Page 122 of Soul Forge

The Soul Forge followed reluctantly, turning back to catch one more glimpse of the bones by the pillar. He allowed himself to be towed for a while, waiting until he felt the strange pull in his chest before taking the lead again.

His feet carried him to what had once been a park, the grass long since dead and gone. The large pond was empty, its bed littered with the skeletons of large fish. In the centre was an ornate fountain, its base cracked, the statue of an angel reaching for the skies missing one arm and both of its wings. Scorch marks stained the ground and the fountain. Part of its stone basin had been heated to such high temperatures that the stone had melted, sagging in on itself.

Sypher’s gaze lingered on the statue of the angel for a moment until the dried, burned husk of an ancient bush captured his attention. Something glinted dully inside it,severalsomethings – shards of what looked like metal scattered among more bones. He frowned, and Elda saw his throat bob when he tried to swallow the nerves she could feel welling up inside him.

She fought the urge to stop him when he approached the skeleton and reached out, her heart thrumming so fast she was starting to get dizzy. The thought of him touching whoever had died in that bush made her palms sweat, a shudder rattling her spine.

The Soul Forge let go of her hand, and she had to bite down on her protest, reminding herself that it washislife being laid bare. This was his past, his knowledge to learn. She looked to Irileth, who gave her a reassuring nod.

“This...” Sypher trailed off, kneeling before the loosely arranged skeleton and carefully pushing the bush aside. His breath was ragged, his fiery eyes widening. A tremor ran through him. “I know this body, too. How?”

“Fix what is broken, Battle-born,” Irileth repeated softly.

Elda could see him teetering on the edge of losing it, his ability to think disintegrating right in front of her eyes. She drew closer and saw that the scattered pieces of metal were the remains of a weapon. The hilt was still embedded in the broken rib cage, other parts still wedged in various bones or lying on the ground now the pierced organs were long gone. It was the remnants of a sword, but it looked like a piece was missing.

Elda gasped. "Your pendant. Sypher, the metal on your necklace,” she whispered, eyes wide. “It must have come from this!”

He shook his head hard enough to send strands of pale white hair into his eyes. His hands trembled, a flurry of emotions blasting through the bond so suddenly that Elda had to grip hisshoulder to steady both of them. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said hoarsely. “I know these people somehow, El. I don’t want to learn what else I’ve lost.”

“You’re not alone.” Elda took both of his hands and squeezed them. “I’m with you. Let me help you.”

He nodded once, watching her reach for the pieces and arrange them in the rough shape of a sword. They were rusted and crumbling, but they definitely fit together. Sypher set to work, fusing the warped shards as best he could. The magic he was gifted to craft the vestiges heated the metal until it glowed. He worked carefully until all of them were re-joined. All but one. He took the pendant out of his collar, staring down at it resting on his shaking palm.

“Wait,” Reiner cut in, her brow creased with concern. “Just wait a minute. What happens when you join that last piece?”

“You lookpetrified, Sy,” Julian added. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Julian is right,” Gira agreed. “You’ve managed so long without knowing where you came from. All I see around you is pain and death. Knowledge that you’re safer living without.” The shifter turned his gaze on the Spirits, taking a pleading step towards them. “Surely this is something that can be avoided. Hasn’t he been through enough?”

“Sypher cannot become who he is supposed to be without it,” Cerilla answered firmly.

“Fine,” Sypher muttered, squaring his shoulders and slapping the last piece of the sword into place before anyone could stop him. His fingertips glowed as he sealed it with his forging magic, the edges turning molten under the heat that poured from his touch. Finally, the last shard fused with the blade and made the rusted weapon whole again for the first time in almost a thousand years.

Elda gasped and threw her arms up, shielding her eyes against a flash of light so bright it blinded her. A flurry of memories fluttered behind her eyelids quickly enough that she couldn’t make sense of them. The afterimage of a pair of dark, outstretched wings seared itself into her vision.

Sypher staggered to his feet when the light faded, one hand pressed to his temple as he stumbled back a step, the other clutching an immaculate black sword. He blinked, shaking his head to clear the fog, and then he looked down at the skeleton by his boot with an expression so empty that it made Elda feel like the ground had fallen out from underneath her.

“These bones,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “They’remine.”

“They are mine, aren’t they?” Sypher asked. His voice echoed an unsettling hollowness back at Elda. Cerilla nodded. “You sent us here to retrieve my sword before Cynthia found a way in and took the pieces.”

“If she found them, you would never have learned what the other half of your soul is,” Cerilla admitted. “Malakai was counting on it remaining a mystery.”

“He knows what I am too?” Sypher asked, the fire in his eyes flickering wildly.

“Please, dear one,” she begged. “The sword is fixed, but your work isn’t done. Touch the bones. Learn the truth.”

Elda made a strangled noise and grabbed his wrist to stop him, staring at the small girl in horror. “You can’t really expect him to do that!” she yelped. “You’re asking him to lay his hands on his owncorpse!”

“El.” His tone was soft, defeated. It cracked something in her.

She turned to look up at him, and that crack in her heart splintered, a shard breaking off at the agony and exhaustion in his eyes. Tears welled up and threatened to spill down hercheeks. He flashed a broken, tender smile, sending her sorrow cascading down her face. His whole world was crashing down around him, and he was wiping away her tears with his thumb like she was still his biggest concern.

“I don’t want you to see what they want to show you,” she half-sobbed. He’d been through so much. His body bore the evidence ofyearsof pain. Lifetimes of it. “You don’t deserve this.”

The screaming premonition haunted her. All that pent-up agony and rage, all the sorrow and fear, all of it was about to pour into Sypher, reopening wounds he never even knew existed. He hadso manyscars already.

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