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

and streaming a light sphere. Next, they had him lift the pot with a Gravitonic stream, which Lucian did with a bit more difficulty. He was starting to feel drained, and it would only be harder to stream as he drifted further from his primary.

“His Radiance is nowhere near as pure as his Psionics,” Elder Jalisa said. “Which is not what we should expect if both are secondaries. And his Radiance is less pure than Gravitonics. Most curious.”

He next streamed Dynamism, a simple shielding that he couldn’t hold for more than five seconds.

“Quite weak,” Elder Sina said. “Now for Thermalism.”

He was able to boil a pot of water quite easily, though he was pushing his limits. The taste on his tongue became acrid, enough for him to cough.

“Stop,” Elder Gia said. “You are close to overdrawing.”

Lucian cut off his stream.

“Given these results,” Elder Gia continued, “we can expect Atomicism and Dynamism to be his weakest Aspects.”

“But that’s not consistent with Binding being his primary,” Elder Ytrib said. “His weakest should be Thermalism and Atomicism.”

“We can’t be entirely sure unless we ask him to stream Atomic Magic,” Elder Ytrib said. “And I would not have him do that. At least, not here.”

The Elders settled into silence. He was a puzzle to be figured out, and it was a puzzle that could only be solved if he opened his mouth and told the truth. But the risk was too great. If any of them knew what he had, they might kill him for it. The Oracle had said that friends and family turned on each other for the mere chance to hold an Orb.

For that reason alone, Lucian couldn’t trust anyone with what he had.

“Well, friends,” Elder Ytrib said, after a long silence. “I believe we have exhausted every other possibility.”

At once, their gazes fixated on him. Those eyes were knowing, judging, seeming to see to the marrow of his bones.

“Lucian,” Elder Jalisa said, “I don’t believe you are tricking us in any way, nor do I believe you were simply born this way. Nor do my fellow Elders here. There is only one explanation that makes sense.”

She paused, as if to give him an opportunity to confess. But Lucian wasn’t going to say anything.

If they wanted to say it, then they would say it.

“It would seem legends have come to life,” Elder Gia said. “We know the truth, Lucian, for there is only one explanation for why your Binding stream would be of perfect purity. Our only question is, where in the Worlds did you find the Orb of Binding?”

There was no use denying it. If they really wanted the Orb, then they would kill him for it. But despite this fear, it didn’t seem as if any one of them had that in mind.

The least he could do now was tell his story, hopefully to convince them that killing him was a bad idea. With some prodding, he told the full story, leaving nothing out this time. He even told them about his dream with the Sorceress-Queen, at which all their expressions darkened.

Once done, Elder Erymmo cleared his throat. “When he mentioned Shantozar, I suspected the truth. But I didn’t believe it until now, until I saw that the purity of his stream was not my madness.”

“How do you even know about the Orbs?” Lucian asked. “Where I come from, few know about them.”

“It’s no story,” Elder Gia said, her expression one of reverence. “It’s history. I don’t know how it is outside Psyche, but here, most believe in the Orbs. Not everyone, but most.”

“I didn’t,” Elder Jalisa said, faintly. “I once studied Arian’s Prophecy of the Seven from a scholarly perspective as a Talent of the Irion Academy, long ago. I sought to disprove it. But when I was sent to Psyche, I took my memories of the prophecy with me. I wrote out everything I remembered, and discovered things in those lines that were closed to others. I supposed you could say it was . . . a revelation.”

“What revelation, Elder?”

Elder Jalisa watched him closely. It seemed the other Elders were deferring to her. This was clearly her area of expertise.

“There were Seven Orbs, keys to the Manifold and called the Jewels of Starsea. Starsea was the ancient empire of the Builders. Of course, their existence was prophesied by Arian in the days when magic was new to the galaxy. Well, new to us humans. Magic has always existed, but was somehow lost during the days of Starsea. None can say just how much time has passed since then, but certainly over a million Earth years. The Builders, sometimes called the Ancients, used it to create their gates, but that is the only remnant of magic that has remained. When magic returned, Arian had his prophecy about the Seven Orbs. But his revelation from the Manifold was . . . garbled. It was impossible for mages to understand his words, or at best, they might understand a small fraction of it. Even so, many mages took these fractions of truth and used them to seek the Orbs, though none were ever found. At least, not that we know of.”

Lucian wondered how she could have even memorized Arian, especially if what he had written was garbled. The words of his prophecy were indecipherable. The times he had read it, nothing made sense outside one passage, which had described the Orbs and their existence. But apparently, Jalisa had gleaned enough information to know what he knew – and perhaps more.

“Where did you find the Orb, Lucian?” Elder Sina asked. “You haven’t told us yet.”

“Volsung. There is an island far to the north, near the ice cap. I’m not sure where it is on a map, but it’s where the Academy sends their exiles. I sort of . . . stumbled upon it without realizing what it was.”

“Of all the places in all the Worlds,” Jalisa said, not believing. “The odds are insurmountable.”

“Unless the Manifold meant him to find