The Rifts of Psyche

by Kyle West

  Lucian donned a pair of socks along with his new leather boots. The rough, flaxen shirt felt scratchy on his skin, but he supposed he’d have to get used to that. The outfit was colorless, looking like something out of medieval times. There was no auto-tailoring here with nanotech, no changing colors. It would have to do.

  He judged about half an hour had passed since Fergus left, but it would be wise to be early. He was no longer cold from his dip, and was actually feeling refreshed, if exhausted. As he walked up the shoreline toward the main village, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were in a dream.

  He ascended the stairs leading to the main part of the village, brushing past people on his way. No one talked to him. He was still an off-worlder, and apparently unwelcome. Even if people didn’t talk to him, he could see they were talking about him – from porches, from inside homes, from narrow alleys. There were even people pointing from across the stream on the opposite end of the village. It seemed all of Kiro knew he was here.

  He headed to the rope bridge spanning the stream. It swung back and forth as he walked across carefully, trying to ignore the frothing white water beneath. He heaved a sigh of relief once he reached the other side.

  He wasn’t the only one heading toward the meeting hall. There were young people about his age, middle-aged laborers, and older folks as well. There was an entire community here, probably one of many taking up residence in Psyche’s rifts. And in a tight-knit community like this, Lucian knew it was hard to be accepted. They had likely known each other all their lives.

  And yet, this was what was expected of him. And he needed to stay alive. He knew he should try to be more friendly, but he was just too exhausted. When he looked directly at the townsfolk, it seemed as if they were focusing on anything else. And yet when his eyes went forward, he could feel their eyes return to him. The only exception were two girls about his age, who giggled when they saw him. They walked on ahead, laughing the entire time. Well, it seemed no matter where he went, girls would be girls. It was a strange thing to find comfort in.

  A hand clapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump. He turned to see a balding, bearded man in his middle years, with a swarthy gut and hairy forearms. How a man of his heft could sneak up on him, Lucian could never guess.

  “Were you looking at my daughter?”

  Lucian sputtered. “Err, no sir. They were just laughing at me, so it drew my attention.”

  The man gave him a deadened glare, and then suddenly broke into a laugh. “I’m just messing with you, son.” He nodded ahead. “Bonfire’s that way. Need me to show you there?”

  Lucian nodded, still reeling. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Keep your head forward, and your eyes focused on those flames,” the man counseled. “And stop making eyes at the girls here.”

  Making eyes? He wanted to protest but he knew it was useless to argue.

  “Name’s Kieron Wardley. I’m the village smith.”

  Lucian almost said he could tell from his burly appearance and hairy forearms, but he refrained. He was getting too tired for his own good. Unfortunately, he would have to speak at length soon while not sticking his foot in his mouth.

  Lucian and Kieron passed some of the nicer buildings of Kiro, including the smithy Kieron must have owned. He could feel the heat emanating from the open-air forge. Lucian wondered just what kind of things he made here. He hadn’t seen much in the way of metals in this place, outside the guards’ bronze shockspears. And why bronze, anyway? Maybe this world was iron-poor, or maybe they didn’t have the capacity to get their fires hot enough.

  They had now arrived at the bonfire, the flames about twice Lucian’s height. There were around twenty people gathered so far, and all conversation went silent at Lucian’s approach. He stood still for a moment. Should he wave or something?

  “Your seat’s over there,” Kieron said in his deep voice, pointing a meaty hand at the opposite end of the flame. There was a wooden chair, separated from the rest of the assembly, while the rest of the seating was arranged on the other side.

  He watched in silence as the village filled the chairs up, including the two girls he had seen earlier. He kept his eyes far away from them. Captain Fergus, along with some of his guards, stood right outside the meeting hall entrance just a few meters away. From within that building, Lucian could smell spiced meat and the aroma of freshly baked bread. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since Serah had shared some of her breakfast, and that hadn’t been much at all. He was so hungry that he was feeling somewhat lightheaded and nauseated. Hopefully, this was over and done with quickly.

