The first nights in the Basilica Castle of Divulge Blood. For some reason, according to Eliza, are basically sleepless nights. Where she thought this castle’s owner of holiness was way too strong, she became unable to sleep. On the other hand, the sounds of wind gushing, distant thumping, and groans as well as melancholic whispers accompany the night. Do those come from the Holy Spirit, perhaps?
Eliza lay down on this spacious bed. She takes her beret off, nothing more. Her scarf is still wrapped around her neck, and the boots remain around her feet, as well as the jacket — it stays on due to how unbelievably cold the room is. Is this what truly happens when she stays in such an icy Slavic country known for its monarch ruling?
Nevertheless, she smiles at herself. This mission, which the Chapel members thought would crush her as a lesson, became her exciting journey toward change, in becoming a better servant of Jesus Christ with the mother of Our Lady of Fatima.
She thought for a moment, why do the marble floor patterns form pathways, as if acting as a guide to lead her somewhere? What would truly happen if she did cross it? She knocks her own head, “Oh, ridiculous! Just lie yourself down to sleep, Eliza!” She scolded herself and forcefully tried to close her eyes, hoping she would fall asleep.
The whole night then rotates. The Rus’ night, full of cold sensation and somehow strange, vintage energy surrounding her, as if medieval time is unfolding around her like a rotating earth. Eliza shuts her eyes lightly, just appears as if she's not truly asleep.
Soon, the sun will rise. She gets up and looks through the window. The sunrise is really dim around St. Petersburg. Despite its dimness, it is truly an enchanting sight, a rare feeling to witness what it truly feels like staying in St. Petersburg.
Eliza, at that time, arranges her wardrobe neatly. She chooses what she would wear that day, and of course, it is the white gown, black sleeveless jacket, and the headpiece, and she slides on her crucifix necklace, gifted by Mother Claudia. She looks at herself in the mirror, wiping her face, and takes her books as well as the ink box and the pen that absorbs the ink.
She steps out of the spacious room, impressed by how vast the surroundings are, as if it could be the home of her great-grandmother, when in fact she does not even know who her great-grandmother is, nor her ancestors. She walks, trying to find the pathway downstairs in such a spacious castle full of holy portraits painted along the walls and ceiling, the biblical paintings. She is impressed just like yesterday, but as she keeps staring, the fire of excitement begins to very slowly dim down. Not out of effort of adapting to the place, but something that leaves her unsettled… something she cannot name.
Today’s breakfast is the same as midnight’s, since she herself knows maybe the Duke was pleased the food was scrumptious, and she ate it just as usual before moving on to the Ruskyiev Orthodox Christianity studies. As she got up, she was startled by Swetlana’s sudden appearance, as if she had emerged out of thin air. Eliza was frozen in disbelief and confusion until Swetlana got close to her, lips near her ears.
“His Royal Highness says it’s at the dome hall, at the intersection of this living room…” She whispered, almost bone-chilling and unsettling, making Eliza wonder in her heart why Swetlana couldn’t just call her name and guide her like how society does.
As she enters the dome hall, Eliza notices the door is made of bronze and sculpted properly, with mosaic crystals decorating the surface. Such a splendid look. She noticed the circular table is large, made of wood perfectly aesthetic for research. As she sat down, waiting for whichever scholar was in charge of teaching, Eliza skimmed through her books, looking at those blank pages. As she does so, immersed, she doesn’t realize an invisible presence behind her.
“What lovely whitish hair for an American to have!” A joker-toned voice with a Slavic accent — too close. It scares the living daylights out of Eliza. Who is this man who appeared without her hearing any footsteps? she doubts. This man had a boyish cut, short with the sides longer, covering part of his eye. The outfit he is wearing is the Orthodox long golden-colored coat with a red pattern in the middle. His crucifix was large.
“Pardon me, I may have scared you. Despite being a man of knowledge, I do have a mischievous side too.” He giggled.
And not only that, he gets his white painted face with red eye blush and some eyeliner edges under the corners of his eyes, and red cherry lips as a clown closer, “ You must be….. The American Postulant Eliza Kalinin. An American with Ruskyiev’s last name, oh wow! We are relatives !” He said whilst laughing hysterically.
“ My bad! I am just very pleased to see you here! I am Vladimir Orlov! The bishop of this basilica castle! And it is my duty, assigned by my Lord Dmitri Stephanov, to teach you. For your information, he is my savior! He saved me from being confined in an asylum for believing in his willpower!” He proudly exclaimed whilst opening the Slavic language orthodoxy secondary resource book.
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“ What willpower made you believe in him?” She asked solely out of curiosity. There, the clown's bishop smile fades, “ oops! I shouldn’t tell you HAHAHAHAHAAH” he laughs again and stops halfway, when the presence of Duke Stephanov is staring, peeking on the door that he passed by, eyes turning red before he walks away, leaving the bishop Orlov stunned.
Vladimir picks up the book, carefully analyzing and “ AHA! Found the perfect one!” He said, slamming the Cyrillic gospel book, the 11th-century Ostromir Gospel. When the teaching begins, Mr Orlov is surprisingly a serious bishop teaching her. He helped translate the Cyrillic ostromir gospel, helping her step by step, interpreting the meanings, and later used an effective method by questioning her back about one of those chapters she learned from the book. Despite his slight awkwardness (Eliza believes) from the first meeting, he is a good teacher. He also makes the traditional study session happy, and he’s a humorous man as well, but the thing is, his humor is rather just him holding back his too-strong humor, which is his true humor. Even when the humor isn’t his type, it is rather old school, like in medieval times.
