The Rifts of Psyche

by Kyle West

  Only, nothing would come. His vision swam before him due to his effort to stream Binding Magic.

  “Serah . . . I can’t. Something’s wrong with the Orb.”

  “Rotting hell,” she said. “Fergus is going to run out of magic soon.”

  At that moment, Fergus’s light went out. It flickered a few times, before the cavern went dark for good.

  With Fergus and Cleon down there, and he and Serah above, they were as good as stranded.

  “What now?” Lucian asked. The hope had gone out of his voice.

  “Hold on to your ass,” Serah said. “We can’t leave them down there, so it’s time for Plan B.”

  They were surrounded by an aura of Gravitonic Magic. Lucian instantly felt lighter on his feet. Serah pulled him and the two of them drifted into the cavern below.

  “Serah, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Now, you have to stream,” she said. “I can’t hold this aura long enough, and if you don’t tether us to the waypoint, we’ll die.”

  He reached again, but he was so tired. So tired, that he couldn’t even be mad at her. Her voice had a dreamlike quality, and his Focus seemed to float in the distance, impossible to latch onto.

  “Did you hear me? Lucian. Lucian!”

  “Stream,” he managed.

  “Lucian! Use the Orb!”

  He faded. When he came to, they were still falling. So, so slowly, as if sinking underwater.

  “I can’t hold it anymore, Lucian,” she said. “I’m burning up . . .”

  He reached for his Focus, knowing all the while he wouldn’t find the Orb. But he couldn’t let them die. The ground could not have been more than a hundred meters below them. He streamed a light sphere to see how far until the bottom. But there was still nothing visible below them.

  At that moment, Serah’s Gravitonic aura fizzled out, and instantly, their acceleration increased. Her eyes fluttered closed. He pulled her close and streamed his own Gravitonic Magic. Ether burned through Lucian in a torrent, his pool quickly draining. Maintaining this aura used so much more magic than an antigrav disc. It would only be a few more seconds until his ether had completely burned away.

  Lucian let go of the stream. He just couldn’t stream Gravitonic Magic efficiently enough. They had one final chance, as he saw it. And if it failed, then they would both come down too hard with fifty or so meters left. Not even Psyche’s gentle gravity could save them then.

  “Lucian?” Her eyes looked at him, afraid. He had never seen her like that. He realized then that she was young, like him. And like him, she didn’t know what she was doing and was caught in a trap.

  “This isn’t over yet,” Lucian said.

  If the Orb wouldn’t help them, then he would. At the final moment, he brightened the light sphere following them, revealing the rocky ground beneath. It was about ten meters below. Then, drawing as much ether by overdrawing as he could, he unleashed a powerful kinetic wave directly toward the ground, blasting it with a force that was double the gravity pulling them down. The force pushed off the ground, breaking the speed of their fall.

  Lucian could only hope their speed had slowed enough.

  They landed with a hard thud, bouncing off the rocky earth before hitting it again. Both slid against a thick stalagmite. Lucian struck it, chest first, and then more lightly with his head.

  All went dark . . .

  29

  “Lucian? Lucian!”

  His eyes opened to see Serah above him, illuminated by a floating orb of fire.

  “I was about to slap you. We need to get moving.”

  “Moving?”

  “Did you hit your head or something?”

  Lucian touched his forehead, and his fingers came away sticky with blood.

  “Rotting hell. Didn’t see that in this light.” She paused a moment. “Stay here. I’ll try to find the others.”

  She left her pack behind and bounded off into the darkness. Her floating orb of fire was quickly eaten by the pitch black, leaving him blind.

  Lucian faded in and out. He reached for his canteen and could barely hold it steady enough to drink. After he drank, he slept some more.

  Sometime later, he was awoken by footsteps and a fiery light. Serah knelt beside him.

  “Still out? Doesn’t look good, I’ll say that much. I went to where they landed, and they were nowhere in sight.”

