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been an ever-present and unwelcome companion throughout most of his nights.

At one point, he’d been so desperate for uninterrupted sleep he’d spoken with Mender Brasley, begged him for some remedy to assist with his slumber. Even though he already knew it was a foregone conclusion, he was desperate enough to try. The potion he received had worked for mere hours. The alexen in his blood fought the peace bringing ingredient like a poison. His phrenic brethren were sympathetic to his plight. The healing properties of his blood were a curse in this situation.

Ryl slipped out of bed, donning his shoes and cloak. He grabbed the holster and Leaves that rested on the table as he headed for the door. Rarely did he move around the city without the covering of his cloak. When outside the Hall of the Phrenic he routinely wore his hood up, hiding his face in shadow. Though the news of his mysteriously tattooed left arm had not traveled further than the phrenics, the unusual length of his awakening was common knowledge. The mysticism surrounding his active blood and the prophecy added an uncomfortable amount of attention.

The nightmare had left him little chance to return to sleep. As was his norm on mornings like these, Ryl quietly padded across the hall, descending the stairs to the underground training circle where he could enjoy training in solitude.

His skills had blossomed since his awakening. The mindsight showed his phrenic companions with ease; the woodskin responded nearly automatically; and the soulborne wind was more focused and powerful. When he drank deep from the power focusing on speed, there was no phrenic in the city who could lay a hand on him.

As much as he enjoyed the success of his primary skills, the absence of any knowledge or progress decoding the mystery surrounding the unusual tattoo on his left arm was a cause of constant consternation. Ryl sat cross-legged in the center of the earthen training circle. His mind was focused on unlocking the secrets hidden within his marked skin.

The soft padding of footsteps alerted him to another's presence before he verified with his mindsight. Among all the phrenics in the city, he spent the most time with his current scout detail. Since his awakening and the subsequent recovery of his ailing companions, they had become nearly inseparable.

There were subtle differences in the individual signatures of each of the phrenics as he viewed them through his mindsight. At first the insignificant deviations were close to imperceptible. After his awakening, the minute differences now seemed glaringly obvious. Ryl needn't see them with his eyes to tell them apart. Their signature became as recognizable to his mind as their faces were to his eyes.

“Good morning, Kaep,” Ryl said, turning his head, greeting the phrenic with a smile. Her signature glowed the brightest of his scout group; he could pick her out of a crowd of phrenics almost instantly.

“How d’you know it was me?” Kaep asked.

She, along with the others had difficulty recognizing who was who using the mindsight alone.

She shrugged off her own question, not waiting for an answer.

“The Council’s summoned us,” she said plainly. “They await our arrival.”

She paused momentarily.

“Was it the dreams again?” she asked. The tone of her voice had altered. Her words conveyed compassion and understanding.

“Aye, Kaep. The same one,” Ryl admitted woefully. “And I'm afraid I'm still no closer to deciphering any meaning or purpose for these markings than I was before.”

Kaep knelt in front of him, her hazel eyes locking onto his.

“Fear not,” she comforted. “The blood will tell you when the time is right.”

Kaep extended her covered arm, lending it for assistance as Ryl rose from the ground of the training circle. Ever since the first time their skin had touched, the memories of the magnetic connection danced in the recesses of his mind. They’d spent innumerable hours together, consumed with their training, yet their skin had never touched since. Ryl could clearly feel the pull of the energy in his hand through the fabric of her cloak. The feeling had grown significantly since his awakening. They’d never spoken of the feeling, nor had he divulged the information to anyone.

Ryl followed Kaep as she hastened up the stairs before collecting the rest of their scout party that waited in the hall above. He pulled the hood up over his head as they exited the Hall of the Phrenic, the rest of the team donning theirs as well.

The morning sun had crested over the peaks of their mountain wall to the east. The hood shielded his eyes from the direct assault from the rays of light as they exited through the doorway. The avenue held steady foot traffic; the citizens they passed nodded politely in greeting, yet moved aside allowing for their passage. Their determined walk continued uninterrupted into the Great Hall.

The elderly chamberlain appeared to have nodded off as they entered the hall. His head jerked up as Kaep cleared her throat politely. His eyes took a moment to focus before he smiled, ushering them on with a wave of his arm.

“The Council waits within,” his raspy voice disclosed.

The Vigil standing guard opened the doors as they approached, closing them with a thud after they had entered the auditorium.

Muffled conversation in the great hall echoed around the room. The large amphitheater could easily seat thousands, yet was now virtually empty save for the Council, Andr and the four Vigil that would be accompanying Ryl and the phrenics. Though he could make out no distinct words, even their hushed voices were amplified thanks to the acoustics of the room.

Ryl followed the other phrenics down the wide central staircase, taking up their seats in the front row on the left-hand side of the aisle. Andr and their Vigil counterparts sat on the right. Ryl exchanged a quick smile and a nod with his friend.

Since his awakening and the increase in training, he’d been afforded less time with Andr. Their separate and rigorous schedules allowed them little free time

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