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potent and the results more catastrophic. Whereas the treatment today prevented the tributes from accessing their inherent power by overloading the ability of their system to fight the invading toxin, the treatments of old had the ability to virtually wipe the mind of all self-control. This frequently left the phrenics as nothing more than mindless shells, living only to do the bidding of their masters.

As a result of the simple oversight of an inattentive mender, several doses of the treatment were missed. The potent, chemical block to the phrenic’s abilities was allowed to lapse in these individuals. The effects were disastrous. The fortuitous oversight allowed for a fully cognizant phrenic to be working with a group of her peers that fateful morning.

A volatile mix.

Within the burned-out rift in the Erlyn, the guards flanked the edges of the forest, preventing even the pacified phrenic from connecting with the woods. All had heard the tales of Taben and his army. The guards feared the repercussions should any escape into the shadows in the midst of the trees.

Work had started that morning as had the previous day. The ill-fated guards who'd drawn the assignment on that stretch of the western palisade never stood a chance.

The foundation of the palisade was well underway. Large stone slabs had been sunk deep into the earth, severing the living forest in two. These thick stones, in the hands of a fully capable phrenic elementalist became weapons of devastating power.

When the dust had settled, two full companies of guards had perished beneath the stone. The twelve phrenic had laid waste to any who stood in their path. The peaceful intellectuals showed no remorse. Before the swarms of reinforcements arrived, just over one hundred phrenics had been freed, disappearing into the woods to the west without a trace.

The exploits that day along with their history had been neatly removed from the known history of an entire kingdom. The legend of Taben and his warriors was allowed to persist as nothing more than exaggerated myth.

The group forged westward; living off the bounty of the forest for three moons. Never straying from the confines of the trees, they were unmolested in their travels. Early one morning, the woods deposited them into a large clearing along the face of the cliff. There in the mountain’s wall, a small crevice split the rock. The path into the interior was jagged, full of twists and turns yet led the road-weary phrenics into the valley from which Vim was carved.

Their history was fascinating. The founders, as they became known, had started with nothing, yet they began the groundwork for the wonders that surrounded him today. Ryl scanned the city of Vim that spread out before him with a new appreciation for the resiliency and planning of its phrenic originators.

His eyes stopped as they completed their arc of the city. Standing motionless in the avenue only a few meters away stood Kaep, with three other phrenics a step behind. Ryl felt the embarrassment; his cheeks heated as they reddened. How long had they been standing there?

Ryl closed the book abruptly, easing to his feet.

“I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there,” he admitted.

“I see Oswill wasted no time beginning your studies,” Kaep responded with a smile, nodding to the book Ryl had deposited on the table. “It's interesting reading. You'll find that the true wealth of knowledge already lurks within your veins.”

Kaep was dressed in her phrenic cloak though her hood remained down, curled along the back of her neck. Her braided, brown hair spilled out around her neck, resting over her shoulder. The three others in her party had their hoods up, the dark shadows covering their faces.

“I’ll save you some reading. We phrenics are tasked with scouting details while the Vigil maintains the troops stationed on her walls and interior. We leave on second watch now,” she explained. “We typically work in teams of four. Ryl, we were the ones who found you and Andr in the Outlands. You've been assigned to our scout detail once your recovery is complete.”

Ryl had heard the telling of his rescue, of the feats of his phrenic saviors. He was relieved at the news he would at least be in familiar company once he was free of the mender’s care.

“Thank you,” Ryl gasped. “It is to you who we owe our survival. I've looked forward to meeting the rest of you for some time.”

The three hooded phrenics bowed their heads low in salute yet said not a word.

“Your thanks are appreciated, yet unnecessary,” Kaep responded dryly. “Your rescue has been a task for which we have been training for longer than you can imagine.”

Ryl regarded her with a confused look, cocking his head slightly to the side. Kaep flashed him a compassionate smile.

“Read on, my friend,” she offered. “You’ll reach that part eventually.”

Without another word, Kaep’s hands moved to her back, lifting the hood up over her head. A thick shadow immediately covered the top half of her face, and a smile pulled across her lips before she turned. The rest of her scouting party stalking after her, alighting the great stairs leading to Vim’s exit in bounds before disappearing into the tunnel.

Ryl watched their exit with utter fascination. The phrenics exuded a confidence that was awe inspiring. They stood out like beacons among their fellow citizens of Vim, while simultaneously blending into their surroundings as if they were nothing more than shadows. Mere phantoms on the wind.

He sank back down into his chair, admiring the city as he calculated the thoughts in his head. He longed for that confidence, that unassuming power he’d seen in the phrenics. With that power at his fingertips, could he free The Stocks? Could he free his friends?

His recovery must come first. Eager to adhere to the mender’s orders, Ryl dove back into his education. If a lesson in history was a prerequisite to learning to harness his skills, then read he would.

Chapter 30

The next two days passed in

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