Isten igájában I.

The story opens inside an imposing 1930‑era seminary perched on a misty Transylvanian hill, its stone walls and towering crucifix casting long shadows over the cloistered courtyards. Every day follows a rigid timetable—pre‑dawn prayers, strict meals, endless lectures and silent study—while the scent of incense and the echo of ancient chants linger in the cold, vaulted chambers. The atmosphere feels both reverent and oppressive, as if the building itself were a solemn tomb that guards its secrets behind iron‑grilled windows.

At the centre stands a young orphan, driven by the desperate need to support his ailing mother and three younger siblings. He wrestles with the weight of his vows, the guilt of borrowing money for education, and the fear that he does not belong among the devout scholars surrounding him. As he navigates the relentless routine, his inner conflict between faith, familial duty, and self‑doubt begins to shape a fragile but compelling quest for purpose.