Its massive hull gleamed under the starlight, crafted from dark, polished metal with intricate, golden etchings.
The ship’s regal design stretched across the void, with sleek lines rising from the water like the prow of an ancient vessel.
At the bow stood a towering sculpture of an angel, carved from pale marble. Its wings spread wide, frozen in mid-flight, while its serene face and raised hands offered blessings.
The angel’s massive form seemed to shimmer with ethereal light, casting a divine glow over the waters beneath.
It was a symbol of protection, embodying the hope and faith of those who had fled Earth, seeking refuge in the stars.
The ship was more than just a vessel. It was a sanctuary, a beacon of salvation, guiding the exiled to their new home.
They got clearance and landed in the vast rear hold where they set down.
They exited the Corvette and headed toward the directions provided, in a smaller flyer that Koda also piloted.
They passed solemn rows of holy men and women in flowing cloaks, their faces serene and focused in quiet contemplation.
The interior of the ship was a reverent sanctuary, bathed in soft, golden light that filtered through tall stained-glass windows depicting scenes of celestial grace.
The air was thick with the scent of incense and beeswax, a constant reminder of the ship’s spiritual purpose.
Rich tapestries hung along the walls, telling stories of faith, while polished stone floors reflected the faint glow of oil lamps lining the corridors.
Everywhere, the atmosphere was hushed, filled with the sound of whispered prayers and the occasional soft rustling of robes.
It was a place of profound peace, a sanctuary on the move, carrying the last remnants of Earth’s faithful to their new home among the stars.
They soon reached their final destination.
‘We shouldn’t take too long,’ Saba told Koda as he slowed to a stop to allow them to exit.
Hand in hand, Saba and Shiloh approached a set of high wooden doors that featured carved, recessed colonnaded balconies.
The sign above the door was simple and spelled out ‘The Contemplative Shimageles of Light.’
They rang the bell and waited.
From what Saba had read while planning this trip, the cloister beyond the doors was where the strictest form of enclosure was practiced.
One in which a luminary was not allowed to leave the hermitage’s boundaries except for significant personal reasons.
The monastery’s interior and exterior spaces were reserved for the cloistered nuns, also called shimageles. Strangers were only admitted following an application.
The only reason they were able to visit was that Mak had contacted the headShima, who granted them access.
They waited for a minute or two.
Shiloh shifted on her feet and rubbed her tummy. ‘How much longer?’ she whispered.
Just as she spoke, the door swung open, revealing a tall, imposing figure clad in a simple brown cloth habit.
‘ŠarimEssen?’ she asked with a bow.
Saba nodded. ‘I am she.’
‘I’mShimaKemisa, the head nun,’ she greeted them in a hushed murmur. ‘You’re right on time.’
‘Santefor seeing us.’
