It is strange to see my old monastery covered in what appears to be snow. Given that it is an asteroid monastery, and not on a comet.
However, the system has had a metaliminal storm bringing ice particles, that collected on the odd potato-shaped rock on which the monastery is located; most of the monastery is underground but there are some structures outside, including a shuttle port, facing the cold vacuum of space. These structure now sport a nice wintery scene, looking as if the monks can come bursting out on its surface to roll a snow puppet or start a snowball fight any time.
We devote ourselves to copying scriptures here, following in the steps of Saint Aloysius, our patron saint. This is goes on day and night without interruption. The scriptorium lies deeply in the asteroid, and is protected by relics and side-altars where always one of the monks is praying. This protection is needed to avert the copy demons, believed to besiege the monastery.
Nowadays, it is easy to copy a text flawlessly electronically. But back in ancient times, it was believed that demons try to secretly corrupt faith by altering words, whispering errors of translation, or distracting monks who would skip a word. A single error, faithfully recopied over centuries, can bend doctrine and hollow out faith from within. Hence the protective prayers, and the presence of a hierarchy of scriptors, lectors and correctors.
I shared a simple meal with my brothers after my arrival, and they asked me hundreds of questions about my travels and about capsuleers and their organizations. I felt exhausted. They have kindly offered me to sleep in my old cell!
