Chapter 13
"Noah, are you all right? I suppose it's only natural, since this was your first worship service, but..."
Philip asked with concern.
"Yeah... I'm all right now."
I gave him a weak smile.
"Then, next is the meeting room. They'll assign today's tasks there."
I followed Philip down the stone corridor, as he kept glancing back at me worriedly.
The priest, Edward, was waiting in the meeting room.
He unrolled a well-worn sheet of parchment and assigned the monks their posts one after another: the fields, the stables, the kitchen, the scriptorium...
"...Philip, you'll sweep the fallen leaves in the courtyard again, same as yesterday."
"Yes!"
Philip answered cheerfully. Now it was my turn.
Normally, they wouldn't give much work to a five-year-old ward who'd be sent to the cathedral in just a few days.
At most, they'd tell me to play in the garden with Philip—but...
"Father..."
Johan interjected in a restrained but confident voice.
The priest raised an eyebrow.
Suppressing his excitement, Johan began reporting the "miracle" from this morning's worship service.
"This child, Noah... seems to have heard the Lord's voice during worship earlier. He has such a delicate soul. I think a quiet task he can immerse himself in would be best."
The priest's gentle gaze, yet one that seemed to see through everything, turned toward me.
I deliberately lowered my eyes as if to avoid the priest's gaze, and clutched the hem of Philip's clothing with a trembling hand.
—A young, pure lamb overwhelmed by the light of God.
It was the perfect role to stir a virtuous priest's protective instincts.
"...I see. The Lord's voice."
The priest approached and knelt to meet my gaze. A soothing scent of incense wafted from the priest's hand.
"Then, Noah, starting today, help me clean my library. It's quiet in there. It should calm your agitated heart."
—I've won.
As I met the priest's benevolent smile, I silently stuck out my tongue.
The library.
The temple's sole repository of knowledge, a treasure vault lined with books.
"If I help there, will I be able to learn more about God...?"
At my feverish question, the priest nodded with satisfaction.
"...Very well, that's all the assignments. Each of you, devote yourselves to serving the Lord."
At the priest's words, the stone meeting room suddenly sprang into motion.
Philip grabbed a bucket and ran off to the courtyard.
Prompted by Johan, I headed deeper into the temple.
When the heavy door opened, the smell of old parchment and myrrh, along with a faint hint of mold, hit my nose.
"All right, Noah. This is an important place where the words of God are kept. Could you dust these low shelves for me?"
"Yes. I understand, Johan-san."
As I cleaned in silence, the bell rang again.
The monks from all over the temple gathered in the dining hall.
No one spoke in the dining hall. The only sound was a single reader standing at the lectern and reciting the scriptures.
We were served black bread as hard as stone, an unidentifiable bean soup boiled to mush, and a little watered-down sour wine.
On top of being sleep-deprived, we were deliberately given little to eat.
They were keeping my brain undernourished so the lingering effects of that so-called mystical experience wouldn't leave my mind.
They were as thorough as ever.
Thanks to that, even after only putting on a little act in the chapel and dusting the library, my stomach was already crying out.
When the prayer after the meal ended, the monks stood up.
Johan came over and gently patted my shoulder.
"Noah, did you eat enough? This afternoon is study time. I'll teach you the sacred letters."
"If I learn them, will I be able to hear more of God's words?"
I gazed up at Johan with eager eyes.
"Yes, of course."
Philip, a few other novices, and I were gathered in a corner of the courtyard.
As expected, Johan was our teacher.
"Listen, everyone. Words vanish on the wind, but writing remains as if carved in stone. We must learn these sacred marks so that we never forget God's love."
As Johan read the letters aloud, he carved them into the ground.
"Now, trace this groove while saying the sound aloud."
It seemed to be a phonetic alphabet.
At least it didn't seem to have an endless number of characters like kanji.
—That said...
At this pace, how long would it take before I could read a book?
Still, they seemed to regard their writing as sacred.
If I tried to rush things here, they might take it as arrogance.
For now, I'd do as I was told.
I traced the grooves Johan had carved, pronouncing the sounds as I went.
Then I carved the same shapes beside them.
I didn't mind the cold mud or the dirt wedged under my fingernails.
After tracing them perfectly, I looked up at Johan hesitantly, like a child.
"Wonderful. You learned it after seeing it just once."
Johan said, barely able to hide his excitement.
"Now for the next one."
I traced the letter Johan carved without hesitation.
"...You already wrote it? Philip and the others are still struggling with the very first stroke."
Johan's eyes widened in surprise.
"Johan-sama, can I write about God with these symbols?"
When I held out my muddy hands and hurried Johan along, he began carving more letters, his expression a mix of confusion and anticipation.
"Very good. Perhaps God dwells in your fingers. Then I'll teach you five symbols at once."
Looking at the letters carved so far, I realized something.
—The right-hand components were consonants, and the left-hand ones were vowels... If I learned the rules, I wouldn't have to memorize every single one.
"Johan-sama, how do you write the 'hi' in 'light'?"
I efficiently gathered the vowel-and-consonant combinations I hadn't learned yet.
Johan taught me one letter after another, his face filled with both surprise and delight.
—At this rate, I'll be able to read and write in no time.
Then I'll be able to read the books in the library.
The knowledge of this world.
The doctrines of the church.
I'll have it all.
With my hands covered in mud, I kept carving letters.
Philip watched me with admiration.
"Noah, you're amazing..."
I smiled innocently.
I would keep playing the part of a pious lamb.
The bell rang.
It was the signal that the afternoon's work was over.
I stood and went to wash my muddy hands.