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

walking should not have been a cause for consternation. With how aggressively the exhaustion had crept up on him the night before, Ryl was cautiously optimistic he’d make it through the day.

Remaining idle in his room, biding the time until their party was ready to depart was not a welcomed proposition. His curiosity at meeting the one Vim referred to as the prophet was too great a desire. The call for answers too luring a temptation.

He crossed the room to where his new pack sat undisturbed on the floor alongside the couch.

Now that his presence had been announced to Vim, all knew of the power lurking within his blood. Ryl lifted the pack, placing it on the end of the couch. The bag was a considerable upgrade from that which he’d carried with him into the Outlands. His last pack, a low-quality remnant of The Stocks, had been cut into strips, used to create the sled that aided Andr in dragging his unconscious body.

He opened the pack, carefully retrieving his ancient phrenic cloak. The contact of the soft fabric with his skin was energizing, erasing the hint of doubt that his strength would remain. He pulled the high collar up, covering much of the brands on his neck, yet he left the hood down.

The final contents of his bag were the Leaves, still slumbering in their hastily modified holsters. With almost reverent care, Ryl strapped the holsters onto each arm. As with the cloak, the feel of the wood against his skin was invigorating. He resisted the overwhelming call to bring the shimmering green blades to life. The combination of the Leaves and the cloak felt natural, as if they were extensions of his body. The replete sensation was a startling contrast to what he'd experienced moments earlier. He felt naked when they were absent.

Shrugging off the disparate awareness, Ryl left his small room, heading along the avenue toward the Hall of the Phrenic. The street was eerily quiet at the early hour, though he passed several people heading purposefully to their destinations. The closer he moved toward the square, the more evidence remained as a reminder of the previous night's festivities. Looking up the Northfate through the central square, he could see a small group of people diligently sweeping refuse into a pile alongside a large wooden cart.

The avenues around the colosseum looked to have been freshly swept as he approached the Hall. Ryl hadn’t made his way past the hulking structure when the first tendrils of a familiar feeling tickled his senses. The welcome sensation he'd grown to understand as a sign of the alexen blossomed as he neared. He could sense the phrenics as if they were standing next to him. Ryl needed no mindsight to know that they were close.

The exterior of the Hall of the Phrenic was impressive, like the rest of the structures that comprised Vim. The large fluted pillars were carved directly from the mountain’s side. Stretching up some ten meters, they supported the ornately carved awning that spanned the distance between them and stretched out several meters over the avenue. Tall, narrow slits in the flattened stone face between the pillars served as windows into the hall, though the curtains hung on the interior blocked the view inside.

As if his arrival was foretold, the massive single door to the hall swung silently inward. The warm light from the glow of several lanterns spilled out onto the pre-dawn street. Councilor Paasek emerged from the interior, greeting Ryl at the entrance.

“Welcome to the Hall of the Phrenic, Ryl. You’re earlier than I expected,” Paasek noted. Ryl opened his mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but Paasek interrupted him before the words could escape.

“No matter,” boomed the phrenic. “Well, the scout detail’s awaiting your arrival. Come, come.”

Paasek put his tattooed arm around Ryl’s shoulders, gently ushering him into the hall. Ryl was again astounded by the feel of the man’s arm on his shoulders. Both the weight and texture of his skin matched the rock-like appearance of the markings.

The phrenic leaned in close, speaking quietly as they made their way to the open door.

“The cloak fits like it was made for you,” Paasek admitted. “It’s an appropriate look. You'll wear it well.”

Warm air, laced with the hint of smoke, spilled out from the interior of the hall, blanketing Ryl in a comforting aura. The morning air was cool, and the heat escaping from inside seeped into him, soothing his body to the core. They entered into a large rectangular room which was surprisingly the least adorned room he’d set foot in within the city limits.

Like the other surfaces around the city, the walls were smoothed, yet here, their faces showed the cracks and weathering of the ages. At the far end of the hall a fire burned away in a large fireplace carved into the stone wall. A door stood to either side of the fireplace; the right was closed, the left opened onto a poorly lit hallway. Two sets of doors flanked either side of the hall though all were shut. A large, rectangular table dominated the center of the room, with twenty identically carved wooden chairs lining its perimeter. The four closest to the fire on the right side were occupied.

Paasek closed the door behind them. The clicking of the lock as it closed echoed through the nearly empty hall. The four seated at the end of the table rose as Paasek and Ryl made their way across the room.

“Ryl, allow me to introduce you to the scout detail that you will accompany once you’ve completed your recovery and learn to maintain a better grasp on your skills,” Paasek dictated. “You know Kaep, she is the vanguard for the detail. To her side is Deyalou, Ramm, and Vox. You will come to know them all like family in time.”

All four greeted Ryl with pleasant smiles, nodding their heads politely as Paasek announced their names.

It was the first time Ryl had seen the faces