by P R Glazier
Chapter 43. Within the Rift
Nar’Allia had spent a lot of the night thinking about what she had heard, her thoughts persisted in churning around in her mind, she found that sleep eluded her. She couldn’t help wondering if Minervar was here in the east, perhaps even held captive by the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran within the shroud. She wondered about the creation of the Rift, she could be sure now that the eastern men had used this arcane power instead of technological weapons. Just as the westerners had exploited their technological advancements, the easterners had exploited their knowledge of the arcane.
Suddenly it struck Nar’Allia. The old maintainer under the desert had talked of a split between two factions of the human population. One faction, the ‘true believers’ had been banished for their murderous works by the A’kath the ruling majority. The banished faction was wholly interested in returning to a previous life, returning back to what did they call it, ah yes, the ‘true life’. If the ancestors of the eastern men that lived here now were the true believers, then the ancestors of the nomads of the rust desert were presumably the A’kath.
What was evident though was that something else ended up controlling the fate of man, for man had lost control, whatever they started had gone beyond their influence and controlled itself, however perverse or misguided that was. The sky people, had arrived following the war surely, for they offered their help in putting everything back to rights, the machine sounded like it was built to aid the recovery of the world, not in its potential destruction. The ancient fathers according to Minervar had sought the involvement of the elder races in the construction of the great machine, what part had they all played in this? It was very confusing, if the elder races were the sky people, then who were the ancient fathers?
She knew of the Pnook who had provided their technologically advanced chips, the biplextor devices that controlled the machine, the four devices that Tezrin had stolen and the dark T’Iea sought for whatever purpose she did not understand, apart from their probable intent to do evil. The story Minervar told of the Grûndén creating the great cavern and the great light globes that housed the machine wherever that was. This was the second cavern that the Grûndén had created secretly, whilst building their great city of Gwéldølĩn under the mountains. That suggests that the beings called the ancient fathers had a relationship with the elder races long ago. But then if it was true that the ancient fathers had saved the races and brought them here then yes, they would have had a relationship prior to the elder races populating this world. So, did the ancient fathers also have a relationship with the men of the west also? Perhaps so for the old A’kath had also known of her race, just like Deanola’s history, but he had called them by their own name the T’Iea. The old A’kath had said something, what was it he had said?
“I saw it once you know, the ‘new world’. The Combined Races had saved many facets of the world as was, they kept many things alive that we had destroyed. I had a glimpse of the world as it probably is now. But that was long ago, in the place of your ancestors where they repaired me after the machines attacked. I have a lot to thank your people for my lady T’Iea.”
The star people, the ancient fathers, the combined races? Where these all one and the same thing? Just different terminology used by different peoples but referring to the same race?
Then she thought of the region in which they found themselves. It was obviously the same region that Serinae had travelled through when she was hired by Tezrin to recover the necklace, but Serinae had described the region as a waste land, why was it that this region of the planet, more than any other seemed to be affected by the loose arcane energy. What had she said to Tezrin? Serinae’s words from Minervar’s stories rang clear in Nar’Allia’s mind as if Minervar was here telling them:
“You hired me to track that filthy goblin man clear across all the Eastern Plains. after I had found our way through the high passes of the Tolle’Fornosse’Veetri it took eight days of false trails, and second guessing to find the goblin and run him down in that waste land. You know what that country is like Tezrin? The loose chaotic arcane energies, the shifting sands, the storms that seek to batter you relentlessly into the ground?”
Nar’Allia thought waste lands, yes maybe then Serinae’s description was during the period when the great machine was malfunctioning due to the sabotage by the dark T’Iea. The descriptions of loose chaotic arcane energies, absolutely according to Deanola’s descriptions. The shifting sands and storms also fitted her description. But the machine was put right and its purpose returned to the design it was originally intended for. Had the world changed so much since Serinae walked these paths so long ago? Had the great machine done this? Had it improved the world here in the east probably more than anywhere else? If so why had it not improved the environment of the rust desert? Nar’Allia shook her head, this was frustrating, too many thoughts were bouncing around inside her skull, she wondered if they would ever know the whole story.
Then the most terrifying thought. Deanola had plainly said that the dread elves, the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran were here. They had the ability to come and go from the Rift, the point in the fabric of the world where the great machine connected. They had taken over the Rift with the help of the Ognods, overthrown the Pnook people in their city. She had heard as much from JDC. An even darker thought crept into her mind, if the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran where here and able to traverse the Rift, then were they again seeking control over the machine? Maybe they had control already?
At some point Nar’Allia must have fallen asleep, for the next thought to enter her mind was a voice,
“She is here Nar’Allia, you know that?”
