The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

eyes. After his cell on board the Worthless, Psyche might as well have been paradise. The land was harsh, but that harshness also had breathtaking beauty. It was the last thing he’d expected. He’d imagined something much like the Isle of Madness on Volsung, only worse.

But he knew for all its beauty, there was even more danger. The wyverns and Ramore were evidence of that, and that had only been his first day.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lucian asked.

“You just did.”

“Why are you helping me? It has to be inconvenient, right?”

She sighed. “I have my reasons. Besides, no one survives here on their own. Not for long.”

“You have.”

“Not without help. People have taught me. My father . . .” She trailed off. Whatever it was she had been about to say, she decided it was better not to say it. From the prickly look on her face, Lucian didn’t prod further.

They walked all afternoon, descending deeper into the rift. The gathering darkness was more due to the rift’s sides blocking the sun than the onset of evening. Only a thin sliver of sky remained. Lucian wondered how anyone could live in such darkness. Perhaps there were fewer wyverns down here.

Serah was whistling a merry tune when Lucian spied two human forms round a bend. She gave no reaction, so Lucian figured it was safe. Lucian watched as they approached the two men, old, wizened, and weather-beaten. They each had a curious tattoo on their forehead, and his hackles rose at that. But Serah was still acting as if everything were normal. The brand was in the shape of a snake, or perhaps an eel. The old men stood aside to let them pass without a word, their wrinkled faces cautious and eyes suspicious.

“Good afternoon,” Lucian said.

One shook his head disapprovingly, while the other clenched his jaw.

Once out of earshot, Lucian looked back. “Not friendly, are they?”

“No,” Serah said. “Technically, you shouldn’t even be speaking to me.”

“Why is that?”

“Frays are outcasts. Shunned and forgotten. We can’t speak to Rifter folk, nor can we trade with them. The Snake Rifters abide by the same laws as the Deeprifters. Most of them, anyway.”

“That’s harsh.”

“In short, it would look bad if you were seen with me, so I’ll let you go when you’re close enough to be safe.”

“When will that be?”

“Oh, about an hour or two. What, missing me already?”

But Lucian’s mind was on other things. “You’re taking a risk by helping me. What if those two men tell their rift about you and me?”

“They’re from Snake Rift. Not really my concern.”

“What are they doing out here, then? This is the Deeprift, right?”

She shrugged. “Not my business.”

Lucian looked over his shoulder, but the two old men were lost to view. The mist had shrouded them.

It was hard not to feel bad for Serah. He kept that feeling to himself, though. Serah would be none too pleased with that sentiment. She walked proudly, almost too proudly, as if she were aware that Lucian saw her differently now.

“The social system here makes no difference to me,” Lucian said. “In fact, it sounds a bit unfair. I’m not going to shun you, no matter what people say.”

“If you want to be accepted by Kiro, then you must.” They walked a few steps more. “Let me tell you, I did my share of shunning in my day. Maybe I deserve it.”

The rest of the trip continued in silence, and Lucian was left wondering what he did, or said. Until he realized that he was dealing with someone with a lot of pain and rejection. Maybe she was upset that he could go where she could not.

At some point, the trail leveled off into a long, narrow gorge. Lucian saw several large caves up in the cliffs, some of which had lights. Mountains towered almost vertically around them, with only a narrow sliver of clouded light shining down from what had to be kilometers above.

“This is where my path ends,” she said. “They’ll kill me if I take one step more.”

She nodded toward a signpost with a symbol Lucian would have recognized anywhere – the Septagon, each point holding one of the Seven Aspects of Magic. It seemed to be a universal sign of mages, the Manifold, and magekind. He almost wanted to ask Serah about it to confirm, but her feet were already pointing up the trail. He didn’t understand how she survived without shoes here, but somehow, she made it work. She still had a fair distance to walk back to the cave, and it looked as if she was ready to be off.

“This is where our paths part, Lucian. May the fraying be kept far from you, and sanity close at hand.”

She turned to go, taking a few steps before Lucian called.

“Hey!”

She half-turned. “What? Were you expecting a goodbye kiss?”

He blinked in surprise. “No. It’s just . . . I don’t know. Never mind.”

She gave a small, sad smile. “Well, don’t be too sad. We’ll always have the wyverns. If for some reason they don’t let you in, the valley here is generally safe from predators. There’s probably some bush you can hide in until daylight.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Quit your dallying. Don’t tell them you met me. And when they ask how you killed the wyverns, don’t mention how much you wrecked the pass. That’ll lead to questions.”

Again, he got the feeling she knew more than she let on. But he didn’t want to explore that possibility.

“Goodbye, Serah. And thanks.”

She nodded, then walked up the trail into the gathering gloom.

5

Lucian followed the trail toward the light radiating from the massive cavern entrance. It was as Serah had said. A wooden wall, about five meters tall, together with a gate closed off the entire entrance. Two wooden outposts rose from beside the gate, each containing a guard wearing leather armor, each armed with a spear and bow. Lucian felt their eyes boring into him as he approached. He tried not to