Kiev, the capital city of Ukraine.
It was built in the mountains, comprising brown, black and red soil, instead of being constructed by the mountain. However, it was big enough and could be seen from afar.
Some meanings seem to be hidden beyond the white wall and the simple and crude style also seemed to indicate its standpoint.
It was Pechersk Lavra.
Anatoly had returned to the monastery with Sullivan for three days.
However, Anatoly didn’t see Sullivan again within these days. He seemed to go deep into the monastery—where he had never set foot in before, even if he graduated from here.
Forbidden grounds, sacred grounds…such names had been circulated among the students while he was still a student here.
He thought it was probably a conjecture among students, plus the old priest didn’t formally explain it, so the legend had been being spread for years.
‘Only those who have the grace of the Lord can enter.’
Anatoly was an orphan since an early age and was abandoned near the monastery. Later, he was picked up by an old priest and grew up there.
Because it was dawn, so the old priest named him Anatoly.
That meant sunrise.
Life in the monastery was as simple as returning to the primitive society. Growing up here, being baptized, and then officially becoming a priest. Finally, he gained the recognition of the Dean with the best performance among his peers within merely 20 years.
He was a genius in others’ view, but he knew that was just because he worked a little harder than them.
“Anatoly, are you in?”
Anatoly was praying when someone knocked the door. He always kept praying when he had time.
Praying made him empty his mind, and listen to the Gospel of the Lord.
“The Dean invites you to go to the 13th auditorium.”
That forbidden place?
Anatoly saw Mr. Sullivan, and the dean, who had blessed him personally when he graduated… as well as the old priest who picked and raised him up from the wilderness.
“Anatoly, my child, come here.” The old friar smiled as waving his hand.
Anatoly came to them, and began to look at this ’13th auditorium’. He found it seemed more ancient here, and exuded a sacred atmosphere all the time, which could calm his heart… even more than the effect of praying.
But in fact, this 13th auditorium didn’t look like a hall.
Correctly speaking, this was actually a stone room with candlesticks hanging on all four sides. He walked to the center of the auditorium, where was a round table actually.
Sullivan was waiting at the center for his arrival.
The dean and old friar stood at both sides of Sullivan. When Anatoly came to them, the old friar suddenly reached out his hand and whispered, “Anatoly, my child, kneel down.”
Anatoly nodded without hesitation; then he knelt down.
The old friar added, “Close your eyes, then pray in your heart and listen quietly.”
Anatoly slowly closed his eyes.
In the meantime, both the dean and the old priest retreated slowly to the edge of the round table, lowering heads and closed their eyes.
Because what would happen next might be blasphemy if they witnessed.
Slightly white light emitted on the round table, and Sullivan got close to Anatoly. He opened his hands, and his body slowly left the ground.
He was floating up.
Suddenly, a ray of light burst out of Sullivan’s body; at that moment, countless white ‘feathers’ dropped from the ceiling of the hall.
A pair of white, soft wings slowly opened at Sullivan’s back— finally, Sullivan opened his eyes too.
That was a pair of slight golden pupils.
Almost at the same time, a golden beam of light emanated from a sphere in the center of the auditorium and shone upon Anatoly…as if being bathed in a golden sea.
It was warm and compassionate.
Anatoly was lost in this feeling that soaked
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