Looking upon the city
of Sendsel from afar on the cliffs, it would appear the rocky outcrops are
somehow miraculously floating on the surface of the sea, bridges strung
about to keep the many sections from drifting apart. You reach Sendsel by
small wooden boat. It is the only way inhabitants and visitors can cross from
land to the city, to swim it would be too far, and larger boats would catch and
hulls be breached on the city's foundations just below the water level. Once
rowing out to see, looking down to the water below, it now seems as though how
the city has come to be completely juxtaposes as it seemed before, as if,
instead of floating, the entire mass is sunk into the sea, to be inhabited by
fish, with only the very tips breaching the ocean waves. However, neither of
these situations are true. The city you see below is the city that has not yet
been inhabited, the city that will one day rise up out of the ocean as
the current structures have, pushed up from below by the
ever growing tremendous coral reef that lines the ocean bed, to be carved
and hollowed into the new buildings of Sendsel.
You alight
on one of the smaller coral islands that serves as a dock for
the boats from the mainland. A nearby dock-man hurries over to
help tether the rope to one of the many dry rocky outcrops that run the
edge of the platform, hewn from the long ago calcified colossal
creature. The city ahead of you is chalky and matte, but its brightness still
strains the eye and you wince at the light bouncing from the coral forms and
its reflection glinting in the crystal water. The once vibrant colours of the
reef now light and pastel, bleached by the sun over the years of standing proud
of the nourishing seawater.
The city's
mass is comprised of many coral outcrops, breaching the surface of the water
for miles around, each one differing in spread and height to the next, and all
interlinked by networks of roads and bridges, some held up on struts built upon
the rocky foundations not far below the surface, others hewn from arms of inter
crossing corals, with driftwood and seaweed suspension bridges creating
pathways in the higher levels of the city, precariously strapped and tacked
into the hollow structures.
The city is
packed, busy and bustling. From afar the
quick, scurrying movements of the inhabitants trying to avoid the burning
glare, dipping in and out of the shadows, create illusions in
their brightly coloured clothes, as is the fashion, of the fish
that once inhabited the coral years ago, meters below. The inhabitants are
rarely seen in entirety, as despite dressing brightly, this is to bring
colour to their faded city, they themselves however prefer to stay out of the
light, preserving their pale skin from the scorching suns' glare and heat.
You descend
into the city of coral husks, the buildings growing larger and more close knit
the further you go. Every inch of the exposed calcium carbonate skeleton of
the miniature creatures that built it is put to some use or another,
buildings in all shapes and sizes, towering pillars of off-white in the
midday sun. On the larger islands buildings are stacked high one atop the other, different
forms flaring out and fighting for space. The sea level streets are thin and
winding, shadows are thankfully cast in most places, even in the height of the
day, shielded from the burning sun by the great splays of flat growing
coral that now serve as high above walkways, balconies and roofs. The
buildings are created from these rocky forms through
the chiselling of doorways and windows into the thick coral
exoskeleton. It is not uncommon to see a new doorway or pathway being hewn into
the side of a structure by a troupe of workmen, Sendsel is constantly evolving,
the inhabitants endeavouring to find new ways to get around the
multi-levelled city more efficiently, creating a mass of interweaving pathways
across the levels. Sometimes spiral staircases line the
outside of columns too thin to be hollows for houses, with driftwood banisters
to keep the unwary from falling in some cases many storeys down to the hard
rock below. Despite their obvious skill with a pickaxe and
chisel, decorative stone carving work is uncommon in Sendsel. The inhabitants
are unwilling to exert themselves too strenuously in the heat of day for a work
they know will be worn away by the constant battering of the elements, heavy
rain downpours, when they come, wind and waves. Because of this the windows of
most buildings are small and square, with driftwood shutters to keep out the
sun in the day and protect from the harshness of the elements in the case of a
tropical storm, when large waves come crashing down on the thankfully sound
city, and anything not protected within the strong, rocky city walls or firmly
secured is washed away to sea. This however starkly juxtaposes the curving,
natural shapes of many of the buildings, the only clue as to them once
being very much alive, despite appearing as no more than rock now.
The
inhabitants of Sendsel put to use any and all materials they collect and
scavenge from the ocean and that wash up at the edges of the city. The
marketplace stalls boast roofs of large clam shells, dredged from the
ocean floor in search of pearls and other treasures. Driftwood and dried, woven
seaweed are staple building materials used throughout the city,
forming all kinds of items, from the slats and ropes of the bridges stretched
between buildings high above, to the woven baskets of shrimp and small fish
being sold in the marketplace. Lamps made of dried "mermaid
purses", shark eggs, and puffer fish are dotted all around the city,
providing light in the shadows where the moon cannot reach at night. They hang
from roofs and are strung along the bridges and the smaller, more decorative
coral columns, sometimes fondly referred to as trees by the locals,
due to the clusters of dried mussel shells adorning their tops, like dark,
petrified leaves. Occasionally you will see small, brightly coloured
flowers brought over from the mainland blooming in the hollow vessels of the
huge barnacles that encrust large areas of the city. These are not only bought
here for their colour in this stark city, but also for their fragrance, the
efforts of the inhabitants wishing to muffle the overpowering smell of
salt and fish, unavoidable almost due to the thin crumbling sodium chloride
crust covering nearly every surface, always brought back through evaporation of
the ocean spray.
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