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

like me, you learn to separate truth from lies. I don’t think you’re lying, young man. I just want an explanation.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything, Lucian,” Serah said.

“Yeah, he does, honey,” Osric said. “Your friends already told me they want to find Slave’s Run. Well, you’re not getting there unless I can show you the way, trust me.”

“We had no choice, Lucian,” Fergus said. “They refused to help unless we told them.”

“And they promised to make this worth my while,” Osric growled. “That means all four of you are back out on your asses if I don’t like your answers, or your general attitude.”

“Well,” Serah said, “you’ve got us there, then.”

Osric nodded. “As long as we understand each other.” He looked at Lucian. “And why are you the hero, the one who wants to find the Orb? Why not Fergus, or Cleon for that matter?”

Telling the full truth would be risky. He was surrounded by frayed mages who could turn hostile at a single word from their leader. If he told them he already had the Orb of Binding, the man could kill him and take it for himself. But something told Lucian he wasn’t going to find out where Slave’s Run was without telling the truth. Some of it, anyway.

“Serah,” Lucian said. “Do you know where we are?”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “No idea.”

“You’ll die down here without our guidance,” Osric said. “Just like the enclaves up above, you have to earn your keep. And you can only do that by regaling me with a good story, and one that makes sense.”

“All right, then,” Lucian said. “But what I tell you can’t go beyond this group. It could ruin everything.”

“I’ll make that call, young man,” Osric said. “Now, out with it.”

Lucian heaved a sigh. This man was frustrating to the extreme.

“I hope you’re a good man, Osric,” Lucian said. “Because I’m about to give you the keys to the universe.”

Osric’s eyes widened slightly at that, while Fergus, Cleon, and Serah stared at him in shock.

“Well,” Osric said, “it’s safe to say you have my interest.”

Lucian told him about the Orb of Binding – how he’d found it, who had given it to him, and why it was his mission to find all the Orbs – including the Orb of Psionics. To his surprise, no one interrupted his story. Osric listened, completely rapt, along with Cyan.

The telling took so long that Osric had to signal for food to be brought half an hour in. Lucian ate gratefully, some sort of roasted meat that he hoped wasn’t gloombat. It was stringy and greasy, and its taste bland. But Lucian wasn’t about to refuse Osric’s hospitality.

Once he’d finished revealing his intention to find all the Orbs and end the Starsea Cycle, Osric shook his head and whistled.

“I asked for the truth, and what I got is something that’s so far-fetched that not even a Burner could have come up with it.”

“It is the truth,” Serah said. “I’ve seen him use the Orb. Just now, he split this huge pillar of rock as if it were nothing and sent the rock shards flying into the bats.”

“I have also seen his magic,” Fergus said. “I doubted at first, but he has time and again proven that he can wield an amount of Binding Magic that would fray any other mage.”

Cleon nodded his agreement.

“I see,” Osric said, stroking his scrabbly chin. “I was going to say I believed him, despite the extreme nature of the story, but I digress. We in Sanctuary believe in the Orbs. Some of our mages have even sought out the Orb of Psionics, like my aforementioned fool son. The words of the Prophecy spread like wildfire here a few decades back. Or like a virus if you prefer. But the Burning Sands are so vast, so dangerous, that finding it is a virtual impossibility. It’s not my business, though, if you mean to find it.” He eyed Lucian shrewdly. “You did well to tell me the truth. I’ll help you. At least, in my own way.”

Lucian’s eyes widened. “Help us? How?”

“I can lead you to Slave’s Run. Personally. It’ll take you a couple of weeks to get to the Mountains of Madness, and the monsters on the way will make that gloombat infestation look like nothing.”

“That’s our road,” Serah said. “Unless there’s another.”

“If there’s another way, Osric, you must tell us.” Fergus said.

“Oh, I’ll lead you down there all right. There’s something like a moving floor, that only I know the location of. You stand on them, stream a little magic, and they’ll go down.”

“I’ve used such a thing,” Serah said. “In my own way down to the Moon Sea several years ago.”

“There are many in the Darkrift,” Osric said. “It’s likely you found the one close to Snake Rift. Here, we are beyond the Blue Rift.”

“They’re called elevators,” Lucian said. “Or lifts, if you prefer.”

Osric’s brows scrunched. “Elevators. I like that name. They are truly magical devices, an invention of this long-dead race that we simply couldn’t conceive of until you see them.”

Lucian didn’t bother to correct him about the history of elevators. “So, one is nearby?”

“Why would there be elevators down here?” Fergus asked. “Who built them?”

“I imagine the same ones who built the City of Ancients,” Osric said. “What does it matter? This moving floor – err, elevator – is not a waking’s walk from here.”

Lucian was confused at his wording for a moment, until he realized there was no day and night down here. A “waking” must have been the amount of time one could walk in a day, judged by how long a human naturally stayed awake.

“You must lead us to this elevator,” Fergus said.

“Why’s it always must with you, Captain Fergus?” Elder Osric asked. “I do what I damn well please. Lucky for you, I will lead you there. There have been reports of the Queen’s soldiers in the Darkrift, too.” He arched a bushy eyebrow. “That wouldn’t have anything to