Nones. A dim candlelight illuminated Brother Gabriel’s book stand in the scriptorium. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink and the sound of brother Marcus’s quill scratching against the vellum was the only sound filling the air. As a new monk to the monastery Brother Gabriel’s obedience was to study the strict rules of the monastery before he would be allowed to attend regular choirs. He had already been reprimanded several times for minor transgressions by the prior, as the roundsman was piously conscientious in reporting anything out of order. But clemency prevailed thus far, and the monks had only asserted small punishments like cleaning the cutlery.
Brother Gabriel though had no mind for rules. His nature was unbridled which the monks claimed alluded to his upbringing in the forest. Gabriel himself hardly remembered his childhood but could only recall the lamentations of the monks about the prior’s ordination of the young boy into St. Ambrose’s Monastery after having caught him begging and stealing food from the nearby market in Ravenswood. His parents were long vanished and lacking any trade a life in wild freedom would have meant certain death if the prior had not taken him up five years ago. Though grateful for the safety provided by the monastery, Gabriel was never fully able to adhere to the pious way of life. The grey and brown robes, the meticulous schedule, and the dark and cold stones of the scriptorium in which he spent most of his time contrasted too starkly with his memories of the wildlife in the forest. Thus, he could only think of ways to follow his own disposition, ideally without the monks noticing. In the scriptorium, he would not study the rites and sacraments of the church but rather peruse any chronicle of Ravenswood to discover any possible hint alluding to his long-lost parents. So, Gabriel was presently reading the Historia of Ravenswood rather than the scriptures of the Lord. Written on worn vellum, the gothic letters complemented with illuminated drawings told Gabriel of the rich history of Ravenswood and St. Ambrose Monastery, which was apparently erected right when the town was settled. The chronicles tell of a dense forest just behind the monastery which was filled with fabulous animals, witches, and outlaws in the drawings. Gabriel was just reading about golden-hued amber gemstones of utmost rarity and value hidden in the forest when the sound of hundreds of galloping cavalries approached. The church’s bell rang violently when the librarian Brother Marcus bolted into the scriptorium.

“Run! The earldom of Ironcrest launched its attack!”

The town was scavenged, and the monks fled the monastery scattering across the forest and adjacent hillsides.

For months Brother Gabriel wandered the forest, on one hand eager to encounter those fabulous beings which he read about but on the other hand desperate to find a monastery to find refuge in to cure his painfully growling stomach, which felt as if it was trying to eat his body from the inside. The seldom-found bush of berries was nowhere near enough to sustain him and his strength was growing weak when upon walking further east he noticed bushes already plucked of their berries near a light trail. Hoping to find another human in the solitude of the forest he followed the trail when on the horizon a chapel tower came into sight. He approached the new monastery cautiously but filled with hope as well. At the main gate, Gabriel met Brother Jonathan the guest-master.

“A brother coming from the forest? What’s your name?”, he said as Gabriel came into sight.

“I am Brother Gabriel from St. Ambrose Monastery. The earldom of Ironcrest attacked and drove out anyone who they haven’t killed. I have been wandering about ever since.”

“Praise Lord’s Providence. You came away with your life. I am Brother Cedric; this is St. Seraphim’s Abbey. Come on in, Brother, you looked worn. I will inform prior Matthias, in the meantime, seek out the kitchen, it is right next to the Refectory, the Brothers will attend to your provision, tell them I sent you.”

“Lord bless your soul, Brother. Am I right in assuming I have left Earldom Amberholm?”
“Right, Brother. St. Seraphim’s Abbey lies in Havenbrook of Earldom Silvermount. But the prior shall illuminate your questions further. Prime is advancing and I need to attend to my obedience shortly.”

Gabriel, after having replenished in the kitchens sought out Prior Ambrose, who according to the Kitchener is a hospitable man but strict in adherence to rules with a deep understanding of theology and the scripture. His nature is of unwavering devotion to his faith and the monastery, so Gabriel’s accommodation surely he must earn by work.

