Shadows of Atlantis Part One: Awakening

Chapter 5

5

City fair, thou spires behold!

Thy mystic beauty thusly told.

Stories cannot count the pages of its glorious site;

Shining like a million shards of sunlight in the night.

~*~

An ominous cloud hovered over the city of Poseidia. People on the Grand Esplanade barely exchanged words. They all seemed trapped in a daze. A deep fear had come to the people in the night, though none could be sure why. No information had been shared across VC waves, which distributed news through the Grid. Every district of the city featured a VC courtyard where citizens gathered to watch the viewer-crystals for broadcasts. So far this day, no one appeared to explain why this mysterious fear had washed over the city.

It was a humid morning. Heavy heat blanketed the entourage, who were covered with tiny beads of sweat. They turned onto the Grand Esplanade and hovered toward the great brass wall marking the first ring of the citadel, which still loomed in the distance.

Beholding in awe Poseidia’s open-air patios, Brigitte peeked out of the fabric of the carriage, and turned her face upward. Dwellings were built one on top of the other, terraced at an angle, reaching toward the sky in tribute to the stars. Their bases framed the streets. Crystal and stone architecture shone in the light of late morning. Creeping vines and draping flowers wrapped the city’s curving minarets into Sophaiya’s pulsing life force. The intricate masonry was made mostly of white, black, and red stone, quarried from the native lands. Columns supported arched bridges reaching across the streets, connecting higher levels of passage. Brigitte was consumed by the city’s intricacy.

She slowly plucked the thorns from the rose’s green stem, tossing them from the curtains as if to leave a trail for D’Vinid to follow. Lukias and Allondriss were her comfort. The warriors enclosed the carriage in a tight formation. On the road mound they moved past crowds of sluggish, perfumed citizens. Atlanteans were generally dressed in multicolored fitted garments with colorful sashes and sandals. Women wore fitted dresses with fabric draped over their arms. Men wore short vests or light tunics and took to tying sashes around their waists over baggy pants which fell mid-calf. Most of their skins glistened with an oily sheen. Many donned intricate jewels such as necklaces, arm cuffs and headbands. Most carried a double waist satchel, held by leather straps crossed at the back to balance the weight of goods, or hover discs in their retracted state. Some had unnaturally jet-black hair, and she wondered if the blackness was artificial, having learned how city dwellers changed their appearance to be alike.

The road was shaded by tree branches and elegant hanging vines. Sparkling banners mingled with the leaves and balconies above. Ocean breezes kept the city’s host of fluttering colors in constant motion. Pollen floated through the air, pervading the sky with white, puffy dots floating in every direction.

Exotic, colorful birds sang in the trees. One walked along the ground, shining an iridescent blue, its brilliant tail fanning out in an array of fantastic color. Some of the people leashed dogs or lambs covered in fleece, ranging in all hues from bright white to black. Cats of all shapes and sizes could be seen everywhere, lounging in high places or creeping low to the ground. Horses were a popular pack animal, used for transportation when a hover-craft was not present. The islands were known as a natural habitat for elephants in Atlantis’s earlier ages, and so the occasional beast could be seen along the road, decorated with fringed blankets.

Brigitte felt increasingly intoxicated from the floral fragrances.

Sandwiched between busy esplanades, the entry channel, flanked by the Grand Esplanade, was the main passageway through the Outlands of the citadel. Bridged occasionally by shining overpasses and aqueducts, it was populated with ships whose tall mainsails could easily pass beneath the massive structures. Flocks of birds floated in rippling waters, mere specks illustrating the canal’s width.