The Rifts of Psyche

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The Rifts of Psyche Page 7

by Kyle West


  “That’s incredible.”

  Julia’s cheeks colored. “I’m glad you like it. It’s an old family recipe.”

  “My wife is the best cook in the village,” Kieron said. “She organized the feast tonight.”

  “I never tasted anything half as good in my life, and that’s the truth.”

  “You flatter me.”

  Morgana shifted in a bid to get his attention. “Is it really true you killed two wyverns?”

  Everyone watched him expectantly. Even people in other groups overheard the question and went quiet to listen.

  “I did,” Lucian said, though he thought it wise not to add more details.

  “How’d you do it?” Morgana asked.

  Lucian had to be careful here. Of course, with the Orb, he had access to an incredible amount of magic. He couldn’t reveal the truth of how he’d brought those monsters down. He didn’t want anyone to suspect him in the least. “It all happened fast, so it’s hard to remember. I’m lucky to have survived.”

  “No doubt,” Julia said. “We live in fear of those monsters. They are the main reason we can’t ascend the Upper Reaches.”

  “That’s it?” Morgana asked, her face disappointed. “No details?”

  Lucian saw he wasn’t getting out of this. Even as they were watching him, he noticed Captain Fergus had sidled closer, though he made it look as if he was talking to one of his guards. Lucian had the feeling that every word he said would be judged.

  “Well, I crashed high in the mountains and started heading down to the valley. The Deeprift, I guess you would call it. As it started getting dark, I saw this cave with a light. I went inside, thinking there were people. Well, I did find people, but they were two frays.”

  Morgana gasped at the revelation. For a world known for its maddened mages, she seemed unduly shocked that he had come across a couple of them. Lucian found that curious. Perhaps the life they lived down here in the rift was sheltered.

  “Anyway, one of them was far gone. A Burner, I guess is what you would call him. He streamed some Thermal Magic at me, and I barely held up. I had no choice but to run, despite the fact it was night.” He had gathered quite the audience by now. He didn’t want to be the center of attention, but it was impossible not to be. He tried to ignore Fergus, who was openly glaring. “It was full-on dark by now, so I had to stream myself a light sphere to see. That’s when I heard them coming. Screeches you could hear from klicks away.”

  “Curious,” Fergus said, taking a few steps closer. “Wyverns are known for utter silence when hunting their prey. That is what makes them so dangerous. You never truly see them coming.”

  All went quiet as they looked at Lucian for an explanation. He turned to Fergus and tried to answer as calmly as he could. “These two weren’t. I could hear their shrieks for a long time before they ever showed up.”

  “Then they’ve hunted like no wyverns I’ve ever heard of,” Fergus said. “And I’ve hunted quite a few myself.”

  “Yes, with help,” Morgana said, fervently. “Lucian did it all by himself!”

  Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Lucian kept his face neutral, but he could tell some were doubting him. It was the last thing he needed. Fergus was a respected man in the village while Lucian was an outsider, and Morgana was defending him for her own reasons. And if it was true that wyverns were silent when hunting, why hadn’t they been when attacking Lucian?

  “Did he do it all by himself?” Fergus asked. “I wonder. Perhaps he happened upon a dead one in the rockslide of Snake Pass, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. We will learn of this young mage’s skill soon enough. The truth has a way of coming out eventually.”

  With that Fergus left, engaging in conversation with Elder Gia as if nothing had happened.

  “I’m not lying,” Lucian said, turning back to Kieron and his family.

  “We know that,” Kieron said. “Fergus is top mage here, but we all saw that fang you brought Elder Ytrib. A wyvern like that wouldn’t have been careless enough to die in a rockslide.”

  Lucian was glad at least he could see the truth.

  “That said,” Kieron went on, “even if the fang was quite large, it was still not the biggest we’ve ever seen. Fergus hunted a wyvern several months back that was quite a bit bigger.”

  “Did he, now?” Lucian wondered why Kieron was bringing this up.

  “That’s true,” Julia said. “That one was probably the largest we’ve seen. Enough venom for the village’s arrows to last us months. If what I’ve heard is true, Lucian’s fang didn’t have half the venom, despite its size.”

