Page 9 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

I bit my lip, tearing off little pieces of dry skin until I tasted blood. That metallic sting grounded me in a bitter way. Suddenly, Eata came over to me, gently dabbing something onto my lips, it smelled like mint and apple.

“Here.” She handed me a small silver jar with no brand on it, just simple, handmade. “It helps with dry lips… and with the habit of tearing them,” she said softly.

Then she placed a black silk hood over my head.

It was so smooth, almost like water flowing over my hair and shoulders.

For a moment, I felt like a ninja under cover, though the reality was far from that.

My mind, as always, created these wild little scenarios, and the thought made me giggle softly in surprise.

Eata smiled at me with that same gentle warmth and patted the scarf to secure it in place before we headed off to the dining hall to help the sisters prepare breakfast for everyone.

It felt like a pretty big day for me, a chance to get to know everyone better. In some ways, it reminded me of being at summer camp when I was thirteen, when everything was so new and the world felt bright with curiosity and possibility. Now, I felt the same way again. New people.

A new place to live for a while.

A new everything.

A new life… and I planned to take this chance into my own hands, to finally find myself and bring peace to my soul.

After a light breakfast, which was quite simple: just boiled eggs, some fresh bread, and stewed vegetables with beans, accompanied by sweet honey green tea freshly brewed from mountain leaves the sisters had gathered earlier in the season, Eata invited me on a guided tour of the monastery’s surroundings.

We took a transparent umbrella large enough to cover us both, and stepped out into the grey morning.

The cool wind seemed to slip under my skin, making me shiver a little, but overall, it wasn’t too bad.

The dress clung close to my body, shielding me from the breeze, and with the hood wrapped snugly around my head, I felt warmer, more sheltered.

Eata, too, wore a hood today, perhaps to support me.

Not everyone wore them here, I noticed, but as she explained, it was mandatory for the first three years.

Supposedly, it helped drown out negative auras and bad thoughts.

So far, I hadn’t felt any miraculous effect that might save me from a lifetime of inner anxiety… but I tried not to dwell on it.

Raindrops pattered gently against the umbrella above us, their delicate rhythm soothing in its own way.

I watched as each droplet rolled down the clear surface, catching flickers of light from the overcast sky.

We walked along narrow stone pathways lined with dense old trees, their thick trunks rising like ancient guardians into the misty air.

The canopy above shielded us from the worst of the rain, and the ground was littered with fallen petals, pine needles, and damp leaves, filling the air with a fresh, earthy scent.

Eventually, the narrow path opened out into a sprawling garden that stretched far beyond what I could see.

It felt like stepping into a secret paradise.

Everywhere I looked, colors burst forth in every possible hue: deep scarlet peonies, clusters of pale lavender, tall stalks of golden yarrow, bright wild daisies swaying softly, and beds of dark blue and violet irises shimmering under raindrops like tiny jewels.

Flowering bushes draped the edges of the garden, their heavy blossoms bending low with moisture, releasing delicate, sweet scents into the morning air.

It was as if the entire place was breathing out a perfume of peace and life.

I gasped at the sheer beauty of it all, unable to hold back a smile. Eata giggled at my reaction, her laughter as light and airy as the mist swirling around us.

“It’s interesting to watch you, lambkin.

” She smiled at me, and something inside my chest blossomed at that smile, like the sun peeking out from behind heavy clouds.

This woman had become so dear to me in just a few hours, simply because she showed me kindness and care.

I felt… protected. Like a baby bird tucked under her strong, warm wing, sheltered from the horrors of the outside world.

I didn’t want to leave her space. I didn’t want to leave her.

I had gotten attached so quickly… far too quickly.

I ran my fingertips lightly over the delicate petals of the white bush roses growing thickly around the perimeter. Their scent was intoxicating, floral and fresh, wrapping around my senses like a calming embrace.

“Estelle takes good care of these flowers,” Eata said softly, trailing her own fingers over the rose petals. “She’s done a wonderful job. She brought beauty here in just a couple of years.”

“Yes… her care for the flowers is truly amazing.” We walked on, moving slowly through rows upon rows of blossoms, touching them, breathing them in, connecting with the quiet energy of nature.

Calmness washed over me like a gentle tide – the soft rain, the quiet company of my mentor, and the endless flowers… it all felt so peaceful, so right.

Soon, the flower gardens and greenhouses were behind us, and before us stretched a vast vineyard field. My eyes widened at the sight of endless rows of vines climbing over trellises, disappearing into the misty horizon.

“Wow… do you make wine here yourselves?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

Eata burst out laughing, the sound bright and clear amidst the drizzle. “Of course. We try to produce everything locally, as much as we can.”

The vineyards stretched for kilometers, their leaves shimmering wet and green under the rain, bunches of grapes hanging heavy. “Wow… can I…?” I asked hesitantly, pointing to a low-hanging cluster.

She nodded, smiling with encouragement. I plucked a single green grape and popped it into my mouth, only to grimace instantly, it was unbelievably sour, shocking all the sleepiness out of my body. Eata laughed heartily at my expression.

“You’re so evil,” I mumbled with a playful pout.

She just shrugged her shoulders, picked a whole handful of grapes, and ate them without so much as a flinch, chewing calmly and swallowing.

I stared at her with wide eyes, my mouth open in amazement.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched her – this strange, strong, gentle woman who had already become my mentor and my safe place.

Huge baskets lined the rows between the vines, already half-filled with freshly picked grapes.

