☆𝑪𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑨𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒂☆

-=₪۩۞۩₪=𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓=₪۩۞۩₪=-

Part 3 of the story

Taekjoo's pov

„Let’s just read the letters. And I’ll send the finger bones for autopsy tomorrow.“ He carefully untied the red thread binding the stack of envelopes and handed me the topmost one.
The envelope was coated in a layer of dust that clung stubbornly to its coarse, grainy paper, suggesting it had been untouched for years.
I noticed, with a hint of relief, that it wasn’t sealed, almost as if the writer had intended for its contents to eventually be discovered by someone, anyone willing to read them. Turning it over, I saw an inscription on the back, written in elegant black ink. The letters flowed together in beautiful cursive, the Russian words stark against the faded paper:

„Для моего народа, ибо я согрешил.“

(„For my people, for I have sinned.“)

I read the words aloud, feeling a chill run down my spine as the meaning sank in. Slowly lowering the envelope, I glanced at my friend, confusion and curiosity mingling on my face. He met my gaze with the same puzzled look, both of us grasping for understanding in the eerie silence of the room.

„Is this… Could this be Yevgeny?“ I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the name heavy with the weight of rumors and legends.

He nodded, a grim expression settling on his face. „You bet.“

I opened the envelope. It had hidden three full pages neatly folded, written in Russian language. I picked the first page before unfolding it, and with a sigh of anticipation, I started reading it:

I, Yevgeny Bogdanov, the youngest scion of the venerable House of Bogdanov, am a sinner of the gravest kind. In a moment of abject weakness, I turned my back on the sacred duties bestowed upon me as the Lord of Kinonyoka.
I allowed my base desires for another man to profane this land, to sully its unblemished name. And now, four months after succumbing to this forbidden temptation, I stand at the very gates of God, my soul laid bare, crying out for a mercy I scarcely deserve. The weight of my transgressions is immense, and though I am fully conscious of the retribution that surely awaits me in the he after, I find myself driven by the need to confess-to lay bare my sins for the world to witness before I am taken from it.

It was four moons ago that I was graced by the presence of my childhood companion and closest confidant, Caesar Sergeyev. He was preparing to embark on a journey to Moscow, called to the Tsar’s court to serve as the youngest agricultural lawyer, a prestigious appointment secured after the untimely passing of his father.
Caesar was always destined for greatness, he was a man who would be immortalized in the annals of history, while I could only hope that history might glance upon me with a kindlier eye.
On the morn of his arrival, we partook in our favoured pastime-hunting, a tradition we had upheld since boyhood. It was our shared passion, one that allowed us to momentarily shed the burdens of our respective stations. I, ever the more adept of the two, took great pride in my skill.
We journeyed to the western slopes of the Kinonyoka Mountain, a region known for its abundant game and treacherous terrain. For three days and nights, we roamed the lush forest, greened because of spring, our spirits lightened by the thrill of the chase and the camaraderie we had always shared.

On the final day, as the first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy of trees, I spied a magnificent deer. The creature moved with an elegance that belied its size, and in an instant, my hunter's instincts took over.
I broke away from the trail, my focus solely on my quarry as it bounded deeper into the forest. Had I possessed even an inkling of what awaited me, I would have never pursued that deer, for it was not the only temptation that lay within the forest's embrace.