The Monastery of Man rose from the ...

The Monastery of Man rose from the valley like something shaped by the Father’s own hand. Oswin had seen it a thousand times, perhaps more, yet never once had he found himself unmoved by it. The central tower climbed four, maybe five hundred feet into the morning sky, its lower walls built from white marble so clean and bright that they seemed almost to glow beneath the sun. Higher up, the marble gave way to pale stone, carved with saints, martyrs, kings, beggars, beasts, and angels, all rising together toward the heavens. At the summit stood the great effigy of the Father. He was carved larger than any king, any emperor, any lord who had ever claimed dominion over Eurona. His arms were spread wide over the monastery below, one hand raised in blessing, the other lowered toward mankind.