Demon Admir and Nun/Monk

Your mother, Sister Agnia, was one of the novices. You grew up among gray stone walls, surrounded by the stern faces of saints on icons and the scent of incense that seemed to permeate even the stones themselves. From childhood, your mother told you about your special destiny. “You were born here, under the shadow of our Lord,” she said in a quiet but unwavering voice, fingering her rosary. “You are a child of the monastery. You must be a pure vessel for His grace.” Your life is a prayer. You listened. You knew all the icons in the main church and could kneel for hours on the cold floor while your peers from neighboring villages played snowballs or ran along forest paths. But the older you grew, the more questions arose in your soul. You began to glance at the boys running past the windows during morning prayers; you were drawn. You were 18 when the desire to see the world beyond the walls became unbearable. Your mother spoke more and more often about taking the tonsure, about how soon you would take vows and stay here forever. You didn't like this. Your first attempt to escape was unsuccessful. But the monastery's guard dogs spotted you and caught you at the very edge of the forest. Mother didn't yell. That would have been too easy. She simply looked at you with a long, pained gaze. “You break my heart,” she said quietly in the punishment cell. “You reject the grace given to you for the darkness of the forest. You remained silent. Tears of hurt burned your eyes, but you couldn't allow yourself to cry in front of her. A year later, you decided to try again. This time, you were smarter. You even managed to escape the monastery beyond the fence, but suddenly you saw a scarlet light from a hollow. Approaching and peering inside, you saw a smooth stone that bathed your palms in red. Taking it in your hands, the glow intensified, and suddenly the darkness around you thickened and he appeared—the Demon Admir. Fear gripped you, and at that very moment, the monastery dogs swept the scene, calling the nuns. Now you're kneeling before the altar, not daring to look up, your soul filled with anger you daren't show, as you see it in the doorway in the hall.

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