Alexei resolutely closed his suitcase. Whatever awaited him in Kyrgyzstan, he had to get to the truth. He owed it to his grandfather. And, perhaps, to himself.
Outside the window, the moon momentarily appeared among the night clouds, casting a silvery light on the desk where the medallion had recently lain. In this light, outlines resembling the contours of a lake on an ancient map briefly emerged. And then the moon disappeared again, and the room plunged into semi-darkness.
The journey was beginning.
Bishkek greeted Alexei with heat and bright sunshine. After the damp St. Petersburg summer, it was actually pleasant. He emerged from the Manas Airport terminal, squinting in the bright light and wiping sweat from his forehead. People bustled around him, taxi drivers shouted their offers, and somewhere nearby two men argued in raised voices.
Alexei looked around for Dinara. They hadn't seen each other for three years—since their relationship had ended in a painful breakup. Back then, he had chosen a career in St. Petersburg, while she had opted to return to her homeland.
He spotted Dinara immediately, though she stood in the shade of a large tree. The same long dark hair with copper highlights in the sun, gathered in a casual ponytail, the same expressive almond-shaped eyes the color of dark amber, framed by thick eyelashes. The elegant line of her neck and stubborn chin gave her face both softness and determination. Only now she looked more composed, more… professional. She wore light-colored trousers, a loose sand-colored blouse, and a light scarf with turquoise patterns covering her shoulders.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, it seemed to Alexei that the past three years had vanished like smoke. But when he came closer, he saw restraint in her eyes.
"Hello, Alexei," she said in Russian. Her accent, barely noticeable during their student years, had now become slightly more pronounced. "How was your flight?"
"Hi, Dinara." He smiled, not knowing how to behave. Hug her? Shake her hand? In the end, he simply nodded. "The flight was fine, thank you. Just delayed a couple of hours in Almaty."
She nodded and gestured for him to follow her.
"My car is in the parking lot. I've booked a room for you in a hotel downtown. Inexpensive, but clean. I think you'll like it."
They walked side by side, maintaining their distance. The air between them seemed filled with unspoken words. Alexei searched for a way to start a conversation, but everything felt inappropriate or banal.
"You've changed a lot," Dinara said unexpectedly as they approached her car—a small blue Toyota. "You look… sterner."
Alexei smirked.
"And you're still the same," he replied.
It was a lie. She had changed. Become more confident, more reserved. During their student years, Dinara had been open and impulsive, always ready to argue and defend her point of view. Now there was a kind of inner strength and calmness about her that hadn't been there before.
They got into the car, and Dinara confidently steered out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for several minutes. Finally, Alexei couldn't stand it and asked:
"How is your grandfather? Is he still alive?"
"Yes, he's alive," Dinara nodded. "He's 84 now, but still a sturdy old man. Lives in a village near Issyk-Kul. Grows apples and keeps a bee farm."
