Symbols

“My Lord is always with me ... even in the darkest hour. I don't like to see it, but feel it. ”He continued to concentrate on himself, as if he were reciting a mantra. He took the other steps and stood in front of the archway. A huge, white archway that led into the cellar. Godric bravely stepped under it, had the feeling that the cold had increased. He picked up the candle as quickly as he could and looked for the plate. Godric hugged himself briefly, shaking himself as he shivered. He wondered how it could be so cold all of a sudden and looked ahead. The basement was open. The arch as an inlet, then a further corridor, which end you couldn't see because it was devoured by the darkness. Something flashed in that darkness. Godric saw it with difficulty. It was the candle plate. He had rolled far into the dark corridor. He bit his lip lightly. Should he get it? He couldn't leave anything behind. It would be contrary to all teachings, even if it were only a small candle plate. But contrary to his style, it was simply to leave everything behind. A kind that he'd like to slap himself for right now. He took a brave step into the corridor, just wanted to get the plate quickly and then leave. He would rather sleep outside than stay here a second longer than necessary. He took the last step, picked up the candle plate and turned towards the exit, but suddenly stopped. Has it always been so dark here? Godric no longer saw the hand in front of his eyes. Had he really gone that far for this little candle plate? Godric eyed the corridor and saw that it parted a few steps further. If he went to the left, he had the rough plan in mind, he would soon come to the family archive. From there he could safely get back to the main house. He leaned to the left, wanted to go down that passage, but paused and cocked his head to one side. His gaze was on the corridor that ran to the right. He should now actually take his chance to get a few more hours of sleep, but the right corridor exerted an unexpected attraction on him. It was so dark and had a strange charisma. The words of the abbot at the time not to enter this part hammered into the back of his head. Godric was not a man of fear. He trusted in himself and his master. He had put aside the childish fears, except for this one. Godric had become a courageous abbot. As a child, still so weak, he was now trained and practiced in the use of the sacred martial arts and the word. He no longer saw the world with the fearful eyes of a child, but with the strong eyes of a man.

 But this walk exerted a fascination, which let the serene, adult side rest and revive the childish, curious side.

Godric had turned from the safe side and dared to step into the dark corridor. He no longer had a candle as a light source and there were no light switches. The only place where there was a hint of electricity was in the kitchen. He was pretty happy about that, as were the other residents. With a refrigerator, food couldn't go bad anymore. However, the fact that there was no light here did not force the father to return. He ventured deeper and deeper into the unknown, dark world. He had carefully placed his hands on the walls in order to find at least something in the darkness. The corridor wasn't particularly wide, so this was possible without any problems. There was just enough space for two children to walk next to each other. Godric carefully let his fingertips flit over the cold stones of the wall, which felt old and crumbling, as if no one had taken care of it for a long time. Godric wondered why, as he did not believe that the other monks were just as afraid to go into this vaulted cellar as he was. He dismissed it himself as a remnant of his children's fears and now wanted to face them. Was it because of the warning words of the abbot at the time? He couldn't think of an answer, but the urge to follow this corridor was greater than any answer.

 Deeper and deeper into the darkness

How long he ran, or in which direction, or how long it would take to get there, he didn't know. He was only certain of one thing: he had covered a long distance, so that he wondered whether this passage led into the mountain itself. The walls ended two steps further and Godric's hands reached into space. He looked up but saw nothing. The darkness proved to be the young man's stubborn companion. One thing he could say, however, was that this room in which he appeared to be standing was huge. No matter how hard he tried to get hold of a wall, a wall, or something else, it was unsuccessful. "Am I in the mountain now?" Godric had asked himself, since he couldn't explain it otherwise. Such a narrow corridor, which seemed so endless and all of a sudden a huge room. He laughed at the thought. If it were in the mountain, it would mean it was hollow, or at least partially. Of course he knew caves that could lead through a mountain. But from the basement of a monastery? Unlikely. Still, he didn't know how to explain this place where he was. It was too dark to see anything. You couldn't hear anything either. As if everything around him had fallen silent. At first Godric had heard the wind whistle every now and then, but the deeper it got, the quieter it got. Godric smelled a smell. It smelled old. The air was stuffy, very thin. He was finding it hard to breathe and the smell of old and rotten things had gotten his nose. He recoiled, fell on his own feet, and landed hard on the stone floor. The ground gave Godric hope that he was still in the monastery. The smell made the young body uncomfortable. Was there a grave here? Was it even catacombs? Nothing unusual for a monastery. But this monastery buried its bodies elsewhere. A huge cemetery was hidden deep in the forest. Every monk who lived here was buried there. Each Talin had its final resting place in the cemetery. In a mausoleum, which was built in honor of Amon in the center of the cemetery.

Now that he had come this far, Godric didn't want to turn back. His pride would not allow this. He was about to sit up when his ring started to glow. Confused, he looked down at his finger, then brought it to his eyes. In all the time he had the ring since he could remember, he hadn't done this. It had shocked him, but even if he wanted to, he couldn't get the ring off his finger. He'd have to cut off his entire finger. “What happened?” But he didn't get any further, the ring had taken on a life of its own. As if by magic, the ring pulled on Godric's hand and led him down the path. He couldn't escape it. The strength was so strong that even when he pushed against it with all his might, he was pulled along like a small child by the hand of an adult. So Godric decided not to fight back, was of the opinion that his master might even take his hand. He did not want to escape the sign and when further steps were taken, the ring had lost its glow and returned to normal. Confused, Godric blinked and wondered what this meant, thought he might have fallen asleep on the stairs after all and now had the strangest dream in his lifetime. But he didn't have time to be amazed. All of a sudden the room was lit up. In front of the confused Father was a huge gate, almost two heads taller than he was. Next to it hung two torches that had caught fire and drove the darkness away. It wasn't an ordinary fire, however. In the red fire, there was a slight bluish cast. Godric wondered what was in store for him, wondering where these torches suddenly caught fire from. This was clearly not normal, he felt. Especially not with this thin air. Any fire would have gone out down here. He eyed the torches, turned away, and saw that he was right in his first guess. It was really a huge room. While the stone floor was reminiscent of the monastery cellar, the vaulted ceiling was of a different texture. "Really ... a cave ??" Even if he had imagined it, he hadn't thought that it was the truth.

His gaze wandered from the ceiling to the gate. It looked like an old stone gate. Yet it was something else. The gate was black, like the previous darkness. This wasn't the only special feature. Various symbols were carved into the gate. Some he recognized as divine symbols, others were alien to him, as well as some characters. Slowly, bit by bit, Godric stroked the characters to see them better. An unrecognized fascination spread through him. It was as if the gate was magical for him . But among all the known and unknown he was able to discover Latin characters. They were a bit pale, like the rest of the symbols, but were still clearly legible on closer inspection. 

 Qui ad hoc sanctum imo cognitionem facit animam. Qui ad hoc sanctum tenebras faciens scire. Qui ad hoc sanctum peccare, ne forte resipiscant et ad regendum mundum. 

Amon 

Godric looked up in surprise. It was personal from his ancestor! He paused for a moment. Of course, Latin was also part of his training, except that he did not use the dead language that often. Only alone when he had to read the documents from the archive. Without exception, these were all in Latin. That was how Godric had translated in his head.

Whoever enters this holy place gets to know the depths of his soul. Whoever enters this holy place becomes acquainted with the darkness. Those who enter this holy place should repent and not give sins a chance to rule over this world again.

 Amon