A quick update before the story: I took out the author-note chapters in this, and I tried to rearrange all of them but for some reason won't let me keep all 4 Faye stories together. I don't know why this is, and it is bothering me. This is a quick story about the formation of the Great Rift, where Tyme's Rebels hide. I may add more to it later, if I do, expect to see it uploaded. And you see, I didn't forget about you guys!

This one also needs a bit of a back story, I suppose. This battle takes place on the Alohun plateau, where the Great Rift is loacated in the future. Already a place of wild magic, courtesy of the two colliding rivers mentioned in this story, this war between mages tore up the fabric of the area and caused it to become what we know as the Great Rift. By the way, excuse the title, but I also can't get a symbol to stick between this and the story.

The War of the Rift

I reined my horse in as a winged one swept low over me. She landed and saluted smartly in front of me, sparing not one glance for my terrified mount.

"Their army is a little over half a day's ride away, sir," she began, not even pausing to catch her breath from a strenuous flight. "There is a large field between them and us, one that I think would work perfectly as a battlefield. Their mages are resting, not even lighting so much as a candle with magic."

I nodded my thanks and she flew off to her own unit to rest.

The enemy army was made up of more mages than soldiers, and still they outnumbered our largely un-magical group. We had fought several skirmishes and lost most of them to superior magical ability, and our morale was swiftly falling. The only reason any soldiers still followed me was fear—terror—at the alternative; a life lived under the yoke of those with magic.

Our few mages disagreed and many had died proving their loyalty to us.

One of the few remaining generals was suddenly at my side.

"What will we do, sir?" he asked. General Markgher was a blunt man whose only concern was to live another day.

"We make camp. March hard tomorrow morning, and follow our plan. We must assume they've seen us, too. They'd have to be idiots, not to have scouts."

"Magical or otherwise."

I grunted my agreement, still staring out at the horizon.

"Will it work?" Markgher asked, with the only tremor of fear that I ever heard from him in his voice.

"It had better. We're all that's left."

He left me at that, and I went to my tent.

I slipped into my battle harness early the next morning. My body was refreshed by a deep sleep, but my mind had never stopped thinking. Sending the body into slumber was an old warrior's trick, but no one knew how to stop the mind.

A commotion outside my tent in the twilight of dawn preceded the tent flap being thrown open. A winged one stepped daintily into the tent, and if I hadn't know the woman I may been fooled by the show.

"General Kil'nara," I said by way of greeting.

"Marlien," she said, lacking any titles.

She did this only to provoke me. "Why are you not with your troops?" The winged ones had flown away at midnight. We hoped the enemy would think they were deserting us, or that we had cast them out because they were "inferior."

"I figured you were severely lacking in generals, so I'd stay and help." She lounged in my only chair and started picking cubes of cheese from my breakfast tray.

"We have all the generals we need."

"But you don't have this." She held up a small glass disk.

"And why would I need that?" I stifled annoyance and folded my arms, staring down at her.

She wove the disk through her fingers. "Your plan involves two mages casting two large spells that will inevitably cause total magic fatigue."

"And?" I should have waited her out.

"Patience." She resettled herself and spent a moment choosing a slice of my last piece of fresh fruit. "It's almost turned," she commented after swallowing the morsel. "Anyway, this disk, when broken, will produce a screen of magic larger and stronger than your mages can, and it causes no fatigue."

I didn't bother asking her how the glass disks worked, or why she hadn't mentioned them before. "Take care of it," I told her, and she left the tent, glad for something to do.

Markgher was in before the tent flap settled. "What did she want?"

I sighed. "If she wasn't what she is, I don't think I'd let her get away with all of it." Kil'nara was a shapeshifter, a child of a human and a winged one, and hence a very powerful mage.

Markgher merely grunted. He knew how she was.

"What she wanted was to inform me of an improvement in our plans. We are using enchanted glass disks instead of two mages for the magic screen."

"Nice of her to tell us now," Markgher quipped.

I ignored the sarcasm. "We should go over the plan once more."

"You tell it to me this time."

I almost protested, but I was nervous. The plan was largely based on guesses and hopes, but it was the best we could do. "Out soldiers meet theirs. Most of our mages stay behind the battle and cast shielding or attacking spells, depending on their strengths. The other split into two groups. Each group has one glass coin which they then break. General Kil'nara is taking care of that now. Under the cover of the spell, they make their way behind the enemy mages and try to remove their shields by killing the shielding mages. The winged ones-"

"Isians," Markgher interrupted.
"Winged ones. I will not call them 'extra limb.' The winged ones will hopefully fly back in about then and finish destroying the enemy mages."

"That's the overview," Markgher agreed.

But will it work? lingered between us.

"Sir, we're ready to march," a young courier informed me, before leaving as abruptly as he had entered.

"Well, Commander Marlien, it's time to see if it all works." Markgher left to his own unit.

We marched all morning, meeting the enemy host before midday. Two rivers nearby met in the oddest way—they simply collided into each other, sending violent turbulence back along all three forks. The enemy sent a soldier to parley—we shot him down.

I rode my horse to the head of our soldiers. I would ride into this battle with my men. Everyone knew their parts well enough that I could leave.

In silent agreement, both sides began to move at the same moment. I led my soldiers without a word of encouragement. Everyone knew that this was our last chance.

We clashed in the middle of the field. It was strangely silent, and time seemed to go too fast. We took out soldier after soldier, avoiding what little magical attacks penetrated the shielding, or dying.

Finally fire erupted in the enemy soldiers. We had succeeded. With renewed vigor my soldiers released their first battle cry.

It was amid these hopeful noises that I felt a sword bite into my leg. It was dragged off my horse even as I tried to wheel it around. I felt more blades slice into me, then suddenly it stopped.

Everything stopped.

I think we had won, but I couldn't think. I blinked blood and sweat out of my eyes and looked to the overcast sky.

The sun came out, the clouds disappeared, and the weather warmed.

It was all over.