City of Illusions Read online

  Kim ten Tusscher

  City of Illusions

  First published in 2008 as “Hydrhaga”

  Copyright © Kim ten Tusscher, 2008

  Copyright © Zilverspoor/Alter Ego Press, 2013

  This translation © 2013 Zilverspoor/Alter Ego Press

  Cover design by Yealin_art, https://www.instagram.com/yealin_art/

  Cover art by Yealin_art, https://www.instagram.com/yealin_art/

  Translation by Judit Coppens

  Copy editing by J. Kevin Thomas

  kimtentusscher.com

  Facebook: kimttee

  Twitter: @kim_t_tee

  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Alter Ego Press is an imprint of Zilverspoor, www.zilverspoor.com.

  Prologue

  Centuries ago, the city was still called Arminath. No sign of the war between elves and men yet marred the city. It was a peaceful time, in which the elves had the chance to develop their talents.

  Elvish architecture closely resembled the natural environment and it served to camouflage the city from the eyes of strangers. To the outside world, Arminath looked like a hill overgrown with trees. On closer inspection, however, the buildings of the elves could be discerned, spiraling from the boughs on high, down to the ground below. The center of the city was hidden from view by a circle of high birch. White and green marble had been skilfully carved into the likenesses of trees, each bent to form the graceful arch of our city gates.

  Inside a ring of tall, living birch, structures towered above the surrounding treetops. While the elves were unable to fully disguise these buildings as natural formations, their great artistic flair and love of nature was still evident upon them. Finely-wrought latticeworks served as the walls, ushering the outside world into the interior of the buildings. Such was the skill of the craftsmen that these lattices seemed less like handmade artifice and more akin to flowering tendrils and vines that draped the buildings. The roofs of the houses were shaped like flower buds and were made from a yellow material that shone in the sun. Because of the organic nature of the architecture, not one building in Arminath was exactly alike. Flowering shrubs and bushes sweetened the air with scented perfumes, and at the intersection of every street there were bubbling fountains. The city was split in half by the river, which flowed through its heart and irrigated its soil.

  This was my town. My whole life has been dedicated to the elves, with my wealth allowing the realization of my vision for Arminath, much to the satisfaction of its inhabitants. During this time they accumulated ever more wealth and knowledge. Due to my own reforms, science was lifted to a higher level. I introduced the guilds and each masterpiece they manufactured was proof of our artisans’ masterful talents. During that peaceful time we mostly made luxury goods, such as silver brooches or gold bracelets and glittering tiaras. Weavers produced supple fabrics with complicated patterns, which the tailors then fashioned into glorious attire. Even though they severely limited movement, these clothes provided an unparalleled silhouette, and they were designed primarily for the many feasts that made life in Arminath even more pleasant. In everyday life we wore simpler clothing, though no less ornate in detail.

  That is how my future should have been, living without a care in the luxuries Arminath offered. Together, with my beloved, I wanted to enjoy all that I had achieved, while the elves were held in high esteem near and far.

  Unfortunately, I had not foreseen that the many riches I gave to my people had a downside. Arminath was theoretically accessible to everyone, and yet no other race than the elves lived there. Humans only rarely showed themselves in the center, much to the increasing satisfaction of the elves. Our preference for beautifully-crafted items slowly changed into vanity, which made us feel even more superior. We saw the humans as lesser beings, and instead of feeling compassion for them we emphasized our superiority by arrogantly looking down upon them.

  This attitude was not wholly unfounded. The humans that lived in small villages close to our city shamelessly lived like fleas off of our society They greedily collected the items we carelessly threw away, resulting in a blooming trade of castaway elven goods with distant tribes, bringing great wealth for the humans living in the shadow of Arminath.

  I did not see much harm in it, at first. It was a simple form of charity, allowing the humans to create a better existence for themselves, but many of the elves disagreed and despite repeated pleas for more compassion with the humans my words fell upon the ears of the deaf. Of course the humans did not have the means of survival without our people, but more and more elves could not bear their profiteering from an aspect of our society that we would have rather forgotten. Before long, contempt changed to disgust, and nobody bothered to hide it. Whenever a man or a woman dared enter the city, they were avoided on the streets like lepers. We turned our backs on them, and the negative tone was clear when the elves spoke of humans.

  Naturally, the humans reacted in kind. They did not feel inferior to us at all; to them it was a sign that we lacked wisdom while we indulged upon and wasted such riches. In return for our derision, they treated us as we had them. Very soon, villages near Arminath adopted the same sneering tone that marked our speech when dealing with humans. We discredited and slandered each other; every offense met in kind by the opposite faction and were soon embroiled in a downward spiral of prejudice.

  Unfortunately, I seemed to be the only one who noticed the situation as it steadily deteriorated, and as tensions rose, distrust heated to outright hatred. By then, it was too late for anyone to stop it. The elves closed Arminath to the humans and nobody dared venture outside of the city’s birch walls without protection.

