Page 46 of Soul Forge

“The stone circle stops the fire spreading,” he told her, ignoring the insult. “And it helps keep the sticks in place while we’re stacking them.” She copied him, laying the stones so they touched each other, forming a miniature circular wall just inside the entrance. “Now stack the sticks into a pyre like this.” He knelt to show her.

When it was her turn to try, the sticks toppled into a pile. “They won’t stay up,” she grumbled.

“They will. Try again.” 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.” She looked towards Reiner automatically, but the captain had her back to them and was moodily polishing her mace. A faint pulse of lilac shimmered through the markings on her neck.

“Keep adding more until the circle is full, like this,” Sypher instructed, adding the sticks with her, placing them carefully one by one. “We want to keep the fire low for now, so don’t add too many. If it gets too big, this place will fill up with smoke.”

Elda couldn’t help glancing at the soft furrow between his brows when he concentrated, watching pale strands of hair fall into his eyes. He didn’t look like a monster at all. It was hard to believe a demon hid beneath the surface.

“How do we light it?” she asked to distract herself before he noticed her staring.

“With this.” Sypher reached into his pack and pulled out a scarred black stone. “It’s a flint stone. Gather some of the dry grass, and I’ll show you how to get it going.”

Elda hid a grin and got to her feet, tearing handfuls of coarse grass from between the seams of rock and returning to the shelter. Sypher dropped it around the base of the pyre and slipped a dagger out of his boot.

“What’s the knife for?” she asked.

“Watch.” He struck the stone against it, and Elda’s eyes rounded when sparks showered from the blade. “You use the sparks to light the grass, then the grass lights the wood.”

“But you have magic. Why wouldn’t you use that instead?” she probed.

“All kinds of magic demand a price. Oath magic demands your life, one way or another.” She thought back to Yarrow for a moment and how his life had been ruined by her stupidity. “Elemental magic demands repayment in vitality. Using too much can exhaust you, and in the worst cases, it can kill you. Umbramancy carries a cost as well.” She noticed he didn’t say what sort of cost, but she didn’t push it. “Why tire yourself out for something that can be easily accomplished with some simple tools?”

“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 nothing happened.

“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, beaming when it produced a spark. “Now try it next to the fire.”

It took several attempts before the sparks were bright enough to catch, and Reiner finally turned to watch her progress. Eventually, the leaves ignited, and fire began licking its way up the pyre. Elda’s grin hurt her cheeks.

“Thank you for teaching me,” she said, holding the dagger and flint out to him.

He looked down at the weapon, pausing as if deep in thought. “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. “What else can you teach me?”

Sypher frowned. “That’s a broad question.”

“I want a broad answer.” She looked down at the dagger and flint, feeling the weight of all that they symbolised. Her first steps towards controlling her own future. “I’ve spent my life in a palace, having every single choice made for me.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Reiner’s head lift to look at her. “I had no independence, no real experience of the world beyond the palace walls. Reiner gave me some basic self-defence training whenever she had the chance. I stole my father’s books and taught myself archery with them. I made my own cloak, carved my own bow, and stole or bartered for the things I couldn’t make whenever I was able to leave the palace.

“I did what I could to gain some control of my life, only to have it all taken away from me when my father decided to marry me off. My weakness caused someone else immeasurable pain.” She pushed past the tightness in her chest, working hard to ignore Yarrow’s screams echoing in her ears. If she’d been stronger, she might have saved him.

“Princess–”

“I don’t want to be in that position ever again,” she blurted, cutting him off. “Iama wielder. I want to learn everything you have to teach me so that the next time someone tries to take my choices from me, I’m strong enough to challenge them.”

He took his hood down and nodded, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. “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.”

“She’s willing, alright,” Reiner said quietly. “She’s stubborn, even for a princess.”

“I am,” Elda agreed. She shifted from kneeling to sitting, crossing her legs and angling herself so she was facing him. “And when we reach Gira, I’m going to prove to you that I was the right choice. I’m going to do whatever I can to become strong.”

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