The Souls in Sectum – Chapter XI – Civitas Permacolae
Zanda glided through the air and landed her merkabah on the upper half of the structure, where an outdoor park bisected the floor. Gia detached from Zanda’s right arm, reshaping into a cuboctahedron that floated behind its owner. The woman felt the gaze of several onlookers drawn to her landing. Her new merkabah turned out to be a magnet for indiscreet stares.
The misty ground beneath her feet reminded her of orange soda, the surrounding green areas vast and well-maintained. Nearby, Huon pines were arranged in a pattern reminiscent of the flower of life.
Ignoring the stares of people who paused to watch her, Zanda walked towards the open space, venturing into a trail where the foliage thickened and gardens sprawled extensively.
Minutes later, she found a wall made of nephrite so polished it mirrored everything around it.
"Looking cool, huh?" Gia floated alongside her.
She cracked a smile as her T.H.I.C. dissolved into the crimson Armis enveloping her. Chromatic red chunks of hair danced in her natural brown hair, casting a glow on her shoulders. She passed through the crystal wall and her reflection, entering the building.
Inside, the atmosphere was cooler, her merkabah adjusting to maintain the warmth of her body. Ahead, a hallway stretched out, its rhomboid shape clean and straightforward, bathed in soft orange and green light that filtered through the ceiling. Crossing it, Zanda arrived at a larger space, a somewhat crowded room. Colorfully dressed individuals with cottophene and silkaphene attires moved across, too absorbed in their own worlds to notice her.
"Gia, has Refius responded yet?"
"No, he hasn’t seen the message."
"What’s the fastest way to the research labs?"
She was up to something.
Gia projected the route onto the crystascreen of T.H.I.C before her eyes. Zanda proceeded to a roofless hall, where a series of translucent crystal platforms known as levitators, much smaller than the fishtanks, ferried people back and forth, connecting the various levels of the vast station.
She stepped onto an orange platform, her kabbalah taking control, navigating through the spacious citadel. The brief journey allowed her to marvel at the architectural feat of that Civitas Permacolae. The platform rotated on its axis, offering Zanda a 360-degree view as hundreds of Porters led to myriad destinations across Malkuth.
The Porterum, a collaboration between Binah and Tipharet with Chokmah conceptualizing it, was a superstructure that radiated joy and pride, the essence of those three Sephirah unified in creation.
At the structure’s pinnacle, the flag of Malkuth waved, a piece of white fabric emblazoned with a Metatron’s Cube superposed to a silhouette of the world’s continents in gold at the center, surrounded by thousands of silver dots representing the stars in the visible sky.
Upon landing, Zanda stepped off the translucent platform, blending with the other Malkuthians, following her T.H.I.C.’s guidance.
"There’s no point in going to my office. I knew where you were, Zan. Why didn’t you just call?" A familiar voice reached her ears, one she hadn't heard in years.
Turning, she saw her childhood best friend standing next to a floating green dodecahedron, her own kabbalah. Naydir was tall, her hair a vibrant tapestry of dreadlocks in various colors, adorned in dark purple garments marked with the symbol of her Sephirah, giving her an official air.
Zanda couldn’t conceal her excitement. Her naadi exploded in gold tones as Naydir sprinted towards her. They embraced tightly, a hug filled with longing, history, and love, their naadis emitting the same color.
"Naydir! I was going to surprise you…"
"Nice try. But no. As soon as your merkabah crossed the Vis field around Civitas, I knew you were here. You failed, my beautiful, amazing friend, now a Gevurah! I’m so proud of you," Naydir’s eyes mirrored her emotions.
A tear slipped from Zanda’s eye as the embrace ended, their naadis blending into a shade of gold with blue topaz, reflecting their deep affection and familiarity between their souls.
"It’s been six years!" Naydir used her thumb to wipe away her friend’s tears.
Those beautiful brown eyes with long lashes smiled back, the multicolored eyeshadow matching her dreadlocks. "Closer to seven! I left a year and eight months before you," Naydir corrected, recalling their last encounter before her departure from Kosovo.
"Luti! It’s been a while, how did your slacker performed since the last time we saw each other? Could you make a comparison of our statistics?" Zanda greeted her friend's kabbalah to honor their previous tradition to compete against each other, thriving for excellence.
"It’s wonderful to see you well, Zan. If Naydir agrees, we can share the data and see where you have improved or slacked in comparison to each other."
"You and Gia catching up already? I’m down for it, what do you say, Nay?"
Her friend gestured with both shoulders in a carefree
"Exchanging data as we speak."
