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

“Blood has already been spilled. Time and time again,” Ryl argued. “Countless families have been slaughtered mercilessly for the unwanted and unplanned alexen in their child’s blood.”

Anger had been building inside of him at the thought, and Ryl’s responses were flavored with more force than he'd intended. Taking a deep breath, he regained control over his surging emotions, sending a wave of reassurance over those assembled in the room. If Paasek noted, his face never betrayed his acknowledgement.

“There is no turning back for me. My hands were bloodied before I left,” Ryl spoke softly. “The old master sent assassins to murder me in Tabenville, the northernmost settlement. It was by my hands they died.”

Andr's eyes went wide at the statement. Ryl had never mentioned the assassination attempt to anyone. He stopped short of recounting the master’s demise.

“There will undoubtedly be some with which a show of force will be necessary,” Ryl growled. “I believe this can be accomplished with little to no loss of life.”

Paasek nodded his head slowly in understanding, the devious smile growing on his face.

“You forget that to virtually all outside of the walls of this city, the phrenic don't exist,” Ryl reiterated. “All record of their society, their deeds, their powers, even the name itself have been erased from the annals history.”

Silence descended upon the room. Ryl again scanned the faces of those assembled, finding hope added to their list of emotions that played out across them.

“Nielix, you are aware of what the phrenics of old could do, were you not?” Ryl asked the Vigil. The man shook his head slightly as his face wrinkled into a look of scorn. “What was your reaction seeing what powers Paasek and Kaep still held?”

“Disgust. Betrayal,” Nielix hissed.

“Set aside your petty hatred for a moment and answer the question,” Ryl commanded. “Were you surprised by what the phrenics could do?”

“Yes,” Nielix screamed. “I don’t see what the point of this is, boy.”

“The point of this, Nielix, is simple,” Ryl barked back at the condescending Vigil. “You’re a trained soldier. You’ve been raised in a society where powers like you witnessed were once a fact of life, and yet still you were surprised. What reaction do you think would be garnered from a public who has never heard of these powers in anything other than myth or wild fantasy?”

Nielix remained in his chair. Ryl thought he caught a brief glimpse of understanding flash across his face. Whatever the fading emotion was, it was quickly replaced by an air of annoyance.

His point had been taken.

“It may not take more than a simple demonstration of these powers to command the entirety of the guard to lay down their weapons,” Ryl spoke to the crowd. He needed to add no additional persuasiveness to his voice; his words commanded attention.

“And what if they don’t run? What if they don’t cower before the almighty phrenic?” Nielix asked quietly.

“Though they’ve caused more pain through inaction or deed than I can likely forgive, I do not seek their deaths,” Ryl admitted. His voice was quiet, yet it echoed through the crowded chamber. “If it’s a fight they desire, it will come for them at a catastrophic cost.”

For a moment the room stood in silence. Not so much as a hushed exhale was audible through the chamber.

“Assuming you can gain entry into The Stocks, how will you go about rounding up the tributes? And how do you escape?” Irie pondered. “Though the guard may be pacified, resistance from the King will not be so lenient. They will assuredly not let you parade through the city to freedom.”

“That I understand,” Ryl said. “If we time our entrance with the annual Harvest, there will be no need to round the tributes up. All will be delivered to one location, in Cadsae, only steps from the Pining Gate. As for escape, I had another idea entirely.”

The council as one sat forward eager to hear Ryl’s next thought.

“The Erlyn,” he stated plainly. “Unlike here, there is still power in her branches. We will use her for shelter, as did the phrenics of old.”

“And the wall?” Paasek questioned. “What do you intend to do about that?”

Ryl smiled at the phrenic.

“Walls can be broken, or walls can be scaled,” he said. “Where the Erlyn meets the western palisade, there could only be resistance from the top of the wall, or the border of the forest. No guard would dare linger beyond the western side. The Outlands maintain domain over that side. To them, only death resides there.”

The vision of what truly lurked beyond the western palisade was now shockingly clear. The lingering hint of the putrid smell of death and rot assaulted his senses. Andr spoke up as images of the Horde gave Ryl pause.

“The walkway that stretches the width of the east and west palisades are only matter of meters wide,” Andr added. “It would take very few to hold the wall while the others climbed up and over.”

Ryl turned his head, flashing a thankful smile to his friend. He knew Andr out of all those assembled would need no convincing.

“Who will help pull off this foolhardy plan of yours?” Nielix scoffed, surging to his feet. “You can’t think that Vim will willingly send any of its sons, its daughters? Or is it our phrenics you seek to assist you in what will amount to nothing more than suicide?”

“Nielix, your input is valued,” Councilwoman Irie snapped. “Yet you far overstep your place. This is a decision for the Council. Not you.”

Nielix opened his mouth to retort. Councilwoman Lenu, the Council representative to the Vigil slowly rose to her feet, crossing her arms across her chest. Her rigid jawline was pronounced as she gritted her teeth together. The muscles of her arms flexed. Her posture and the slow shake of her head stole the fight from the incensed Vigil. He fell back into his chair with a groan. He continued, in a thankfully more