A space decorated with brightly colored tiles bearing geometric patterns.
Water channels ran here and there, and in the center stood a small fountain sending a trickle of water flowing softly.
<Is it a garden?>
In truth, there were no flowers or trees. The soil of Sanarak was designed to kill, not nurture, living things, so not even a cactus could survive.
Nevertheless, as Agnes said, it felt like a small flower garden.
Jewels in the shape of flowers and trees sparkled, scattering the light from luminous stones.
When water droplets struck the flower petals, a sound like that of a glass harp reverberated, clear and resonant.
I felt almost captivated by the light and sound, like standing before an exotic garden oasis.
“Honestly, it’s impressive.”
<I hate to admit it, but it’s true.>
In particular, the earthen-baked tiles caught my eye.
Unlike the stained glass of the Holy See, their opaque splendor was mysterious and beautiful.
[“Architect of the Tower of Trials” explains that this is an arabesque style.]
I strolled across the flowerbed walkway, neither too fast…