Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2)

by C. J. Aaron

  A splash interrupted their conversation as Andr buoyantly entered his bath. The mender hopped back a step as the water spilled over the edge, spreading out in a wave across the floor. A look of barely disguised annoyance flashed across his face as he glared at the mercenary, who was easing himself into a comfortable position against the side of the inset bath. Andr let out an audible sigh.

  The mender shook his head, as his eyes traveled back to the transference of power tattooed onto Ryl’s chest.

  “Well, my scientific curiosity will have to wait,” Brasley sighed. “Get yourselves cleaned up. I’ll be back to collect you before the sun is down.”

  He backed up another step from the spreading water, shaking his head again before turning to leave the room. At the doorway, he stopped, looking back into the bathroom.

  “Please see that you spend the time until I return resting,” the mender warned. “Meetings with the Council tend to be lengthy. Oh, and I took the liberty of measuring your feet before you awoke. Your new shoes are ready at the cobbler’s. I’ll leave them in your room.”

  He hurried out of the bathroom without another word.

  With the investigative eyes of the mender off the tattoo on his chest, Ryl finished undressing before easing his way into the hot water. With every inch of his body that sank into the soothing liquid, a comforting warmth replaced the aches, the soreness and the general discomfort. Every pore sweat out toxins; expelling them into a sickly film that spread out across the water. Ryl splashed at the coating of grime, sending the polluted liquid running across the floor.

  The room was almost imperceptibly sloped outward toward the edges on all sides but that which they entered from. Running along the edge of the room, a line of short, narrow slits were cut into the floor allowing for the overflow to drain.

  Ryl leaned back, resting his head against the cool stone floor, letting the heat soak through his body. Heated baths were a luxury he had experienced but a few times in his life. His infrequent baths during his imprisonment within The Stocks came care of a hasty dip in the icy waters of the river that bisected the area.

  Ryl’s fingers and toes were wrinkled by the time the pair exited from the baths. The cleansing soak left him feeling refreshed, contented and alive. He waved off any assistance from Andr. The blood seemed to rush through his veins with renewed vigor, as if its path was now open and free from obstacles. A strange sensation rolled through his body, following in the in the wake of his blood.

  He followed Andr silently back to their small room. The hallway appeared more detailed than he’d remembered, and the area was brighter than before. The soft impact of their bare feet on the stone floor echoed in his ears. The rancid scent of the blighted rose remedy was more potent, choking out the air with every inch forward.

  Ryl reached out his hand, sliding his fingertips along the smooth surface of the wall. He traced the lines of the minerals running through the store. He felt every imperfection as if it was a gaping hole in the wall. He concentrated on the enhanced details surrounding him; his mind swelling with the influx of information.

  His new clothes were absent of the scratch he had grown accustomed to from the rough threads routinely issued in The Stocks. The soft fibers were a comfort to his skin as they brushed gently over his body. He felt the tingle from his exposed forearms as the mild breeze that snuck in through the gap at the base of the exterior door jostled the hairs on his arms. What had caused the newfound vibrancy of his feelings?

  Ryl’s mind was a flurry of thoughts as he sat back on the bed in the room. His body felt more in tune with itself and the world then he’d ever recalled. Had the toxin been holding back his perception and the sensations for all these cycles? If so, had his body expelled the poison in its entirety or would the world become clearer still?

  Though his body and mind were refreshed from the warmth of the bath, he was keenly aware of how tired he truly was. After some idle banter with Andr, he excused himself, laying down to rest as they awaited their meeting with the Council. Ryl laid his head back, closing his eyes, attempting to quiet his racing mind.

  He’d come here at the direction of Da’agryn. The mysterious old man had told him he would find his answers.

  Would the Council have them?

  He’d soon find out.

