by Rajaad
To Cities and Provinces Treatises
Ah, Antara. The very name stirs the blood of adventurers, makes other long for home, and simply perplexes the rest.
Most of us know that Antara was the largest and most liberal of free holdings the world has ever known. Since its founding about four hundred years ago (it was the first settlement in the New World), it has served as the seat of political power and the home of the Niall royal line.
Antara was born as a small port town, primarily self-sufficient, and was the home of Saranda Niall and his family. From the beginning it was a place of freedom and opportunity, and settlers came from distant provinces to enjoy that freedom. Here was a place where the average person could, through hard work, adventuring, or luck, win their fortune.
But soon danger threatened from the north in the form of Maelmuirian attackers, and Rilhaven was founded to protect Antara from the northern ravagers.
Antara grew. Her lack of strict laws and mores attracted diverse elements, especially magical practitioners, who were restricted elsewhere. Antara’s moral standing was not approved of by other rulers, who did all in their power to ban trade with the city, but Antara’s enticements were too alluring. Ample twylahs, seemingly endless wealth (much of it magically created), and friendly citizens lured merchants who, covertly if necessary (and it often was), came to do trade.
The small town was shaped by magic and gold into a vast and sprawling city. Two hundred years after its founding, Antara was the world’s most populous city. Winding streets were lit at night by magical lights, shoppes fairly spilled outward with exotic goods, and magic was freely practiced and sold. One of Antara’s greatest draws was the Games of Antara, where warriors would battle magical beasts, mages would duel, and criminals would fight for their lives against brutal odds. Huge crowds filled the tiers, shouting with rage or delight, as men fell, bleeding, in the packed dirt.
With its vast magical forces and impossible wealth, Antara became a world power that no one could defy.
And then, about fifty years ago, it all began.
By that time magic was far out of control. One could not take anything for granted in Antara. Illusory coin was passed as often as real, people were living far beyond their rightful ages, and most residents of Antara possessed enough wealth to make a king blush. But it was all owed to magic. And those who did not practice magic, or know someone who did, were often victims of the other extreme, for beggars abounded, and those who attempted to make a living for themselves by honest means invariably fell to those willing to use magic immorally. Furthermore, mage battles were growing commonplace as people vied for power, and the streets were often alight with flame or sheering bolts of lightning. People would shift the weather to their own desires, so that it might be raining on Nymph Street and dry and hot on Turtle Avenue. Traders began to avoid Antara’s docks, for the magicians were growing more and more demanding, and distrust seemed rampant.
And slowly, the magic began to slip. Spells at first began to work better, and the magicians only redoubled their abuses. Then the spells began to change slightly, so that the effects of spells became . . . unpredictable. It was as if the magic was taking on a life of its own, for soon things were happening – unexplainable things, and they could not be traced to any mage’s or majae’s doings. One day a shoppe had inexplicably disappeared. The next night an eerie green glow would light the sky. And the day after that, illusory dragons would rampage through the city streets, passing ghostlike through buildings.
Councils were held. Studies were done. And it was decided that the magic had to somehow be controlled once again.
It was determined that the high concentration of magic use over such a long period had ‘soaked’ the area in magical energy. There was now such a thick concentration that the magic was being shaped by unlikely forces, such as stray thoughts or nocturnal dreams. Indeed, combined with the thousands of minds in Antara, the magic was taking on a life of its own.
Before long it became dangerous. Sometimes people would simply disappear. Strange, incurable illnesses would suddenly emerge. Magic would work, fail, backfire, or twist to bizarre effects, all with equal likelihood. And weird creatures, half-real, began to haunt the city, some enticing, some dangerous, some cruel.
Many efforts were made to bring the magic under control, but the population of Antara swiftly dwindled. And then, a year before the founding of Aranor, Lord Niall ordered a complete evacuation of the city.
His order was timely, for a darkness was spreading rapidly through the city, and howling storms of magic began to swirl through the streets at night, bringing the most improbable effects. Nothing could be depended upon. Nothing was real.
The fleeing citizens say that the city was haunted, that the magic had become alive, that the city itself was alive, and ready to devour any humans in its clutches.
The Antarans fled throughout the world – many of them became the first settlers of Aranor, accounting for Aranor’s rapid growth. Few have dared return to their homes.
Those who have tried say different things. Some say that animals now roam the streets. Others say fae. And still others Eldritch. But the one thing they agree upon is that the walls of the city harbor a strange power best left alone, for none have managed to walk more than a few hundred paces into the city before they are driven out by odd, potent magics.
"I was stepping on cobblestone one moment, and upon the forest floor the next. When I finally found a city, I discovered that I had been transported to Jedda," says one explorer.
Another woman tells – "I was not ten paces into the northern gate, my eyes bewildered by the richness of the goods still present inside the shoppes, when I was beset by hoards of . . . butterflies. They choked me by flying into my mouth, and obscured my vision – I was barely able to stumble outside."
"I camped outside the walls," says a third man, an old adventurer. "That night, I saw strange lights in the city, and heard eerie, piercing screams. They seemed to be calling my name. I left the next day."
Only a few examples of what has occurred.
No one yet knows exactly what happened in Antara, or if the haunting will ever cease. Docks have been built on the shores to the west of the city, and serve to moor ships wishing to do trade with Rilhaven. But all attempts to settle in the area have failed, for the haunting seems to move outward, beyond the walls, to affect any who attempt to make their home nearby.
So Antara remains a lonely, desolate place, still possessing untold riches and unspoken mysteries. Perhaps it always will.
To Cities and Provinces Treatises