What? Nar’Allia stirred in her sleep.
“Here in the shroud.”
What? Nar’Allia sat bolt upright in her bed. Had she heard someone? “Serinae?” She looked around her, the rest of the party seemed still asleep, JDC was snoring soundly. A shadow passed across the warm glow of the hearth. Nar’Allia gasped she whispered, “Serinae? Is that you? Who is there?”
Another, not Serinae, but a different voice responded, “who indeed.”
Nar’Allia almost jumped out of her skin as the voice again whispered right next to her in the dark, “is this your doing?”
A faint glow emanated from somewhere, it illuminated a face, it was Deanola’s, she sat right next to Nar’Allia still clothed in her animal skin robes, Nar’Allia could smell the faint aroma of them. Nar’Allia’s gaze fell to where the glow emanated, it was from the mouth of the old quiver, the ethereal arrows could be seen.
The old sage looked down at the quiver and frowned. Then she said, “there is a presence, I suspect it is someone you know, or perhaps know of?” Deanola hissed into Nar’Allia’s ear. “I can feel someone’s arcane signature, that person, she is a long ear, an elf. She is here in this room, she is trying to communicate with you.” Deanola poked her finger into Nar’Allia’s breast bone and hissed. “Tell me, who is it? For if you are a spy from the dread elves I will have your life here and now.”
Nar’Allia looked down to where Deanola pocked her, she took a sharp intake of breath, for in Deanola’s hand metal glinted, the cruel glint of a sharp blade.
Nar’Allia felt the prick of the blade as it was moved under her chin; she was forced to look into Deanola’s eyes as an upward pressure on the blade was applied.
Nar’Allia stammered, not wanting to move her lower jaw for fear of being cut. “I don’t know exactly, but I’m pretty sure, at least I suspect, it’s an old friend of my step mothers. Her name is Serinae, she was …. is a T’Iea, an elven ranger. She disappeared during the travels that they made together when they were in the machine room the last time. I think she chose to go somewhere else rather than return home. My step mother knows the story better than I.” Then feeling rather foolish she added, “I have been hearing her voice, it seems to be coming from the quiver, or the bow that used to belong to her and I now have. I, I, even saw here once, far from
here on an island in the Sea of Beadreas, she told me to seek a sage, seek someone of Teouso’s people.” Nar’Allia shut her mouth suddenly. She felt that she had said too much.
To Nar’Allia’s surprise Deanola seemed satisfied with this explanation, for she nodded, withdrew the blade and secreted it back amongst her skins. Then she sat back on her knees and still looking at Nar’Allia asked, “and what is she saying to you now?”
Nar’Allia responded, “all I heard was – she is here, here in the shroud.”
“Who do you think this Serinae is referring to?”
Nar’Allia was quiet, thinking for a minute or two. “I think, well, I know, she refers to my step mother Minervar.” Nar’Allia thought for a while and came to a decision, “I’m sorry Deanola, what I told you before? Well I left out what is perhaps an important part of the story.”
Deanola’s eyes shone brighter at this admission, she cocked her head slightly to one side, “ah, then perhaps you had better tell me.”
“When Minervar disappeared a few months ago, she opened some kind of portal, it was accidental I’m sure. But the portal was some kind of a gate. But we know that this gate or portal was most probably placed by another who was in league with the dark elves. We think this other person used it regularly to get to and from the dark elf realm.” She sighed and dropped her eyes to her hands that lay on her lap.
It was Deanola that broke the silence. “A few months ago my child, the Rift shifted, something happened within it, a thrust of power, a shift in the arcane signature. I felt it.”
Deanola seemed to come to a decision. She rose and held out her hand, “come child, I want to show you something.”
They went outside of the hut, it was still quite dark, although Nar’Allia after taking a deep breath of the cool air, assumed it must be nearly day break as there appeared a warm glow through the mist to the east. Deanola took them out of the enclosure and they walked for some half an hour before she stopped amongst the heather. It was reasonably light by now, the ever present mist hung thick in the air, but Nar’Allia could not see anything other than the moorlands around them.
“Hold my hand,” Deanola held her hand up for Nar’Allia to grasp, Nar’Allia took it. Deanola walked forward tugging Nar’Allia along with her, her eyes closed in concentration. They had not gone two steps when Deanola disappeared into thin air, all except the hand that held Nar’Allia’s. Nar’Allia stopped dead in surprise, but she felt a tugging, the grip was firm, Nar’Allia could not break it so she was forced to walk forward. Suddenly she was not on the moor any longer. She stood amongst rocky outcrops, the heather had disappeared altogether. To either side of her stood walls of rock, under her feet was a rocky path. But over her head was the worst. Palls of thick black oily looking smoke in places interspersed with dark red steam billowed around high in the air, but no fire could be seen, at least not from here that could be causing the smoke. She tried to detect the stench of the smoke, but all she could smell was, well, nothing. Nar’Allia shied away from Deanola a deep suspicion in her eyes. “Where are we?”
