those, once they fused them to the book could unlock the wisdom of the volume.
afterward in a steaming bath, quotillda sipped at a cup of tea and then set it on the wide ledge of the stone tub that held hot spring waters that had been diverted into it. from where she sat within it she felt the stress of the mundane work of the day melt from her muscles. inhaling deeply she reluctantly opened her eyes knowing in the time she still had to work on completing those duties left after dealing with this new urgency. that had urgency that would have an effect far beyond the roots of the tree she lived under.
in the time before she must sleep she and quotienne's fusion had to be interpreted and their dream visions studied. she still had to determine the severity of this latest manifestation of the barriers between worlds breaking down and allowing the bleed through of damage from the opposite side to pass over to hers. after making that determination the decision had to be made to inquire as to if the phenomenon were local or more widespread and whether to elevate the level of response more broadly to the whole world. at the same time, continual monitoring had automatically been enacted by the assessment of the great books and by that as well, which of them had placed itself most prominently. as if it had deemed itself to be the most relevant. sentient volumes had a way of doing that.
inhaling deeply of the water scented by the plant matter blended specifically for the practice of a dream visioning quotillda gazed at the sodden blooms and fronds and bits of leaf.
sitting motionless she felt the sensations of static shocks under her skin, flitting from fingertips to scalp to spine and tailbone to the tips of her toes. face so hot it steamed in the air. the familiar sensations of her body really ready to assimilate that which must come by her consciously awakened mind. she saw the floating bits resolve into shapes and scenes. she sat still as stone as she passively allowed all of the sights to play on.
the water had cooled and the herbal aromatics had clumped and congealed when a shiver brought her from the trance. as she stood she saw her bed share oto standing beside the stone basin holding out a fluffy dry wrap for her to step into. she did so gratefully and as she stepped into his hug, his arms and encircling her body, he pulled a hood up over her head.
he let go and she closed the robe properly around herself saying, oto, i never heard you come in. his fair head tipped back as he heartily chuckled and said, sweet, you say that every time. both smiling, they shared a knowing glance. so, quotillda asked, her eyes crinkled at the corners, what did I say this time oto? he smiled indulgently down at quotillda as they made their way arm and arm to their bed chamber. he began to recite his part in their oft repeated routine for her post awakening recaps. she loved oto's description of her step-by-step return to complete awareness or awakenedness. endlessly fascinated by each of her said upon awakening from trance remarks she did not recall. oto dutifully recited, what did you and melid do today? that was the first thing, and then, you wanted to know, who was melid?
quotillda moved to her side of the bed and sat shaking her head in amazement. she knew no melid. sometimes she caught random thoughts.
she positioned herself to lean back glancing over to where oto sat busying himself in the same activity and asked, does that mean anything to you? oto shrugged unconcernedly, blue eyes sparkling in his light like face. he was so precious to her, to all of her people, because of how genetically rare he was. even in the diversity of shades amongst her people, their eyes were all were tones of brown. oto's blue were a treasure. she was so very grateful he chose her to be his mate, mostly. they reclined in unison, eye to eye and like the end to a bedtime story, oto completed the ritual of her post bath routine.
you said hello to me as i entered our dwell even before i could even call out, you were welcoming me home. you come out of it way before you think. quotillda sighed as she sunk into her head rest eyes closed she waited for the rhythm of oto's breath to make the signal that he had surrendered to deep sleep.
finally, she opened her own eyes, sat up carefully arose and made her way to her workspace. sealing shut the entryway before turning on a light to get the rest of her work finished so she could sleep herself she settled in and began to sort and to sense from her earlier fusion and trance work.
later, as she emerged from the root bunch she called home into the sunlight she could see the diminutive tender people going about their work in the low patches of growth alongside the well trodden path.
there had been a rainy night with wind strong enough to pull from the trees and brushy plant life all manner of fallen broken pieces. plenty of leaves, needles and twigs and branches. some fuzzy or scaled with symbiotic lower order vegetable matter, all treasure to the smaller spindly limbed folk. reinforcement to their dwellings that despite their careful construction sometimes suffered damages from storm debris crashing down onto them. there were even injuries and deaths, so sturdy construction materials were always in need. the other yield from the harvesting was that they made medicines and preparations used in many products used in all of their society. in the upholding of their tree home and it's environs. a cooperative effort that gave lives great and small purpose and position that mattered equally.
the tenders, tended to the chemicals essential to life and processors after a storm were able to procure a number of items considered rare because certain fallen bits only had viability for the medicinal formulas for a limited time. importantly, some must be procured from only fallen. should anyone, great or small were to grow up and have harvested any kind of it while it existed as growth the chemical makeup would be immature and any contact with fingers with alter it, change the nature of it and it would be useless. so, the ingredients must grow to the fullest of its growth cycle unmolested to be effective. once a tree or bush or shrub lets go or is torn by weather's action from its central column, it soon dies.
yet it has an afterlife, for once the tenders collect it they cure and extract and heat it with liquids and they get reduced to syrups and tinctures and other things not meant to be ingested. cleaners, tints, dyes, paints and solvents, etc.