  His eyes flicked back to the pretty, dark-haired girl, who he guessed to be Kieron’s daughter. Why was he looking at her again? Exhaustion and nervousness were a poor combination.

  At last, the murmuring of the crowd died at the sound of approaching footsteps. It took every ounce of will for Lucian not to turn. He wondered whether he should stand, but decided to remain seated. There were still five empty chairs, placed slightly in front of the rest. Elder Ytrib and another elderly man with a long, gray beard sat down, along with three women. All the women wore their hair long, their bone jewelry clanking on their necks and from their ears. Lucian noticed what looked like the tip of the wyvern fang he’d given to Ytrib was now part of the Elder’s necklace. That might be a point in Lucian’s favor.

  The following silence was thick, and the only thing that could be heard was the crackle of flames and the rush of the stream. Lucian wiped a bead of sweat trailing down his brow. The heat of the flames was almost unbearable. Or was that only his nerves?

  At once, Elder Ytrib withdrew his spear, which made Lucian go stiff in his seat. But he only rapped it three times on the rocky ground beneath.

  “Rise, Outsider. Your Accounting has begun.”

  Lucian swallowed the lump in his throat and rose. He hoped he hadn’t missed a spot shaving. Is that why the blacksmith’s daughter was smiling with the mischievous eyes? He needed to stop looking at her.

  “You may begin your address.”

  Instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes went on him. Lucian cleared his throat, hoping that whatever he said, he didn’t sound stupid. He wasn’t good at being judged, as his fatal audience with the Transcends had clearly shown.

  “First, my name is Lucian. Lucian Abrantes. In case you didn’t already know. I’d like to thank you and your people for your hospitality. I landed two days ago way up in the Upper Reaches. Um, I crashed, to be more accurate. Hopefully, all of you will allow me to stay here until I get my bearings.” He gave a nervous laugh. Everyone remained silent. “Well, I’m honored to be here, and would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

  “The Elders will be asking the questions,” one of the female Elders said, primly. Her long gray hair and hawkish gaze reminded him too much of Transcend White, and of course, Vera. Like those two, he got the sense that she was a powerful mage indeed. “I will begin. Are you frayed, Outsider?”

  “No,” he said. Why were they staring as if he were lying? “At least, not to my knowledge. I’ve been told it’s hard for a fray to know they are fraying until the signs are obvious.”

  “And are they very obvious?”

  “Err . . . no. Not by my estimation. There’s no rot, and I can still think straight.”

  “We shall soon see about that.”

  An icy silence followed this statement. Lucian tried to ignore all the eyes on him.

  Elder Ytrib was next to speak. “Give your Accounting, Outsider. That was only an introduction. Choose your words well.”

  As if he wasn’t already trying his best to do that. “I will, Elder.” He licked his lips. “As I said before, my pod crashed two days ago in the Upper Reaches. It took me a couple of days before I could find my way down—”

  “How did you find Kiro?” one of the other female Elders interrupted. Of the three women, she had the most bone jewelry around her thin neck, adorning her hair, piercing her nose, ears, and mouth.
<
br />   “A fray led me here. A girl.”

  Elder Ytrib held up a gnarled hand, and Lucian stopped speaking at once. “You need not name her. We know the details.”

  Some in the crowd started whispering at that. There was something he was missing. Serah was known here, which made sense, considering she used to live here. That meant these very people had exiled her once upon a time, and associating with her might be a point against him.

  The other male Elder, who had a long, narrow face and dark skin, broke his silence. “Why don’t you tell us some of your history, Outsider. Who you are, where are you from, and what brings you here?”

  “Yes, I should have done that at the start. My name is Lucian, as I said before. I’m from Earth.”

  That made the crowd whisper even more, as if Earth were some mythical place that people only heard rumors about. In this backwater of a backwater, he might as well have said he had come down from heaven itself. If only these people knew that Florida was closer to a drowned, watery hell than heaven, they might change their opinion.