“ These books, those five sources I taught you, they proved the power of the Lord’s plan. He is the almighty who is beyond knowledgeable than we humans. We should always repent because the world is temporary,” Bishop Orlov said with a neutral face.
“ And don't forget, he is also the healer! As you may not know, I was wrongly confined in an asylum for believing in the greatness of the Lord, and they tortured me by making me eat bugs! I keep screaming in rosary I was taught by my religious teachers, and until then, the Lord opens the window for me, I run whilst SHOUTING HIS NAME, OH FATHER OF ALL LIVINGS AND A SON OF OUR LADY OF FATIMA!” He screams, echoing the whole dome until another man, in the same gold hood and red pattern on the middle comes and confronted Bishop Orlov, “ Mr Vladimir Orlov, you do know this isn’t an ordinary place for overly fanaticism of God and you are aware the Duke wouldn’t be pleased, right?” He spoke in the Ruskyiev language she didn’t understand in gentlest manner of a gentleman way, he had a short beard, hair long and tied behind the hoodie and has the headwear.His skin is pale, cheeks toned, and V-jaw. and his eyes noticed the presence of her
“ Ah, and you must be sister Kalinin of the Chapel of Fatima from New Jersey,” he switched to English, emotion is all friendly. He offers handshake and somehow his hand is quiet cold for her, assuming its a normal slavic mundane and says “ I am Father Viktor Sokolov, a leader, priest in this basilica castle and I am responsible for conducting the mass while also guiding Mr Orlov” he says and somehow Father Sokolov had rather, a warmth that is too good to be true.
“ Being a priest here, it can be a Lord’s test but also a blessing job to do, if you do have questions you can ask anything from me!” Father Sokolov says. He also had painted white face, with yellow eyeshadow and red lips. Maybe it is the tradition of Ruskyiev’s way of orthodoxy.
Until then, Swetlana comes again inside, bringing the tea and dessert, specifically for Eliza, since the desserts are limited and the tea cup has only one serving.
“ Thank you, Swetlana, but what about Father Viktor and Bishop Orlo?” she asked. And Bishop Orlov laughs whilst saying, “ We both ate before we do our duty! Religious authorities woke up the earliest!!!” Bishop Orlov exclaimed when his blue eyes were slowly turning red, and he blinked again and they were blue as usual.
Eliza smiles sincerely and eats her food. One night, Eliza had bathed herself in the cellar prepared in the room where there is a well. She wore her nightgown, light up the candle and stays by the bed, she started grasped both palms against each other and thus praying.
“ Our father Jesus Christ, with Our Lady of Fatima, thank you very much for blessing my journey on this ongoing expedition like a saint going on endless brutal missions to deliver the true path to the believers. In the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I am asking you to protect me from evils and strengthen my spirit to grow as wiser as the servant of Lord I am-”
The prayer was peaceful until the candle blind off by itself. “ Oh Lord…” she grunts. About to get up to take lighter and then she saw a sight of Swetlana walks very slowly, accompany with unknown Cyrillic whispers accompany her. Eliza immediately get off her sight and she wait for her to disappear before she can take the new candle and light up new one.
She looks through the window, the view is really beautiful tonight, and she acknowledges it. As she look down from tower of onion dome she stays at, she saw Duke Dmitri Stephanov, who is standing right from distance and is looking, directly at Eliza. His blue eyes are as neutral yet his demeanor of him is very much unsettling. He is in his usual red musket uniform with platform boots, and then slowly he rather cripple with legs rather than walk. Maybe it is just the fact that Eliza stays in a higher room and she probably had a wrong view about it. What kind of sane man would do such a thing? Let alone the Duke of this Basilica Castle. She took her bible and read matthew testament. She is in her own solitude in such holy place but somehow it slowly became difficult to find such eternity peace and Eliza still believes it is her own weak faith needs to be repaired.
Eliza’s diary:
February 12th 1922
Today is the day I received lessons from a Bishop and a Priest in charge. Duke Dimitri never told me about them, but it is expected that I will be guided by the experts. The ostromir gospel was great. Jesus is powerful in the book written by a medieval Russian scholar. Ruskyiev, especially my stay at St Petersburg, was such an amazing blessing that has ever happened. I could not express it more with words because even when it is my first lessons with the books gifted by the bishops, I still have more to learn before returning soon to Newark by May. I can't wait to go home, which is Lord’s small house, the Chapel, and tell Mother Claudia how much I have grown in the knowledge of God. and I also can't wait to laugh again with sister Collins about our shared silly jokes. By all means, tomorrow shall be my blessed day, much more so it seems!
Eliza from St. Petersburg
The last drop of ink has fallen on paper after the diary. She was smiling until she involuntarily looked at the door in front of her, the sight of Bishop Vladimir Orlov is seen peeking at her from higher height of the eight-foot door, when his actual height is about a hundred seventy-six feet tall. His nails clutched on the edge of the door, nails longer than usual, and his eyes were blue, flickering with red before they disappeared, and he vanished his head off. Eliza immediately runs to where he hid and sees nothing, she gets terrified by her own sanity, and she closes the door immediately and sleeps on her bed, covering the blanket and reciting the Psalms Testament on verses she remembered.
She clutched her crucifix, gifted by Mother Claudia, and right now she is in confusion how her inside demons can see such a god forbidding vision when she is, in fact, inside the Slavic’s holiest place known to man?
