Chapter Twelve…

The sunlight slanting through the window woke Elda the next morning. She sat up and yawned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed with the intention of heading to her terrace so the fresh air could wake her up properly.

“Morning.” The deep voice startled her enough that she almost fell off the mattress, a scream catching in her throat. Sypher arched an eyebrow at her from his perch on the window bench, an open book clutched in one hand. His armour was on, the hood down to reveal his face.

“Spirits, I forgot I wasn’t at home,” Elda gasped, pressing a hand to her chest over her racing heart. “You’d better not have slept there last night.”

“I didn’t.” He stood, crossing the room to slip the book back onto his small shelf. “I’m healed enough to travel now.”

“Are you still in pain?”

“Not really.” He stretched his wings out and tapped her gently on the side of the head with one of them, surprising her with the contact. “Get dressed, Princess. Don’t forget the cloak. You’ll be sleeping outdoors tonight.”

“Why are we sleeping outside?”

“If you don’t mind announcing our arrival to Horthan, we can stay in his castle instead,” Sypher offered.

“Ah,” she balked. “No, thank you.”

“I thought you might say that. I’ll meet you downstairs. We have time to eat something and then we need to leave, unless you want to get caught in another rainstorm.” He left the room before she could reply.

When she was dressed and her pack was stuffed with her things, she clipped the cloak around her shoulders and bounded down the stairs, flashing Edward a bright smile when she spotted him standing behind the bar. His green eyes twinkled in greeting.

“Good morning, m’lady. I hope you slept well.”

“I did, thank you. Your inn is lovely.”

“Thank you,” the half-Orc nodded gratefully. “Your angry companion is over in the corner. Let me know if any of the food I prepared isn’t to your liking.” She chuckled and turned to find Sypher looking out of the window he sat beside. His hood was up, shadows concealing his face again.

“You seem deep in thought,” she remarked, sliding onto the seat opposite him and picking up a fresh bread roll from the platter on the table.

“I’m planning our route. We have to skirt Falkryn’s borders, which means avoiding his soldiers. I dispatched a Keeper to help the valleys in my absence, so we don’t need to worry about the extra time it’ll take.”

“Why can’t we just fly straight through?”

“If we’re spotted in Falkrynian territory without alerting the monarch, he’ll take it as a personal insult. I don’t want to give him another reason to hate Eden.”

“You think he’d attack the city with you as our ally?” she asked with a frown.

“No, but Rhydian is an idiot. I tend to expect stupid decisions from him.” His head dipped. “Our flight should take the rest of the day. We’ll camp outside the southern border for the night, and the following day we should approach Valdren on its east side. If you’re still happy to fly with me, that is.”

“I wouldn’t say happy, exactly,” she admitted. “Getting dropped out of the clouds was horrifying for me.”

“I was referring to what happened when we landed.”

“You mean when we crashed.” He made an irritated noise, making her grin. “As long as you don’t eat me, I’m okay to fly with you still.”

“I don’t eat people.”

“It was a joke. Lighten up.” She pointed at him with the bread roll. “You were so calm last night. I’d even go so far as saying you were nice. What changed? Did I snore?”

He shook his head. “No, I was just tired last night. I’m rested now.”

“So you should be in a better mood, not a worse one.”

“Just eat your breakfast,” he muttered, grabbing an apple and getting up. She watched him stalk outside and shook her head.

“Pardon me, m’lady,” Edward said, appearing at her elbow. “May I ask again why you like him? He’s horrible to you, and yet you smile at him like he’s telling you a joke.”

“I’m used to people treating me like I’m delicate and precious,” she shrugged. “I kind of like the contrast.”

“Wait until you get used to it,” the bartender chuckled. “The Keepers have often found their tempers wearing thin with him.”

“You’ve met the other Keepers?”

“Not me. My great grandfather met one many years ago, back before he turned to Malakai.” Elda’s ears perked up at the mention of the Corrupted. “Abraxos was a farm boy from around here. Sypher pulled him from the burning wreck of his home and raised him to adulthood.” Edward folded his thick arms across his chest. “My grandfather was disappointed when he heard Abraxos was Corrupted. He believes Sypher did what he could to make up for the boy’s loss, but obviously it wasn’t enough to keep him on the right path. He often came in here to drink and complain about the Soul Forge before he switched sides.”

