City of Illusions

by Kim ten Tusscher

  Following her example, Elion had also found a group of students to whom he taught the basics of the bow. Now it was Lumea’s turn to watch while she sharpened her sword. With controlled, even strokes, she drew the whetstone she had found in the guard’s room over the edge of the blade. Elion gave a woman some instructions on how to hold her arms, then he came over to sit next to Lumea.

  “Why did your parents allow you to fight? That doesn’t really fit with the things you have told me about them.”

  “That’s right, but my father didn’t have a problem with my learning, and he knew how much I wanted it. Luckily, Master Archivald didn’t mind teaching a woman. I believe that he was even proud of me, sometimes.”

  “If he could see you here, he most certainly would be.”

  Lumea nodded. “I think he understood how much I wanted to learn. What more could a master want than an eager pupil? My brothers just did what he told them to do, but I went beyond that. At the end of the lessons my brothers would leave the room, almost relieved for it to be over, but I stayed to practice that one move until I really got the hang of it. At first I did it alone, but it wasn’t long before Archivald stayed as well to help improve my mastery over the weapon.”

  Elion called something to one of the archers, making Lumea look up.

  “What attracted you to it so much in the first place?” he asked.

  “I loved watching Master Archivald. There was so much raw power in the way he handled his sword. But most of all, it was the control of the weapon that attracted me, and the peace that comes from that kind of control. Once I realized I had achieved that, I was so proud of myself.

  “But the biggest acknowledgment that I received from Master Archivald was when he gave me my own sword. That was after my Ankéabi. It looked a little like the one I have here, though this one is nowhere near as nice. It was made especially for me, and it bears an inscription that gives me strength. If only I had it with me here, I would be even stronger.”

  She took a bit of sandpaper and wet it. Elion watched as she concentrated on her fingers gliding along the edge of the sword. He held his tongue, as he did not want to interrupt her concentration. Then she checked the blade’s edge with her thumb and noted with a satisfied tone in her voice, “Since I don’t have it here, this one will do just fine.”

  Thanks to the time in the cell wing the group was well-prepared for the upcoming battle, but it was Siard who gave them the biggest advantage for the fight. He had spent his time examining the robot which they had found, and he had discovered the one flaw that the researchers had left in its design, in spite of all of their improvements. There was a place in the back of the creature’s neck where the transmitter was located, and it was ill-protected. The scientists had never taken the trouble of reinforcing that spot because they assumed that the creatures were invincible, and that the Omnesians would never attack them from behind

  Aeron had often gathered the Omnesians and together they had figured out how to combine their respective skills into an effective force. When Lumea joined the group, Aeron was building a large kite. Just like back when Hydrhaga was still peaceful, she helped him by holding the different parts of it while he worked. He then looked around in deep thought, and then mumbled, “Now for something to make the wings.”

  “What are you looking for then, paper? Like for the kite you made for me?”

  Aeron beamed at the memory.

  “Yes, or some similar kind of fabric. Light but strong. The kite itself will be pretty heavy already.”

  Lumea thought for a minute, before saying: “Do you think my skirt could help? The upper layer is made of silk, and you could use that.”

  Aeron touched the silk and tugged it once.

  “Yes, that’s perfect! If you don’t mind...”

  Lumea was already tearing the silk from her skirt. It was this layer that had been painted with the depiction of birds, and Aeron looked at what was left of the dress.

  “It doesn’t suit you, a plain dress. It’s too boring for someone as vibrant as you.”

  Lumea smiled. “Never mind that now. Just make a good kite out of it.”

  “Oh, I’m planning to. This is going to be another eagle! I’m going to use the fabric’s patterns to make him seem really alive. You’ll be present in more than one place during the battle, Lumea. This might prove to be a deciding factor!”

  Though Lumea assumed that he was talking about the mysterious thing he and Siard were making, his comment made her blush. “How are you going to make it fly? I assume there won’t be any wind...”

  Siard came into the room just as she asked her question, his arms full of things he put on the table. He proudly held up one of the transmitters that the Hosts used as communicators.

  “We’re going to build a motor into it that will be steered from a distance,” he explained, almost casually.

  Lumea shook her head, not believing her ears. Elion joined them as well and picked up one of the objects that Siard had been working on. It was light and small, no bigger than his thumb, with small wings and a pointed head. Elion turned it over between his fingers while Aeron and Siard looked at each other, full of mirth.

  “So what is it that you’re making exactly?” Elion said.

  Siard’s response was mysterious. “You’ll find out in due time. I could explain, but you would understand it about as well as you did the submarine. Rest assured, it will work,” he said.

  Elion shrugged and turned around, which made the two men laugh all the harder. Lumea took up Elion’s question, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not get an answer out of either of them. In the meantime, Aeron had started painting the bird, and Lumea looked on in admiration as the small brush strokes made the kite more and more beautiful. Grayish-blue lines emphasized the feathers on its head, and with a small white dot in its black eyes, the eagle really came to life.

