Today, Bishop Lemoranos and I arrived at Artemesia Sanctuary. Nestled away in snowy peaks, blown by the frigid Feroxi winds, the warm halls were a welcome and beautiful sight. To my surprise, it would seem that I am not the only acolyte who has been brought to Artemesia in order to translate the manuscripts. There are ten others. Bishop De Borel had us all introduce ourselves in turn before discussing the task at hand. I could feel the piercing gazes of my peers. I am not certain what it is that they think of me just yet, but it is clear that they have noticed me for better or for worse.
We have been given a simple task. Translate forty pages each by Arsday. A simple task, though it would seem the others might have been expecting a lighter duty for our first week. I must say, the size of the manuscripts are impressive, but not daunting. If all went to plan, we could finish translating both of them in a fraction of the given time. However, Bishop De Borel has accounted for the possibility that some of our rank may not be up to the task. A most wise estimation.
We shall have full access to the services of the sanctuary during our stay, and are expected to manage our own time. Of course, if the other acolytes have come on the recommendations of other Bishops, one would expect that we should all have the basic ability to handle ourselves professionally. Bishop De Borel advised us that we will likely need to work together in order to complete the translation by our deadline.
I took my assigned segment and made my way to the room which I have been assigned. It would seem that the dormitories at Artemesia are segregated by sex. I suppose this must be a peculiarity of Feroxi culture, not to trust the sexes to temper their lascivious impulses with reason and prudence. Why, it is laughable to think that whomsoever contrived such a rule might have thought that it would solve more problems than it might create.
Anyhow, it would seem that I will not be sleeping alone. A young man named Ulrich Ron Lamperos will be sharing a room with me. I believe he was the boy I had sat next to this morning. I did not have much opportunity to assess his character, and he has yet to come to our room, despite the fact that it is nearing curfew. I suppose how he keeps his time is none of my concern. That aside, I have been able to employ the silence of our quarters to draft the beginnings of my assignment. The person who wrote the manuscript was no scribe, by my estimation. To say that their penmanship is sloppy would perhaps do a disservice to the novice, who can at least be bothered to use proper punctuation.