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

he could do was watch the passing landscape below and stew on it.

It was clear they were not in the Riftlands anymore. The deeper rifts had been replaced by shallower, but wider, canyons, and the mountains between them were not as sheer. And the air was warmer, the sky bluer, the climate gentler. There were even puffs of white cloud that would not have looked terribly out of place on Earth. They even passed small villages in river valleys, with farmland along riverbanks. That told Lucian that wyverns and other predators were not much of a threat here.

“We are getting close to Dara, now,” Fergus said. “Perhaps several hours away.”

Lucian couldn’t bring himself to speak. He had never felt more lost, and every moment that passed, the others seemed more distant. Especially Cleon, but Serah too, in her own way. He didn’t blame them, but what else could be done? Their clothing was finer than anything they had ever worn, but it paled in comparison to his. It made him feel even more alone.

Over the following hours, the landscape became more varied. Rivers, lakes, and deep forests filled narrow valleys. Walled settlements rose from high hills and plateaus. Roads crisscrossed the verdant surface. An entire new world spread below them, rugged and wild. But that wildness tamed ever more with each passing hour. The farms became larger, the towns more populous, the roads wider, and the wild forests were replaced with curated woodland. In the more populated areas, a thin veil of smoke hung in the air.

And then, in the distance, Lucian noticed a long line of mountains stretching north to south, the tops of which were lost to white cloud. Those mountains loomed taller and taller as they approached. Impossibly tall. Lucian wouldn’t have been surprised if they reached tens of kilometers. It didn’t look natural. The mountains separating the rifts paled in comparison.

“The Mountains of Madness,” Fergus said. “I never thought I’d see them.”

Cleon’s eyes became strangely reminiscent. “I’m coming home, Lynne. For what little good that’ll do you.”

Everyone watched him, Serah with pity, and Fergus with curiosity. Cleon hadn’t mentioned his sister in the four days since their mutual audience with the Queen. It was for him to talk about if he so chose.

“Keep your head in the game, Cleon,” Fergus said. “This isn’t over yet.”

Cleon shook his head. “She’s got us by the balls. Rotting hell, we even have our magic back and there’s not a damn thing we can do.”

If there were any other way to reach the Orb, Lucian would have taken it. But saying as much wouldn’t do any good.

“Do you think she meant any of what she said a few days back?” Serah asked. “There were points where she almost had me convinced.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt most of it is true,” Cleon said. “That’s the thing about good liars. Ninety percent of what they say is the truth, so finding the lie becomes impossible.”

“Where’s the lie, then?” Lucian asked. “She needs me to find the Orb, otherwise she wouldn’t have me here. She needs you guys because she knows I won’t help her otherwise.”

“That’s comforting,” Cleon said.

Serah shook her head. “Well, clearly she’s smitten with you. Just try to remember there’s an old lady behind that fake body of hers.”

“Jealous?” Cleon goaded.

“I am in no mood,” Serah said. “Surely, I’m not the only one who noticed.”

“That part doesn’t add up,” Lucian said. “Not once have I ever heard of magic that keeps someone young. The only exception is longevity treatments, but those are fairly recent and haven’t spread much farther than Sol and the First Worlds, so it’s hard to imagine she would have that here. Maybe that’s where the lie is.”

“So, you think she has an Orb?” Cleon asked doubtfully. “She claims she’s the most powerful Psionic in the Worlds, right? What if that’s because she already has the Orb of Psionics?”

The others looked at him, confused. It was Fergus who broke the silence. “So, why would she need Lucian, then? And why would she lie about it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she has the Orb of Psionics, and the Orb in the Burning Sands is another one entirely.”

Serah shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Lucian said Orbs slow aging. Even with one Orb, she’d probably still look middle-aged.”

“We don’t know the rate of aging,” Lucian said. “It’s not like we have a precedent here.”

“It’s an interesting idea, but I think she might be telling the truth,” Serah said. “Just not the whole truth.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Cleon,” Lucian said. “Has she always looked this young?”

“She doesn’t show herself often, but when she does, she likes to play with the light in a way that you can’t really see her. It was pretty common knowledge though that she was some old hag.”

“So, this transformation had to have happened recently,” Lucian said.

If she didn’t hold an Orb, then Lucian was out of ideas. One thing was for sure: someone of her age and heavy magic use would almost certainly show signs of fraying.

None of it added up. Longevity treatments were popular among the League’s rich, but it was hard to imagine how she would have the infrastructure and industry here to support that. They weren’t going to figure it out now, so he set the thought aside.

Looking toward the bow, Lucian saw the mountains were much closer. From north to south, they stretched far above, almost like a wall rather than a mountain range. He could see why they needed to go through Dara first. There was no way through those mountains except for a large tunnel that wasn’t visible at this distance. The Pass of Madness was the only way to the Westlands, after which came the Burning Sands and presumably the Orb.

But now, they were close enough to see a familiar scene from Lucian’s dreams.

“Dara,” Cleon said.

Serah watched, her eyes wide. “Looks big, even from up here. Is it supposed to be that big?”

Below them spread a wide,