In the shadow of the medieval ascetic monastery, the novice Roderick held a wax figure and knelt in front of the confession grille of the abandoned chapel. He cut open his palms with thorns to pray for the "stigma", and stuffed the bloody bandage into the cracks of the grille as an "offering". In the eyes of everyone, he was a madman possessed by "Baphomet", but in fact he concealed a connection with the gods that transcended taboos - when the torch of the religious trial approached, when the light of the stained glass shattered on the stone bricks, was the wisp of frankincense leaking from behind the grille a salvation, or a more insane perdition?
Purpose: To explore the boundary between "piety" and "madness" in the gap between religious trials and holy beliefs, to write about mortals' taboo and burning attachment to gods, and the individual's struggle to find "truth" with pain and obsession under the huge religious machine.