“Do not be afraid my child, we are now deep within the shroud. Not just within it as were your two hapless friends, but at a level far deeper. The shroud hides many things, it is a maze of arcane energy. Above you where the sky should be is the Rift; here it empties out upon the world. The only reason we cannot see it outside is because of the shroud that surrounds the dark elf city. We are now deep inside the shroud at the level where the rift is. But something else is here to, something of great evil. The gnomes fled this evil and that same evil resides here still.
Nar’Allia looked around her, she suddenly realised that the rocky outcrops where in fact derelict buildings, or what was left of derelict buildings, which was not much. What she stood upon was the last remnants of a paved roadway. “you told us that you did not know the location of the Pnook, the Gnome city. How, I mean where is this place?”
“We are not far from my village, as to the how, well if you possess sufficient understanding of the arcane arts, you can find your way through the many wards and hidden powers that make up the shroud and keep this place safe from the eyes of the world. Yes, I did deny all knowledge, but I did not trust the Gnome that is with your company, at least not then. So I was less than honest with you to I’m afraid.” She looked up and seemed to indicate the boiling mass above their heads.
“This is the Gnomes ancient city, hidden here, but why”? Asked Nar’Allia.
“As I told you. The Gnomes fled the city because of the invasion of the dark elves and their allies the giants. I believe the dark elves sort the arcane energy here, they sort the power of the Rift. In fact I believe that they were subservient to it, controlled by it in some way. There are too many coincidences to lead me to suspect otherwise. My people have had an ancient connection with the arcane, the original discovery is lost to time, but there are many tales of the use of the arcane that we had at our disposal. We used it ultimately to destroy; I believe this misuse changed the nature of this natural power in some way. We were blind, we did not think of the consequences of opening and continuing to open the Rift wider and wider until it became uncontrollable. After the Gnomes left, the dark elves gained free access to the energy within the area and they quickly turned it to their advantage. Many have tried to harness the power, for good and bad.” Here Deanola looked hard at Nar’Allia. “I believe something entered the Rift at some time, the evil presence, an intelligence that can control those with a weak mind or maybe susceptible to its influence. I believe the elves, your people are susceptible to this influence, that is why the dark elves exist, they were taken long ago and have been under the influence of this malevolent intelligence ever since.”
Nar’Allia was shocked. “But how do you know this?”
“Some of my people can still tap into the energy, not many of us are left, but I am one. From an early age I knew of the existence of the power, I knew how to harness it, to use it to my will. The sky people used the Rift to power their great machine, of this I am sure. The dark elves use it for other reasons. I am the watcher, the caretaker. I am, through my mother’s line, the Gatekeeper as appointed by the sky people. I do my best to fulfil that role, to continue that task. I have felt the presence in the Rift; it has grown slowly over the years. The disruption of the star people’s technology has allowed the malevolence in the Rift to break free; it now commands the dread elves as it has never done before.
“Nar’Allia’s mind was racing, “so the reason Tezrin wanted to upset the workings of the great machine was not to destroy the world as such but to release this malevolent force, to free it from its bonds.”
Deanola nodded slowly in agreement. “Yes, my child.” She seemed to ponder upon her thoughts for a while. “The Rift is growing both in size and in power I have studied it for many years. I visit here occasionally just to see what may be happening, what the dread elves are doing here.” Then she started and looked suddenly in the direction the road on which they stood. “We are about to outstay our welcome child. Look.” She pointed in the direction in which she was looking. At first Nar’Allia could see nothing, but then a large figure could be seen striding out of the darkness ahead.
Nar’Allia flinched and started to edge backwards one word upon her lips, “Startmektoken.”
Deanola stood her ground, she had turned to look at Nar’Allia, “yes, that word you use, that is their ancient name for these men of metal.”
Nar’Allia was slowly edging backwards; the mechanical soldier was now almost right behind Deanola who still faced away from it looking at Nar’Allia. It halted and lowered its gaze to where Deanola stood.
Nar’Allia pointed, she was lost for words, suddenly she found her voice and shouted “Deanola, behind you!”
