Page 9 of Soul Forge

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him in the flesh.

“Soul Forge,” the king greeted, smoothing his cloak while Meridia sat slowly back on her throne. Reiner studied him shrewdly, folding her arms over her silver chest plate. Elda stared unabashedly, too overwhelmed to control her expression.

Sypher inclined his head respectfully. “King Hrothgar.”

“What brings you here to disrupt our banquet? You never responded to the invitation. I assumed you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t intending to, but the Spirits have decided otherwise.” Sypher turned his eyes on Elda, his scorching gaze burning right through to her soul. The Spirits reallyhadsent him. But not for her, surely?

Yet he continued to watch her like she was the reason he stood among the court. She found herself wondering what sort of creature he could be. He was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

“What business is important enough to pull you away from the outlands?” Hrothgar asked curiously.

“The selection of the newest wielder.”

The room rattled with exclamations of shock and unrest, none of which seemed to bother Sypher in the slightest. Elda’s brows shot up towards her hairline. A wielder was there? In that room? She looked around, wondering which of the many faces wouldbe revealed as the latest hero of the continent. What would they face? Would they succeed? Would this wielder be the one to take down Lord Malakai?

She prayed it wasn’t Horthan – with the power gifted to the wielders, he was more likely to join the ranks of the Corrupted than rescue Valerus.

“Alright, quiet down now,” the king called out, silencing the sudden chatter. His face had paled beneath his beard. “The new wielder is here?”

“She is. The Spirits have chosen the princess.” The hall went so silent that Elda was sure everyone could hear the sudden, thunderous racing of her heart trying to smash its way through her ribs. Every eye was on her.

Me. It’sme.

“The Spirits have chosenElda?” Hrothgar echoed, his expression mirroring hers. His brows were in danger of brushing his crown, and his eyes were wide enough to show all the whites. Meridia had gone pale beside him, hands clutching the arms of her chair.

Elda swayed in her seat, turning slowly to face the Soul Forge. It was too big, too silly. She could barely even hold a sword. How could she be chosen to fight demons?

“They have. The engagement must be stopped so I can begin her training,” Sypher insisted, his eyes flicking between her and the disbelief on the king’s face.

Elda clung to the edge of the table, her heart beating in her throat. For a moment, the ground seemed to disappear from underneath her, the sounds of the people in the room fading to nothing beneath the roaring of blood rushing in her ears. She was a wielder.Her. How couldshebe a champion? Was this a hidden punishment? Was she being spared from Horthan’s torment just to be torn apart by demons later?

“Unacceptable!” Horthan bellowed, his cry cutting through her panic. Her thoughts fell silent, her attention hanging on whatever the Falkrynian would say next.

He stepped forwards to stand beside the Soul Forge. His bravado was immediately ruined by the fact that he was several inches shorter than Sypher, who didn’t flinch at his protest. “Whatever training the princess needs can begin after the wedding. Bring the wedding date forward if you must.”

He still wanted to marry her? Her heart squeezed in fear. She hadn’t considered the possibility of being forced to wedandgetting pushed into fighting monsters. She didn’t dare to utter another plea to the Spirits, afraid she’d anger them further.

“Lord Horthan, to delay a request from the Soul Forge is an insult to him and to our creators,” the king pointed out. “What the Spirits have asked-”

“Is irrelevant.”

Everyone froze when the Falkrynian lord spoke over the monarch in his own palace. Everyone except Sypher, who rolled his eyes. Elda watched Reiner’s lips twitch into a faint, reluctant smile at his reaction.

“To decline the suitors now, after inviting all of us to your city and having us travel for days, is a slight against each of the kingdoms in attendance,” Horthan asserted. “Alliance through marriage is a tradition that has been upheld between our realms for hundreds of years. To break that tradition now would be an invitation to war.”

The room went silent once more, Horthan’s threat hanging in the air the way flies might cling to rotting meat. Hrothgar ground his teeth. He looked like he wanted to tear off the Falkrynian’s head, but he couldn’t seem to find a fitting insult.

Elda turned to watch Sypher carefully, waiting to see how he’d respond. If he agreed with Horthan, she was still doomed.Like her, the entire room waited for him to answer. Fae, elves, shifters, and humans alike all hung on his response.

The Soul Forge nodded. “I understand.”

Elda’s chance at escape was crushed, her chest hollowing out. Even the saviour of the continent couldn’t stop her from being tied to Horthan. She felt herself spiralling, getting sucked deeper and deeper into a well of despair.

“Good,” Horthan sniffed. “Now can we get back to–”

“If you want to do this the traditional way, then so be it,” Sypher continued, cutting him off the same way he’d cut off the king.

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