  His head seemed clearer now. “Where are they, you think?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was burning too much ether to keep my fire going, so I headed back.”

  “I don’t want you to get lost out there, Serah. We just have to figure out what to do.”

  “Well, you knocked your head so you’re going to have to stay put. If the people in that camp noticed us coming down, they would have found us by now. My guess is they were distracted with Fergus and Cleon. It would explain why they’re gone.”

  “We need to go after them.”

  Serah nodded. “I agree, but we can’t do anything until our ether regenerates. We’ve been overdrawing too much. Besides, you need to sleep that off.”

  “We can’t just—”

  “If those lights are really from frays, then Fergus and Cleon will be fine. They don’t kill whoever they happen upon, like Burners would.” She paused a moment. “Most of the time.”

  Lucian would just have to hope that was true. If anyone knew about how frays behaved in this underworld, it was Serah. “Okay, then.”

  “Try to get some rest. I’m going to let the light go.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened, as if surprised by the move.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I hate the dark.”

  She touched his face. “I know. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Things will be fine. I’m letting the light go out. I’ll make myself sick if I hold it any longer.”

  Darkness returned. Lucian hated not being able to see anything. But feeling the warmth of Serah’s hand in the darkness helped him not feel alone. He tried to not think about what predators might be lurking out there, predators that hunted by smell or sound. It wasn’t likely they’d survive the encounter with the Orb of Binding nonresponsive.

  Serah didn’t just hold his hand. She lay beside him, her shoulder touching his, the only thing of warmth in this dark, cold place.

  “Serah . . . thank you.”

  “It’s basic human decency. And you’re all right, for a non-fray. I might even call you friend someday.”

  There was a moment of silence. “Takes you a while to trust people, I take it.”

  “That’s a given.”

  “Same,” Lucian said. “For what it’s worth, though, you’ve saved my hide more than a few times. If that’s not a friend, I don’t know what is.”

  She had no response for that. They fell asleep hand-in-hand in the darkness.

  Lucian was back in Dara, only this time, he was actually inside the Sorceress-Queen’s high tower. At first, he was confused. He shouldn’t be here.

  That was when he remembered that he hadn’t warded himself in a while.

  He fought to break away from this dream, but it was already too late. He could see her shadowed form sitting on a crystalline throne. Her dress was long, black, and bedecked with gems reflecting nearby floating sphere light. Despite that light, her form was still shrouded, so he could see nothing other than her shape and a blur where her face should have been. He thought he could discern two eyes, like twin amethysts shining in an inferno.

  “We meet again,” she said, her voice sonorous.

  Lucian tried to speak, but there was nothing he could say to someone of such majesty, power, and beauty. He felt himself getting sucked in by those violet eyes.

  “I need your help, Lucian,” she said, her voice losing its royal edge.

  She no longer sounded like a queen, but simply a woman who needed assistance. And he was the only one who could render it. He felt a tugging at his heart, a deep need to make her
happy. He listened attentively.

  “Things have become most difficult for me. Only you can assist me.”

  Lucian swallowed, and by some miracle, found his voice. It took every effort not to say yes immediately. “Why would I do that?”

  The Sorceress-Queen frowned, as if not expecting that answer. “We both want the same thing, Lucian. We want the Orbs to be gathered. We want the fraying to end. And it’s only together that we can achieve that aim. You must stop running. The Darkrift is dangerous. Even with the Orb of Binding, you are more likely than not to die.” She gave a moment’s pause. “I don’t say that to scare you, but only to speak sense. Your aim is to keep your Orb far away from me. But you must be reasonable. You will surface at some point, and I will find you. You need me, Lucian, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Perhaps you do not trust me; that is understandable. But I hope soon to remedy that lack of trust. To show that we are on the same side.”

  She at last went quiet, as if to give him an opportunity to ask questions.