  “Better than no venom,” Lucian said.

  The two girls giggled again, as if there were some joke he wasn’t getting.

  “It’s no matter,” Kieron said. “You might make a fine hunter yet, if you learn from a man as experienced as Fergus. It’s one thing to kill a wyvern with magic. Quite another to do so without that benefit. Sometimes, we men go wyvern hunting in the Upper Reaches. Some of the women, too. Sometimes, we succeed. Sometimes not. But most of us only have spear, longbow, or javelins to kill with. If you want to truly test your mettle, hunt without magic.”

  Lucian finally understood what they were trying to do: keep him humble. They didn’t think him some sort of god for doing what few had ever done. It was all a test, to see if he would be a good fit for the community, whether he would try to prop himself above the rest.

  “You’re right. I’m no hunter. If it hadn’t been for the noise, I wouldn’t have had time to prepare my defenses.”

  “Perhaps they were fledglings,” Julia offered, taking a bite of a pastry. “That could explain why they announced themselves, lacking the experience of older hunters.”

  “Or perhaps they were gloombats from the Darkrift, and not wyverns at all,” Kieron added, with a cheeky smile.

  “You saw that fang,” Morgana said. “That’s no gloombat!”

  “I don’t know what those are,” Lucian said.

  “I’ve never heard of one so high up,” Kieron said, “But gloombat venom is something we can use, though theirs is not as potent as the wyverns’. If you happened across a large gloombat, their fangs can grow almost as large.”

  “They sound like terrifying creatures,” Lucian said.

  Morgana giggled. “They can be kind of cute. They’re fuzzy, have large eyes, and some people even keep them as pets once they’re defanged. The feral ones are dangerous, especially when you disturb their colony.”

  Again, she was staring at him. Julia watched, bemused, though Kieron seemed oblivious. Lucian was thankful for that much, at least.

  Before Lucian could respond, everyone’s attention switched to Elder Ytrib, who stood in the center of the meeting hall. The light of torches and sconces lent his skin an orangey luster.

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed the feast. I’d like to thank Julia and the people who put this together on such short notice.”

  There was general applause and several shouts of “hear, hear.”

  “Today, we welcome a new mage into our ranks. Lucian, would you please stand?”

  It was the last thing Lucian wanted to do, but it wasn’t like he had a choice.

  “Lucian, we hope that you bring much to our little community here. And we hope to give much in return. Tomorrow, you will learn all about life here. There are dangers, yes. Great dangers. But we all must do our part to make life worth living. The villages of the Deeprift have learned to work together according to the Code, for the good of all.”

  Several applauded at this, but Elder Ytrib raised his hand, staying the noise. He leaned on his bronze spear, making it nothing more than a walking staff.

  “Tomorrow is gathering day. We’ll be going to the river, which we all know can be dangerous. But I trust having another mage with us will afford additional protection.” He broke into a smile. “Besides, we have to replace all this food we just ate.”

  Most laughed at that. At this point, Lucian noticed some
of the women filling clay cups with some sort of liquid. Judging by the amber hue, it was alcoholic. One of the women came toward him, offering the cup. Once every person of age had a drink, Elder Ytrib continued.

  “A toast. Toward the bright future of our village. May Kiro stand strong, stay safe, and prosper!”

  He raised his glass, and the assembly drank. Lucian nearly coughed at the amber-hued drink, such was the kick. It was cloyingly sweet, which didn’t do much to take the bite of the alcohol off. He wiped his mouth and did his best to keep the liquor down.

  Kieron clapped him on the shoulder. “Not bad for your first shot of mystika.”

  Lucian cleared his throat. “What’s it made from?”

  Kieron looked at him, deadpan. “Wyvern testicles. It’s the venom that gives it that kick.”

  Lucian nearly heaved right there on the spot, as everyone laughed uproariously.

  “It’s made from fermented glow shrooms and caro pepper,” Kieron said. “Not as exciting, I’m afraid.”