At the same time the monster seemed to come to a decision and it raised its weapon high above its head, Deanola just stood there looking toward Nar’Allia, she had an odd amused smile on her lips which were parted and moving, alm
ost trembling. Nar’Allia took a couple of steps forward; she wanted to drag Deanola away to safety. Deanola smiled, the weapon started its awful descent. Nar’Allia instinctively jumped backwards and tripping fell to the ground, she held her hand over her mouth, horror filled her mind. Then the weapon stopped dead, she felt a sudden chill in the air, at first she thought it was the fear that filled her mind, but she shivered for the air temperature had plummeted suddenly as if the freezing northern wind had blown around them. The sudden coldness of the air pained her throat and lungs, there was a crackling sound, a sound Nar’Allia recognised, the sound of ice breaking up in the sunshine of the spring thaw. It was her breath expelled from her open mouth and frozen immediately on touching the now greatly chilled air that surrounded them.
Deanola turned and looked up at the now stationary figure of the metal monstrosity, she smiled. “Come my child it is perfectly safe, at least for a while.” Deanola held out her hand for Nar’Allia to approach the monster.
Nar’Allia rose and stepped forward, her fear turning to curiosity. She stood beside Deanola looking up at the face of the Startmektoken. She reached out to touch it, but Deanola grasped her hand to stop her, “Don’t touch it child, you will hurt your hand badly.”
Nar’Allia was astonished, she could now see that the Startmektoken was covered in a shiny skin, she could feel the intense cold emanating from it, ice, yes ice, the beast was frozen solid.
“How? What?” Asked Nar’Allia.
Deanola smiled and shrugged, I have some skills with the arcane. Most are to do with water and ice. I was trained in the arts many years ago, I have some control over the many elemental forms of water.”
Something dawned on Nar’Allia, “you’re a mage aren’t you Deanola, a powerful one at that?”
Deanola tilted her head slightly in an expression of acknowledgement. “Some would call me such my child; to my people I am a sage, a protector. I am the reason that we can live in such close proximity to the dread elves. Your dark brethren have learnt to be weary, not to ….. how shall we say - upset me?” Deanola laughed. “I prefer sage for the title ‘mage’ suggests a war-like character and I do not use the skills I have for destruction, unless of course it is necessary. She turned and looked up at the frozen figure behind her.
“I showed some natural ability from a very young age. I was still young; I did not fully understand the power that I was endowed with. My youthful ways wanted more and quickly, I had little patience with my people for they could not teach me what I wanted to know. I felt I was better than them, had more potential, thought myself to be more powerful. They began to fear me; I knew I could control them. I was being seduced by my own power, intoxicated with it; I was going down the wrong path. My people then turned against me, incarcerated me, beat me. They called me a witch, an evil thing to be feared and despised, they marked me as an outcast.” She reached under her clothing to her neck and shoulder and pulled the cloth down to reveal her tattooed skin.
Nar’Allia remembered the marks there, the many scars and tattoos. How could anyone be so horrible to mark someone as such, to permanently paint them as something to be avoided, hated.
But Deanola continued, she shocked Nar’Allia by saying. “Then when I was eighteen a group of visitors from the west arrived from over the mountains of the great spine and stayed with us for about a year. They were long ears, elves like you, but these were not dread elves I might add, more like you, your kin perhaps. There were three of them, a ranger, a swordsman and the one, a mage who was greatly skilled in the arcane arts. This mage’s skill and knowledge was great, far beyond anything that my people can aspire to. This elven mage quickly determined where my particular arcane skills were focussed; he was able to teach me, focus my mind on the natural nucleus of the skill I possessed, something which the skill of my people could not achieve. So this he did, he schooled me in the arcane arts for about a year. It was enough; I learnt the rest myself.” Here she looked away in thought.
Nar’Allia detected much sadness there mixed in with great joy. Now very curious, Nar’Allia asked, “who then were these elves, these T’Iea?”
“They were soldiers actually; they were part of an army, sent here by their commanders from the elven city over the mountains. They did not say why they had come and I was too young to care. I enjoyed what I was being taught, the disciplines fascinated me. She turned and looked up at the Startmektoken. She stepped backwards encouraging Nar’Allia to also step away from the immobilised figure. Nar’Allia could see that the ice was starting to melt, drips of water were running down the body of the monster and dripping onto the ground. Then she raised her hand slightly, the coldness that hung in the air intensified suddenly once again, Nar’Allia had to step back further for the air she now breathed out froze immediately after leaving her mouth and it felt her tongue was freezing between her lips. They both walked back even further away from the Startmektoken. Suddenly the Startmektoken shattered like glass, it burst into a million pieces, the many shards shone and glittered as they slowly sank back to the ground. The very air crackled with their passage through it.