  “How can I trust you?” he asked. “How do I know you’re not playing with my mind right now? How do I know that you’re not simply going to kill me and take my Orb the moment you see me? Why won’t you show me your face? Why would I ever trust someone who thinks slavery is acceptable, Queen Ansaldra?”

  She watched him for a moment, seeming to consider. It was hard not to wilt under that gaze.

  “Psyche is a mage prison world, Lucian. If we are ever to be strong, we need a strong ruler. And yes, there is a system of hierarchy on this world. Order is needed. I am that order. Without me, this world would devolve into barbarism within weeks.”

  “You are a despot, then. You rule with fear.”

  “Out of practicality. My ethos, or even your ethos, has nothing to do with it. What causes a civilization to persist? That’s a question I’ve been dealing with for over five standard decades since the Free Mages were exiled here. And what we’ve learned is that no civilization lasts where all of its members are equal participants. Human nature precludes that, as humanity discovered in the latter half of the 21st century with the fall of the so-called “Great Democracies” and the start of the Climate Wars. Even as far back as that dark time, we’ve had the capacity, the technology, and the resources to ensure no human being went without. That no human being had to work if they didn’t so desire. There was enough food, enough money, enough homes for everyone to live in plenty.”

  “Is there any point to this?”

  Though Lucian could not see her, Lucian could feel her smile. “And yet here we are, in the 24th century, and these evils still persist. Unless humanity has somehow solved them since I’ve been on this world, which I highly doubt. What does that tell you, Lucian?”

  Lucian saw where she was going with this. “It doesn’t mean you need to have slaves.”

  “That word is just semantics. I would argue that a so-called citizen of the League is just as much a slave. Trapped in their circumstances, given just enough food, money, and entertainment not to rebel, because their masters could never tolerate a society where the unwashed masses might look the de facto masters eye to eye. A society can only evolve when technology or will allows it. Here on Psyche, our resources have limited us to something that would be the equivalent of the Bronze Age on Earth. How do you build a Bronze Age society without slavery?”

  “Simple. You choose not to.”

  “Ah,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “But if I hadn’t, someone else would have. Is it not better for me to do it, the one who is strongest? And even if I wanted to end slavery, how long do you think my society would last if no one wanted to mine or reap the crops? Tens of thousands would starve, and the society would come crashing down, creating a hell far worse than the ones Daran slaves endure every day.”

  Lucian didn’t have an answer for that. It only felt wrong, though he couldn’t explain the reason why.

  “Even assuming what I’ve done is wrong, or done purely because I’m an evil woman,” she said, “what if by so building this society, I someday give my people the chance to escape this world? For the mages unjustly consigned here to no longer be prisoners?”

  “Escape from Psyche is impossible.”

  She chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Not with the Orb of Psionics. The short answer, Lucian, is that the human mind cannot conceive of a society without hierarchy in some form. And the larger the society, the more impossible it becomes to ensure there isn’t an underclass, even when humans develop the technology to eradicate it. We simply can’t tolerate the thought of no one being worse off than us. It helps us sleep at night.”

  “You’re wrong,” Lucian said. “The Rifters are equals. There are Elders, sure, but everyone has an equal part to play.”

  “You’re speaking of tribes, Lucian. I’m speaking of civilizations. Tribal government simply doesn’t work at the level of empire and planets. It never will. A strong hand is needed. Class systems are needed. If not materially, then because the human mind simply cannot think differently. The only way humanity will consent to be equals of one another is if you take everything from them. And the only way you can keep a society stable is by nurturing the greed and pride of the elites.” She paused. “What’s more, I intend to build an empire based on strength. And we need to be strong if we are ever to leave this world and have magekind regain its freedom, its power. Imagine an empire encompassing not just Psyche, but a dozen worlds. A hundred worlds. A society ruled justly by the mage class. A society without the fraying once all the Orbs are gathered.”

  Lucian knew that she and him would never see eye-to-eye. “Having a vision like that is dangerous. Are there any limits on how far you would go to enact it? If there are no limits, then I don’t see how you can ever see yourself as the good guy.”

