The Weight of Darkness (Catalyst Book 5)

by C. J. Aaron

  Ryl panted as the last notes of the scream thundered from his lips. The sounds that reverberated throughout the room were not his own, neither were they a result of the alexen that flowed through his veins. The dark, twisted feral voices echoed the sounds of the Horde. He closed his eyes for a moment, issuing a single emotional command.

  The Lei Guard responded in kind. They respected power. As one, they pivoted where they stood. The solid line that constricted upon Ryl and his companions’ position now focused their attention on the gallery without.

  They respected him.

  A high-pitched ringing note sang in Ryl’s ears. The damage from the volume of the roar had been done, yet outside, the chamber was deathly silent. Viewing him from the raised seating above, the nobles, the sycophants of the kingdom, now watched him with unrestrained fear. Again, the only individual to meet his withering gaze was Lord Kagran’s son. The young man remained where he had stood before. The curious look on his face now registered an expression of disbelief.

  Ryl shuddered at the sudden chill that ran through his body. His vision fell to his left arm as the ripples of cold emanated from the appendage. The tattoo of the sun had again inverted. Where the swirling orb of fire had once remained, only a writhing mark of blackness remained. It covered the entirety of his arm, wrapping up over his shoulder and stretching down beyond his wrist. The back of his hand was the battleground preventing the darkness from taking complete control over his limb. From just above his knuckles to his fingertips were the only pieces of unmarked skin that remained.

  At his shoulder, though the sensation of the heat, of the alexen rushing through his veins was muted, he could feel their struggle as they held back the darkness from assuming more control. The darkened whispers from within growled with increasing volume. Ryl squeezed his fist as he watched the undulating line of clear skin push back against the darkness. He closed his eyes, issuing the same emotion command that had turned the Lei Guard.

  The power was his. He would answer to the call of none other than his own will.

  The silence that followed was deafening.

  Ryl opened his eyes, pivoting his head so that his vision met with his companions. The looks of surprise were noted across their faces, though they met his gaze only for an instant before maintaining their attention on the threats that still surrounded them. He nodded as he made eye contact with Andr. The mercenary grinned, replying with a subtle inclination of his head.

  His attention returned quickly to Kagran, still pinned under the weight of the unawakened, held to the ground by the blade at his throat. The eyes of his friend, though they burned with the untrained power of the alexen, were focused on him. The expression of shock mingled with a hint of fear.

  “Palon, let him rise,” Ryl ordered as he moved forward. In one fluid motion, the unawakened rolled from the back of the king, though there was no kindness as he leveraged his weight on the back of the struggling man’s head, forcing it into the stone as he rose. With blade still in hand, he backed slowly from Kagran’s writhing figure.

  A few meters to the side of the lord’s prone figure, the child remained. Ryl could feel the subtle warmth of the budding alexen pulsing off him with every racking, noiseless sob. He stopped at the child’s side, leaning down, placing his hand on the child’s back. The sensation of comfort that flowed through his body felt foreign. A dim representation of the power he’d grown accustomed to. It was as if the light of the emotion was clouded by the darkness that he’d given in to. Nonetheless, the effect was dramatic.

  Wiping the tears that still wet his face, the boy’s eyes locked with his. Inside the child’s eyes, the expressions shifted in constant flux as the emotions raged through his mind. From fear, to confusion, to wonder. His hand reached up gently, running his fingers across the brand on Ryl’s neck.

  “You’re like me,” he gasped between sobs.

  Ryl felt himself choke on the surge of emotions that bubbled up from within. The pain of the trauma written across the boy’s face sparked the memories of his own persecution. The crippling fear. The utter devastation. The terrifying confusion and emptiness of his own childhood. He relived the experiences one after the other, feeling the agony of every moment of absolute misery.

  The Lei Guard took an ominous step forward, toward the gallery, rippling with anger as his emotions ran unchecked. For an instant he considered releasing them on the perpetrators of the evil that had stolen his and so many other lives. The atmosphere of the room darkened with his mood like a shadow blotting out the sunlight that streamed through the windows above.

