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to the tree that she shared with her father and a mix of guards and tributes alike. She still looked as if she was hesitant to announce what she was feeling. The emotions played out in dramatic succession. First apprehension, then fear, then sorrow.

“The dreams have all ended the same way, and it scares me,” she blurted out. “You stand alone before a wall of blackness. I can’t see your glow. I fear it’s consumed you.”

Ryl was taken aback by the admission. An uneasy feeling bubbled up from his gut. He tamped it back down with effort, thinking for a moment, formulating his response before answering.

“Faya, dear, please don’t fret.” Reflexively, he smiled down at the child, thankful that her sightless eyes wouldn’t witness the forced effort. hoping that the effort didn’t appear forced. “I will return. Kaep needs our help. Though others might question my decision, I, like the rest of you, am free. From now until our last breath. Remember that always. The decisions, the choices you make now, those that you make tomorrow are your own. Hope can be a powerful ally, though if not nurtured, it can spurn you. It can wound you deeper than any blade. Never lose hold of it.”

Faya threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a tight embrace.

“I will keep hope for you.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before ambling back into the opening of the great tree. Ryl watched her disappear into the gloomy interior before he rose.

Leaving the tree behind, Ryl angled toward the center of the clearing. As he walked, his hands moved subconsciously to his back. Though he knew the dormant weapons were still there, his mind demanded the confirmation. A trickle of energy rolled up his arm as his hand closed on the wooden handle. The sensation was a comfort to his riddled mind. His conversation with Faya had done little to squelch his concerns. She’d planted a seed of doubt within his mind. Given time, thinking about it would provide it light. Dissecting it to study its merit would give it the energy it required and the attention it craved. In this way, the mind was a fertile breeding ground for the ravages of doubt.

Ryl made a conscious effort to force the thoughts and emotion from his mind. The task at hand would require enough focus to command his full attention.

Ahead, all that remained of the roaring fire were the smoldering embers inside the circular pit. A thin trail of smoke lifted skyward, escaping through the clearing in the forest’s canopy above. As he approached, the air was tinted with a hint of smoke. The lingering coals pulsed orange. Two figures were silhouetted against the dull glow.

The pair stood close together. They were motionless, though he could feel their eyes watching him as he neared. Their hoods were still drawn over their heads. His phrenic companions waited anxiously.

Ryl stopped as he reached their side, greeting them in turn. Ramm leaned heavily on the massive war hammer at his side. Vox stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Words were not needed to convey the sentiment amongst them.

They were brethren.

The phrenics understood each other in ways that were inexplicable. There was no need to argue over the logic of the decisions that needed to be made. Though their emotions struggled with the outcome, their minds understood the necessity.

Speed was needed.

If the phrenics moved like the wind, Ryl was the gale.

Knowledge was power.

Ryl had cut his teeth in the fertile fields outside the Erlyn’s domain. He knew the lay of the land and the disposition of the city. The phrenics were but strangers in a hateful, foreign environment.

He would travel light. He would travel fast.

He would travel alone.

First Vox, then Ramm, both phrenics nodded their heads in assent. Ryl stepped forward, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. A surge of emotion coursed from his body as the fire raged in his eyes.

It was hope.

“Bring her home,” Ramm rumbled. His voice was low, grating, like the grinding of stones together as the earth shook underfoot.

“I will,” Ryl said. He stepped back, meeting the eyes of his companions once more. With a subtle nod, he pulled the hood up over his head and stalked toward the tree line.

Chapter 15

Ryl’s path to the forest’s edge had purposefully angled toward the great tree where he’d awoken. His light pack, filled with nothing more than a waterskin and a paltry supply of rations, waited alongside, tucked out of sight against the roots. They were still in the deep hours of the night; the guards would be light. He wanted few to notice his departure.

The sentries that Le’Dral had posted were spread out around the perimeter of their forest sanctuary. Their sluggish patrols paced between the trunks of the massive trees, their eyes trained on the wall of woods that surrounded them. In total, the fighting force numbered but few. Many had been pulled from their duties as a soldier to assist with the mender’s charges. They were now nurses, tending to the ailing population that now far outnumbered the hale.

With stealthy grace, Ryl moved noiselessly across the clearing. His steps quickened. The call for haste was ever present, yet though he could see nothing with his mindsight, it was as if he could sense Elias nearby. The presence called to him. Tempted him onward.

Timing his approach to avoid the sentry, he skirted the edge of the tree, easily avoiding the sliver of pale illumination that escaped from the doorway. Far across the clearing, a random nickering arose from the horses secured in their makeshift corral.

Ryl paused for a moment, watching in silence. No sounds of alarm were raised. The horses settled again as he continued onward. Though he moved outside the influence of the light, the waft of putrid odor from the interior caught him nonetheless. Ryl circled around the base of the tree to collect his pack. He stopped

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