Page 116 of Soul Forge

The black shape lifted its head and cawed, and Elda gasped when the wraith’s sharp beak glinted, the image of a similar, smaller beak piercing through Sypher’s torso turning her stomach. It crawled forwards until it was in the chamber with them, and Elda saw a shock of flame-bright hair on its back.

“Sypher, my little pet,” a feminine voice trilled, turning Elda’s blood to ice. “I’ve been trying to get in here fordays. Thank you for opening the door for me.”

Elda watched the rider slide down the side of her demon, landing lightly on her feet and running her fingers over its dark plumage as she walked by it. She was clad in black, her torso wrapped in a tight corset decorated with stitched black roses. Dark leather hugged her legs, so shiny it looked wet, and her boots were tall and heeled, laced all the way up to her thighs. She wore no armour, and her only weapon was a wicked-looking dagger at her hip. The power emanating from the weaponwas wrong,warpedsomehow. Its sickness called out to Elda, reaching for the bow slung over her shoulder like it knew the Spirit inside.

She realised then that standing before her was a woman she’d only heard horrible things about. Her crimson curls above a battlefield were an omen that death would follow, her laughter the last thing many soldiers heard before she snuffed them out. She had turned her back on Valerus and the Spirits along with it. This was the woman who could control demons. This was the woman whose weapon spit poisoned fire.

“Cynthia,” Sypher growled, turning to face her, and the pure rage in the word made Elda’s throat constrict. The Corrupted flashed a smile filled with malice, her green eyes glittering like gemstones as she appraised the Soul Forge like he was a fine jewel.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, laying a hand on her chest.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, the hiss in his voice betraying that Vel was close to the surface. He took Elda’s arm, moving her protectively behind him.

“The same thing you are, I assume.” The witch’s head tilted, a smile crossing her lips when her eyes fell on the princess. “Ah, this must be your newest charge. So pretty. It’s a shame she won’t be leaving this mountain alive.” The threat made Elda’s hand tremble. She’dbarelysurvived fighting the arachna. How would she fare against one of the Corrupted?

“Keep dreaming, witch,” Julian snapped, backing up to stand in front of Elda as well.

“A witch?” the princess murmured.

“A human born with magic,” Sypher replied, watching every move Cynthia made. “They’re extremely rare and often dangerous. I’ve known two in my lifetime, and only one of them is still living.”

“That would be me, sweetheart,” the Corrupted chuckled, her smile as sharp as her knife. “Would you like to see what a human with magic can do?”

“No,” Elda answered immediately, her voice projecting a confidence she didn’t feel. “I’d like you to go back to Darkhold and leave Valerus in peace.”

The witch threw back her head and laughed. “Feisty, aren’t you? I like a bit of fire. It’s a shame I have to kill you, really. Can’t let another new wielder learn the tricks of the trade, you see.” She unsheathed her dagger, running her fingers down the flat of the blade.

Gira flanked Sypher on his other side, Reiner beside him, all of them drawing their weapons. Atlas flared his wings, and Nox let out a threatening hiss. Elda stood behind all of them, a wall of powerful fighters between her and the Corrupted.

Will that be enough?The poisonous voice she’d managed to stamp out returned with a vengeance, stoking her doubts until her heart hammered in her chest. The woman oozed power, the air itself seeming to vibrate around her. The monstrous bird at her beck and call was a living nightmare, bending its head so she could stroke the oily feathers on its forehead.

All of Elda’s protectors raised their weapons.

Cynthia’s smile was a blade in the dark, promising blood. “Oh, I dolovea good fight.” One finger extended out in front of her, beckoning them closer. “Come and get me.”

Gira leapt, and Cynthia’s knife blurred, spinning in her palm so that her thumb rested on the hilt. The shifter brought his heavy claymore down towards her head, and she parried it like it was no lighter than a feather, knocking his blow aside and lurching forwards to slash at Nox. The tulpar demon reared up out of the way, trying to bring her hooves down on Cynthia’s head and missing. Julian’s axe whistled through the air, and Cynthia bent backwards, letting it pass harmlessly over her face.

The witch laughed, dancing past them to head straight for Elda. The princess froze, and Reiner stepped into her path, Atlas’ massive chest blocking the way. Sypher’s sword was out, wings tucked close to his back as he and the valkyrie squared off against Cynthia. Violet lightning whipped from the spikes of her mace when it swung, forcing the witch to hop backwards, scorching the tiles at her feet.

Beyond them, Elda saw the wraith spring to life, its deadly beak stabbing down towards Julian. Nox backed up to avoid the attack, and Gira’s massive legs bunched, propelling him onto its back. The giant bird shrieked at his claws rending its skin.

Reiner’s power flared, zapping towards the witch. It made contact, and Elda expected her to cry out and buckle. The memory of a tiny spark searing through her was still fresh, and it made her flinch just to think about it. Just one tiny prickle had been agony, and Cynthia had just taken a hit at full strength.

But the Corrupted remained on her feet, teeth gritted in a manic smile as she weathered the pain. The muscles in her neck corded, her fists clenching until her knuckles turned white, but she waslaughing. Elda saw the madness glittering in her eyes when she leapt, red hair flying in the wind. Her jagged dagger flashed, and it was met with Sypher’s black blade, the metal singing with each swing.

It was torture, watching the people Elda cared about fighting to protect her against a woman famed for her love of murder. Cynthia was infamous, her name used to strike fear into the hearts of every creature on Valerus. Each blow made Elda’s breath catch, every grunt quickening her pulse until she could barely stand to witness the fight. She was useless, hopeless, an ornament on the sidelines. This was a challenge to Cynthia, andshewas the trophy.

A second wraith squeezed through the open doorway, smaller than the first one but still big enough to make Reiner curse. Shetugged on the reins and split off from the fight with Cynthia, charging towards the second beast. Elda watched Atlas jump, his powerful hooves striking its left wing before it could snag Gira in its talons.

That left Sypher alone with Cynthia. He didn’t hold back, using every part of himself to his advantage. His wings sent a gust of dust and air right into her eyes; his boot swept her legs from under her, and his blade tried and failed to pierce her throat. She rolled and got her feet under her, blocking the elbow he sent at her head and the knee he tried to jam into her hip. His bicep blocked the fist she aimed for his head, and his fingers caught her other wrist when she tried to plunge her dagger deep into his side.

“No magic, Sypher?” she purred. Elda could see how much the witch loved the fighting – her eyes twinkled with glee, her grin broad enough that her cheeks had to be aching. “You’re holding back on me.”

Sypher’s hands ignited in answer, flames licking their way up to his elbows. He threw a punch that could crack stone, forcing her to dodge, and Elda’s heart shot into her throat. The witch cackled and spun, slicing her blade along his thigh, blisters bubbling across her shoulder when his fingers closed around it. She slashed, attempting to take his hand, and he let go.

Again, Cynthia darted right for Elda. The elf staggered back a step, but Sypher was already stepping into the witch’s path. He gritted his teeth and slammed a boot into her chest, knocking her back far enough to extend his fingertips towards her. He snapped his palm up to face her, and the air rippled under his command. A wave of it solidified, rushing towards Cynthia and slamming into her hard enough to toss her across the cavern. She hit the far wall and bounced off, rolling to a stop and spitting blood onto the ruined tiles.

Elda’s eyes fell on the gash in Sypher’s leg, the skin sizzling like it had been touched by acid. She strained to remember what she knew of the Corrupted and their weapons, but their abilities were something her father had only disclosed in small doses.

---