Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) by C.J. Aaron

Author:C.J. Aaron [Aaron, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2020-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Ryl had fallen asleep quickly. His exhausted body demanded succor. It was through sheer, stubborn will that he hadn’t asked Kaep for help walking during the final stretch to his residence. Andr’s arrival in the middle of the night had gone unnoticed, yet the mercenary was already up when Ryl woke. The sun had yet to crest over the mountains though the sky was beginning to show signs of its arrival.

“Good morning, Ryl,” Andr greeted him with a smile.

Ryl stretched with a yawn rising gingerly from his bed.

“Morning. I know the Council asked for an early start, but this is earlier than I expected,” Ryl noted.

“No. The Council may be strict, yet from all I can tell, they aren’t cruel,” Andr joked as he finished strapping his sword to his belt. “I have an early training session with the Vigil before we set out this morning. Once you’re ready, I was to inform you to head to the Hall of the Phrenic. They’ll be expecting you.”

Andr hurried from the room, leaving Ryl to dress and prepare in peace. The mercenary had left a small plate of food alongside the cup of water on the table by his bed. Ryl sat as he ate the small meal of dried sausages and bread, marveling at how sensory the process had become. The tastes, the textures, the smells of the simple fare were all heightened to a state far past what used to be their norm.

His legs felt strong after the debilitating weakness he’d encountered the previous night. In his mind lingered the fear that his strength would fail him today. Merely the act of 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.

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