The first thing you notice is the dust. A thick layer of grime seems to have materialized over the many scrolls housed in your Personal Library, and you kick yourself a little for not taking better care of them. But then again, they were always so daunting to approach: a constant reminder of everything that was wrong with you, of everything that you couldn’t know.

Until now.

You unroll the first scroll, shake off the dust and, with the help of your trusty Tome, begin to read its contents. A pang of nostalgia hits you when you realise it is a collection of the hymns that Brother Johannes and the rest of the monks used to sing in your monastery. The lyrics come accompanied with musical notations that, when passed through your Tome, actually play you back a tune. The sound quality is nothing compared to the mighty organ that Brother Conchobar used to play so expertly, but it is enough to allow you to sing along:

The King of love my shepherd is,

whose goodness faileth never.

I nothing lack if I am his,

and he is mine forever.

You smile. The hymn takes you back, of course, but it also speaks to your current state here, with Sires Plant and the rest of the Chosen. It is hard to put it down just due to how fun this scroll is to read, but you decide that you will return to it once your research is over.

As you keep switching from scroll to scroll, you are astonished at the variety of resources Brother Johannes used to teach you. Many of them are religious in nature: Bible passages, hagiographies, psalms. But you find so many other texts amidst the piles. Some relate to medicine and both poisonous and medicinal plants, which you take a special mental note of – it is just the kind of information that could probably become useful in a pinch. You also encounter an account of something called “hybridization”.

Mixing and matching plants can lead to new plants with new capabilities? How wondrous! You think to yourself, making sure to remember that for the future.

As the day goes on, you read scroll after scroll: monastic records, philosophical musings, food recipes. Some are more useful to you than others, but all are a joy to read. To think that this knowledge had once been kept from you, that you had thought you were unworthy of this enjoyment… you’d rather not think about it.

By the end of this very productive (and gargoyle-less) day, you have read every single scroll in your Personal Library. Satisfied, you prepare for a well-earned, reparatory nap when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot one final, unread scrap. It is less so a scroll than a folded up note, lost and forgotten amongst the rest of the parchments. You pick it up gingerly, afraid of its fragile appearance, and open it up. You recognize Brother Johanne’s clear, blocky writing immediately, a style he adopted as soon as he realized it helped you recognize words. It reads as follows:

To my dearest Sed,

A number of the monks in this monastery we share believe that one can only grow closer to God through great deeds: winning a ferocious battle, taming a terrible beast, writing an epic of unparalleled length and beauty. Of course, these are all great feats, and God looks kindly upon all those who celebrate Him thus. However, I find that many of our fellow Brothers often overlook the power of smaller sacrifices, of personal adversities nevertheless overcome.

My lad, if you are reading this note I have here left for you to find, that means you have overcome a foe as great as any decorated knight or oft-tortured Saint has. Your newfound ability to read brings me so much joy that my body can barely contain it, no matter when you obtained it or how long we both had to work for it. In the end, your hard work and dedication have paid off – God has bestowed His grace upon you, and that is all that matters.

Further, I believe it pertinent for you to know just how immensely I enjoyed our time working together. Every hour I have spent in your company has made me a better person, both spiritually and otherwise.

Thus, my greatest wish having come true, I can now only bid you farewell on this most new and exciting journey you are to embark on. The Gates of Knowledge have flung open for you, my boy. May they take you to interesting ports.

God be with you,

Brother Johannes.

You put the letter down before your tears can stain it. Despite the strength of your devotion to Sires Plant, it still breaks your heart to think that you will never see your home again, nor be able to say goodbye to Brother Johannes and the rest. But that just makes the fact that you are now able to read their scrolls all the more special. You will always be linked to your monastery, to your people, through the knowledge and stories you shared. Now, for the first time, you truly feel like one of them.

Wiping the tears off your face, you take one more sweeping look at the scrolls that surround you and nod – a salute to all the men who put these works together. Then, you take Brother Johanne’s note and put it in one of your pouches.

The rest of the scrolls may stay, you think. But this one you are carrying with you.