by P R Glazier
Chapter 47. On the Eve of Battle
At last they were ready. The metal army was prepared, ready to be unleashed upon their enemies. They had worked hard her people; the Gatekeeper had made sure of that. They had perfected the machines with hate and malice, powerful impetus for their mechanical hearts and biological minds. Yes, the time was here, the weak humans had been gathering forces beyond their borders, an attack was obviously imminent. But they would not be successful, especially now that their powerful leader, the human mage, the one they called Deanola had been eliminated. How dare they raise an army against the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran. The Gatekeeper smiled, revenge for this despicable act of aggression was soon to be within her grasp, she would show the world what they were now capable of, show the world the superiority of the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran. The very thought fuelled her people’s actions, spurred them on at a great pace. The Gatekeeper could feel it all around her, their hate had grown into a powerful driving force, the arcane energy from the Rift, that strain of energy she had discovered and nurtured was responding to the well of evil, feeding on it, adapting to it, amplifying it into a terrible force.
The Gatekeeper stood upon the apex of the bridge over the Rift. Below her a mass of moving substance, an oily inkiness rose and fell turning and mixing. She placed both hands upon the black stone. The block was made from a single piece of jet black stone, its entire surface very glossy and so smooth not a blemish, scratch or any abrasion could be seen upon its surface. Immediately she felt the presence of the Entity. She saw the face, the coal red eyes, the smiling features and the horned head. The Gatekeeper bowed in reverence, the Entity smiled and spoke. “You are ready my champion. Go forth, glory will be ours today, you will show the world what it means to be powerful, decisive, victorious. Fill your being with the sweet hate, go forth and show them our power. Make them quake in fear, make them wish they had never been born to see these days of our salvation.”
The Gatekeeper smiled, took a deep breath and slowly raised her head. She removed her hands from the block and turned to face the crowd of thousands. She stood in front of the masses her eyes remained closed, her smile reflected how she was basking in the sea of malice, the minion lay prostrate at her feet. She was amused by the way he shivered, cowered in fear. Yet he should be proud, he was going to be the pinion wheel of fate, the fate that would set her people the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran, on the road to power and domination, how could he not rejoice in the part he was about to play. She opened her eyes, the deep blue in blue shone out bright and piercing. She lifted her arms, the roar of her people increased to a deafening level. So, addressing her people she raised the dagger in her hand above her head, she relished the screams and shouts of approval from the masses, it was all-embracing, intoxicating. She gestured to the two personal guard; they stepped forward and bending down easily lifted the minion to his feet, they dragged him a few metres to where the enormous black block upon the raised dais. They flung him forward he stumbled against the block, he was stunned, unable to move, immediately what looked like tendrils of power spread out from the surface of the stone, they appeared to search the air around them until they seemed to sense the prostrate form of the minion, they moved with lightning speed and lashed around his body. The Rift writhed against his skin turning it red and blistered where its power touched. Awakened from his stunned stupor by the sudden pain, the minion turned and looked at the Gatekeeper with imploring eyes. The Gatekeeper still holding the dagger, uttered words of pure hate, she drove the dagger deep into the minion’s chest. Blood spurted out over the black stone, a crackling noise could be heard emanating from the stone block upon which the minion lay. The tracks of power lifted him up from the block and at the same time held him immobilised, his eyes wide with fear and pain.
Suddenly a thick crackling spark flew from the block hitting the minion squarely in the chest at the point the dagger hilt stuck out, his eyes rolled upward into his eye sockets, his body shook and vibrated like a leaf blown on the wind. Other crackling lances of power attached themselves to his body, his clothes began to smoulder, his skin began to burn and peel from his flesh which in turn began to burn and boil. A further stream of power leapt upwards from the block, but this one arched over in a circular shape high above, it curved round and beneath to re-join the block on the underside making a large circle of crackling power. Heated, ionised air rose high above the block and the widening circle. The remains of the minion’s body, all but black ash and dust started to swirl faster and faster in a circular movement then began to funnel through the centre of the gigantic portal and disappear within.
The Gatekeeper smiled, she turned and watched as the crowds parted leaving a wide roadway. Along the road came rows and rows of gleaming soldiers all dressed in shining armour. Each had a helm upon its head, circular in shape, slits for eyes, and a slit for a mouth. They marched forward as one, the ground thundered beneath their iron clad feet. The Battle Cruiser machine came down over the metal soldiers, the machine slowly moved forward at the same pace and passed into the gigantic portal. The Gatekeeper watched as it slowly passed through, as did the metal army of the Startmektoken. When they were through she gestured to her personal guard of some thousand soldiers, dressed in armour of black metal. All saluted as one and held out their weapons in a gesture of alliance. The Gatekeeper smiled and turning on her heels led her elite into the portal herself.