It seemed whoever had been working here earlier hadn’t managed to finish before the rain forced them to leave.

I couldn’t blame them, working under this persistent downpour wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone.

It felt as if the rain had been going on forever, though it was only my second day here.

“Are you… are you a saint?” I turned my gaze to Eata, still unable to comprehend how she could calmly eat those sour grapes without wincing.

“Something like that,” she said with a wink, popping a couple more bunches into her mouth. I watched her in wonder as she chewed, unfazed, before we continued on our way, exploring the hidden corners of the monastery grounds under the shelter of our large transparent umbrella.

Beside the vineyards, the landscape transitioned into a dense, dark forest. From where we stood, it looked ominous, almost menacing under the grey sky, the thick canopy shivering under the rain and wind.

Something about it sent a chill crawling up my spine, and I instinctively slowed down, not wanting to go anywhere near it.

Eata noticed my hesitation. She placed her warm hand gently on my back, urging me to keep walking, guiding me forward with calm insistence.

It felt like she was in a hurry, and I understood – she was the eldest here, after all, and she couldn’t spend her whole morning strolling around with the new girl.

“I’m sorry, I just…” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“Nothing to apologize for,” she said softly. “But I don’t recommend going into that forest alone. We usually go in pairs, or only those who know the trails well venture there. It’s easy to get lost in the wilderness. I usually go there to gather rare herbs that only grow in the deepest parts.”

Her fingers traced small circles on my back reassuringly, then she smiled and tilted her head slightly.

“But for you… it’s better to walk among the gardens with their beautiful flowers and enjoy the sun when it finally comes out.

Oh! Or–” her eyes lit up with sudden realization, “I just remembered another place you might like.”

Her excitement was infectious, and despite the chill, a small spark of warmth bloomed in my chest. Was it a park? A secret grove? My mind immediately imagined a hidden sanctuary of peace somewhere on these vast grounds…

“Let’s go quickly, Astra is waiting for us over there!

” Eata pointed ahead, beyond a small grove of trees.

Through the thinning forest, I could see the world opening up into light and beyond it, the cliff.

I could hear the rhythmic crash of waves even before seeing them, a sound that was impossible to confuse with anything else.

Was the ocean really this close? I thought the monastery was far inland, but here it was… just beyond the forest’s edge. The realization sent a shiver of awe down my spine.

We walked briskly through the dripping trees, emerging onto narrow cobblestone paths lined with slick moss and pale stones.

Ahead, a long staircase carved into the cliff descended steeply, winding down and down until it reached a beach of black sand far below.

The steps looked damp and treacherous, with wooden boards bolted haphazardly into the rock and narrow ledges that barely counted as footholds.

To be honest, I didn’t want to go down there at all.

Astra stood near the top of the stairs, facing the ocean with her back to us, without an umbrella, her shoulders soaked under the rain. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and she trembled, as if every drop was a needle piercing her skin.

Eata walked up to her quietly, wrapping her arms around Astra from behind and pulling her close, stroking her dripping hair with infinite tenderness.

I saw Astra’s shoulders shaking, her muffled sobs hidden by the sound of the rain and waves.

What had happened? Just this morning she had been cheerful at breakfast… laughing about the honey tea…

“Astra, what—” I began softly, but Eata shook her head with a quiet, firm not now, little lambkin. I closed my mouth and nodded, understanding.

Astra cried silently into Eata’s chest while Eata whispered to her in soothing, melodic tones, “It will be fine… it will be fine… it will be fine…” like a gentle mantra, a spell of comfort that gradually stilled Astra’s trembling.

Her cries faded to ragged breathing. She clutched at Eata’s long skirt with desperate fingers, as if afraid she might drown without holding on.

Eata handed me the umbrella so she could fully enfold Astra in her arms. I held it up awkwardly, trying to shield us from the slanting rain as I watched them. Something inside me felt tight and uneasy. What could have happened to her?

Then Eata’s calm voice brought my eyes back to hers. “These steps lead down to the beach. It’s very beautiful there… especially at sunsets when the water turns gold. But it’s hard to climb back up afterwards.”

I peered down the slippery wooden boards nailed into the rock, glistening with rain and moss. “But… it looks dangerous to go down there…”

Eata laughed lightly, brushing Astra’s wet hair from her face. “Every time I walk on them, I say ‘God be with me’… and I’m still here, as you can see.”

It was a weak argument, honestly. God or not, my sense of self-preservation wasn’t ready to trust those slimy steps, especially in this weather.

“But still…” she added softly, her smile gentle, “I wouldn’t recommend going down there in the rain.”

Astra turned towards me then, her eyes red and her lips trembling. “I’m sorry… I just…” She took a ragged breath, still recovering from her tears. “I’ll tell you my story later, okay?” She tried to smile, but it faltered with guilt and exhaustion.

I smiled back and took her cold, wet hands into mine. “How long have you been standing here, poor thing?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know…” She rubbed her thumbs softly over my knuckles, grounding herself with that small, tender motion.

Eata stepped between us and gently took the umbrella from me, raising it higher above our heads to cover all three of us. “Come,” she said warmly, her voice both commanding and motherly, “let’s go back to the monastery. We’ll drink hot tea.”

Together, we turned and walked back through the forest path, the rain pattering steadily around us. My heart felt heavy with questions but also light with quiet relief because despite the cold and the sadness, there was warmth waiting for us, waiting to soothe our trembling souls.

Back to the monastery.

Back to the warmth and care.

Back to our monastery… our home, forever.