“Why would he complain about Sypher when he saved his life?”

“By all accounts, the Soul Forge saved him, but left his mother to burn.” Edward shrugged. “I don’t know how much of that I believe, but that’s the story I was told.”

“I’d ask him, but when I speak it irritates him,” she shrugged.

“Everything irritates him. It’s not just you.” He shot her a sideways glance. “I’ll leave you to your meal, Your Grace.”

“Please, call me Elda. I’m not a Princess out here,” she chuckled.

“It was lovely to meet you, Elda. I wish you luck on your journey.” He excused himself, leaving her to eat her fill before she eventually made her way outside.

Sypher was talking to a local woman with a baby perched on her hip. Elda watched, fascinated, as the baby reached out to him to get his attention. He bent so the child could grab his hood, reaching in to try and find his face through the shadows. The child giggled in delight when its chubby hand found his cheek, and the mother chuckled. Nobody seemed the slightest bit in awe of him out here, not like they were in the city.

Elda sidled over with a smile on her face, and the mother immediately dipped into a curtsey. The elf put her hands out, taking the woman by the elbow and encouraging her to straighten up. The baby reached for the end of her braid.

“Please, there’s no need for that,” she beamed. “My name is Elda.”

“Sorrel, Your Gr-…Elda.” Sorrel greeted tentatively.

“And who’s this?” She leaned down to smile at the baby, seeing up close that she was a little girl with wide brown eyes and short, fluffy brown hair.

“Adelaide,” Sorrel answered, beaming down at her lovingly. “She likes Sypher very much. You’ll have to let her see your face one day, you know.”

“My eyes would frighten her off,” he answered gruffly.

“How do you know?” Elda asked, grinning when the infant grabbed her finger.

“She’s a baby.”

“So she has no idea what fear is yet,” she shrugged, glancing up at him.

“I agree,” Sorrel nodded. “You can’t hide behind the hood whenever you’re afraid, Soul Forge.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Of course you are,” Elda giggled. “You’re petrified. Of a baby.” Her goading worked. He let out a heavy sigh and pulled down his hood. Adelaide stared up at him, blinking her beautiful eyes slowly.

“There, Addie. You can see his face now,” Sorrel cooed. Adelaide giggled and reached out to him, chubby hands opening and closing desperately. Sypher frowned. “She wants you to hold her.”

“I don’t hold children.”

“You do now.” Sorrel put Adelaide against his chest, and when he automatically moved to steady the baby, she let go. He looked down at the infant in his gloved hands like she was a lit stick of dynamite.

“Relax. You’ve dealt with much scarier things than her,” Elda chuckled.

“I disagree. I’m holding Sorrel’s whole life in my hands right now,” he muttered, frowning at the child. Addie patted his chest plate curiously, babbling to herself.

“My whole life is beautiful,” Sorrel answered gently. “Life is to be enjoyed, Sypher, not avoided.” Elda’s eyebrows rose when Addie reached up and grabbed his cheeks, not in the slightest bit disturbed by his strange eyes. Her tiny face broke into a broad smile, revealing four little white teeth.

Sypher’s expression softened more than Elda thought possible, his shoulders relaxing. The corners of his lips quirked upwards, showing her a glimpse of something she knew was rare for him; warmth. Her view of him shifted yet again, moving further away from the rude, obnoxious soldier she’d first met. Underneath his bad attitude was a different person entirely.

He blinked like he’d forgotten where he was, holding Addie out to her mother awkwardly. When Sorrel took her daughter back, he touched her tiny cheek tenderly, just for a second. Elda smiled so much her face started to ache. He said goodbye to Sorrel and turned away, catching her grin and scowling.

“Don’t say a word,” he warned.

“I promised to shut up yesterday. Today is a new day.”

“Do you want me to drop you on purpose this time?”

“You’d catch me,” she shrugged. “Addie wasn’t afraid of you at all.”

“Maybe her development is stunted.”

“Or maybe she recognised good when she saw it.”

“Demons aren’t good,” he argued, pitching his voice low as they walked away from the village.

“You’re not all demon.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” Elda argued. “You spend most of your time as this, not the demon. You’re heavily influenced by this side of yourself, but you disregard its worth completely.”

