The villagers stopped their rushing around, many of them pausing with heavy chunks of charred wood and stone in theirhands, halfway through work to repair their homes. All of them stared at Elda as she marched through the streets, saluting her for her efforts the night before.
Reiner cast her a familiar nod and made a move to approach, but she was waylaid by a villager struggling with a heavy piece of rubble, and Elda had no time to wait. Gira flashed a smile as she passed, his hands full of what looked like half of the entryway to a home.
The well leading down to the hive sat in the centre of the bloodied square, coated in the dust of the dead arachna. Like all demons, their bodies turned to ash when they died. If it hadn’t been for the scored, broken stone well, pushed apart by the swell of bodies that had climbed out of its opening, a passer-by might think the fire had caused the carnage. The pit seemed to swallow every bit of light that reached it.
Elda stopped at the edge and leaned down, scowling into the darkness.
“Sypher Gild!” she yelled. “Get your ass out here before I come down there anddragit out!”
It didn’t take long for a pair of black wings to carry a blood-splattered Soul Forge out of the hive. He landed right in front of Elda, frowning down at her. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, but he appeared to be in good shape. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the grey gore coating his armour, breathing through her mouth to avoid the smell.
“You should be in bed,” he admonished. Her brows crept upwards in astonishment, the disgust forgotten.
“So should you!” she yelled back. “You can’t just take down a whole hive of demons alone, you idiot! You’re exhausted!” His head tilted, one eyebrow quirking upwards. “And you healed me without resting! Are you insane?”
“El.” He put a hand on her unbandaged shoulder, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. “This is my job. I had to stop the rest of them from coming out to destroy what remains of the village.”
She deflated under his calm reply. “I...” She sighed, pink dusting her cheeks. “I know. I just… We flew so far, and we were all so tired, and then we had tofight. You were using yourumbramancy, and I know that hurts you, and the demons were everywhere.” She scowled at him. “I just think you should have rested.”
His red eyes twinkled. “You were worried about me.”
“Of course I was worried!”
“So worried that you were prepared to march in there after me with no armour and a bow you’re too hurt to use. Were you going to club them to death with it?” Her blush deepened. Sypher chuckled and pulled her into a rare, gentle hug, careful not to hurt her. It was so surprising that she didn’t even complain about the demon blood all over him. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He stepped back before she could return the embrace, rolling his shoulders and pulling in his wings with a groan.
“What happened last night?” she asked.
“You tell me.” He shrugged. “I found Nox going insane at the mouth of an alley and Irileth out in the marshes with twelve frightened civilians. You were bleeding out in the dirt, and your blade was buried in an arachna skull six feet away.”
“I threw it,” she admitted.
His brows inched upwards. “Nice throw.”
His praise sent a flutter of pride through her, mixing with the sheer relief that he was okay. She’d expected him to crawl out of the hole with black eyes and sharpened teeth. Instead, he looked healthy beneath the grime.
He bent to pull her dagger out of his boot, handing it to her hilt first. “Here, I meant to return it to you earlier.” She took it from him and reunited it with her bow, watching the stone glow and the metal reshape as though the blade never existed.
“I really killed an arachna?” It seemed impossible. How could she throw a blade so hard it pierced bone? She should have died in the mud and the dark, yet there she stood.
“It looks that way.” His head tilted. “Reiner told you to stay out of trouble.”
“People were trapped in the hall,” she mumbled, remembering the frightened faces, the desperate hands reaching for her. The certainty of her purpose had urged her on, pushing her to save them despite her fear and inexperience. “I had to help them. I’m a wielder.”
He smiled down at her, the expression sending her heart into a frenzy. “Yes,” he agreed. “Yes, you are.” The pride swelled and burst, butterflies dancing in her chest. Her grin was broad enough to hurt her cheeks, the voice of doubt stamped down and locked in a cage. Getting validation from him hadn’t been something she wanted or expected, but hearing it set a fire in her. For a moment, she truly believed she could be the greatest wielder Valerus had ever seen, just like Irileth had predicted.
She hooked her good arm through his elbow, still beaming, and tugged him away from the gaping hole in the ground. He followed, not shaking off her touch. Another happy flutter bubbled up inside her.
“Help me get back to the inn,” she requested sheepishly. “I marched here in a huff, and now I can’t remember my way back. Half the paths are buried under the rubble.”
“Moron,” he chuckled. “Hold on a second.” She watched him crouch and press his gloved hand to the earth, closing his eyes in concentration. A rumble vibrated through the soil, and then new, damp earth was pushing up from the ground where the hive once existed, filling up the cavernous tunnels the arachna had carved under the village. “There.” He stood up and brushed his hands together, knocking soil from his glove. She noticed his breathing was very slightly laboured again, but it was outweighed by his blasé display of incredibly difficult magic. “Now we can go.”
“Do you have any idea how powerful a normal elemental has to be to do what you just did?” Elda gawked, her eyes fixed on the mound of earth until he guided her far enough through thevillage that she couldn’t see it anymore. The cost to manipulate the earth to such a degree would kill a mortal creature. That was why only the Spirits were blessed with elemental power.
“I control all four elements equally well,” he said, shrugging like it was normal. “I need strength to handle the Behemoths and Leviathans, and I need to be capable of forging weapons strong enough to contain the essence of the Spirits. My power is bolstered by the fact that I’m the Soul Forge, to make sure I can do what needs to be done. Besides, a job as shitty as mine has to have some perks.”
“You said magic hurts you, though.”
“Umbramancy does,” he nodded, “because it isn’t technically mine. Vel and I can utilise each other’s magic. I give mine willingly; he doesn’t. Taking it from him is painful if I have to use a lot.”