by P R Glazier
~
Deanola was tiring, the mage was still as strong as she remembered, a bad combination for her to pit herself against, for her enemy was both elven and younger than she. The control the Gatekeeper exhibited over the power she wielded was great. She seemed to feed from the Rift, it seemed to give her power willingly. Deanola thought she might be able to do the same but to drop her concentration and try and find a way to do this would make her vulnerable to attack.
The Gatekeeper studied her opponent, there was no doubt this mage had considerable power, then recognition came to her mind, she projected the words into the mages mind. “I finished you, we duelled, I won. You were dead. I felt you die!”
Deanola mentally shrugged, “I lied ……… Sorry.”
For the first time the Gatekeeper doubted her abilities, something inside her fought against herself, a weakness, an old connection to an old life. But she had the Rift. Or did she? The power was ….. changing, reducing, no not reducing, the Rift was still as powerful as ever, she could feel it, yet something about it was being diluted, some other power was creeping into its essence, changing it. It was almost a chemical thing, like wood changes chemically when burnt. Or heated water turning to steam, the water was still there in the same quantity yet changed physically. It was then she noticed the hole in the shroud above the Rift, she immediately understood. The Rift power was being intermixed with the power of the shroud. The Rift was being diluted with natural energies again. Years ago the Master had separated the two, cut the Rift off from the world. This had enabled him to command the Rift power, well at least to adapt it to his needs. Now the world was entering back again. She had to recall her army. Get them back into the city, back here to protect the Rift or they may all perish. All they had worked for would be lost; they would be back to square one, lone travellers trying to rebuild their strength once more. She would not suffer this; they had come too far to lose now. She dropped her power and withdrew her dagger, but she found some strange internal conflict stopped her from drawing on her own blood. Stopped her from making this sacrifice to the Master so that he would release the power for her to open a portal.
Deanola sensed the Gatekeepers power drop and she watched with interest as the dark elf mage knelt on the ground her hands clasped together as if in prayer. What was she doing?
Nar’Allia saw the dark T’Iea mage lower her hands and kneel upon the ground, strange, was she surrendering? No, surely to her it seemed the dark T’Iea always had the upper hand against Deanola. Yet it seemed that the battle between the two mages was over. Deanola just stood there looking at the dark T’Iea mage, she should strike now whilst she had the chance, why did she stay her hand?