The two kabbalahs danced around each other.
"I love what you’ve done with your hair," Zanda reminisced about Naydir’s dream of dreadlocks with that style from their childhood.
"These things?" Naydir grasped a braid, feigning indifference. "Had it like this for two years, my soul. After graduating from Uvelia. You won’t see it again after today, late arrival…" she said with a smirk, clearly ready for a change. "I see your red chunks of hair, they match your merkabah, smooth crys!"
“Thank you, is brand new! Not the hair though, that’s old too. I guess It’s time for new hair styles! Oh, Naydir, I’ve missed you so much! When I emerged from Asporto, Gia told me you've become an amazing Tipharet! Look at you, working at the Porterum in a Civitas Permacolae. In just two years. I'm so proud!" Zanda’s voice brimmed with excitement.
"Thank you too…" Naydir took her hand. "Come with me, it’s been a while indeed."
They walked away from the levitators, both suppressing her naadi.
"It took me fifteen months to get here. After my Ceremonia, I took an eight-month sabbatical to Vietnam to study applied hydroponics and, well, enjoy time with the locals. It was fun."
They had met eighteen years ago, when they were five and seven years old. Zanda, the elder, noticed that the vibe emanating from Naydir was different from what she remembered as children. Back then, Naydir had seemed timid and unsure of her potential; now, she exuded self-confidence, navigating the Porterum as if it were her own domain.
The hall they walked through was carved from crocoite, like the rest of the Stagnum, but it was adorned with additional materials, patterns, and textures. Suspended glass platforms displayed various objects of historical significance, ranging from hundreds to millions of years old—tools, garments, samples of flora and fauna, literature, art, and remains, all restored to their original condition using replicant biotechnological techniques.
Naydir led Zanda through a series of passages branching off from the main hall.
"So, you're in charge of some important operation here, right?" Zanda broached, initiating what felt like an interrogation.
"You never did care much for details, huh?" Naydir teased.
"I do. That's why I'm asking. It’s been so long. Imagine, hearing it like it was for the first time will have more impact."
"Did you forget about my yearly letters?" Naydir's voice tinged with sadness.
"What?" The gevurah was puzzled.
"The letters I sent you," Naydir was annoyed, as though that subject was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What are you talking about? I received no letters from you...!"
"You replied!" Naydir cut her off, and exasperated, displayed a holographic image of a letter with an unfamiliar handwriting:
“I feel the same,” Z.
"That wasn't me, Nay. Did you even check the source?" Zanda was bewildered.
"So presumptuous!" Her friend refused to believe her.
"You think I'd neglect to catch up with you? Ha!"
"Why are you laughing? You ignored me," Naydir seemed truly upset.
"Hey! I didn’t know any of this. That's why it's funny; those weren't my replies. Gevuritah can't read any messages. We’re not supposed to; it’s against Asporto's rules. For the past five years, my only contacts have been with the Gevurah and my classmates. I haven’t even seen my parents! Don’t blame me for this, Naydir!" Zanda explanation had evident frustration evident in her voice, unprepared for such an outburst from the Tipharet.
Naydir's expression softened from confusion to a less hostile demeanor.
"I'll quench your thirst for knowledge. Don't worry. How could I have known?" She pondered aloud, not waiting for a response. "Who received them and replied in my stead?"
The thought of someone intercepting her correspondence for nefarious reasons sent a shiver down Naydir's spine.
"Could it have been another Z, by mistake?" Zanda speculated.
"On the Ethernet? Only if I'd been sending to the wrong address for five years..."
"It's not too far-fetched to imagine that could happen."
Zanda’s reasoning came half-expecting a rebuttal that never came.
"You owe me a narration about your role in all this..." Naydir attempted to refocus the conversation. "I wasn't upset about those replies, by the way; it was a little tease that turned into quite the puzzle, they’re from Refius, your mentor. Let’s enjoy our walk. We're about to reach my studio." Patience was something Zanda struggled with, but she made an effort, placing the idea of her mentor responding for her on the side for a moment.
A minute later, they stood before a peridot entrance set in the center of a citrine wall.
Naydir approached the glowing entrance and gestured Zanda, giving her access to the studio through the green stone, which dissolved around her as she crossed through it.
****
That's it for Chapter XI!
If you enjoyed it, please consider supporting A Tree of Omens!
Follow, share, leave a comment or review, either works.
As a reminder, Patreon is up and running with 26+ Chapters ahead of SH release.
Thank you for your time and see you along the road!
Aequitas and much love,
Indigo Sapiens.
