Aksinya leaned contentedly on the pitchfork, wedged the prongs between her rubber boots, and watched the goats feed in the now spotlessly clean barn. Ever since she had accompanied Sergey from Neo Yakutsk to his parents' house, she could not get enough of these animals. From the first day of their arrival, she had begun to help Irina with all her household chores as best she could. The two women had quickly become friends, and Sergey's aunt was happy to pass on her knowledge of animal husbandry to the former slave, whom she knew little about personally and who always worked hard. She trusted Sergey completely in this regard and refrained from asking too many personal questions. Time would show why she had voluntarily left the city. The place where so many young people wanted to go to find a supposedly better future.

Aksinya, on the other hand, was happy here in the periphery, even though the last throes of winter still held the country in their grip. Her life had undoubtedly changed for the better since leaving the metropolis behind, and with every hour she spent in the countryside, she seemed to blossom more and more. With enthusiasm she absorbed all the impressions and experiences of this simple and hard life, standing in the garden night after night, fascinated, looking at the stars in the sky that she had never been able to see before, thanks to the dense smog in the city. As the first warm rays of the sun began to melt the snow, Aksinya's silence about her past began to thaw. She talked for hours, and the more she talked, the lighter she felt, the freer her heart became. She talked so much that her voice became hoarse, and she told her whole life. Irina made tea and listened. She heard things she had never thought possible. Things that touched her, horrified and shocked her. She now saw this woman in a different light, and the pity she had felt for all these stories slowly gave way to a quiet admiration. Admiration for how Aksinya had managed to be alive after all that had happened to her. When she finished, they sat facing each other in silence. Eventually Irina stood up and took Aksinya in her arms, who began to cry. It would take more time. Time for the wounds in her soul to heal.

Three days later, Sergey trudged into the kitchen with heavy steps. Over his shoulders hung the deer he had shot two hours earlier. He placed it in a large bowl and took a deep breath.

"This is wonderful!" Aksinya rejoiced, preparing bread dough and beaming at the unexpected hunting success. "We can eat from this deer for a whole week!" Sergey smiled briefly, then wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. He had carried the dead animal a long way and was now completely exhausted. Then he shook his head gently.

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"Not we, you," he replied softly. Aksinja's eyes widened. She took her hands out of the bowl of dough, wiped them on her apron and came closer to him.

"No..." she whispered.

"You know I have to," he replied, avoiding her gaze. Everything became so much harder when he looked into her big eyes. Her look, her beautiful figure were the only things that could influence his decision.

"No, please don't, don't do this to me..." she whispered again, her voice beginning to tremble. "It's not true, you don't have to do this. He's not your responsibility. We can live here, in peace. How much of him is left? And what will you do about it? How will you find him? What will you do then?" Her desperation grew with every sentence. Sergey didn't dare look her in the face. There was nothing in the world he would rather do than be with her. But there was something that overwhelmed that desire. He knew what would happen and he couldn't ignore it. He couldn't lie to himself.

"You heard the Duke, you know the Party's plan. You know what they want to do with him. I must stop it at all costs," he said with a slight sigh. " You know what he is and where he is being sent. For some reason, I can still sense him. So it won't be a big problem for me to find him a second time."

"And then what are you going to do? Stop him? Kill him? How can you kill someone who is already dead? You won't be able to hurt him with your axe, not even with your pistol," Aksinya snapped at him, her voice full of desperation. Sergey shook his head.

"No. No, how could I? The only thing I can try is to convince him to stop following his orders. There must be enough of his humanity left, somewhere at the bottom of his still beating heart. Somewhere hidden deep inside. He will be able to remember me, I firmly believe."

"Sergey... you... you will die... He will kill you," Aksinya said in a choked voice. Sergey came closer to her, took her dough-smeared hands in his and looked her straight in the eyes.

"No, I promise. He will not kill me. And I will come back when I am done with this," he told her, putting all the persuasion he could muster into those words. "I will leave before sunrise tomorrow."

"Your aunt..." Aksinya whispered.

"She mustn't find out before then. I've already written a farewell letter, I'll put it in the kitchen before I leave. Please don't worry and take good care of her. I'll contact you when I arrive," Sergey said in a quiet voice.

"This is such a long journey," she shook her head in disbelief. Her hands were ice-cold and hung motionless in his. She didn't know what to say anymore. The hope of convincing him to stay was fading by the second.

"I'll come back, I promise you. We'll meet again," he whispered.

"Stay with me. Please," she breathed barely audibly, biting her lower lip painfully as she hung her head.