Nar’Allia looked at Deanola in a new light, no wonder the dark brethren left her and her people alone.
Deanola broke the silence that followed, “You remember earlier I told you about the Rift shifting, a repositioning of the arcane power and how I felt it?”
Nar’Allia recalled the conversation.
“I lost two good people trying to find out what the cause was. But what I did find was a dark mage, a warlock of great power, they suddenly appeared, tapping the rift energy. The mage kept his or her identity well hidden, but I got glimpses of the mage when we explored within the rift as we are doing now. The mage obviously detected us or me most probably, for I risked tapping into a little of the energy from the rift to detect the mage. It was a mistake, for I had given away our position. We were attacked, my two accomplices were killed, the mage had brought very skilled fighters with them and we were overcome, but my brave compatriots fought well and gave me the opportunity to escape, giving their lives in the process.” Here Deanola took hold of Nar’Allia’s hand and said, “but I had the information I wanted.” Deanola paused for a moment looking hard at Nar’Allia. “The mage Nar’Allia, she is like you, an elf of the great greenwood far from here. Her character was very strong, but also with weakness. Her heart and mind were not as well guarded as the other dread elves, I think some part of her mind still resisted the evil in the Rift. I caught a brief glimpse of her being. She felt similar, very similar to you. There was conflict inside her mind, one side wanted to heal, to help and cure all ills, the other was like a dark elf, black and filled with hate and malice. Yet she was with them, even commanded them. The dread elves obeyed her every command.”
Deanola continued to stare deep into Nar’Allia’s eyes as if trying to determine something deep within. Nar’Allia looked shocked, she tore her gaze away from Deanola, tears filled her eyes. “You must be mistaken. Minervar is no mage, she is a healer of our people. It can’t be her, it’s impossible, she would never, never be in league with the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran.” Nar’Allia’s legs gave way and she sat heavily upon the still cold ground, she gave in to her despair, for something in her mind told her that this might be true.
Deanola crouched and taking Nar’Allia’s arm she said, “no, I believe you. But the Rift can do strange things to the mind, especially those who are susceptible to its influences. Look at me I am a good example, luckily I was saved my torment, if not for your people then I may have been that mage in the dark elves realm. The dread elves seek such people, seek to persuade or enslave them to their ways. The fact is Nar’Allia, this mage, she has the potential to be extremely dangerous. I cannot afford to let her go down the path on which she now treads, whether by her own decisions or by her manipulation by the Rift. I have seen that path Nar’Allia; I have known what evil lurks there.”
“What do you mean? What do you intend doing?”
&
nbsp; Deanola sighed, “I don’t know yet, but we have to stop the dread elves from undertaking their plans whatever they may be. No good can come of this Nar’Allia.” She smiled a little as she pulled Nar’Allia back to her feet. “I will make a promise though, if I can save this mage in the process I will make every endeavour to do so, you have my word.”
Deanola motioned for them both to walk forward, to continue down the road. As they walked, Nar’Allia noticed many sarcophagi all containing Startmektoken. It reminded her of their journey through the facility under the desert sands. But here there were many more in number and they all looked functional.
Deanola said, “do not fear them I have a ward of my own shielding us from detection.”
“Why didn’t you place the ward before, before that first one attacked us?”
“Forgive me Nar’Allia; I wanted to give you a small demonstration.”
Once Nar’Allia found confidence in Deanola’s shielding she took some comfort from the words Deanola had spoken about Minervar, she also knew that the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran must be stopped. At least she now knew for sure what their next goal would be in the search for Minervar, they were right to come to this place. All they had to do now was to organise a rescue.
Suddenly as they came round a final bend in the road they came to a great wall, many tens of metres high stretching off to the left and to the right. The wall seemed built of enormous blocks of red stone. Directly in front of her a great gate stood closed; either side a turret rose vertically high into the air. The gate itself was immense. As she approached it she could see it was made of cast iron, or some other heavy metal, it looked foreboding and impenetrable.
“This is the city of the dread elves, they built it here many ages ago in ancient times. It surrounds the Rift. Can you feel it? It has grown even since I was here last. It worries me Nar’Allia; I fear that these arcane energies will once more become uncontrollable.” Deanola shivered.
Nar’Allia said, “so you think Minervar is inside and maybe partly to blame?”
Deanola nodded her head, she held her hand out to Nar’Allia, drew the heavy animal skins around her shoulders. She looked up at the swirling mass of boiling fume above them, her eyes flickered from one place to the next, she shivered as she said, “Come, we have lingered too long, I fear our presence may be detected once again, this time by worse than the Startmektoken. Come let us return.”