  Chapter 27

  Ryl rested for a short while before the anticipation of the upcoming meeting awoke him from his peaceful slumber. Brasley had left food for them while he slept and he dined alone as Andr had long since finished his portion. As the sun had yet to complete its descent behind the jagged tips of the surrounding mountains, he had opted to sit outside, enjoying the last few rays of the sun's warmth. He rested on the single stone step that separated the small residence he and Andr shared with the neatly paved stone road that formed an exterior ring around Vim.

  The city was still abuzz with a flurry of activity. People moved with determination; their heads held high as they went about their tasks. To his right, carefully manicured fields of crops stretched out in a sea of greens and yellows. He could see the tops of the orchard’s trees in the distance, their branches still laden with unharvested fruit. The heads of the workers popped up, out of the plants they tended, like animals sneaking a view of the surrounding world before ducking back down.

  To his left, two smaller avenues separated rows of buildings before reaching the wide gap of the Northfate. From his conversations with the mender and Andr, he had learned that the nearest building, which shared the opposite side of the avenue with the first field of crops was the school for the youngest of Vim’s children. The building was a two-story affair with the first floor constructed entirely from stone. The second level was constructed from wood. Gleeful laughter of the children floated on the air in random outbursts.

  The next building up the alley was the University, housing the advanced set of classrooms for those closer to the age of adulthood. Similar in footprint to the primary school, the University stood two stories tall. Education had been all but forgotten in The Stocks, yet here it appeared to be held in high regard.

  Distance did little to hide the artful decorations of the buildings. The elaborate design and meticulous attention to every detail was foreign compared to his bland upbringing.

  Even before his life in The Stocks, Ryl could remember no construction nearing the mastery of anything he witnessed now before his eyes. Being but a child, his experience was by no means all encompassing, yet the world that surrounded his youth seemed to have been constructed purposefully plain. In his memory, every drab, sterile building seemed to blend in with the next.

  Carved into the face of the cliff running along the exterior of the road were a series of entrances similar to the one which he rested on. There were few single apartments like the small modified clinic he presently shared with Andr. Brasley had mentioned that these dwellings, carved into the exterior wall were the homes of the original inhabitants of Vim, long before the population swelled to its current state.

  He snapped his mind back from wandering thoughts of the past. Surveying the city to the west, he noted the body of the uniquely shaped mender approaching with another. He'd expected to see Ticco, the ever-present apprentice, so the sight of the woman wearing the single sleeved cloak gave him pause. An intricate tattoo covered the skin of her exposed right arm.

  The woman approached with an intriguingly agile gait; her hips swayed ever so slightly as she glided alongside the mender. Her brown hair captured the light from the setting sun at her back, setting it ablaze with an orange glow.

  Kaep.

  Ryl hadn’t seen her or any of the other phrenics in person since he first awoke two days earlier. He’d searched with his mindsight on occasion though he was hesitant to utilize the skill. Their presence was clearly noted as they moved about the city. In his current state, even the brief visions were exhausting, and fruitless; finding none straying close to his location.

  The face of the mender contorted with mild annoyance as they a
pproached.

  “Tell me you haven't been out for another walk again?” Brasley scolded. “I thought I made it perfectly clear you were to be resting.”

  “Aye, Brasley, that you did,” Ryl responded politely. To his side Andr grinned. “I have been resting. We just came out a short time ago, I needed the fresh air and sunlight.”

  The mender eyed him askance for a few moments as if expecting to have caught him in a lie.

  “Very well,” he said after a moment of careful observation. “The Council is ready to see you now.”

  To his side, Kaep nodded in acknowledgement, a small smile encroaching on her otherwise serious expression.

  “Will you be joining us for the meeting?” Ryl asked the pair of them as he worked himself to his feet.

  “That we will, Ryl,” Brasley answered for them both. “As your Mender and as the vanguard for the scout detail that collected you, Kaep and I have been summoned as well.”