  Lucian noticed some of the people filtering out, though many hung around to talk. When Kieron and his family had left, Lucian was about to leave himself to get some much-needed sleep before Elder Ytrib waved him over. Fergus stood next to the Elder, gripping his spear tightly as Lucian approached.

  “I know you’re weary,” the Elder said, “but I want to go over tomorrow with the both of you.”

  Fergus stood straighter, while Lucian wondered just what the Elder was going to say.

  “It is well that another mage has joined us,” Ytrib continued. “There are few enough in the village as it stands.”

  “He has yet to be proven,” Fergus said. “But I intend to discover the extent of his abilities. Of that, you can be sure.”

  “Yes,” Elder Ytrib said. “That was what I intended. Fergus, I would like you to take Lucian under your wing tomorrow. Teach him about the rift, teach him our customs, and fill any gaps in his knowledge. Though he defeated two wyverns, he is still too young to know as much as you in the ways of magic.”

  Fergus looked at Lucian. “What kind of mage are you?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Fergus stared in disbelief. “What do you mean, you don’t know? What magic did you use to kill the wyverns?”

  “Binding.”

  “So, Binding is your primary?”

  “I’m not sure, yet. It might be.”

  Fergus looked at Elder Ytrib, incredulous. “You expect me to believe that a child of such limited knowledge killed those wyverns, Elder?”

  “Until we have evidence otherwise, then yes. I do believe it.”

  Fergus shook his head, and Lucian got the sense that he didn’t often disagree with Ytrib.

  “That said,” Elder Ytrib continued, “it is a bit strange. What did that academy of his teach him?”

  “I’m willing to learn more,” Lucian said. “They saved most of the advanced instruction for the Talents.”

  “You weren’t even a Talent?” Fergus asked.

  Lucian ignored the question. He was done trying to explain himself.

  “Your primary is the Aspect with which you are most gifted,” Ytrib explained. “If you used Binding to kill those wyverns, that would make you a Binder. And that would make Psionics and Radiance your secondaries, and Gravitonics and Dynamism your tertiaries.”

  “I was taught that such beliefs were limiting.”

  “Then your academy doesn’t know its ass from its tits,” Ytrib said. “It’s inconceivable that you could have killed creatures as powerful as wyverns with anything but your primary. That makes you a Binder, plain and simple. The adjoining Aspects on the Septagon are Radiance and Psionics, your secondaries. They are things you should not be as proficient in, but you can still do basic streamings. And finally, your tertiaries. Many mages must stream quite a bit of their magic to even do basic things. And finally, your quaternaries you can just forget about. They are possible to stream, but with a great deal of effort and inefficiency. For you, those would be Atomicism and Thermalism.”

  “I’m pretty good at Thermalism, though,” Lucian said. “At least, I think I am.”

  This was met with silence, until Fergus shook his head. “Impossible.”

  Ytrib held up a hand. “Now, let’s not jump to conclusions, Fergus. If that’s true, Lucian, then what you’ve said is an incredible thing. Of course, it’s possible for a gifted mage to stream their quaternaries, but not without a great deal of practice. Since Thermalism and Atomicism are on the other end of the Septagon, they are as far from Binding as you can get. But if you really are good at Thermalism . . .”

  Fergus called out to one of the women. “Dalia! Might you bring us a pail of water for the young mage?”

  Not for the first time in the past few days, Lucian found himself under the gun. When the pail was brought, the two older men waited eagerly as Lucian reached for his Focus. He found the Septagon image easily enough, despite the pressure, and noticed for the first time that lines interconnected bordering Aspects and Aspects two places apart. He could also see the blue orb shone more brightly than the others, almost so bright as to be blinding. But shining quite brightly next to it was the violet orb, Psionics, while the green orb bordering the blue one was not as bright as the violet one. If Binding were his primary, as these two were saying, wouldn’t the purple orb, the one representing Psionics, and the green one, representing Radiance, be of equal brightness? But it was not so.

