The Atlantean port, Arkien, was vast. Essentially, it stretched from the seashore to the old city walls. The mighty fortifications, which had once formed a line of defence, were truly awe-inspiring. The walls were over twenty metres high and nearly eight metres wide, with a gate set in a fortress tower with a hexagonal base, rising several metres above the crown of the fortifications. To top it all off, the entire old fortification was covered in smooth, white stone that seemed almost to glow with the reflected radiance of the Heart of Atlantis. Halfway up the walls, on both sides, an entire pantheon of gods had been carved – from the inside in poses of blessing, whilst on the outside the divine figures looked menacing and ready to pounce on any reckless daredevil who might attempt to scale the walls.
Draco could have sworn that the path running along the outer side of the fortifications had once been a moat, and now merely separated the historic attraction from the townhouses rising a few steps away. Incidentally, it was also curious that no matter which part of Atlantis one was in, it was always bright, as if the light from the levitating crystal were not hindered at all by the stone structures standing in its path.
Further on, Arkien looked rather ordinary – the tenement houses along the main road were well-kept and also served as shops, whilst those further in were less imposing and poorly maintained. The residents were also somewhat different from those in other parts of the city. The streets were full of labourers, porters and merchants shouting orders or calling out to customers. Everyone was in a hurry, everyone was jostling.
At least until they reached the port itself, at the entrance to which they had to leave the carriage and the horses. As usual, the soldiers split up, but this time only one of them remained – it fell on Vi. He seemed to have no objection to this and reluctantly cast a glance at the monstrous crowd surging around them.
James led them on, saying