  With the refugees engaged in various occupations, the time was spent until most people were healed enough to go into battle. Elion looked at the group sitting around him, until his eye fell on an elderly man.

  “Gentil, I’m going to ask you to stay here. We can’t leave the people who are still not fully recovered without someone to take care of them. Do you agree?”

  The man’s initial reaction was one of relief, and after some thought he accepted the task, though with mixed feelings. “I will do what you ask of me, though I feel a deep-seated need to take revenge on these Hosts.”

  Elion nodded. “I understand how you feel, but you’re not strong enough yet to take them on. Plus, I want someone here who knows what to do if the enemy should discover this place.”

  Then he addressed the whole group. “Is there anyone who will volunteer to undertake the journey to Omnesia? I don’t know what it’s like out there, but the last time we were outside the weather seemed to be calming down. I also don’t know if there are any Swintheri or Hosts left out there guarding Hydrhaga. I think the best way would be through the woods, as there’s no wall left there to stop you.”

  The people looked around, trying to decide where their best chances lay. Fighting against the Thurancs was scary, but they had no idea how they would fare outside, on their own. In the end, one man stood up to take this task upon his shoulders. He would leave two hours after the others. Elion gave the man a sword, so that he could defend himself should it become necessary.

  The other weapons that they had scavenged were divided amongst their small army. Despite Lumea’s lessons, the women looked decidedly uncomfortable with swords in their hands. One woman’s hands were visibly shaking when Siard handed her a weapon. The feel of the cold steel against her skin had made her realize just how close the battle really was. Siard put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “Elvire, you’re not in this alone. You’re fighting for something that you believe in.”

  Elvire nodded at Siard. Her hands stopped shaking. She still bit her lip, which turned white under the pressure, but at least she now had a decisive look in her eye
s.

  Lumea felt bad for the women, but she did not want to show her own fear to the group, so she quickly walked to a small room. Everywhere there was evidence of the activities from the last couple of days, but now the place was deserted of people. Elion followed her and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around.

  “This might be the last time before the battle that we really have a chance to talk,” he said.

  Lumea nodded tensely.

  “I often treated you worse than you deserved, Lumea, and though I do not deserve it, I hope you will remember me in a good light.”

  She shook her head and said softly, “Please don’t say goodbye, Elion. If you do that, I won’t be able to fight.”

  He looked at her with a smile. “You’re right. And, you know, I prayed to the gods to give us strength.”

  “You prayed?” Lumea was surprised. She had not forgotten the way he had reacted when she had told him to have faith in the gods.

  “You have taught me many things, my Lady Lumea, more than I have been willing to admit.”

  She laughed aloud when she heard the title that he had given her on one of their first meetings. She felt proud when she heard his next words.

  He said, “The first time that I really prayed again was that night in the snow, when I thought I had lost you, and we found you again. But, because of all the anger I had inside of me, I refused to admit it later. Only when you told me about your vision did I really start trusting in the gods again. I don’t have a choice. They threw you in my path, and I have to be grateful for that. At this moment, I honestly feel like they’re standing by me.”

  He pulled her close to him and held her silently. Lumea hid her face in his clothes and held onto him. After a while she reluctantly let go.

  “I’m glad I met you in Omnesia and asked you to guide me here,” she said.

  “Are you, really? Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have stopped you. I thought it might be dangerous, so it wasn’t fair to use you for my own ends.”

  Lumea’s eyes danced as she smiled. “Don’t blame yourself. Everyone told me not to go to Hydrhaga. What makes you think that you’re so special that you would have succeeded where they failed?”

  Elion laughed. “Fair enough, but I still should have told you about the danger and given you the choice.”

  “You’re probably right, but I don’t blame you for it.”

  Elion hugged her again, before they walked back to the others. During their last, tense meal, nobody spoke a word.

  26

  “I don’t care how much time has passed; I will never forget what the humans did to my people.”

  Gîsal looked off to the side. Ward tried to appear as if he were sleeping, but the elf knew better. He knew that the man had woken up as soon as he had entered the room, because for just a second he had held his breath. He decided to let the Host think he had been fooled.

  “I experienced everything from up close. The war was pretty bloody, but I guess both sides were to blame for that. I can tell you this, though: I tried to calm the elves down. For hours on end I talked to the other senators, trying to convince them to receive the delegates from the human villages, but they refused to listen. Their thirst for human blood could not be slaked, and my pleas for tolerance fell upon deaf ears. The elves shot my words down without mercy.”

  His voice was cool as he spoke of the events during the war, but it changed until it almost sounded remorseful.

  “I blame myself for what happened too, you know. I never foresaw that my riches, and what they brought to the people, would have such an effect, but in hindsight they were responsible for much of the suffering. Now the time has come to put everything right, however.” Then he became furious again.

