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

the pursuit of art seemed like an ill-placed focus. Although beautiful, art was a concept he had not been afforded the luxury of coming to understand.

“I see that look on your face, Ryl,” Mender Brasley intoned. “I never said that study and practice of writing, sculpture, painting and other finer arts, though their effects are profound, were our only focus. You’ll learn soon enough.”

The mender chuckled to himself as they made their way past the second of the artisan workshops. Another alley separated the building from a massive arrangement of pillars. Brasley and Kaep stopped off to the side of the walkway. At first glance, the large stone columns formed a rectangle around an open plot of land stretching several hundred meters to the north and easily half that distance to the west. Giant, ornately carved slabs of stone rested atop the pillars spanning the entirety of their arrangement, creating a narrow roof around the outer edge of the rectangle.

As they approached, Ryl could see that the opening between the pillars was in fact cut into the ground. Descending into the earth at a relatively steep angle were tiers of benches carved from stone. At several evenly spaced locations, stairways separated the seats allowing access to the lower levels. A low stone barricade marked the end of the viewing area from the flat surface several meters below. The seating was arranged so that from any location among the seats one could have a complete view of the colosseum’s inset arena. On the far side from where they walked, a raised dais stood above the surrounding bench seats, jutting out from the uppermost level.

The ground inside the center of the colosseum appeared to be a well maintained, hard-packed earth. On the ground level, a single, large opening was cut into the wall on either side below the lowest level of seating. These exits were blocked by heavy wooden doors, leading to unknown areas underneath the structure.

“The great colosseum has seen many performances, artistic, theatrical, and of course martial,” Mender Brasley added. “You see, we are much more than just a society of scholars.”

With a smile, the mender turned, leading them onward around the side of the colosseum, before heading north following the road alongside the edge of the mountain. A string of grand facades were etched into the cliff face, replacing the narrow entrances to the residences that had lined the exterior wall.

As they passed the first, Ryl felt an unusual wave of calm pass over him. The welcoming feeling he'd grown accustomed to while surrounded by his fellow tributes in The Stocks, slammed into him with an unexpected force. He balanced himself against Andr, earning a concerned look from the mercenary.

The narrow vertical slits that ran along either side of the door gave no indication of watchful eyes from within. Ryl hesitated before sneaking a momentary glance with his mindsight. If not for the steady arm of Andr, he'd have toppled to the ground. His mind, however, was focused; keenly aware of the mass of glowing signatures that had appeared in his vision.

Kaep, being only a pace in front of him had glowed the brightest. The building to his left held a score of others. His focus broke as he again stumbled over his feet; the effort of the momentary view with his mindsight sapped far too much of his flagging strength at the cost of his coordination.

“I’m ok, Andr,” Ryl offered preemptively. He saw the eyes of his friend squint with a look of slight suspicion. “I’m getting tired. I’m eager to sit.”

Andr nodded knowingly.

“How much further is it, Mender?” Andr asked abruptly.

“It’s there,” Brasley pointed. “Just ahead.”

The next facade carved into the face of the cliff was the most elaborately adorned and the largest they’d come across during their circuit of the city. A massive fluted pillar reached out from the face of the rock on either side of the entranceway. The columns stretched upward nearly twenty meters, capped on top with a flat ledge that extended out from the rock. The face of the cliff above the entranceway had been sculpted into an intricate arboreal scene that felt uniquely familiar. Ryl looked upon the tall trees, creeping vines and thorny brambles as if he was viewing the Erlyn herself.

A dozen stone steps spanned the roughly thirty meters between the pillars, leading to a pair of large, wooden doors. As they ascended the stairs, the right section of the door swung inward as if waiting on cue for their arrival. The thick wooden panel moved noiselessly on its hinges, stopping as it reached the rock wall. A single guard stepped forward holding the door ajar as the party entered the chamber. He wore a long sword comfortably at his hip, and carried a decorative, yet deadly looking spear in his hand.

The doorway led into a narrow entryway. The decorative pillars lining each wall were the most spectacularly sculpted displays he’d seen to this point. The walls and floor were made of the same flawlessly carved and polished stone, easily reflecting the light from the chandelier burning overhead. At the opposite end of the entryway, a second set of wooden doors stood closed, and a guard stood in front of each panel—their crossed spears blocking access to the chamber beyond.

To their left, a large desk stood out from the wall, a closed door behind it. An elderly man sat at the desk's only chair, his head down, a pen in his hand scrawling in a ledger on the table in front of him. The party paused as Mender Brasley approached the desk. After waiting a prolonged moment, Brasley cleared his throat, alerting the aged man to their presence.

His head inclined slowly; his gaze lingered behind. He purposefully placed his pen down alongside his ledger before greeting the Mender with a nod. He craned his neck to the side, viewing Ryl and Andr with curiosity. Ryl felt his examining eyes as they travelled the length of his body.

“Ah, so these