Gabriel found the Prior in the abbey chapel, praying at the altar. He was kneeling as Gabriel stood quite a distance behind him. An Amen concluded a series of pious murmuring.

“Prior Ambrose, honour me with a moment of your time.”, Gabriel started.

Ambrose was a mature man, with grey hair surrounding his tonsure and a thick beard covering his wrinkled face. His auburn eyes were testimony of the grace and hospitable soul he had as they made Gabriel feel comfortable in his presence.

“Ah. A new face. What brings you to our monastery, young monk?”

“Gabriel is the name. Sadly, the circumstances at home are what has brought me here. The earldom of Ironcrest has attacked Ravenswood and scavenged the whole city. Not even God’s house stopped them from succumbing to greed and violence. Luckily, I escaped before the attack reached the abbey, but the monks have scattered, and I have lost all my brothers.”

 “May God protect us in these trying times. I am appalled to hear your story, Brother Gabriel. I assume you would like to stay here in St. Seraphim abbey now that you do not have anywhere to go.”

“Naturally.”

“We certainly have enough housing to take you in, my brother, but you will have to also follow your obedience here. What was your task at St. Ambrose Monastery?”

“I shall work with utmost gratitude, my dear prior. I was a scribe, soon to be taught the art of illumination as well.”

“Very well. Talk to Brother Adrian, he is our librarian. Tell him I sent you to take up your work as a scribe in our monastery and he shall give you work.”

“Thank you, Prior.”

Compline. The monks retired to the dormitory and Gabriel’s accommodation hardly differed from his in St. Ambrose Monastery.

Prime. Right after service. Gabriel was introduced to the scriptorium and the library. St. Seraphim’s library was immense. Way larger than St. Ambrose’s. As he was introduced to the library Brother Adrian spoke: “There is plenty of work to be done, brother. Our own scribes work conscientiously but old age has withered their speed. We could need new scribes anyway. Let me introduce you to our oldest scribe, Brother Sebastian. He will guide you in your work.”

Brother Adrian led Gabriel into the scriptorium, past a few scribes to an old man hunched over his table.

“Brother Sebastian, I introduce you to our new scribe: Brother Gabriel. Please receive him well, he is seeking refuge from the charge on Ravenswood. I will leave you to it.”

He left abruptly.

“Brother Gabriel, pleased to meet you. I am sorry for what happened to St. Ambrose Monastery, but rest assured you are safe here.

“I shall work assiduously to show my gratitude.”

“I am sure you will. The table to my right has been cleared for you. Grab Dante’s work from the library and get to copying.”

Gabriel was struck by the curt order but expected no less from a monastic scribe. In the end, all monastery life should be the same. The same strict rules, the same punishments, the same responsibilities. So, he walked into the vast library and searched for Dante’s Divine Comedy. Sifting through the old volumes he found a copy of the Historia of Ravenswood. With his curiosity piqued anew, he could not resist but grab the chronicle and peruse it briefly. It was evidently even older than the copy in his old monastery and the illuminations were quite different as well.

“What’s taking you so long, Gabriel?”, the old scribe shouted from the scriptorium.

Gabriel swiftly grabbed Dante’s work and got to work.

Compline. The monastery was already fast asleep, but Gabriel’s curiosity held him awake. Could he possibly uncover the reason for the war?
Naturally, once he was sure the brothers were unconscious, he snuck out of the dormitory back into the library. He put the old volume on his table in the scriptorium and perused the old pages under dim candlelight. The illuminated beginnings of the town deviated from the version at home. This version read of rituals for the pleasure of heretic gods where witches would give birth to red-haired babies in the forest and then leave them on a heap of foliage. Every ten years this ritual was said to be repeated or else great tragedy shall befall Ravenswood. Gabriel was shocked and indignant as a single red hair fell from his head onto the page.