  Retribution would be paid in blood. Revenge would be theirs.

  Ryl exhaled the breath that had caught in his throat, relaxing the tension that gripped his body. The fire burned in his eyes as his gaze locked onto the child’s.

  “You’re not alone,” he whispered. “Come with me. I’ll not let them harm you again.”

  The youth nodded his head rapidly as he struggled to his feet. Though his body still quivered with fear, he wrapped his fingers around Ryl’s, following him as he led him back to his companions. A step before the group Ryl paused again, bending down close to the child’s ear.

  “My name is Ryl,” he whispered. “These are my friends. We came to help you. What’s your name?”

  The child’s eyes widened as his gaze rolled over the group standing before him. The collection of warriors stood defiant in the face of overwhelming odds, yet they showed no fear. Weapons of all makes were held with anticipation in their hands. Fire burned, coating the arm of one; the air surrounding his tattooed skin rippled as it was distorted by the heat. Lenu stepped forward, sheathing her sword as she reached out her hand.

  “My name is Pater,” he sputtered softly into Ryl’s ear.

  “Well, Pater, this is Lenu,” he offered, placing his hand gently on the child’s back, ushering him toward the Vigil commander. “Stay with her.”

  Ryl rose to his feet as the child shuffled away into the awaiting hands of the Vigil. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged up on the corner of his lips.

  “You will pay for what you’ve done.” Lord Kagran spat a wad of blood from his mouth as he leveraged himself up to his knees. “Kill them.”

  His screams roared through the room.

  None moved at his command.

  “You will answer to me,” he shrieked, his body convulsing with anger. “I am the king. I control the Blessing. You. Will. Obey.”

  With the emphasis on every word, his skin seemed to darken a shade. The subtle hints of black peeked up from underneath the jewel-encrusted collar of his shirt. He spun madly in place, cursing at both Lei Guard, his soldiers and nobility alike. None moved to heed his call.

  “Your power has been nothing more than a farce,” Ryl announced. “You will pay the price for the taint that stains your soul. You’ve existed off the power stolen from others. The Lei Guard cede authority to strength alone. Your words no longer hold sway over them.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable,” Lord Kagran growled. His gaze grew wild as the desperation set in. “You may save this tribute. The Blessing will sustain us. Will sustain future generations for an eternity. You only delay that which will continue. You will never find that which you seek. You and your cursed kind can chip away at the stone for an eternity, yet you’ll never reclaim that which is rightfully ours.”

  Ryl’s anger stirred at the statement.

  Rightfully ours.

  The words had a taste that was toxic. Ryl’s gaze hardened for a moment, squeezing into slits of pure, burning rage.

  Ryl let a single laugh escape his lips as he took a measured step to his right.

  “You underestimate our resolve,” he hissed, though the force behind his words was measurable. “You underestimate what true strength can accomplish.” He looked back over his shoulder, nodding to Paasek, who remained only a step behind.

  “You can feel it, can you not?” Ryl inquired of the phrenic cou
ncilor. “The hint of blackness that lies beneath this stone.”

  The phrenic squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on the mindsight. After a moment, he opened his eyes, looking curiously at Ryl.

  “There is only a trace, a fleeting wisp of shadow, yet I can see it,” he exclaimed. The phrenic councilor lowered his gaze to the floor, padding in a small circle at the center of the room. After a moment he paused, sinking to a knee, placing his right palm flat on the floor. Ryl watched as the elder phrenic inhaled a deep breath, holding the volume in for a moment.

  The air hissed from his mouth as he released the breath. From deep below the floor, a low murmur quickly crescendoed into a rumble, a grating of stone against stone. Sharp cracking sounds tore through the chamber; the floor vibrated with a steady tremor. The tile under the hand of the phrenic fractured; the deep cracks spread out like a spider’s web. After a moment, the center of the tile caved in, forming a jagged hole in the stone.

