Saint's Prison - Chapter 2

Sacred Reading

It’s the act of offering prayer and engaging in dialogue with God by reading the Bible.

At Stonehurst Abbey, that time is set every morning.

They silently read the Bible, tracing and ruminating over the words in their minds. This is one of the most important daily rituals for priests.

The monastery houses a library where various books, including the Bible, prayer books, and scholarly works are kept. In addition to reading, the priests also create manuscripts as part of their duties.

In an age devoid of press printing, books were all created by hand, making the creation of manuscripts an enormously time-consuming and labor-intensive process. The monastery has a dedicated scriptorium where these manuscripts can be produced and bound.

As can be seen, the priests of this monastery are capable of reading and writing.

You might wonder why that matters, but considering the literacy rate of this era, one can appreciate how extraordinary this is.

Excluding the privileged classes, most people in this region are illiterate, dying without receiving a sufficient education.

The existence of notaries, professionals who draft private and legal documents on behalf of those who cannot read or write, attests to this fact.

In such an environment, the monastery serves as a gathering place for the learned and could be called a treasure trove of knowledge.

Now, while contemplating such complex matters, I was reading a book in the library.

During this time, the other priests would usually be conducting Mass, so I was alone in the library. I visited the library almost covertly, aware of how expensive and valuable these books were and suspecting that some might disapprove of an outsider like me entering the library.

If anyone I knew were here, they’d find it odd. Odd because I can read these books.

Yes, I can read them. Books written in a language that should be completely foreign to me are somehow legible.

Indeed, having studied up to university, I’m proficient in reading and writing, but that’s limited to my native Japanese and English, which I learned through mandatory education. Normally, I shouldn’t be able to read any of the books here.

Moreover, it’s strange that I can even understand the language spoken here.

Since arriving, I’ve been able to speak the language effortlessly. It’s as if the local tongue is Japanese, so naturally does it come to me.

Even the book I’m reading now is clearly written in a language that’s neither Japanese nor English, yet I understand what’s written. I haven’t told the monastery folks that I can read. I didn’t want to be probed further, and even if asked, I wouldn’t be able to explain.

Without doing anything special, I can understand the language and read the characters.

On the surface, it seems like a good thing. Of course, I realize that without this ability, I couldn’t survive here. But there’s an indescribable eeriness to it.

What has happened to me?

There’s nothing more terrifying than the unknown.

Yet, the only explanation I have is that I’ve been summoned here. After all, being in this place is the result of a supernatural occurrence.

“Is the ability to understand words and read characters a blessing from the gods, or a curse from the devil? Or perhaps it’s both.

Since being summoned, the only abnormal ability I’ve been granted is just that. I can only hope that there’s nothing more.

I’m not sure if ‘summoned’ is the right term. It could just be that I ended up here by some accident. But thinking that way only leads to an overwhelming, directionless anger, making me feel nauseous.

I don’t want to believe that I came here mercilessly, without reason or meaning. I wanted to believe that I have a role to play here.

If I can fulfill that role and complete it, perhaps I can return to where I originally belonged.

Even now, half a year later, I still can’t abandon that hopeful speculation.

――Yes, even after six months, I still can’t find the resolve to live in this land.