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

other Ryl shadowed the elder phrenic. As he entered the passage, the skin on his left breast, the home of the transference of power began to itch. The itching intensified with every step. He stopped suddenly, clutching at his chest. His skin in the center of the tattoo felt as if it were being twisted in place, stretching and pulling of its own accord. Ryl lifted his shirt, letting out an audible gasp at the sight. The concentric pattern of circular bands in the center of the tattoo were slowly rotating, each in a different direction.

Paasek reached the end of the hall ahead of his, turning toward Ryl.

“The transference,” Paasek gaped in wonder. “It’s fascinating to witness. You must work through the pain, Ryl.” He extended his hand toward Ryl, motioning him closer.

Ryl let his shirt fall as he inhaled a deep, steadying breath. Each footstep was marked with increased pain as the bands on his chest rotated faster.

“The chamber beyond has but two purposes,” Paasek whispered. His voice resounded in Ryl’s head like thunder. “The first is to break the seals, granting access to the full power of the transference.”

Paasek removed the small dagger from his belt; the blade, colored crimson red, sparkled in the flickering light of the candle. As if in response to the blade’s presence, the faint, broken outline of a hand began to glow on the face of the wall at the end of the passage.

“The second purpose is the awakening,” Passed continued. “Though I’ve read no record of them being done simultaneously.”

He extended his arm, in his palm was the small pouch from the table.

“Should I be prepared for anything in particular?” Ryl questioned, his confidence wavering.

“Inside you will find a small chamber, in the center of which burns an undying flame,” Paasek explained. “The fire requires but two things. The first being the contents of this pouch.”

Paasek dropped the small bag into Ryl’s hand. The contents were surprisingly heavy for the size.

“And the second?” Ryl wondered.

The elder phrenic flipped the small dagger around in his hand offering it handle first to Ryl.

“Your blood.”

Chapter 38

Ryl hesitantly accepted the knife from Paasek. The handle felt hot, as if it had been resting in a fire, yet the touch didn’t burn his skin.

“I can accompany you no further,” Paasek said.

Ryl looked at the phrenic, who smiled with a nod of his head.

“What you experience inside will be an intimately personal event,” he whispered. “No phrenic will ever ask for details, nor are any to be given. When you are ready, place your hand on the wall and the pathway will open before you. You need not carry your weapons inside.”

Ryl froze a moment before he removed the customized holster Deyalou had created, handing it with the Leaves to Paasek.

The phrenic placed his hand on Ryl’s shoulder, the weight of his stony arm pushing him down. With a gentle squeeze and a nod of his head, he strode from the narrow hallway. Ryl listened for the sound of his footfall as they crossed the training grounds, continuing up the stairs until they faded away into silence.

He was alone.

The hand on the wall pulsed with a dull red glow, shining momentarily before fading back to the smoothed grey stone of the wall. Ryl closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, calming his fraying nerves. The pain in his chest was tremendous, yet the call from his blood, driving him forward, overpowered the agony. The call from within was deafening; he could feel the voices urging him onward. He carefully tucked the blade of the knife into his belt, before extending his right hand toward the wall.

He paused. His hand hovered a fingers width from the wall. The glowing outline on the stone burned bright, lighting the corridor with an intense red glow. Snaking tendrils of red vapor crept from the wall wrapping around Ryl’s hand. He resisted as the vapor tugged against him. The pull became overpowering, reeling his palm toward the mark on the stone. His resistance was insignificant, his strength immaterial compared to the magnetic attraction. Ryl's eyes were glued to the point of impact, watching with wary anticipation as his hand crept closer.

As his palm contacted the glowing mark on the wall, his body was flooded with an overwhelming sense of relief and clarity. The burning sensation from his chest had intensified as he felt the rings rotating with terrifying speed. The pain was inconsequential to the calm that now coursed through his body.

The glowing tendrils surrounding his hand released their hold, wisping away into nothingness like smoke escaping a dying fire. The glowing handprint on the wall faded out; the pull drawing him to the stone vanished. Ryl removed his hand from the cold rock of the wall.

For a moment there was nothing.

Only a hint of pain remained in his chest as it peaked over the salve that his blood provided. With a deafening groan and the grating of stone on stone, the wall before him shook. A cloud of dirt and dust released from its edges as its motion disturbed untold cycles of accumulation. The massive slab of rock withdrew into the wall on his right, revealing the chamber within.

True to its description, the opening beyond was lit by the light of a single, wide flame, burning out of a shallow depression in the floor. The air forced out through the opening door was warm, yet did not smell of smoke. Ryl cautiously stepped beyond the receding stone door, his feet finding the earthen floor of the chamber with a muffled crunch of loose dirt.

Compared to the marvels of architecture present throughout Vim, the chamber he stepped into was drab. The walls and ceiling were rough, glistening with moisture; more natural in appearance than fabricated by hand. The room was small, spanning less than five meters across.

There was another groan from the wall behind him. He whipped around just in time to see the stone slab of a door