  “But they had no right to kill her! The worst thing about the whole affair is that after it was all over, they dragged her and all of elvendom through the mud. The human kings did everything in their power to give us a bad name. And of all the human cities, Omnesia is the most responsible for the persecution of the elves. It was because of that city that my people were all but slaughtered, and those that survived went from a wise and well-respected people to pariahs of society.”

  Gîsal grabbed Ward’s shoulder and shook it until the man opened his eyes. He wanted him to see the pain, so that this human would understand why the old elf had become what he was now.

  Gîsal had not stood by idly, watching his people being trampled. He had sworn to take revenge, for his family and for his people, who deserved better than they received. For all those long years, he kept that revenge firmly in mind, all because those humans had destroyed his world, everything he stood for and everything he believed in.

  “It took decades, no centuries, to build up Arminath. I devoted my life to it. It took the humans nineteen months to destroy it all.”

  The look he directed at Ward was bitter. He stood up and started pacing.

  “You might think this war has long been over, but that’s not true. It’s still raging, though in silence now. I saw how the humans treated the elves, and I know how my people live now. I’ve seen the slums. It saddens me to see how a race that used to build such wonderful things is now forced to live in decrepit old houses at the edge of civilization. They barely survive, and despite the hard work that they do, they are shown no gratitude. It’s a shameful way to live.”

  He looked at the man on the bed again. “Do you understand that? The war is not over, yet! The elves are desperately trying to improve their lives. There are regular meetings with song and dance and poetry, but they’re nothing like the feasts that we used to organize. The wind blows the sand out of the desert and into the houses of the elves. The women try to clean it, they move tons of sand back into the desert and try to hide the rest, to best forget the conditions in which they now live. But the next day, all the sand that they have dumped outside of the city gets blown back into the quarter. Vermin come out every night and crawl through the streets in search of something edible. My people are living beneath their dignity. They are ashamed of the heritage that they should be so proud of, so they hide their identities. But not for much longer, now!”

  Gîsal recalled the sacrifices he’d had to make to reach his goals. Abducting Omnesians had never overburdened his conscience. On the contrary, using them for his experiments had let him taste a small measure of the revenge for which he longed. Some of the humans had allowed him to gain power over them, and they had become workers and Hosts. After a long time of toil beneath him, they had stopped doubting him.

  He sat down again and smoothed back the hair out of Ward’s face. Then he put his hand on the man’s shoulder and left it there. “Do you want to know why I chose you as a Host, Ward?”

  Ward hesitantly shook his head, afraid of getting the brunt of the leader’s anger.

  “You were afraid of me. I could see it in your eyes, Ward. It was the same kind of fear that I can see inside you now. You were afraid, and because you thought I recognized your talents you became loyal. Don’t worry about that, though, that is how I picked all of my Hosts.”

  Gîsal laughed at the shocked expression on Ward’s face. Then he continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “But the truth is, I never felt anything but contempt for all of you. You are fools, you lot. You sold your soul to me, and you thought you were safe. You were so fond of the luxuries I offered that you did not ask any questions, and just danced to my tune.”

  Each of the Hosts was the kind of man that enjoyed the power that Gîsal gave them. He had left the daily governing of Hydrhaga to them, without much interference. Ward’s hair had fallen back into his face and Gîsal smoothed it back again.

  “You didn’t really serve any purpose. You were always replaceable, just like any of the others. But the knots that you tied yourselves into to meet my expectations were... amusing. For a while, at least. I always knew the day would come that you would have outlived your usefulness.”

  With that, he left the room, leaving Ward filled with confusion
yet again. Soon, the Host would be sacrificed to its creation, but not yet. For a moment the elf thought of the other sacrifice he’d had to make, the deception and torture of his kin. He had needed their strength to reach his goals, and they had helped him to protect Hydrhaga. Their suffering had been a necessary evil, and after all, his revenge would be in their name as well. They were casualties of war, but Gîsal was convinced that his cause was the right one.

  He salved his conscience with the thought that, if they had known what he was planning, they would agree with him. He refused to admit to himself that if that were the case, he could have told them instead of deceiving them. He quickly walked towards the huge hall where the workers were completing his army, banning all thoughts of elves from his mind, refusing to think of the core, the power plant that had once kept his wall intact, a place which he had avoided at all cost.

  The Thurancs were slowly being completed, and the army grew every day. Gîsal followed the preparations with a satisfied smile. He had waited to march on Omnesia for so long, and now, it was almost time.

  27

  The group of men and women, led by Elion, climbed the stairs. There was nothing more for them to do on the floor where they had trained and recovered for so long. They slowly approached the closed-off center of the building. They reached a curved hallway, which seemed out of place given all of the straight ones they had passed.

  According to Siard, this meant that they had reached the center of the building, around which this hallway ran in a ring. The group of fighters carefully went along the corridor, searching for a door, or any other means of entry. They were all surprised when they returned to the very place where they had entered the hallway without finding any entrances. The wall seemed to be built entirely out of metal plates that gave off a soft glow in the half-light. The plates were decorated with symbols and scenes in relief, with some symbols thicker than others.