  He gave them the basics – how the League had identified him as a mage and forced him to go to Volsung. How the Transcends there had exiled him for failing the Trials. That was a bit of a lie, but he didn’t want to get into specifics. He told them a bit of the Isle of Madness, as well as his choice to come to Psyche rather than remain there. All watched him with rapt attention, none so much as the Elders. Captain Fergus from beside the Elders’ chairs didn’t bother hiding his scowl.

  “You know the rest. I came down here, killing two wyverns on the way. And now I stand here before you.”

  Lucian waited an inordinately long time. The fire crackled, the stream ran, and everyone just watched him, as if waiting for him to break under the pressure. At last, Elder Ytrib broke the silence.

  “All that’s very well. Now, how do you think you might best serve the village?”

  Now was the chance to make his case. “I’m a hard worker. I won’t complain. I’ll do any task that’s given to me. I’m used to that type of thing, especially from my time as a Novice in the Volsung Academy.”

  “And yet the Transcends exiled you.”

  “That’s true,” Lucian said. “I made some mistakes. But I believe I’ve learned from them.”

  Elder Ytrib held up a hand. “All right, all right. Well, I think you’ve said enough, unless you have anything further to say?”

  Lucian felt the tension go out of his shoulders, at least somewhat. His part was done. Now, all he had to do was wait. “I think I’ve said what I wanted to say.”

  “Well,” said the heavily pierced woman, “he seems harmless. In need of a hot meal, and it’s not like us to turn someone away, especially when they’ve already given a gift of immense value.”

  Lucian assumed she was referring to the wyvern fang Serah had sawn off for him. “I can fight, too. If it comes down to it.”

  The Elders stared hard at him, and Lucian knew he had made a mistake by opening his mouth. He had to treat these Elders as if they were Transcends. Do not speak unless spoken to. Of course, he could only hope these Elders didn’t treat him the same way the Spectrum had.

  “I concur,” the first woman said, who looked like Vera. “We should give him a chance. See if his story holds up.”

  “I also agree,” the youngest of the three women Elders said. She had more black in her hair than gray, along with a plump figure.

  That left the two men, who exchanged a glance before one of them broke the silence.

  The tall, mournful one with dark skin stroked his beard. “Not an easy thing, to take on someone when things have been so hard. But supposing what he contributes is greater than what he takes, I’m for it.”

  “It’s settled, then.” Elder Ytrib stood, and broke into a wide, gap-toothed smile while holding out a hand. “If you’ll join us, Lucian, then welcome to Kiro.”

  Lucian approached and took it, feeling a relief such as he had never known. “Thank you, Elder Ytrib. Thank you, Elders.”

  “Save your fawning,” the hawkish woman said. “I’m Elder Jalisa. I guess you might call me the village Seer. My gifting is prophecy and Psionics.”

  The other Elders introduced themselves. The thin woman with the bone jewelry approached. “And I’m Elder Sina. I’m something of an herbalist. If you’re sick, I’m the one who will treat you.”

  Lucian nodded respectfully to both.

  The sorrowful-looking man approached. “I’m Elder Erymmo. It’s nice to have a fellow Earther among us.”

  “There is no nationality or planetary affiliation among us,” the quiet, portly female Elder said, approaching. “We are one community here and one blood. Now and forevermore.” She favored Lucian with a welcoming smile. “I’m Elder Gia. Elder Ytrib is my husband.”

  Elder Ytrib wrapped an arm around her.

  The Elders turned, as if of one unit, to include the rest of the assembly. “Come. Let’s feast, and make our new brother, Lucian, welcome.”

  Lucian was swarmed. First by the children, who jumped around him like jackrabbits, and then the adults, who gave more sedate introductions.

  Once that was done, there was nothing but to join the stream of people entering the meeting hall.

  7

  Inside, a veritable feast had been spread on a large mat on the floor. It seemed that Lucian had nothing to be afraid of at all. His acceptance had probably been a foregone conclusion. The interior of the meeting hall was spacious and well-lit, containing a large lower floor and a small upper loft made from wood. People took up spots around the food right there on the floor, all laughing and talking.

