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understanding.

“Vox, when the riders enter the bridge, rain down fire, destroy the arch,” Ryl ordered. “Ramm, think your hammer can handle the other side?”

“Aye, Ryl, that it can,” Ramm said with a crooked smile.

Ryl met eyes with the phrenic surrounding him.

“Go now,” Ryl whispered, winching in discomfort as he forced the feeling outward. “Remember, above all else, The Stocks must be freed.”

“We’ll see you when this is through,” Kaep whispered as she stepped backward.

With a last glance, the phrenics turned and sped from the bridge, disappearing into the village.

Ryl was alone.

The streets were empty; the last of the shutters on the surrounding houses slammed shut with an audible thud. He could feel the terrified eyes of the villagers peering out from where they hid.

Their morning had started like any other, like hundreds of days before this. But today they were about to witness a battle the likes of which the kingdom had never seen. This morning, the mask, the blissful ignorance to the powers that had been relegated to myth would be removed from their eyes.

Phrenics would again walk in the Kingdom of Damaris.

For how long?

That was uncertain.

Chapter 52

Silence descended upon the village. The water rushing underneath the bridge quieted as the world held its breath in anticipation.

An oppressive sensation of foreboding drew in.

The rumbles of hooves rolled like thunder from the road to the forest. Ryl watched with his mindsight as the dark masses approached at a steady gait. Within moments the riders from the east appeared at the top of the hill bordering the woods. The seven riders sat tall atop horses nearly as black as their cloaks. The mounts stomped on the ground, snorting as their masters halted their advance. Ryl felt the unfiltered surge of raw hatred flowing from the mounted Lei Guard. Though he could see nothing of their faces under the shadow of the darkened hoods, he could feel the venom in their glare.

The seven dismounted, stepping in front of their mounts. In one coordinated motion, they each removed the large circular shields from their backs. The uneven blood-red spikes that lined the perimeter of the shields dug into the ground as they rested them down. The Lei Guard stood motionless, an immovable wall of blackened hatred blocking any retreat through the forest. The angst and malice that poured from their bodies darkened the air around them before slowly spreading forward. It crept over the ground like the shadow from a cloud blotting out the sun as it passed overhead.

Ryl risked a glance upward as the line held at the forest. Though the darkness spread across the land, above him, the morning sky remained an unblemished clear blue.

He stood motionless, his body facing upriver, with the shadow from his hood covering the upper half of his face. His hands were at his sides, and his cloak had blown back over his left arm shielding it from view. Its tail billowed gently in the breeze. His body was still wrapped in a glowing yellow haze. The foreign, tingling sensation in his left arm increased in its intensity with every passing moment.

Ryl swung his head from the Lei Guard on his left to the right. The creeping darkness he’d seen with his mindsight now materialized into the form of a second set of seven black cloaked Lei Guard approaching from the east. Each carried a similar round black spiked shield, with the disconcerting face painted on its front. A shadow followed their every step, darkening the narrow street through Serrate as they approached.

In unison, the seven blocking the forest path hefted their shields, and began marching slowly toward the eastern edge of the bridge. Ryl felt the impact of every synchronized footstep as they made their way down the hill. Both parties marched with the same measured cadence. He felt the beat of their steps as it drummed through his body. Both groups stopped as they reached the stone edge of the bridge. The black cloud that preceded their arrival continued creeping closer though their bodies remained in place.

Ryl was unprepared for their first assault. The wave of crushing hatred slammed into him; the unexpected intensity of the emotion nearly toppled him from his feet. The shadows that had preceded the Lei Guard surged over him, blocking out the sun, covering him in a chilling cloud. He corrected his balance within moments, closing his eyes, balling his hands into fists.

“Two can play at this game,” he muttered to himself as he pushed back against the overpowering animosity. The anger that swelled inside of him slammed itself against the darkness, fighting their malice with his own wrath. The shadow flexed slightly before crushing back on him as his forced emotion failed.

Ryl sank to his knees as the weight of the hatred pinned him to the bridge. His head sank down, his eyes opened, focusing on the stone at his feet. The slow, steady sound of footfalls signaled the approach of his death.

He felt a wave of hopelessness wash over him. He desperately fought back against the nearly overpowering desire to give in. The feeling of ultimate failure crashed over him next. He choked back the tears that threatened to stream from his eyes.

He was a failure. A child born with cursed blood now grown to a man with a hopeless future. Ryl would never achieve that which he’d set out to accomplish. The tributes would forever remain in chains.

The Stocks would never be free.

The effort to lift his hands was monumental. Ryl held them in front of his face—they were covered in blood. The blood was not his own, but the blood of those who’d counted on him. The tributes. His friends.

The Vigil.

Vox.

Ramm.

Kaep.

Andr.

Ryl slammed his eyes shut forcing the image from his mind. Every fiber in his body screamed in protest against the emotions that held him down.

He countered the hatred with peace and forgiveness. His head lifted; his eyes raised up from the stone walkway of the bridge.

He countered the failure with

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