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

his eyes to adjust, though the Vigil seemed to take considerably longer. Their party stalled as their vision corrected.

Leaving the dark confines of the tunnel, their passage led through a large cave before exiting to a spacious clearing. Tall grasses and wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, fenced in by the arboreal wall of the forest. To the right, along the western edge of the opening, the remnants of an ancient structure lay in a state of disrepair. Nestled in the corner only a few meters from the wall of the mountain and trees, its timber walls and roof had long since collapsed, disintegrating into mounds of earth. The short, stone foundation stood out above the wild grasses, with several stone pillars marking the corners where a fence had once stood.

The forest that surrounded them sent Ryl's heart racing. Though the call was nothing more than a lingering trace, he could feel the hint of the Erlyn in its trees. He was curious to see what would happen were he to attempt to connect with the forest. He quieted the impulse, fearful of the effect it would have on his strength. The thought of ascending the stairs at the culmination of their journey was daunting.

Away from the confines of the city and back into the light of the day, the attitude of their escort had taken a noticeable turn. The Vigil joked amongst themselves as they made their way from the clearing, joining a small path leading into the forest. Andr stepped close to Ryl as they reclaimed their order in the slow procession.

“They have no fear. They've never experienced anything worthy of that sentiment,” Andr whispered. “You know the death that lurks outside the boundaries of the forest. While there is no sign, or hint of danger, you must always keep your wits about you.”

Ryl surveyed the woods that surrounded the path. The eerie silence and calm was familiar.

“Always keep your guard up,” Andr concluded his lecture.

Ryl cracked a small smile as he nodded in acknowledgement.

“How are you holding up?” Andr asked changing the subject.

“I feel strong today,” Ryl responded confidently. The walk had so far produced no ill effects and for that, he was pleasantly surprised. There was still an unknown distance ahead of them, as well as the return trip home. The day was still young. Even if they were to pause for a rest, he saw no reason why they wouldn’t be able to make the return trip to Vim before nightfall.

“Please let me know if that changes,” the mercenary said thoughtfully. “Though I prefer not to do it again, I’ll carry you back home again if I have to.”

Andr flashed him a devious smile before falling back into line behind the phrenics. The procession marched in single file along the winding paths of the forest. Ryl was confident that they’d entered the woods traveling in a southerly direction. However, the twisting paths they’d followed since then exited both right and left onto various crisscrossing trails throughout the woods. His sense of direction was hopelessly confused. The dappled patches of light that worked their way downward through the trees did little to assist.

After an hour of steady, yet sluggish travel, the group paused along the bank of a small stream that bisected their path. The soldiers of the Vigil filled water skins, before lounging carefree among the trees. The sound of their laughter echoed through the surrounding woods. Kaep stood on the opposite bank of the stream, her eyes scanning the forest with cautious intent. Ryl took up rest, leaning his back against the rough bark of a slender tree.

Andr signaled softly to Ryl before tossing him a water skin he pulled from the small pack slung over his shoulder.

“You seem to have forgotten yours, my young friend,” Andr joked.

Ryl chuckled to himself, shaking his head before thanking the thoughtful mercenary and drinking deep. He threw the skin back with slightly more force than necessary. Andr moved off to refill it from the clean water of the stream.

“We aren’t far now,” Paasek intoned, stopping beside where Ryl sat. “Once we ford this stream, it is perhaps another mile before we arrive. You should be able to feel it soon. The remnants of the old woods are still strong here. They still possess a sliver of the energy they once contained.”

“What is the area like?” Ryl asked, his curiosity piqued. “Every location the Erlyn chose to reveal was unique.”

“A fine observation, my friend,” Paasek admitted. “This one is likely no different.”

The phrenic lowered himself into a crouch beside Ryl.

“We call it the Prophet’s Tree,” Paasek began. “There is a large clearing ahead. The earth there rises up into a massive dome. The woods will thin out before clogging into an impassable mass around the border of the clearing. Set on the center of the dome is a tree unlike any we’ve found in the forest, one we’ve only read about in teachings of the phrenics of old. The tree is a willow. Its massive branches stretch down to the ground creating a curtain, concealing the area under her boughs. It’s in that guarded interior, against the knotted base of the trunk, that the prophet comes.”

Paasek finished detailing the area with reverent care. His eyes viewed the surrounding forest with wonder. Ryl understood the feeling all too clearly.

Ryl closed his eyes as he thought for a moment, inhaling a deep breath of the forest air. The hint of the Erlyn that had been present since they exited the mountain had grown subtly. The miniscule changes were so incremental that he had failed to register their increase. The feeling remained distant and faint. Ryl couldn’t help but feel a slight hint of apprehension. There was a peculiar sense of unease he couldn’t quite place. He attributed the feeling to the casual and relaxed attitude of the guards combined with Andr’s warning.

Their brief respite came to an end shorty after. Ryl guessed that the hour had passed midday as the