  Ryl, with Andr at his side, fell into position, following on the heels of the mender and phrenic. The party headed to the left, toward the west and the setting sun, retracing the mender’s steps. As they approached the first alley, a steady stream of children bolted from the school’s main double door, spreading out in all directions like water along the earth. The children laughed and skipped as they ran carefree toward whatever destination they chose. He smiled as a young boy and girl weaved in and out of their small party, chasing each other with the reckless abandon only a child can possess.

  Ahead of them lay the main north-south avenue, the Northfate. The avenue ended at the foot of a great stone staircase leading to the buttressed entrance of the tunnel into and out of Vim. The volume of citizens navigating the city’s avenues had increased as the sun had fallen further below the rim of the mountains. Cautious and curious eyes viewed the group as they plodded steadily forward. The press of the foot traffic broke around them like water around a rock. Ryl still felt no animosity in their stares, only a disconcerting mixture of interest and pity.

  Flanking the east and west side of the main avenue were two buildings, their designs virtually identical. Stretching vertically for three stories, the large stone structures were carved with awe inspiring precision. Seemingly every facet of life within Vim featured immaculate design and artistic prowess. The sheer architectural perfection of the buildings before him eclipsed all those he’d examined previously. Though he’d traveled this road once during his failed attempt at rounding the city’s outer loop, his attention at that time was focused on returning to the clinic, not the perfection of the architecture.

  Fluted columns engaged the corners of the building with large decorated square blocks extending out past the base of each. Both buildings looked to have been carved from one massive stone, as Ryl could see no gaps or seams where block was stacked atop block. The flawless rock walls were eerily reminiscent of the gigantic stone carving of Taben the Defender that stood at the northernmost point in The Stocks, at the front of the Haven Mountains. Ornate trim work surrounded every window, encased every door and stretched across the building delineating floor from floor. There was a muted sound of hammering coming from inside as they passed.

  A massive stone dome capped each building, their smooth rounded surfaces painted with startling realism. The vibrant colors and masterful details of the paintings made the scenes come to life. Ryl blinked his eyes as he craned his neck to admire the artwork.

  So engrossed was he in the paintwork, that he failed to notice that the mender and Kaep had stopped in his path. Ryl wandered carelessly into the back of Kaep, knocking her off her feet. He reacted without thought—the world came to a halt, her fall slowed to a crawl as she was suspended in air.

  Ryl lunged forward, his right hand carefully but firmly clasping around her cloaked forearm. With a gentle tug, he spun her falling body around onto her heels before pulling her back upright. His opposite hand had grabbed ahold of her exposed tattooed arm.

  An unexpected surge of energy jolted through his body, beginning from where his skin touched hers. For a moment, his hand felt as if it was stuck there, his fingers refusing to break their connection with her bare skin. The tattoos on her arm seemed to pulse with life, and his fingers tingled with the unexpected contact. The look on her face was one of surprise; he quickly averted his eyes while struggling with his mind to pry his fingers apart, to break the magnetic connection with her skin.

  As his hand severed the contact with her skin, the strange sensation ceased. Ryl gasped for air as he sunk to a knee. The disorienting feeling of the world snapping back to its normal speed sent his head reeling. His stomach turning violently; threatening to empty its contents into the avenue. The inadvertent use of his skills was extraordinarily taxing. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the spinning subsided.

  “I’m sorry,” he stuttered between breaths.

  “Mind where you’re walking, my young friend,” Brasley chided. “Your balance will return as your recovery progresses. I fear you’re still weak from your ill-advised outing this morning, though I can see how the beauty of our city could be a distraction to those who are unaccustomed to its wonders.”

  Mender Brasley offered no indication that he’d witnessed Ryl’s sudden burst of speed. His attention was elsewhere.

  “I’ve learned the hard way the error in my judgement,” Ryl confessed, in an attempt to appease the mender. “I’ll heed your words in the future and not rush my recovery. Though I’ll agree there is beauty in this city the likes of which I’ve never seen before.”