  The final spark that ignited the fury within the hearts of the elves was the burning of the richly-embroidered banners that flew outside of the elven council house. While there were no witnesses to the crime, the humans were blamed for this most recent display of hostility.

  Nobody discarded their unwanted goods any more, and the human economy quickly collapsed. It was obvious now that we had been right, that the humans could not survive on their own when they could no longer lean on the crutch of elven society. Their riches quickly evaporated as hunger and poverty spread through the villages. Instead of showing remorse about their condescending attitudes towards the elves, the emptiness in the humans’ stomachs only increased their hatred of our fair race.

  I can only guess at what happened that one night, but it lead us all beyond the point of no return. A few humans had been drinking in one of their many taverns, while in their cups the conversation must have turned more and more often to the elves and their pompous attitudes. I can picture it now: someone taking the floor and stirring up the others with a rousing speech while everyone listened to an ever-increasing list of crimes that were laid at the feet of my people. Perhaps only a few people react to the words at first, when the man was silent long enough to take a swig of ale from his tankard, but by the end of the evening, when the beer had flowed in abundance, the men and women would cry out in agreement, punctuating each sentence spoken by the drunken demagogue with a cheer of their own. As they egged each other on, the accusations grew worse. The atmosphere in the tavern must have bristled with unfounded anger and evil plans.

  Unfortunately, an elvish woman was forced to leave the city that night. To her misfortune, she chanced upon the mob of drunken men. Incited by the talk in the tavern, steeped in alcohol as they were, they ravaged the woman. We found her maimed body the next morning, hanged from one of the new banners decorating the council house.<
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  What the humans had done to her was horrifying. It gave witness to the barbarity of their race, and our smugness felt justified. A group of elves, incensed and in haste, went to the human villages seeking justice and a slake to their thirst for vengeance. They were unkind in their search. Their anger seethed, and in their quest for information they mishandled the humans. For all of their inquisitions, the elves found only grim silence. The culprits were never caught.

  I do not believe the humans approved of what their own men had done to the poor woman, but our own rash acts only made the situation more untenable. The villagers ended up protecting the culprits and part of the blame for the whole mess was put on our doorstep. After all, we had taunted them with our contempt and now we raged violently through their villages. Under the cover of darkness, the humans struck back and Arminath’s isolation increased. Repeated retaliations from both parties fanned the flames of revenge and both races suffered.

  And so things went for a time, until one day the humans decided that the situation could no longer continue. They sent a group of men and women to Arminath to negotiate; these messengers were unarmed and carried with them a white flag. Suspicion and paranoia, however, had taken possession of the elves to such an extent that nobody could or would believe that these men really wanted peace.

  I knew we were about to make a capital mistake, but I was powerless to prevent it. For hours I pleaded to the Senate, but my words came too late and in the end my attempt at reason was in vain. From the tower of the council house the humans were shot down by arrows, before they could even make their motives for the visit known. Of course, this further stirred up the anger that the humans felt towards us and they formed an army. Humans from outlying regions came to aid their brethren who dwelt in the villages. Full of disbelief and indignation, we witnessed the proceedings and hurriedly readied an army of our own. After years of veiled tensions, the siege of Arminath was a fact.

  The bloody war dragged on for more than a year, in which the elves were forced to acknowledge the humans as their superiors. It appeared that I had made another mistake, one which cost our race dearly. Our armors were beautiful, artfully crafted and fluted with designs that declared our superiority to all who chanced to gaze at them, but on my orders the masters of the blacksmith’s guild had spent less and less time refining the key function of any article of war; to protect the bearer and defeat the enemy. Our armor was too thin to effectively protect the wearer, and as we had not waged war in a long time, we had thus neglected to forge new swords. In our arrogance, we presumed that none would dare attack us, the greatest of races. Our old blades proved serviceable, but there were not enough to equip a whole army.

  As time went on, the fighting became more grim. Men were hanged at the gates as a warning to the humans not to enter our city. Elvish women found the heads of their husbands on their doorstep. Even the children of both peoples were not safe from the warring adults. We were less versed in the art of war when compared to the humans, and I am ashamed to admit that we resorted to the use of underhanded and dishonorable techniques. Our victims were mostly humans who were either too sick or too old to properly defend themselves, but their race had left us with little choice.

  More and more people from the surrounding areas started interfering with the war, so that the elves slowly reached the conclusion that we were far outnumbered. It was a lost cause. The only thing we could do was run, leaving the humans behind as victors. They celebrated their victory by destroying our buildings, tearing down our graceful city. From afar, I watched as fire consumed my city. Everything I had lived for was destroyed, reduced to ash and broken husks of its former grandeur. Their own structures seemed to spring forth from the very ground, such was the speed at which their city replaced our own. Only an errant fountain or paved street section remained to indicate that elves had once dwelt in that place.

  Still, the destruction of our race was not complete. The new kings arose, and as is the way of victors in any war, history was rewritten to fit their purpose. Their history depicted my race as diabolical monsters who arrogantly hoarded their wealth and fortunes over a repressed human race. The overturning of such a corrupt society was justice for the many human lives which the elves had destroyed. Conscience and the humans’ own mistakes were conveniently forgotten as the true account of things was buried.

