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

He squinted as his eyes focused on a solitary disturbance rising from the ground, just to the east of the southerly track of the road. The wisp was stained dark grey, climbing into the sky before the ocean winds blew it at a sharp angle further to the north and east.

It was smoke, that he was sure. Yet, from the distance, the evidence of a campfire would likely have vanished before being noted. The signal fires that had burned along the staggered guardhouses, evenly spaced along the palisades, had long since faded out. New tinder was assuredly in place, waiting eagerly in anticipation for the next spark.

For the moment, those keeping watch over the tributes, over the small band of traitors to the crown, knew their prey was contained. They were confined within the depths of the forest. There was no escape other than south. The signals would wait, carefully watching for any signs of coordinated movement.

No, the signal fires weren’t the cause. Ryl’s stomach churned as the realization set in.

Cadsae Proper burned.

He spurred his horse into a trot.

“I can sense the glow. The telltale sign that you share the blood of the phrenics who’ve passed before you is clearer now than ever before,” Ryl called over his shoulder. He sent a wave of compliance to Aelin’s mount as it readily matched his expedited pace. “I long to teach you how to understand and control the rightful, true powers that have been denied to you. It is a hard lesson. The alexen that flows through your veins is a blessing, not the curse that has robbed you of so much to this point.”

From the corner of his eye, Ryl watched the effect of the statement as it carried through Aelin’s young body. His friend inhaled, readying the deluge of spite that was likely to explode from his mouth. His shoulders tensed, shrugging upward. His face reddened, while his knuckles bleached from the force of his fists squeezing together. The momentary struggle subsided, Aelin released the breath he’d collected in a single blast of air. His body deflated; his shoulders slumped, carrying with it his posture as the acceptance of defeat set in.

“The toxin that you’ve been forced to consume since your first day inside this prison has run its course. Your body now has access to the full power of the alexen that flows through you,” Ryl continued. “As much as I enjoy your company, and have missed it over the last cycle, if there was another way, you’d be back in the Erlyn still. The road ahead will be dangerous. I need your assurance that you will follow my command without question or hesitation. There is far more at stake here than revenge.”

Aelin, still downtrodden, mumbled his consent.

“And besides, Sarial will have my head if she wakes and neither you nor I are around.” Ryl grinned as he attempted to lighten the mood.

“You need to understand that we are outcasts beyond these walls,” Ryl continued. “It is true that there are those who will support the tributes at the cost of their lives. Many more would be more than willing to see us enslaved.”

“But why?” Aelin squeaked. His voice was hushed, timid, lacking all sense of the awe-inspiring power contained in his phrenic muscles. “Why would they fear us?”

“Ask and you’ll likely find yourself sifting through more lies and deception than truth,” Ryl acknowledged. “It’s undeniable that some are purely evil. They would willingly seek the elixir that grants them power, that grants them superiority over their fellow man. For others, the answer isn’t so concise. For some, it is fear. Fear for themselves, fear for their families, for the ones they love. Some are content to follow blindly, as it is the way things have been done for since before their parents’ parents were born.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Aelin whimpered. His small frame bounced awkwardly as the horses worked into a steady trot.

“Aye, my friend, it doesn’t,” Ryl commiserated. “I understand how you feel. You’re stronger now that the toxin has been flushed from your body, yet more confused. You have questions that demand answers. I know how you feel. I myself went through the very same thing less than a cycle prior. You have much to learn about the power that flows through you, about the history you’ve never dreamed possible. Do not rush to throw your life away for vengeance just yet. I assure you, there will be time to fight later. The tributes, the world will need your muscle before long.”

Ryl focused, sending a wash of confidence over the young tribute. Aelin sat up straighter though his knowing glance reflected the understanding of what had just occurred.

“Until you’ve been trained, emotions can be your most potent foe,” Ryl warned. “The alexen inside you has a will of its own. Though easily subdued by your own, given enough stimulus, you could easily lose control. I will admit, I’ve done so on far too many occasions, and I’ve very nearly paid the ultimate price on several.”

Aelin fixed him with a look of incredulity. It took sheer willpower for Ryl to resist the urge to cringe. The look bordered on uncomfortable. He’d grown accustomed to it, however wearisome and disdainful it had become. As twisted as it was, he almost preferred the looks of hatred and apathy to those of awe.

Ryl acknowledged that his skills were an anomaly even to those phrenics who possessed the gift of the alexen. They were unbelievable even to the citizens of Vim, who were raised with the knowledge of the history and truth of their comrades. To those who were unaccustomed to these truths, who knew only of magic through the words of myth and legend, Ryl must have appeared invincible.

A mythic creature worthy of worship.

The attitude shackled him to a similar fate as had that of the open hatred.

In one, he was worthless. Despised for merely living. In the other, it was he who knew he was