveable homes. She saw it in the people clearing the rubble, their hands and faces painted with grime. It shone from those still finding time to attend Irileth’s temple and give thanks for their lives, even after tragedy had struck.

Everywhere she looked, there were protection runes woven into the simple tunics the villagers wore, sewn into a cap, and stitched into the elbows of a worn jacket. In Eden, runes were a commodity. They held power that made oil lamps and other mundane things unnecessary. The kingdom’s coffers never ran dry, so the supply of runes in Eden never ran out, but in Riordan, they didn’t have enough wealth to purchase working runes. InRiordan, they were nothing more than simple drawings, but the power they held far outweighed those in the main city.

Because in Riordan, they werehope.

The vampire paused in his explanation of the rain collectors placed around the village to store water, noticing she’d drawn to a stop.

“You okay, pipsqueak?”

She nodded, beaming through her tears, her chest filled with a fierce determination to do more for the people forced to live in fear like the residents of this village. She wouldn’t be the queen her parents wanted her to be.She would be better.

“I’m more okay than I’ve been for a long time.”

Elda huddled inside her new armour; Sypher’s dark cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Reiner sat behind her, hunched against the cold. Julian rode Nox to their right, his collar flicked up in a poor attempt to protect his neck from the wind when the hood proved too light to withstand the gale.

Sypher flew ahead, his full black armour in place and his face obscured by shadows. His wings continued to beat in a steady rhythm, appearing undisturbed by the chill. Gira was bent against the icy wind on Sypher’s back, his massive form curled in on itself to retain whatever heat he could.

The new connection between Elda and Sypher echoed back to her emptily, almost like he was deliberately blocking it. He’d been acting strange since she’d donned her new armour with its red accents and hardened belt, only speaking to her when he had to and avoiding eye contact as much as he could. She’d expected him to be impressed, but disappointment sat bitterly on her tongue when she glanced over yet again to find his head turned firmly away from her.

You could try talking to him,Irileth nudged casually, her voice as clear as a bell in Elda’s mind.You can push past his block if you try.The elf frowned, staying silent. Pushing past the block felt like an invasion of his privacy, and the last thing she wanted was to upset him further.

She spent the day running over everything she’d said since waking up that morning, trying to pinpoint exactly what she could have done to make him go back to avoiding her again. When nothing jumped out at her, she scowled and started again, combing back through every minute of interaction with him.

Night had fallen when they eventually started to descend. The temperature had dropped even further, and the mountains of Cenet loomed up against the inky sky. Their sides were stark rock, pitch black and coated with cracks and crevices. Thin white veins ran from the base upwards in a webbed pattern, widening and increasing in volume until the black rock was engulfed by gleaming white moonstone. They reflected the moonlight back as though they were lit with their own inner glow, the peaks disappearing beneath a blanket of cloud. Elda had never seen a structure so big – they made the palace seem like a doll's house.

The main city of Cenet sat in the foothills, protected by their shadow, built around the lake the runoff from the mountains had created at their base. The streets were illuminated with enchanted moonstone lamps that cast shades of white and pearl pink over everything, not a single oil torch in sight. Every building was ornate and pearly white, even the smaller dwellings gilded in pale gold. Not one home was cheap or flimsy, and as beautiful as the architecture of the fae was, it lacked the soul Elda had found in the carved homes of Riordan.

Runiel’s palace sat on its own island in the centre of the enormous lake, only accessible by an intricately carved white bridge. It was clear from up in the air that the expansive palace the prince lived in was also built from the priceless moonstonemined from his mountains, but where the rest of the city was painted with gold accents, his home was pure white.

The whole thing was beautiful to look at, but the amount of wealth on display seemed wasteful even to Elda. The cost of such a place anywhere else would have been astronomical, but with their moonstone mines, the fae living here were incredibly wealthy. They didn’t want for food or shelter, and Elda was certain they wouldn’t allow the outlanders refuge within their walls.

---