  Lucian realized the truth, then. Binding was not his primary. At least, it hadn’t been before finding the Orb of Binding. Psionics had been. For the Gravitonics orb was brighter than the Radiance orb. And the blue one would have been just as bright as Gravitonics, if not for the Orb of Binding in his possession. That Orb had made his secondary even more powerful than his primary. Far more powerful, from the looks of it.

  “I’m not a Binder,” he said. “I’m a Psionic.”

  Ytrib’s eyes widened at that. “So, you are saying you defeated the wyverns with your secondary?”

  Fergus growled. “Why are you lying to us? Do you take us for fools?”

  “I’m not lying, Captain.” But he could not explain himself further. He could not tell them about the Orb of Binding. Not ever. And he had almost given it away, so maybe he should have just pretended that Binding was his primary. At this point, for all intents and purposes, it was. If they somehow, against all odds, figured out the truth, they might kill him for it. The Oracle had told him as much, that the Builders had turned on each other for the right to bear even one Orb and become a Vigilant.

  “Then if you are a Psionic, you must be even more powerful with Psionics than with Binding,” Fergus said. “Rest assured, you will be tested on this.”

  What Lucian knew for sure was that he always felt Psionics had been his strong suit, while Binding and Gravitonic Magic had come somewhat easier for him. Even if he had failed his Gravitonics Trial, he was able to wing it after watching Rhea perform. According to this theory, his actual tertiaries would be Radiance and Thermalism. He could perform Radiance readily enough, though he hadn’t tried anything more complicated than light spheres, not counting the Radiance Trial where he’d isolated radio waves. Nor with Thermalism had he tried anything harder than heating or freezing water, though he had streamed an impromptu Thermal shield last night to defend himself from Ramore. But then again, it had used his ether quickly, and he would have been burned to a crisp without Serah’s help.

  Neither had asked him to test his Thermalism on the pail of water sitting beside them, so Lucian ignored it.

  That left Dynamism and Atomicism. Dynamism was no doubt his weakest Aspect. It had been the most difficult to learn, and it exhausted him much more quickly than the others. That he had done so well on the Trial was something of a miracle, and probably had more to do with the fact he had worked to conserve his ether as much as possible. The final Aspect, Atomicism, was impossible for Lucian to learn at the Academy. He had never streamed it be
fore, but perhaps such magic wasn’t forbidden on Psyche.

  “Tch,” Fergus said. “Fine. I’ll test your mettle tomorrow, newcomer. Of that you can be sure.”

  Fergus turned around to leave, while Ytrib and Lucian watched him go.

  “Why does he have it out for me?”

  “He doesn’t,” Elder Ytrib said. “At least, not in the way you think. Fergus is loyal to a fault. That’s why he’s Captain of the Kiro Watch. He’s just trying to protect me. In his own way.”

  Fergus paused by the exit, not leaving as Lucian supposed he would. The man was still keeping an eye on him.

  “I hope I can prove myself.”

  “I hope so, too. It would be a shame for another mage to not work out.”

  Lucian frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Ytrib shrugged. “It seems we can’t keep our mages. The last one frayed. I think the strain was too much for him. Another led a party into the Darkrift, chasing some rumor of treasure. She never returned. And of course . . .” Ytrib trailed off, electing not to continue. “The point is, don’t expect this to be easy, Lucian. You have made extraordinary claims, backed up with that fang you brought us. Soon enough, we will know how it was earned.”

  So, the Elder didn’t totally believe him, either. At least he wasn’t being an ass about it, like Fergus. “That’s fair, Elder.”

  Lucian stifled a yawn. It was long past time he went to bed.

  “Go get some sleep. I’ll send someone to wake you since you are not used to the darkness yet. Be at the cave entrance tomorrow morning. And for breakfast, meet here.”

  Lucian took his leave, trying to ignore the hard stare Fergus gave as he left. There would be no winning that one over, and Lucian had to get used to the fact.

  The town was mostly empty as he wove his way back. He was swaying, either from the residual effect of the mystika or sheer exhaustion. He almost stumbled down the stairs leading to the lake. The sounds of the waterfall became distant as he walked down the shoreline. Some of the houses had lights on within, though Lucian couldn’t imagine staying up another minute.

 

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