  Our flight left us as nomads, with nowhere to go. When we had left behind the turmoil of battle and the quiet had returned, the shame for our own actions quickly followed. The history written by the humans was spread across the land, and soon, everybody looked down on us. Generations passed, but nobody in our region had forgotten what the elves had done. We stayed hidden, and, contrary to most guilt-stricken elves, I never could forget what had really happened.

  Since then, I have been searching for a way to undo the damage of the past. I did everything I could to secure the future of my people. The road was longer than I had foreseen and I even walked among the people I despise so much. But every sacrifice I made was meant to restore the honor of the elves, because they deserve better than the way they have been treated since the end of the war. For all of those centuries I brooded on my revenge, but—soon now—the fate of the humans will be sealed...

  1

  The gondola rocked as the airship banked right and Lumea saw Omnesia laid out below her. She could clearly see the rectangles that formed the city, with their narrow and dark streets running between them. Even though the lanterns were lit, she couldn’t see anyone moving in the streets.

  The sun had all but disappeared behind the horizon when the bird-like airship hovered over the city. She heard the wooden wings creaking as the captain steered the ship from the helm. A long sigh followed, signaling the air releasing from the balloon, and their altitude decreased. Lumea looked out over the countryside. Somewhere nearby, hidden in the gloomy twilight, there was another city. Omnesia, the gondola’s current destination, was only a brief stopover on Lumea’s journey.

  The gondola’s interior lights came on, and Lumea’s face was suddenly reflected in the window. For a moment she studied her features, pulling back her hair to reveal the tattoo etched on her temple and cheek, with its elegant lines connecting the different symbols. Her clothes covered the golden-hued drawings from her neck down. The airship’s light was weak, but still the tattoo shone as if it were reflecting sunlight. Lumea was proud of the ceremonial decorations. They proclaimed her heritage even though, at times, her faith and culture felt as confining as a straight-jacket. That was her main reason for responding to the letter she had received some months ago.

  The letter had explained that she had been chosen to live in Hydrhaga, which was described as a peaceful land where everyone could live without worry. Lumea felt honored to be chosen and the letter had made her feel special. She had begged her parents to let her go on this journey, and though at first they had not wanted her to go, after a lot of begging and fighting her father had relented. Now, after a long gondola flight, she was finally getting close. Though she knew Hydrhaga was out there, she couldn’t see it anywhere in the twilight that encroached upon the city of Omnesia.

  Hundreds of lights lit up beneath her. A colored platform emerged underneath the ‘Phoenix’ and the ship descended rapidly, accompanied by the tell-tale whistle of released air. A soft thud announced that the airship had landed. Almost immediately, the door opened and two men rolled a staircase from the side of the ship. After that, they helped Lumea descend the stairs. As she stepped onto the ground, whorls of sand clouded her feet and were summarily carried away by an errant gust of wind.

  As she scanned her surroundings, Lumea felt disoriented. The distance to Omnesia had seemed insignificant in the airship, but the reality was that the city still lay an hour distant by foot. She was nervous, for she knew neither the way nor the people in this faraway place. Until now, she had never set foot beyond the countryside that surrounded her village, and most of her life had been spent within the walls of her famil
y’s house.

  The men pointed to a high building and as she hurried towards it, her cape flapped in the wind, which had free reign over the near-empty airport. A small, elderly man in formal dress approached her.

  “Welcome to Omnesia, my lady. My name is Gabe, and I am a coach driver. Is there anywhere I can take you at this late hour?”

  “Thank you, lord Gabe, but I was hoping you could tell me where I might find an inn? I’d rather walk there. I could use some fresh air.”

  “Of course. I know where to find an inn, and if you would like, I’ll tell you how to get there, but I would still advise you to use my coach. The nights here are clear, it gets cold fast, and the city is farther away than you think. A ride isn’t expensive, so if money is a concern, you shouldn’t let that stop you.”

  Lumea hesitated. She would much rather walk, but the man’s words sounded like an honest warning.

  “If you want to walk, it’ll take you about an hour, but I can have you at an inn within ten minutes. Of course, if you still need fresh air by then, you can always take a walk through Omnesia. Most inhabitants don’t step out of their houses at this hour, and the quiet gives the place a special atmosphere.”

  Lumea’s doubts were dispelled, and Gabe opened the coach door for her. He climbed onto the box seat and pulled a lever, which made a cloth roof close silently overhead. Then the man shook the reins. The trip started slowly, but the pace increased quickly as Gabe spurred on his horses and the sand whirled up behind them. Every now and then, the coach shook violently, and Lumea had to hold on tight to the handle on the inside of the door to prevent a tumble through the carriage.

  From the driver’s seat, Gabe yelled his apologies to her, but his words were lost in the rush of wind caused by the speed with which the horses raced. As they arrived into Omnesia’s city limits, they slowed their pace. The houses here were still low, although the farther they went into the city, the buildings grew taller.