The Souls in Sectum – Chapter XI – Civitas Permacolae
Zanda glided through the air and landed her merkabah on the upper half of the structure, where an outdoor park bisected the floor. Gia detached from Zanda’s right arm, reshaping into a cuboctahedron that floated behind its owner. The woman felt the gaze of several onlookers drawn to her landing. Her new merkabah turned out to be a magnet for indiscreet stares.
The misty ground beneath her feet reminded her of orange soda, the surrounding green areas vast and well-maintained. Nearby, Huon pines were arranged in a pattern reminiscent of the flower of life.
Ignoring the stares of people who paused to watch her, Zanda walked towards the open space, venturing into a trail where the foliage thickened and gardens sprawled extensively.
Minutes later, she found a wall made of nephrite so polished it mirrored everything around it.
"Looking cool, huh?" Gia floated alongside her.
She cracked a smile as her T.H.I.C. dissolved into the crimson Armis enveloping her. Chromatic red chunks of hair danced in her natural brown hair, casting a glow on her shoulders. She passed through the crystal wall and her reflection, entering the building.
Inside, the atmosphere was cooler, her merkabah adjusting to maintain the warmth of her body. Ahead, a hallway stretched out, its rhomboid shape clean and straightforward, bathed in soft orange and green light that filtered through the ceiling. Crossing it, Zanda arrived at a larger space, a somewhat crowded room. Colorfully dressed individuals with cottophene and silkaphene attires moved across, too absorbed in their own worlds to notice her.
"Gia, has Refius responded yet?"
"No, he hasn’t seen the message."
"What’s the fastest way to the research labs?"
She was up to something.
Gia projected the route onto the crystascreen of T.H.I.C before her eyes. Zanda proceeded to a roofless hall, where a series of translucent crystal platforms known as levitators, much smaller than the fishtanks, ferried people back and forth, connecting the various levels of the vast station.
She stepped onto an orange platform, her kabbalah taking control, navigating through the spacious citadel. The brief journey allowed her to marvel at the architectural feat of that Civitas Permacolae. The platform rotated on its axis, offering Zanda a 360-degree view as hundreds of Porters led to myriad destinations across Malkuth.
The Porterum, a collaboration between Binah and Tipharet with Chokmah conceptualizing it, was a superstructure that radiated joy and pride, the essence of those three Sephirah unified in creation.
At the structure’s pinnacle, the flag of Malkuth waved, a piece of white fabric emblazoned with a Metatron’s Cube superposed to a silhouette of the world’s continents in gold at the center, surrounded by thousands of silver dots representing the stars in the visible sky.
Upon landing, Zanda stepped off the translucent platform, blending with the other Malkuthians, following her T.H.I.C.’s guidance.
"There’s no point in going to my office. I knew where you were, Zan. Why didn’t you just call?" A familiar voice reached her ears, one she hadn't heard in years.
Turning, she saw her childhood best friend standing next to a floating green dodecahedron, her own kabbalah. Naydir was tall, her hair a vibrant tapestry of dreadlocks in various colors, adorned in dark purple garments marked with the symbol of her Sephirah, giving her an official air.
Zanda couldn’t conceal her excitement. Her naadi exploded in gold tones as Naydir sprinted towards her. They embraced tightly, a hug filled with longing, history, and love, their naadis emitting the same color.
"Naydir! I was going to surprise you…"
"Nice try. But no. As soon as your merkabah crossed the Vis field around Civitas, I knew you were here. You failed, my beautiful, amazing friend, now a Gevurah! I’m so proud of you," Naydir’s eyes mirrored her emotions.
A tear slipped from Zanda’s eye as the embrace ended, their naadis blending into a shade of gold with blue topaz, reflecting their deep affection and familiarity between their souls.
"It’s been six years!" Naydir used her thumb to wipe away her friend’s tears.
Those beautiful brown eyes with long lashes smiled back, the multicolored eyeshadow matching her dreadlocks. "Closer to seven! I left a year and eight months before you," Naydir corrected, recalling their last encounter before her departure from Kosovo.
"Luti! It’s been a while, how did your slacker performed since the last time we saw each other? Could you make a comparison of our statistics?" Zanda greeted her friend's kabbalah to honor their previous tradition to compete against each other, thriving for excellence.
"It’s wonderful to see you well, Zan. If Naydir agrees, we can share the data and see where you have improved or slacked in comparison to each other."
"You and Gia catching up already? I’m down for it, what do you say, Nay?"
Her friend gestured with both shoulders in a carefree
"Exchanging data as we speak."
