Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) C.J. Aaron (unputdownable books .TXT) 📖

Strangers who braved the unknown of the Outlands and fought off the demons of the Horde. Tonight, we welcome them with open arms into our great society. The walls of Vim become stronger by two.”

The last of her words were swallowed by a thunderous roar of applause as the mass of bodies surrounding them broke into cheer. Ryl felt the reverberations pass through his body. He noted the slight tremor from the earth below his feet. Irie surveyed the crowd, allowing the deafening roar to carry on for a few moments before again silencing it with a raised hand.

Ryl looked nervously out of the corner of his eye at Andr, who remained at his right side. The guard stood tall, his posture rigid and straight, his hands clasped behind his back. As nonchalantly as possible, Ryl adopted a similar pose, yet felt as though he failed miserably in its application. Andr greeted him with the flash of a quick smile.

“Fear not, my friend. This will all be over soon,” Andr said loud enough for Ryl to hear over the dissipating cheers of the crowd.

Irie waited patiently as the volume of the applause died down to a whisper.

“The first is a man whose military prowess is a complement to our security. His experience on the fields of battle has been proven, time and time again. His fearless tenacity witnessed in the face of the Horde. He has already found a place teaching among our Vigil. Please welcome, Andr.”

Irie pivoted, motioning for the mercenary to step forward. Andr strode forward confidently, stopping along her side. The crowd erupted into another sea of applause. Councilwoman Irie allowed the cacophony to wear itself out, not raising a hand to cease the applauding of the citizens. Andr nodded his head briefly at the onset, then remained still throughout the duration, scanning the crowd with his eyes.

The Councilwoman continued once the cheers had subsided, and Andr remained a statue by her side.

“Long have we maintained a belief in the prophet and his words,” Irie said. “From the time of our founders, throughout the cycles, we have waited. We have waited for the coming of the one who will set into motion the events that will forever change our destiny. Forever change the destiny of Damaris.”

Ryl’s heart sunk at the admission of the councilwoman. Though he acknowledged the power that flowed within his veins, he was terrified that she would promise them miracles. Miracles he was hopeless to create.

“Although we may not yet be certain what those events may be, we are assured of one thing,” the Councilwoman paused for effect before continuing. “We know today that one has come.”

“That the Catalyst has arrived.”

Chapter 31

Councilwoman Irie turned her body sideways, ushering Ryl forward with a wave of her arm. He froze. His legs locked in position, screaming in protest as her arm reeled him toward her. With every ounce of courage and confidence he could muster, he stepped forward, stopping alongside the councilor. Tens of thousands of eyes focused on him; their weight oppressive.

Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Ryl studied the crowd that surrounded him. The expressions written on their faces were indistinct. Was it awe or disappointment that registered in their looks at the realization of who their catalyst would be? The fear was paralyzing. What could he do to live up to a millennium of expectations?

The roar that followed dwarfed that of the previous—even the mountains themselves shook from the monumental peal. The cheers rapidly became more uncomfortable than the silence as they stretched on. Ryl did his best to smile, nodding his head while slowly scanning the crowd. Wave after wave of calm struck him, seemingly coming from all sides. His comforted smile grew, as he knew the phrenics felt his pain, lessening the burden being heaped upon his shoulders.

Thankfully, Irie took a step forward, raising her hands for silence. The remarkably obedient crowd had lost its earlier restraint in light of the announcement. They refrained from acquiescing to her wishes for some time, cheering with joyous abandon. At long last, a manageable quiet was restored to the colosseum.

“Tomorrow dawns a new day for Vim,” Irie’s voice shouted out over the crowd. “Tonight we will celebrate!”

Irie paused a moment as the jubilant cheers again washed over her. She turned offering Ryl and Andr a relieved smile, bidding them to follow the already retreating councilors through the line of Vigil at their rear. Ryl was all too happy to accept her offer. He fell into line alongside Councilor Paasek, the phrenic, as they made their way under guard toward the towering doors of the Council Seat.

“You did well, Ryl,” Paasek offered quietly as he leaned closer. “Don’t mind the words of Irie. She’s always had a flair for showmanship. Vim needs a little added boost of hope every now and again.”

Ryl shrunk back slightly from the reaching hands that crept toward him from around the Vigil walking off to his side. There was no malice in their actions. Their touches were gentle, almost reverent as their fingers brushed the skin of his arm.

“You will feel the call of the alexen in your blood from time to time. All phrenics do,” Paasek continued. “Remember this. Though when it happens it may feel otherwise, it is you, not the alexen, not the prophecy, that controls your actions. You must always be you. Stay true to that, and one day, you may just change the world.”

Paasek ended his statement with a light pat on Ryl’s back. The gentle tap from the phrenic was shockingly strong. The councilor’s arm was solid, like stone. Ryl staggered as the force of the touch was exacerbated by the weakness that crept back into his legs.

“Thank you, sir,” Ryl stuttered, taken back by the kind words of the phrenic beside him. “I fear I have far too much to learn.”

“Ah, you may surprise yourself yet, my friend,” Paasek admitted. “Your blood already holds the answers