Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) by C.J. Aaron (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📕

moved to the south. He scanned the distance with his mindsight incessantly. His vision remained thankfully clear.

With few exceptions, the group remained quiet and reserved throughout the travel. Nielix hadn’t spoken more than a few words since the attack in the woods, and those were only in direct response to questions. Ryl wasn’t near the point of forgiving him; his careless action had caused the death of a valued friend. However, his downtrodden attitude was almost more grating than the open animosity. From the corner of his eye, Ryl caught sight of the Vigil’s horse tracking a determined line toward his, though the man's head still hung low.

Andr noted the approach, hastening his pace, stopping just off the flank of Ryl’s horse, providing a buffer between the two.

Nielix drew up alongside Andr, and his head raised, his eyes locking on to Ryl’s. The look in them was tormented. The animosity was still there, yet it was now overpowered by sadness, fear and the overwhelming self-doubt that failure brings.

“Please let me speak before you say anything,” Nielix’s voice wavered. “The full weight of Deyalou’s death lands squarely on my shoulders. For that, I take full responsibility. It is a burden I will forever bear.”

Ryl suppressed the urge to rebuff the comment with effort. Nielix would reap no sympathy from him.

“I am sorry that my actions led to his death,” Nielix whispered. “I don’t ask for your sympathy, or for your forgiveness. I came to say thank you. Thank you for saving me even though I didn’t deserve the effort. A man far better than me died. Yet when you had the chance, you spared me anyway. I can’t say that I would have done the same if our places were switched. I need to know, why did you stop that blade from ending my life?”

“It is true, you will find no sympathy from me. The path to forgiveness will be longer,” Ryl said quietly. “You have skill that is unmatched among your peers, yet you let your actions be ruled by petty jealousy and hatred. Yet, I do not seek your death. What's done had been done. There's no changing that. Let your actions from this moment forward be that which defines you.”

Ryl spurred his horse forward. He'd said what he needed to say. The wound was still too fresh. He had the foresight to see that nothing good would have come from extending the conversation. He felt the hint of anger burning in his veins, yet he respected the man for saying what he had.

Andr rode up beside him, leaning in close.

“You showed more restraint than he perhaps deserved,” Andr whispered. “Well done, Ryl.”

The mercenary turned his horse, slowly plodding his way to the back of the column to relieve the rear guard.

Shortly after midday the following day, Aldren called a stop to the slow procession. Ahead of them a second road branched off from the first, leading toward the west. The track they’d been following had veered slightly to the east of due south, leading them away from the mountains. Looming over the trees in the distance, set atop a large hill and overlooking the surrounding lands was the crumbling ruins of a once powerful stronghold.

“Those, my friends, are the Martrion Ruins,” Aldren said with a grand wave of his hand. “As legend holds, they were the home of Taben the Defender before his conquest over the demons of the Outlands. At least that is what the myths say.”

The phrenics exchanged a knowing glance. None more so than Ryl; they were all keenly aware of the awesome power the ancient phrenics held.

“We split here,” Andr announced. “Dav, Soldi, Nielix, you're with me.”

The Vigil moved with purpose, leading their horses to an easy canter.

“Stay safe. We'll see you in Serrate, my friends,” Andr winked as he wheeled his mount, riding quickly to catch his companions.

Ryl repressed a feeling of remorse as he watched his friend ride into the distance. Andr had been his steadfast companion over the countless miles. They had traveled through the uncharted wilds and back to the kingdom they’d fled.

“Cade, it’s time for you to take your leave as well,” Aldren said confidently as he patted his son on the shoulder. “You have an important task ahead of you. One in which I know you will not disappoint.”

Cade stared at his father for a long moment before wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Stay to the roads by day and Inns by night,” Aldren gently reminded his son. “Keep the message safe.”

Aldren patted his hand against his son’s chest, over his right breast. Under the fabric of his clothing, the carefully folded and sealed missive remained.

“I will, father,” Cade said. His words rang clear with impressive confidence.

Cade quickly alighted from the head of the wagon, gathering his carefully arranged pack, and tucking a small dagger in its sheath under his belt. He mounted the last remaining, unburdened horse they’d retained from the Lord’s assassins.

He looked back at his father one last time. There was no hiding the moisture in his eyes.

Goodbye, father,” Cade mumbled.

“Stay safe, my son,” Aldren responded, his voice wavering as he spoke. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

After a moment's hesitation, Cade turned his mount, hurrying along the southern road.

Aldren watched his retreating form for several moments. All were silent as the merchant took in the last few glimpses of his son.

“You’ll be reunited soon, my friend,” Ryl said as he poured a feeling of hope over the merchant.

Aldren cracked a small smile in response. He took a long, slow deep breath.

“Aye. Let us be on our way then,” the merchant announced as cheerfully as he could muster. “Darkness waits for no one. We still have a long, slow ride ahead of us.”

With a flick of the whip, Aldren's horses began their march onward. The collapsing spires of a long-dead house loomed ominously in the distance.

Chapter 51

Ryl and the phrenics rode in slow procession following Aldren and