  The mender smiled and nodded his head in approval of Ryl’s admission. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryl could see the smirk growing on Andr’s face. Kaep bent down in front of him, offering her clothed arm. He was mentally prepared for the sensation as he again clasped his hand around her forearm.

  A hint of the tingling was there, yet nowhere near as profound as when his hand had touched her bare skin. Ryl had never experienced that feeling before. Over the cycles he’d come in contact with his fellow tributes, those who shared the same alexen in their blood, yet this energizing and magnetic response was foreign. Aside from the small smile, her face was again unreadable. The surprise he thought she’d shown a moment earlier was washed away by a look of indifference. If she experienced the same sensation, she gave no sign.

  “Can you walk?” Mender Brasley inquired.

  Ryl nodded his head in response, releasing his hold on Kaep’s arm, taking an awkward step forward. He had difficulty regaining his footing as stumbling forward for a few steps. Andr stepped to his side, intercepting his clumsy gait.

  “Let me give you a hand,” the mercenary offered. “Can’t have you hurting yourself again before meeting the Council.”

  Ryl fought back his stubborn pride, conceding the need for assistance. With his arm over Andr’s shoulder for support, they continued their path along the outer ring of Vim, albeit at a more sluggish pace.

  “What were those buildings?” Ryl asked as they followed Brasley and Kaep.

  “Those are home to the artisan’s workshops,” Brasley said, beaming with pride as he turned his head back toward Ryl and Andr. “As long as we have lived here, we have remained ever vigilant in the pursuit and application of education and the finer arts. Unlike the world outside, all here learn to read and write at an early age. In addition, we have remained steadfast in the focus on the finer arts as well.”

  Ryl was taken aback by the statement. For a community surviving off the land in an unbearably hostile environment, the pursuit of art seemed like an ill-placed focus. Although beautiful, art was a concept he had not been afforded the luxury of coming to understand.

  “I see that look on your face, Ryl,” Mender Brasley intoned. “I never said that study and practice of writing, sculpture, painting and other finer arts, though their effects are profound, were our only focus. You’ll learn soon enough.”

  The mender chuckled to himself as they made their way past the second of the artisan worksho
ps. Another alley separated the building from a massive arrangement of pillars. Brasley and Kaep stopped off to the side of the walkway. At first glance, the large stone columns formed a rectangle around an open plot of land stretching several hundred meters to the north and easily half that distance to the west. Giant, ornately carved slabs of stone rested atop the pillars spanning the entirety of their arrangement, creating a narrow roof around the outer edge of the rectangle.

  As they approached, Ryl could see that the opening between the pillars was in fact cut into the ground. Descending into the earth at a relatively steep angle were tiers of benches carved from stone. At several evenly spaced locations, stairways separated the seats allowing access to the lower levels. A low stone barricade marked the end of the viewing area from the flat surface several meters below. The seating was arranged so that from any location among the seats one could have a complete view of the colosseum’s inset arena. On the far side from where they walked, a raised dais stood above the surrounding bench seats, jutting out from the uppermost level.

  The ground inside the center of the colosseum appeared to be a well maintained, hard-packed earth. On the ground level, a single, large opening was cut into the wall on either side below the lowest level of seating. These exits were blocked by heavy wooden doors, leading to unknown areas underneath the structure.

  “The great colosseum has seen many performances, artistic, theatrical, and of course martial,” Mender Brasley added. “You see, we are much more than just a society of scholars.”

  With a smile, the mender turned, leading them onward around the side of the colosseum, before heading north following the road alongside the edge of the mountain. A string of grand facades were etched into the cliff face, replacing the narrow entrances to the residences that had lined the exterior wall.

  As they passed the first, Ryl felt an unusual wave of calm pass over him. The welcoming feeling he'd grown accustomed to while surrounded by his fellow tributes in The Stocks, slammed into him with an unexpected force. He balanced himself against Andr, earning a concerned look from the mercenary.