The two kabbalahs danced around each other.
"I love what you’ve done with your hair," Zanda reminisced about Naydir’s dream of dreadlocks with that style from their childhood.
"These things?" Naydir grasped a braid, feigning indifference. "Had it like this for two years, my soul. After graduating from Uvelia. You won’t see it again after today, late arrival…" she said with a smirk, clearly ready for a change. "I see your red chunks of hair, they match your merkabah, smooth crys!"
“Thank you, is brand new! Not the hair though, that’s old too. I guess It’s time for new hair styles! Oh, Naydir, I’ve missed you so much! When I emerged from Asporto, Gia told me you've become an amazing Tipharet! Look at you, working at the Porterum in a Civitas Permacolae. In just two years. I'm so proud!" Zanda’s voice brimmed with excitement.
"Thank you too…" Naydir took her hand. "Come with me, it’s been a while indeed."
They walked away from the levitators, both suppressing her naadi.
"It took me fifteen months to get here. After my Ceremonia, I took an eight-month sabbatical to Vietnam to study applied hydroponics and, well, enjoy time with the locals. It was fun."
They had met eighteen years ago, when they were five and seven years old. Zanda, the elder, noticed that the vibe emanating from Naydir was different from what she remembered as children. Back then, Naydir had seemed timid and unsure of her potential; now, she exuded self-confidence, navigating the Porterum as if it were her own domain.
The hall they walked through was carved from crocoite, like the rest of the Stagnum, but it was adorned with additional materials, patterns, and textures. Suspended glass platforms displayed various objects of historical significance, ranging from hundreds to millions of years old—tools, garments, samples of flora and fauna, literature, art, and remains, all restored to their original condition using replicant biotechnological techniques.
Naydir led Zanda through a series of passages branching off from the main hall.
"So, you're in charge of some important operation here, right?" Zanda broached, initiating what felt like an interrogation.
"You never did care much for details, huh?" Naydir teased.
"I do. That's why I'm asking. It’s been so long. Imagine, hearing it like it was for the first time will have more impact."
"Did you forget about my yearly letters?" Naydir's voice tinged with sadness.
"What?" The gevurah was puzzled.
"The letters I sent you," Naydir was annoyed, as though that subject was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What are you talking about? I received no letters from you...!"
"You replied!" Naydir cut her off, and exasperated, displayed a holographic image of a letter with an unfamiliar handwriting:
“I feel the same,” Z.
"That wasn't me, Nay. Did you even check the source?" Zanda was bewildered.
"So presumptuous!" Her friend refused to believe her.
"You think I'd neglect to catch up with you? Ha!"
"Why are you laughing? You ignored me," Naydir seemed truly upset.
"Hey! I didn’t know any of this. That's why it's funny; those weren't my replies. Gevuritah can't read any messages. We’re not supposed to; it’s against Asporto's rules. For the past five years, my only contacts have been with the Gevurah and my classmates. I haven’t even seen my parents! Don’t blame me for this, Naydir!" Zanda explanation had evident frustration evident in her voice, unprepared for such an outburst from the Tipharet.
Naydir's expression softened from confusion to a less hostile demeanor.
"I'll quench your thirst for knowledge. Don't worry. How could I have known?" She pondered aloud, not waiting for a response. "Who received them and replied in my stead?"
The thought of someone intercepting her correspondence for nefarious reasons sent a shiver down Naydir's spine.
"Could it have been another Z, by mistake?" Zanda speculated.
"On the Ethernet? Only if I'd been sending to the wrong address for five years..."
"It's not too far-fetched to imagine that could happen."
Zanda’s reasoning came half-expecting a rebuttal that never came.
"You owe me a narration about your role in all this..." Naydir attempted to refocus the conversation. "I wasn't upset about those replies, by the way; it was a little tease that turned into quite the puzzle, they’re from Refius, your mentor. Let’s enjoy our walk. We're about to reach my studio." Patience was something Zanda struggled with, but she made an effort, placing the idea of her mentor responding for her on the side for a moment.
A minute later, they stood before a peridot entrance set in the center of a citrine wall.
Naydir approached the glowing entrance and gestured Zanda, giving her access to the studio through the green stone, which dissolved around her as she crossed through it.
****
That's it for Chapter XI!
If you enjoyed it, please consider supporting A Tree of Omens!
Follow, share, leave a comment or review, either works.
As a reminder, Patreon is up and running with 26+ Chapters ahead of SH release.
Thank you for your time and see you along the road!
Aequitas and much love,
Indigo Sapiens.