“There’s a good reason for that.”

“I wouldn’t know your reasons, would I?” she countered, arching an eyebrow at him when they stopped beside the road leading into the village.

“You won’t goad me into revealing my secrets. Stop trying.” He turned away and bent his knees so she could reach his shoulders. “Get on.” She was barely seated when he shot into the air, wings beating fiercely until they were high enough that the people below looked like ants.

“Do we have to fly this high?” Elda squeaked.

“Yes. Stop choking me.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday.” Deafening silence followed her jibe for a moment.

“If you talk about that again,” Sypher ground out, “I will drop you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t test me,” he warned.

“Would you rather I talked about the bath I gave you?”

“That’s it,” he growled, and Elda yelled when he let go of her thighs and rolled, tipping her from his back. Her stomach lurched horribly as she fell for a split second. Something constricted around her ankle, arresting her fall abruptly. She strained to look up, seeing Sypher’s fingers wrapped around her boot.

“I’m sorry!” she called out, clapping her hands over her eyes. The ground was so far away that it made her dizzy at first, but eventually she peeked out from between her fingers, relaxing enough to breathe evenly. Being upside down was uncomfortable, but when she realised he wasn’t actually going to drop her, she calmed down enough to notice the view. It was stunning; a panorama of greens and sky blue all around her.

Her stomach flipped when Sypher swung her upwards, displaying an impressive amount of strength. Her body turned in the air and he caught her outstretched hand instead. A laugh bubbled up her throat.

“Did you just laugh?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course I did!” She grinned wildly, staring out at the landscape far below with a strange sense of elation and adrenaline. “This is amazing!” They were hovering in the air, his wings beating steadily as he looked down at her and frowned. A moment later, he lifted her in one easy tug, his arms catching her waist.

“You’re odd,” he stated. His face was very close to hers.

“How so?”

“The other Keepers hated flying.”

“I keep telling you, I’m not them.” She glanced at the distance beneath them, looking for a change of subject before she could blush. “How am I getting onto your back again?”

“Are you sure you trust me enough to switch midair?”

“You haven’t failed to catch me yet,” she chirped. He arched an eyebrow, the faintest upwards quirk catching the corner of his mouth, and then he tossed her high enough to make her heart pound, using his elemental magic to buffet her upwards with the wind. She giggled when she reached the apex of her flight, feeling like she was floating for a second before her body began to dip downwards. Sypher banked wide and positioned himself beneath her, flying up to meet her as she fell. He timed it perfectly, his hands locking round her lower thighs the moment she touched his back. She grabbed his shoulders and whooped in excitement, feeling freer than she’d ever felt in her life.

“So odd,” he murmured again, almost too quietly for her to hear. She was too interested in her surroundings to question him, drinking in the beautiful vista she’d been so afraid to enjoy the day before. She found herself envious of his ability to look at the land from above.

“I can’t believe you get to do this whenever you feel like it,” she commented eventually. His head turned slightly, giving her a glimpse of the side of his face.

“It’s hard work.”

“Yeah, but look at the result!” She sat back and threw her arms wide, enjoying the wind on her face. “You’re incredible, you know. The things you can do are beyond imagination.”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

“No, I don’t like your attitude. But I’ll change that eventually.” She put her hands on his shoulders again, leaning round to see his face. He gave her a sideways glance, one eyebrow arched. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You are. You’re looking at me like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t,” he shrugged.

“How many Keepers have you let clean your wings while you sleep?”

“…None.”

“And how many saw your demon on the first real day of their adventure?”

“Also none.”

Elda nodded triumphantly. “And how many of them still smiled at you after days of you being a complete grouch?”

He sighed. “None.”

“So I’m not the same as them, am I?”

“So far, no. Don’t hold your breath though, Princess. I don’t trust you. I won’t until you’ve spoken to Irileth. I know how that conversation will go, and when it’s over and I’m right, you’ll have to accept that we aren’t friends.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “But if you’re wrong, are we friends?”

“Sure,” he snorted bitterly. “If I’m wrong we can be best friends.” There was a sarcastic edge to his voice, but it didn’t dampen her Spirits.

“I can’t wait to make you eat those words.”