  Though Lucian couldn’t see her face, he could sense her displeasure. “You’re missing the bigger picture, Lucian. More is at stake than you know. The Unarcane would see us dead if it were in their power. So what if a few of them are slaves here on Psyche? They have made us slaves, and have done far worse. They would punish us, kill us, simply for how we are born. How is that justice?”

  “It’s not justice. But what about the average person suffering under your rule who had nothing to do with past wrongs? How is it fair for them?”

  “There are always victims in war,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “And this is a war of ideology. Not all of them would be slaves. They would not even go by that name. When we reach beyond Psyche, we will no longer need slaves, because we will have the technology again. But the Unarcane can never be as high as the Mages. After all, we are the next chapter in the human legacy.” She paused. “And I will see it through to my dying breath.”

  “I want no part in that.”

  “You have no choice, Lucian. It is your path. If you find the Orbs, it will prevent the fraying from destroying us. From there, it’s only a matter of time before the mages rule the Unarcane, because they can never hope to stand up to us. If not me, then another figure will come along. It will be war all over again, but this time, we cannot lose. And the society we build, whether that’s through an autocratic star empire, or through a representative democracy as we saw in the latter part of the last millennium, will be better than the one that now exists. You, Lucian, are the Chosen of the Manifold. My decades of work building up this world, marshaling its people and resources, have been in anticipation of your arrival. My empire was built to be your legacy. Maybe you don’t see it now, but you will one day.”

  Lucian fought to keep his face neutral. His legacy? The woman was mad. But he could also see her point. If he found all the Orbs and did nothing with them, the fraying would end. Some mage, whether that was Queen Ansaldra or someone else, would start a new Mage War. No longer limited by fraying, the mages would probably be impossible to stop.

  What was more, he would be immortal, barring accidental death. Lucian wasn’t sure what to think about that. Assuming he attained that impossibility, as t
he Queen believed he was destined to do, he would be more powerful than any mage that had ever existed since the Immortal Emperor of Starsea. There was still a missing piece of the equation. The Oracle of Binding wanted him to destroy the Orbs, which would destroy magic forever. Only that could stop the Starsea Cycle, and it would also prevent the Queen’s plans from ever coming to fruition.

  There were still too many intangibles. Lucian needed to learn more. And yet, the only person he could learn from was her.

  He didn’t like that part of the equation. Not one bit.

  “Once, I thought myself the Chosen,” she said. “However, I saw this was not the case as time passed. The Orb of Psionics, after all, never revealed itself to me. As inexperienced as you are, as young, as powerless, as unqualified, you are the Chosen. And as such, it’s my role to help you. We mages must stand together as a united front. As we once did fifty years ago. Do you think the League will ever tolerate our existence? Even if the fraying were to end, do you think they would let us call the shots? They are terrified of us. And for good reason.”

  “You lost at Isis. And because of the mages, that planet was destroyed. That’s why they created Psyche.”

  The Sorceress-Queen laughed. “Is that what you think? No. Xara Mallis was a brave woman. She failed in her own quest to find the Orbs, but I would stand behind anyone who had a chance of finding them. Isis was only the pretext for what had already been planned. Psyche would have happened, with or without Isis, with or without the Mage War. In fact, Psyche was the inciting reason for Xara and Vera to abandon the Academy Mages, the spark that set off the Mage War.” The Queen watched him, unassailable on her throne. “We were betrayed, Lucian. Stabbed in the back by the League that had promised us a place in its society.”

  Could such a thing be true? If it were, then everything Lucian thought he knew was wrong.

  She seemed to watch him for some sort of reaction. Lucian did his best to not betray any emotion, but against the Sorceress-Queen, such an exercise was one of futility. She could probably read almost anything he was thinking. What did the Sorceress-Queen know about Vera? It was hard not to ask questions.