  Paasek’s chest heaved with the exertion. His head slumped forward as he moved his hand to the side of the opening. His arm locked at the elbow, supporting the weight of his stony frame. Ryl peered into the depths of the chasm created in the floor. The opening was narrow, too small for a body to fit between the rock, yet it ran straight, free from obstacles. At the base, the glow of a brightly illuminated room shone in the dark. A waft of air laced with a familiar putrid odor billowed up from the concealed chamber below. It was a scent that was forever etched into his mind. The stench of the Horde, the taint of the nexela, was unforgettable.

  He’d experienced the blend on several occasions. Once in the facility in the shadow of the Martrion ruins, another in the facility in Leremont.

  The Blessing. The hope of the corrupted nobility lay beneath.

  Within a moment, two faces appeared in the opening far below. The animosity was written clearly across their aging faces, though shock and curiosity registered in their expressions. Their shouts of anger filtered up through the opening. Ryl noted the telltale white robes of the menders.

  “The labor of generations resides within that chamber,” Kagran cried as he stumbled forward. “You know not what powers you meddle with.”

  Ryl’s right hand wrapped around the wooden shaft of one of the Leaves, wrenching the dormant weapon free as he surged forward to meet the approaching lord. The blade flashed to light in an explosion of green flames. Kagran’s progress stymied as the flaming point of the serrated blade was leveled at his neck.

  “I understand all too well what lies in that room below,” he cursed. His voice thundered throughout the chamber as he held the fuming lord at bay. “The lives of thousands, stolen to feed your insatiable greed, reside there. Today is the dawn of a new age. An age where the Ascertaining Decree is no longer a fact of life.”

  His eyes scanned the stunned crowd as he continued.

  “Today, amends will be made for the sins you’ve all perpetuated,” he boomed. “Today, we level the field.”

  Ryl stopped as his gaze landed on Vox. Flames still rippled from the phrenic elementalist’s arms.

  “Vox, if you please,” he hissed.

  The elementalist padded silently across the chamber; the fire spread down his arm, condensing around his fist. Ryl could feel the heat swell as he approached. Vox stopped a step from the hole, extending his hand out before his body. The ball of fire sparked as it spun, floating a hand’s width above his palm. His eyes locked with Ryl’s for a moment.

  The alexen in Ryl’s veins cried out with emotion. They tore through his veins as the excitement, pent up for ages, released in anticipation.

  He nodded to Vox.

  The phrenic elementalist wrapped his fingers around the solid ball of flame, squeezing it for an instant before turning his hand over.

  An agonized wail spilt from the lips of Lord Kagran as Vox released the fireball.

  Chapter 47

  For a moment only the high-pitched yowl of Kagran filled the hall. Echoes reverberated through the room, a pathetic reminder of the agony in his voice. The thump of the detonation of the fireball was muffled, yet the room trembled as the shock waves travelled through the stone. A blast of heat and black smoke billowed from the hole. A lingering hint of black mist settled to the floor before evaporating into the air.

  He fell to his knees, blubbering as he openly wept. Grief spilled from the mouths of countless nobles surrounding the chamber. Some collapsed to their seats. Others raised their hands to the sky. Some merely stood with mouths open in disbelief. Ryl noted Tev moving slowly down the stairs, squeezing through the ranks of Lei Guard to the chamber floor.

  “You have no idea what you have done,” the lord sobbed; tears mixed with the blood that trickled down his cheek. His body quaked with emotions; the revulsion mingled with the utter despair as they threatened to tear his consciousness in two. The stain of the nexela, the black streaks, climbed further up his neck. He snapped his jaws together with an audible click as his mind descended into madness.

  “I know exactly what has been done,” Ryl thundered. “The evil of generations has been addressed. The hierarchy of order will no longer be ruled by the Blessing. By the murder of families and the enslavement of children. The timeless rule ends now. How many here have overstayed their natural existence? Your greed, your arrogance have doomed you. Blinded you to the taint that has controlled your lives. With the destruction of your precious elixir, there will be nothing to sustain you. You will fade fast. There is no gold in the world that will prevent your demise. Make good of what little time remains.”

