The Defiance of Vim (Catalyst Book 4) by C.J. Aaron (graded readers txt) 📕

“They remained quiet throughout the night.” The captain’s voice was hushed, haunted. “After the last of the screams from the city stopped, they fell silent.”

He turned to the captain as the man spoke, noting the startling change in his demeanor since the evening. Looking beyond the man, his soldiers fared no better. Many shook visibly. The fear written across their features was telling.

Ryl’s vision darted to the motion to the southeast. The Kingsway leading into the city was teeming with activity. A dense formation of cavalry led the way, guiding tens of thousands toward the city. From the distance, the thunder of their boots on the ground was still but a low rumble.

The king’s army had entered the fold.

To the west, the last traces of the storm dotted the sky, thinning as it spread far to the south. The ground below seemed to have absorbed the darkness from the previous night. As far as his eyes could see, the open avenues of the city, the terrain of the Estates and beyond, swarmed with a sea of blackened bodies. The sheer numbers were staggering.

In the myths of his childhood he’d heard tales of the army so large it blanketed all that could be seen in a writhing layer of black. In the experiences of Caprien, he’d witness but a fraction of their size, though the numbers were daunting. Though he knew more of the truth, could feel it through the combined experiences of the alexen within his blood, the reality far exceeded his imagination.

“The Horde, it’s as if they pay no attention to their approach,” Fay gasped.

Ryl squinted his eyes as he glared into the distance. There at the center of the formation, the vanguard of the army, was the answer to Lord Eligar’s musing.

A group of seven rode at the head. Black cloaks flapped in the sea breeze as they marched onward.

“The Lei Guard commands the king’s forces,” Ryl growled.

The whisper from within assaulted his senses as it forced itself upon his thoughts.

It called for blood.

For a massacre.

With it came a subtle hint of fear that startled Ryl with its presence. A melancholy so potent it was nearly debilitating. It was desperate.

Devastating.

It was hopeless.

There was more, something off to the sensation. None who stood atop that wall could look upon the sights before them, including Ryl, without fear. He was terrified. The odds were overwhelming. Yet, beneath the dark, desperate feelings was a hint of something unexpected.

Longing.

The emotion was so out of place, so sinister. Its appearance was an anomaly. It disguised itself among the dark emotions yet illuminated the true intent. Ryl cursed himself for a fool.

Without a moment’s hesitation he scanned the surrounding area with his mindsight. He viewed the city through the lenses of both eyesight and his phrenic abilities. There, hidden among the first buildings on either side of the alley, was the cause. Disguised as the subtle fading of the dense blackness of the Horde, the charcoal wisps of shapes had gone unnoticed.

Their attack had been so subtle, so gradual, he’d failed to note their assault. Lei Guard, under the cover of night and the overwhelming darkness of the Horde, had crept to the front. They waited, holding the Horde in check. Secreted away inside the relative security of the houses that bordered the edges of the courtyard, he couldn’t distinguish their numbers. Their gradually swelling attack was no longer a mystery.

Ryl closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the alexen in his veins. He begged for their forgiveness for what he was about to do. For what he was unable to accomplish. He had set out to save them all. The tributes who’d languished in The Stocks for far too long were free. He’d failed the tributes who’d been corrupted into the Lei Guard. He knew he’d not be able to save them all.

The alexen rushed through his veins, beginning with its familiar warmth. The calm that flowed in its wake was a balm to the dread of what was to become.

The alexen understood what must be done.

Ryl focused on the most potent feeling he could picture. It had brought him from the depths of darkness before. He’d call on it once again.

Hope.

He exhaled a slow steady breath as he let the emotion flow from his body. He pushed the wave out to his sides, blanketing the soldiers who stood at arms beside him. To his left, Cipri shuddered. The captain’s eyes, when their gaze met Ryl’s, though the fear remained, were burning with determination.

“Averine’s left a surprise for them.” Ryl grinned. “It’s time.”

He reached behind his back, retrieving the Leaves with both hands.

The captain jumped as the blades erupted with searing green fire.

Ryl held the blades low and out to his sides while a pair of archers on either side lit their special loads. The rag-covered projectiles, soaked in pitch, burst into flame as they came close to the blades. Their heads burned bright green as they withdrew them, carefully taking aim.

“Let none cross where the wreckage of the stairs remains,” Ryl warned. “Save your arrows for any who try. Don’t shoot into the fray.”

The captain nodded in assent.

Ryl met Fay’s gaze. The bows of the archers on either side creaked as they drew their flaming cargo.

Ryl inclined his head at his friend.

“Fire,” he yelled.

Chapter 46

Ryl dipped into the speed a moment after the bowstrings released their flaming projectiles. The arrows traced a glowing green trail through the still of the morning. He darted to his right as they arched toward their marks.

The gap that had opened in the low stone railing after the destruction of the stairs had been rebuilt. The repair, cobbled together with necessity and haste, was little more than a pile of heavy stone and rubble. Ryl stepped carefully along the thin railing as he approached. His enhanced agility made easy work of the precarious footing. As he reached the barrier, he leapt outward from the wall.

The liberating sensation of weightlessness