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

To the confused looks of all gathered at the table, Ryl rose purposefully to his feet, pushing his chair out behind him. He grabbed his shirt from the bottom, lifting it up to reveal the tattooed hand over his left breast.

Chapter 29

There was a collective gasp from the councilors seated across the table. The smile on Paasek’s face grew exponentially. Councilor Heild jumped to his feet with an unexpected force that toppled his chair, sending it spilling across the floor. He raced around the table toward Ryl without a word. Ryl shrunk back as the seemingly crazed man approached.

Paasek cleared his throat, announcing in his clear loud voice.

“Councilor Heild, perhaps you should ask our young friend before you scare him further,” the phrenic councilor announced. The approaching man stopped in his tracks as if his actions to this point had been entirely out of his control. His face flushed red; his head looked down to the ground.

“My apologies, Ryl,” Heild intoned. “In my lifetime, I’ve never seen a transference of power in person, in fact none of us have. I am an artist. The quality of the design is astounding. May I look?”

Ryl nodded his head hesitantly. The councilor approached leaning his face close to appraise the tattoo with discriminating eyes. The intense scrutiny was uncomfortable. Heild whistled, mumbling to himself as he twisted his head from side to side, studying the mark from every angle. Ryl caught the eyes of Kaep as his disquieted gaze traveled the room. He stifled a laugh at her valiant attempt to disguise her amusement.

“Ryl, you continue to prove you are a young man of many surprises,” Paasek broke the silence. “If councilor Heild has concluded his examination, I’m sure I speak for all here when I say I’d be very interested to hear the story behind this mark.”

Councilor Heild giggled to himself as he retreated his way back around the table. He retrieved his toppled chair, resuming his place at the table. To his side, Councilor Oswill shook his head discouragingly.

Once order was restored in the small room, Ryl forged straight into the tale of his encounter within the Erlyn Woods. Without exception, all sat on the edge of their seats listening intently to the unbelievable tale that Ryl relayed. He told of his meeting with the Caprien; the lone phrenic that remained tied to the forest. He described in detail that battle he waged in the body of the phrenic and the agonizing death at the hands of the Outland Horde.

When his story concluded, it was Paasek who broke the silence.

“That in part explains the innate fighting ability,” the phrenic councilor commented. “If what you say is true, and I’m inclined to believe it, you may hold the key inside your blood to knowledge that has been lost for centuries. I pray for your speedy recovery and will await your training as patiently as I can.”

Ryl scanned the faces of the assembled councilors. All viewed him with a discomforting level of awe and reverence. Ryl stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. His eyes felt heavy, his body drained. He longed for a bed and a peaceful rest. The sickness had sapped him of far too much strength. The observant mender was next to reply.

“If there is no more that needs to be discussed this evening, I’d think it’d be in this young man’s best interest to rest,” Mender Brasley intoned. “His road to recovery is still considerable. I fear we’re taxing him too much.”

The councilors looked between themselves. None spoke up with any objection.

“The Council agrees with you, Mender Brasley,” Councilwoman Irie replied in her official voice. “We have much to discuss and much planning to do before we can reveal the newest members of Vim. Will two days be sufficient?”

“That is a question for Ryl,” the mender retorted carefully. “Though I feel it will be enough time. The ceremony should be quick, and I will strongly advise him to refrain from the revelries that are sure to follow. I understand that his presence will undoubtedly be required for some time though.”

“What say you, Ryl?” Irie inquired. “Are you ready to formally take your place among the Phrenic of Vim?”

Ryl paused for a moment of thought before responding. For the first time in over half his young life, he was free. He now had some place he could call home.

“It would be my honor to take my place among the Phrenic of Vim,” he responded proudly.

“Then it will be so,” Irie commanded. “And Andr, while we are all proficient in weapons to varying degrees, I fear that we lack true adversarial experience. We would do well to have the tutelage of a seasoned warrior, one who is more keenly aware of the intricacies of battle.”

“My experience is at your disposal,” Andr acknowledged with a nod of his head.

“Then it is settled,” Irie announced, punctuating the statement with a clap of her hands.

The councilors rose in rapid order, and Ryl and Andr stood in turn. The informal greetings and conversations that followed were blissfully short as sleep tugged on him with renewed effort. Plans were to be made for their public introduction on the day after next. Until then, Ryl was to focus on his recovery.

The walk back to the private apartment he’d called home was long. His energy faded with startling speed. Andr and Brasley had propped him up from either side as they shuffled along the avenue. Kaep, who’d continued to accompany them, bid them farewell, disappearing into the Hall of the Phrenic.

After the grueling walk, Ryl was all too content to slip into the comfort of the bed, foregoing any conversation upon returning to the room.

Sleep was immediate.

Ryl woke to the sounds of hushed conversation from the hall. He rose slowly, stretching out his arms and back before swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Mender Brasley broke off from his conversation and poked his head in