quotillda exchanged several waves with the tinier beings and a burst of well-being flooded through her, as it did with each encounter with the milky pink hued people. their color said to be a result of consuming so much of the fuchsia blooms they cultivated for food.
she began to be conscious aa she walked of all of the different tones of the drips landing all about her, lulling her into a near trance state. she let herself move slightly into the mind space not wanting to go completely, knowing the very deep gorge below and woven fiber and very motile footbridge she walked above it could be dangerous to the inattentive. the reports she'd taken home and other important paperwork were needed at her office. her former office. in the trance state, outside, she may wander, loose her grip on what he carried or not remember where she'd gone and have no memory of divesting herself of her possessions.
so she stayed on the better side of alert and lost herself in all of the still droplets sparkling in the sun. looking at every reflected and refracted world they seemed to contain. she made the most of the moment of ease in her mind, aware that once she's dropped off the office work with frissa, handing over stewardship of the area's functions she'd be free.
so she and quotienne could compare notes on their respective journeys with the tomes and get a handle on what seem to be penetrating the walls between worlds. how to both heal the physical wounds and prevent the spread of the sickness of the wounded people. her own explorations had informed her this would follow the arrival of the hardened discolored organs and effluvia if they weren't careful. that, she now knew with certainty was signaled this kind of intrusion.
deep in thought quotillda made her way across the gently swinging creaking bridge over the civic circle structure directly below. passing several neighbors see waved or exchanged forearm taps as she did.
greeted at the entrance by an agitated frissa, she let her voice the first time in charge nervous questions asked in a flurry, and then calmly placed a hand on the frissa's shoulder as she stepped into the space. setting down the parcels on the table next to her customary chair, this day she sat in the supplicant chair opposite. her move stunning her into silence as she stood frozen in place except for her head and eyes turning to and from where quotillda sat across from her customary seat. until quotillda takes her hand and nodding at the vacant chair and says, you know this is your due. blushing frissa sat and quotillda answered all of her questions. when it was clear the panic was ended she assured frissa that she was more than qualified to do whatever was expected of her, and would do fine quotillda stood up to go. as she exited the enclosure she heard a slightly wavery, farewell and hurry back! she turned and flashed a grin, waved, and left.
there were more people out now, making their way to their various occupations. some nodded or waved, but none stopped her to chat and because they were not all from her knuckle of her tree's root bunch. it was still their tree too, and they knew what business she was about. those silent communications through! word had been spread rapidly amongst the denizens the whole way round the tree. not knowing specifics, or having any knowledge of what the tomes had educated her on regarding past penetration events they had only the sense that there was an unusual degree of seriousness as to the nature of whatever had caused the need for quotillda and quotienne to make fusion. this much had been sensed and instantly communicated. as was well. not all were trained or innately gifted to become skilled in the trance work, not to mention the qualities needed to enter the tomes in transce. she also felt the trust and confidence in her and her brother to effectively do the work to the most optimal resolution.
buoyed by the support she raised her head a touch, further straightened her already perfectly straight spine and quickened her step. soon her breath step and heart beat were one as one and she nearly floated the rest of the way to her destination. her sandaled feet made taps and squelches as she stepped on stones and small wet depressions in the path she strode down. unconcerned by the warmish brown muddy solution sluiced between the gaps in the weave of her sandals. reaching a particular knuckle in a tree much smaller than the one she lived in she stepped onto a rung on the rope ladder strewn over top of the knuckle and grasping with both hands another rung until she found herself on all fours reversing herself so she could lower a foot and leg down to a rung and lower herself back to the ground. already feeling awkward as she backed carefully groundward she heard the titters of some of the winged creatures whose forms were so like her own with the addition of great wings they grew from their backs. great, and iridescent yet transparent as well, even when folded modestly together, their upper tips extended above their heads nearly a head again in vertical length. below the hem of the simple shoulder strapped apron type modesty wrap they wore trailed the ground where they stood. fully extended they looked as if an intricate construction of sheer rainbow reflective sheet dotted with colors like the scales of a sky glider. they moved in reaction to the diminutive flyer folk, displaying the fact that they were body parts and not worn by the beings. while they resembled quotillda's people in form, head, torso arms and legs, they weren't the same order beings. they seemed to understand the language but chose not to speak. if one were to judge by their snickers it wouldn't be unreasonable to think they could if they so chose. they just didn't.
their tinkling laughter and cheery air helped quotillda maintain her composure and wrest the feelings of being seen as undignified into submission as she clambered the last bit of the way down the tall side of the tree knuckle. there was nothing like the chime like sounds of laughter at her obvious consternation to remind one that she indeed looked as silly as she felt. that'll take the starch right out of one's self-importance. she straightened her clothes and dusted away any stray bits of debris collected as she'd clambered. having assured herself that she'd made her journey without having lost any of the materials from her shoulder sack, she inhaled deeply and under the play of song from all of the flighted creatures soaring above and the sounds of children outside on a break from lessons nearby filled the air. she walked toward the recess that held the entry to quotienne's dwelling.