  Kieron grabbed Lucian’s arm. “Come. Sit with us.”

  Lucian followed him in a daze. Being around so many people like this was so foreign to his recent experience that he didn’t know how to process it. People were shouting his name, especially the children. It was more noise than he’d dealt with in a long time. More life than he had experienced since . . . well, ever. This would not be one of the more reserved meals at the Volsung Academy, that was for sure.

  Lucian sat next to Kieron and tried to ignore the dark-haired daughter that had been eyeing him earlier, who sat next to another young woman, the one she had been walking with toward the bonfire. Next to Kieron sat a pretty middle-aged woman, long and willowy, who watched him with hooded eyes.

  “Lucian,” Kieron said. “This is my wife, Julia.”

  Lucian wasn’t sure of the mannerisms here, so he nodded his head and smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Kieron’s daughter and her friend giggled at that, and Lucian’s cheeks flushed.

  “Girls, be kind to our guest,” Julia said, shooting them a look of warning. Her voice was melodic and calming to listen to. “Why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

  Kieron’s daughter stifled her giggles long enough to give an answer. Her dark eyes were mischievous. “Morgana.”

  “I’m Myra,” the other girl said, shyly. Her eyes were wide and blue, and her hair copper-red.

  “Nice to meet you both,” Lucian said.

  Morgana only watched with a slight smile. There was something strange about her eyes, but Lucian couldn’t tell what it was. He wished she would stop looking at him like that. If she kept it up, it was going to be an awkward meal.

  Thankfully, neither of her parents seemed to notice the behavior.

  “Why don’t you serve our guest, girls?” Kieron asked. “He’s had a rough couple of days, I’d imagine.”

  The girls didn’t snicker this time, instead doing exactly as Kieron asked.

  While the girls were away, Kieron leaned closer. “As you can see, we don’t often have guests in the village. The excitement can last for weeks.”

  “I see,” Lucian said. “Are most of you natives of Psyche?”

  Kieron nodded. “We’ve a couple of mages from other worlds. Elder Erymmo is an Earther like you. Captain Fergus is from Irion, and Elder Jalisa from Hephaestus Station. All three were s
ent here by prison barge, albeit years ago. But the rest of us are Psyche born and raised.”

  “Even Elder Ytrib?”

  “Aye,” Kieron said, with a nod. “Elders Ytrib, Gia, and Sina are descendants of the first colony, settled over a century ago. It’ll be nice to have another mage among us. Of course, the Elders are all mages, and some of the watchmen can stream, too. We have ten mages in all.”

  “Really? I thought there would be more.”

  Kieron had a laugh at that. “Oh, nothing like that. I’d say mages are about half-in-half from other Worlds or born here. Of course, anyone, mage or not, must give an Accounting before the village can accept them. There have been . . . mistakes . . . in the past.”

  “I see.”

  Julia smiled. “As long as your words are true, you have no need to worry.”

  At that moment, Morgana and Myra returned, setting down clay plates in the middle of the group. There was a haunch of meat from some animal Lucian couldn’t begin to guess, though it looked like mutton. Could it be they had Terran livestock here, perhaps descended from the original colony? Whatever the case, the meat was covered with some sort of red sauce and was served next to a large bowl of mixed vegetables, some recognizable and some not. Another plate contained puff pastries, along with a green dipping sauce. There were kebabs of creatures that looked like shrimp, or whatever the local equivalent was.

  He noticed there was no silverware, either, though there were bowls of warm water spread at regular intervals. He assumed it was for washing before and after eating.

  At this point, Lucian didn’t care what or how the people of Psyche ate. He had never felt so ravenous in his life.

  He let them take the lead and watched as they washed their hands and filled his plate, with hands as he had suspected. When Julia gave it to him, he thanked her, and it took all his self-control to wait for everyone to get their own food. When he finally started eating, every eye was on him, watching for his reaction. When he took a bite of the spicy meat, an explosion of flavor, he had never tasted anything as good in his life.