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

pillars of light that forced their way through the canopy fell in vertical shafts to the forest floor. The party moved back into their line with the Vigil again taking the lead as well as guarding their rear. They crossed the small stream with ease, hopping across the large, flat stones that jutted from the gurgling water.

True to Paasek’s words, Ryl could feel the sense of the Erlyn growing as they made their way further into the woods. The makeup of the forest had changed after crossing the small stream. The undergrowth thinned substantially, the bushes and brambles remained in scattered, random patches. Ferns and grasses dotted the space between them. Lanky deciduous trees stretched into the sky, their lowest branches still well above their heads. The tall, broad leaved trees were fewer in number and spread out at greater distances.

The terrain had grown increasingly rocky. Scattered throughout the surrounding trees, moss covered boulders of all sizes dotted the forest floor. Just as quickly as the forest cleared, the area closed in, choked by the mass of brambles that were familiar to the Erlyn. The path narrowed as the party squeezed through the undergrowth.

The sensation of the Erlyn grew rapidly as they stepped further into the dense path. As the feeling increased, so too did the curious feeling of apprehension. The light from the clearing ahead spilled into the pathway, illuminating the dim forest. Beyond the silhouettes of the Vigil, Ryl could see the opening, just a few short meters away.

The lead guards ambled further on as they entered the massive clearing. Ryl stepped out of the forest into the warmth of the light. An incredible sight lay before his eyes. The clearing was massive, spreading out in a circle that stretched hundreds of meters in diameter. The ground on all sides angled gently upward to the center, forming the dome on which the impressive tree stood.

The Prophet’s Tree.

The branches of the magnificent willow stretched downward, stopping as they reached the ground. The view of the interior was entirely hidden behind a wall of leaves that shifted slightly as the swirling breeze blew around the tree.

The grandeur of the sight stopped Ryl inadvertently in his tracks. Andr and Paasek had carried on and were a few paces ahead of him. The last of the trailing Vigil was just now entering the clearing. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and a slight pulse of energizing electricity. He turned his head to find the smiling face of Kaep.

“Don’t delay now,” she said. “The prophet awaits.”

Chapter 34

Ryl glanced beyond the phrenic at the Vigil that had bottlenecked behind him. Most were apathetic to the delay, though the eyes of Nielix stood out from the rest. Anger still smoldered in their depths. With a venomous snarl, he looked away, pushing past as he started up the hill.

The lead members of the Vigil had covered nearly half the distance between Ryl and the tree. A hundred meters separated them from the concealing veil of the enormous willow.

Without warning, the hint of discomfort he'd noted on the periphery of his senses blossomed into a sudden wave of panic. The sensation carried with it the voice. A single, unmistakable word echoed in his head. The voice was frantic in its emphasis.

It was a familiar voice, one which Ryl would never forget.

Da'agryn’s voice.

“Run.”

Ryl took a step forward, calling out to his companions that had forged ahead.

“Stop now,” he hissed to the forward group. The desperate tone of his voice broached no question to the seriousness of the request.

Andr wheeled in his direction, sword partially drawn from its scabbard. Paasek’s hand closed on the handle of the greatsword strapped to his back. Kaep removed her bow from her shoulder, reaching for an arrow with her opposite hand.

To a man, the Vigil looked confused at the warning. The unfounded aggression from the phrenics and Andr only added to their concern.

The wall of weeping branches surrounding the willow shook subtly to the right as if being jostled by an unseen hand. The top branches in the center of the tree blew skyward for an instant before slowly falling back into place. Tiny leaves fluttered silently as they rained down toward the ground.

“Something's wrong,” Ryl gasped. “Do you feel it? The Erlyn, it's gone.”

All traces of the Erlyn had vanished. In its place, only an inky, cold darkness remained.

His hand closed on the end of the solitary member of the Leaves strapped to his left arm. The shimmering green blade flashed to life unbidden the moment it cleared the holster.

Andr's blade sung as he tore it from its sheath.

“Vigil. Weapons ready,” Andr shouted to the confused soldiers.

With few exceptions their responses were sluggish and half-hearted.

“Now,” Andr reiterated his order. “Fall back to the woods.”

The words hadn't finished cursing from his lips when the first blackened, disproportionately shaped body crashed through the arboreal veil in an explosion of tiny leaves.

Harriers.

The Outland Horde.

A wave of lanky bodies followed the first, their rough skins so dark red they appeared almost black. Their screams sent a shiver down his spine.

From the other side of the rise the Horde sprung to their feet from where they had concealed themselves in the tall grass behind the earthen dome. Their shrieks and wails mixed with the sounds of their compatriots into a blood curdling chorus that shook the forest.

Ryl dipped into the power flowing through his veins—time slowed to a crawl. He felt the familiar heat surge through his body. Flipping his glowing blade to his left hand, he launched himself forward. With the power inside flowing freely, the Horde slowed to a fraction of their original speed. Andr and the Vigil were nearly frozen in comparison. Kaep and Paasek’s motions still flowed at a comparable rate to that of the Horde.

Even with the speed at his command, Ryl knew the front line of the Vigil was doomed. He was halfway to them when the mass of harriers tore into their line. Many