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Trust me, I am not in the best shape right now, but I decided I had to show up here and take the knife away from you.

They want to take Ustina and the child away to the potter’s field, said Arseny. And they do not understand at all that the dead can be resurrected in no time at all.

The knife fell from his hand into the elder’s extended hand.

Give them these bodies since this has nothing to do with the bodies, said the elder. If you place them in a normal grave, then they—and he pointed Arseny’s knife at the crowd—will dig them up during the very next dry spell. You will dig them up, am I right, you heathens? he asked those standing round, and they cast their eyes down. They will dig them up, you can count on it. As far as resurrection and the saving of the souls of God’s deceased servantes, well, I’ll present that information to you, as they say, tête-à-tête.

The elder signaled to the monk to wait outside a bit. He took Arseny by the arm and Arseny immediately slackened. As they walked up the stairs to the front door, the elder’s foot slipped several times on the steps. Those who were standing saw that and began weeping. It had been revealed to them that the elder’s resolute spirit was in irreconcilable contradiction with the decrepitude of his body. They knew how things like this ended. The cart noiselessly began moving. Elder Nikandr and Arseny disappeared inside the doorway.

First I will speak about death, said the elder, and then, if things work out, about life.

He sat on the bench and indicated the place next to him. After Arseny had sat down, the elder pressed his hands against the bench and lowered his head. He spoke without looking at Arseny.

I know you are dreaming about death. You are thinking death now possesses everything you held dear. But you are wrong. Death does not possess Ustina. Death is only carrying her to Him Who will administer justice over her. And thus, even if you decide now to give yourself to Death, you will not be united with Ustina. Now, about life. You think life has nothing of consequence left for you and you see no purpose in it. But it is precisely at this time in your life that the greatest purpose has revealed itself.

The elder turned to Arseny. Arseny stared straight ahead, unblinking. His palms were lying on his knees. A fly crawled along his cheek. The elder shooed away the fly, took Arseny by the chin, and turned his face toward him.

I will not pity you: you are to blame for her bodily death. You are also to blame that her soul may perish. I should have said that beyond the grave it is already too late to save her life, but you know what, I will not say that. Because there is no already where she is now. And there is no still. And there is no time, though there is God’s eternal mercy, we trust in His mercy. But mercy should be a reward for effort. (The elder had a coughing spell. He covered his mouth with his hand and the cough puffed out his cheeks as it tried to escape.) The whole point is that the soul is helpless after leaving the body. It can only act in a bodily way. We are only saved, after all, in earthly life.

Arseny’s eyes were dry, as before:

But I took away her earthly life.

The elder looked calmly at Arseny:

So then give her your own.

But is it really possible for me to live instead of her?

If approached from the proper perspective, yes. Love made you and Ustina a united whole, which means a part of Ustina is still here. It is you.

The other monk knocked, entered, and gave the elder a saucer with burning coals. The elder sprinkled them in the stove. He tossed some twigs on top and laid several logs on them. An instant later, fire was licking at the logs. The elder’s pale face turned pink.

Christofer advised you to enter the monastery. I am asking myself why you did not obey him and I cannot find an answer… (He approached Arseny.) Well, goodbye, or something, because this is our last meeting. As circumstances would have it, my life will cease very soon. If I am not confusing things, it will occur on December 27. At midday or so.

The elder embraced Arseny and headed toward the door. He turned on the threshold.

You have a difficult journey, for the story of your love is only beginning. Everything, O Arseny, will now depend on the strength of your love. And, of course, on the strength of your prayers, too.

Winter that year turned out to be unlike any other winter. It was neither frosty nor snowy. It was foggy and misty, not even like winter but like late autumn. If snow fell, it mixed with rain. It was clear to the population that this sort of snow could not live in this world. It melted before reaching the ground and brought joy to nobody. People wearied of winter as soon as it had a chance to begin. They saw a sinister portent in what was happening with the weather. And it proved true.

The day after Christmas, Elder Nikandr slepte. At the end of Christmas vespers he announced to the brethren that he intended to celebrate his birthday, on the twenty-seventh day of the month of Decembre. The elder monk had never celebrated his birthdays and the intrigued brethren gathered at his cell at the set time.

This is a birthday for eternity, he explained from a wooden sleeping bench in the corner. His arms were crossed on his chest.

The brothers began sobbing when they grasped what was happening.

I saye unto you: sob not for me, for thys day I wyll loke upon the face of my Lord. I saye unto you, too, O Lord, I commit my spirite to Thy hands, have mercy upon me and give me lyfe eternall. Amen.

Amen, repeated those who had gathered, as they watched Elder Nikandr’s soul leave his body.

Their eyes dried and their faces lit up. The monastery filled with people from the surrounding area who expected miracles, for a newly departed holy man contains a special power. And they received according to their faith.

Meanwhile, winter still had not really begun. The roads were totally soggy and the rivers had not frozen over.

Getting from point A to point B, they wailed in the quarter, either seems impossible or is overly complicated. We are practically deprived of roads, they said, something we did not have before now, either, in the true sense of the word.

But even the absence of roads did not prevent the spread of the primary misfortune of the time: the pestilence. The disease was first discovered in Belozersk, the princedom’s primary city. From there it slowly moved to the southeast. It captured village after village like a hostile army, behaving ruthlessly in the occupied territory.

Everyone remained in place because there was nowhere to escape the disease. Even overcoming the washed-out roads did not necessarily lead to salvation. According to rumors that reached the residents of Belozersk, the weather was raw in all Rus’, which meant outbreaks of the pestilence could flare up anywhere. After getting started in autumn, as often happens, the disease could not be killed by frost during the winter because winter never set in.

The residents of Rukina Quarter were already worried about the pestilence, though it had not yet reached the quarter. Foreseeing the arrival of the pestilence, they decided to get advice from Arseny. The changes in Arseny had frightened residents of the quarter and at first they did not want to go to him. In light of the impending danger, however, they were left with no choice. They found Christofer’s house empty when they arrived.

The door was not closed and they made their way in unimpeded. Despite complete order, it was obvious nobody lived in the house any longer. More accurately, it was an unlived-in order. The villagers touched the stove, which turned out to be completely cold. There was not even the memory of warmth inside, something that is unmistakable in stoves that have been recently stoked. The villagers searched to see if Arseny had left a note anywhere. But there was no note, either. Dreading the very worst, they peered under the benches, looked around the outbuildings, and even took a walk though the cemetery that abutted the house. The villagers found no traces whatsoever of Arseny, dead or alive. It could happen that he had melted away, for wax melteth before the fire, they thought. More accurately, they simply did not know what to think.