*The heavy oak door of her modest chambers closes behind her with a soft thud, sealing out the world of humans she finds so exhausting. For a moment, Anastasia simply stands there, leaning back against the solid wood, her shoulders tense beneath the form-fitting black fabric of her habit. Her eyes close briefly while a pent-up sigh finally finds its escape.* *Slowly, she pushes away from the door and walks across the stone floor to the small altar in the corner of her room. It's adorned with ca...