  Ryl surveyed the faces of the assembled nobility. Their expressions largely matched that of their king, though the reaction played out more deeply across his features. A few voiced their protest at the perceived injustice; others cursed his existence with a vehemence inbred for ages. Some wept quietly, their heads cradled in their hands.

  “Your facilities have been emptied and razed to the ground.” Ryl projected his voice, overpowering the cacophony that issued from the crowd. He needed no added emotion to ensure that the true sentiment of his statement was understood. “The Ascertaining Decree ends today. The testing of children is now a thing of the past. This era is a stain on the history of a once proud and thriving kingdom. Never again will a family measure the love for their child in gold.”

  Ryl paused as the uproar reached a frenzied pitch. He lowered the burning blade toward the ground, stepping back from Lord Kagran, who now twitched and writhed on the floor, staining the pristine white tiles with streaks of crimson. Reaching into his pocket, he collected the single vial of the Blessing he’d recovered from the doomed facility in Leremont.

  Silence descended upon the chamber. He let the hush linger for a few moments before speaking.

  “There will be tests in the coming days, weeks and cycles ahead,” he announced. “You, those who have borne witness to this event, will be the messengers. You will spread word of the changes this day has brought. Your compliance is not requested, but required. This will be your test.”

  Holding the small vial above his head, he swished the liquid about. The viscous, black substance clung to the walls of the vial.

  “I hold in my hands the last measure of the Blessing of the King that any of you will ever see. What will you do for it?” Ryl paced slowly across the center of the auditorium. He scanned the faces of those circled around the chamber. The ones not on their feet rose purposefully, slithering forward toward the low railing. Unfiltered greed seeped from their very pores; their faces morphed into snarls of feral uninhibited desire. The blackness that had corrupted their very souls leached through their skin. Like Kagran, thin streaks crawled up the necks of many among the group. These were the highest echelon of the kingdom. Held in the greatest esteem as the nobility, the vaunted nobility of Damaris.

  He found them severely wanting.

  Tev alone stood apart from the others. His eyes darted from face to face as he watched the lords and ladies he likely knew morph into something wholly u
nhuman.

  “Well?” Ryl hissed. “There is only enough for one.”

  The last note of his challenge hadn’t left his mouth before the answer became appallingly clear.

  They fell on each other with the rabid ferocity of caged beasts.

  The Hall of the King descended into pandemonium in an instant.

  Bloodcurdling screams of rage filled the room as the true nature of the attendants became shockingly clear. Draped in more wealth than many citizens would see in a lifetime, they turned on their fellow men and women. By rule of the ages, weapons were permitted by attendees of the Deliverance inside the hall. Several made concerted efforts to wrest blades from the kingdom guards who ringed the upper level of the chamber. Many were pushed back, yet in a few places, they overpowered the helpless soldiers with sheer numbers. Having disarmed the guards, they fought amongst each other for possession of the weapons.

  Others among the stands fought with whatever they could scrounge from their surroundings. Most fought with fists and feet. From every corner of the room, blood was spilled, staining the hallowed chamber.

  “Enough.” Ryl’s command boomed through the Hall of the King, echoing off the vaulted ceiling high above. Among the crowded nobles, a few ceased their brawling at his command. With renewed vigor, their incensed neighbors, sensing weakness, sensing blood, turned on them.

  Ryl closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing his left fist together as he corralled the strength of the darkness that resided in him. With a thunderous roar, he released the emotion. A wave of paralyzing fear washed over the room. Several of the nobles, having spilled from the angled seating during their brawling, toppled backward, scurrying like prey from a predator as the feelings crashed over them. Throughout the chamber there were several bodies who remained motionless among the seating.

  “Restrain them.” Ryl boomed the command to the Lei Guard, who had remained motionless throughout, ringing the floor like vicious specters. Their movements were wraithlike; the force of their emotions was crippling, though they followed his orders without question. With the entrance of the black-cloaked guard, the fight sapped from most of the incensed nobility. Here and there a corrupted few pursued their quest for power, challenging the armed Lei Guard with fists, broken pieces of furniture, or anything they could use as a weapon.