On July 27, 1053, in the year of our Lord, on a snowy and windy night, Yaroslav, who had ruled Kievan Rus' for 36 years, passed away at the age of 75.
The day before his death, the Great Duke, as if sensing his impending demise, went to the Cave Monastery on the outskirts of Kiev.
And on the second day, which was today, the news of the Great Duke's passing arrived.
For this era, 75 was a very advanced age, but his death still cast a shadow of sorrow over Kiev, even after the terrifying purge that had frightened everyone.
For the citizens of Kiev, they had enjoyed the Great Duke's benevolence for decades.
Under Yaroslav's rule, Kiev achieved further prosperity, its urban area greatly expanded, and the magnificent Saint Sophia Cathedral was built within the city; such benevolence could not help but be missed.
As for Yaroslav's sons and grandsons, while they grieved the passing of this patriarch, they also eagerly awaited this moment, as it heralded the impending redistribution of the Kievan Rus' lands.
After the monks of the Cave Monastery prepared the Great Duke's remains, they placed him on a sled, which would be transported to Kiev by church personnel dispatched from Kiev.
The descendants of Rurik naturally went in person to escort the patriarch's sled; on this day, the Princes of Rurik all wore simple black clothes and joined the escort procession, and Prince Rostislav was naturally among them.
And joining the escort were not only Yaroslav's sons and grandsons but also many of his subjects; many people spontaneously came to bid farewell to the Great Duke who had ruled Kievan Rus' for 36 years, because many had become prosperous under Yaroslav's reign and achieved success due to his policies.
Even those who held grudges against Yaroslav put aside their hatred at this moment; all the past glory and power had now vanished, and even those who clung to hatred would feel helpless and melancholic, and it was this melancholy that led them to join the Great Duke's funeral procession.
On the day of Yaroslav's funeral, the entire sky was gloomy and unpleasant, as if in response to the moment, a desolate west wind occasionally blew, the Rurik Dynasty's trident fluttered in the wind, but then limply draped against the flagpole.
The church priests sang the prescribed hymns, accompanied by sounds of weeping; these were tears for the Great Duke's passing, as the Great Duke Rostislav had bestowed his grace upon this land for decades, so these tears were perfectly normal.
The most intense weeping came from Yaroslav's sons and grandsons; Prince Rostislav saw his eldest uncle in tears, his face filled with sorrow and pain, while his second uncle, though shedding few tears, everyone could see his sadness, and as for his third uncle, he was already so overcome with grief that he had to be supported by his personal guards.
As for Yaroslav's grandsons, besides Prince Rostislav, they were all too young; the slightly older ones just cried along with the crowd in a daze, while the younger ones curiously looked around with their eyes, and if their parents hadn't held their hands tightly, they would have been running all over the place.
Prince Rostislav's heart was also filled with sadness at this moment; Yaroslav, as an elder, was undoubtedly qualified; his love for each of his children and grandchildren was the same, and his grandfather's care and encouragement had helped him through a very difficult period, for which Prince Rostislav was undoubtedly grateful.
And in his memory, his grandfather was always so kind and gentle.
After the members of the Rurik Dynasty, the most sorrowful were the Great Duke's personal guards; for these warriors, Yaroslav's passing meant the loss of the master who had provided them with generous treatment, the loss of the just and benevolent ruler, and their future, therefore, became turbulent, uncertain of where it would lead.
However, some had already found new patrons, as it was quite normal for the personal guards to pledge allegiance to his sons and grandsons after the Great Duke's passing.
Further back were the people of Kievan Rus', mostly respectable citizens of Kiev; this was a generation that had prospered under Yaroslav's rule, and they were naturally immensely grateful to Yaroslav.
The black funeral procession thus traversed the snow-covered land, constantly attracting people drawn by the grand procession, and as they approached Kiev, more and more people gathered; although there were many people gathered, no one caused trouble or mischief, as everyone knew this was an immensely solemn moment.
Accompanied by a shining golden light, Kiev's Golden Gate appeared before everyone's eyes, the light emanating from the spires of the churches atop the Golden Gate.
Metropolitan Ilarion and the church hierarchy had been waiting here for a long time, and further back were the citizens of Kiev; Yaroslav was leaving, and everyone wanted to come out and see him off.
The Metropolitan naturally took over command of the procession, leading them towards the Saint Sophia Cathedral built by Yaroslav, where the ruler who had governed Kievan Rus' for 36 years would find his rest.
The streets of Kiev had been completely cleared; the once bustling streets were now empty, with people crowded on both sides of the road, waiting for the sled carrying the Great Duke's body to pass.
As the funeral procession passed, the watching citizens occasionally let out cries of weeping; Yaroslav was not a man of battle, but he was a very good ruler, and the people had an excellent impression of him, many remembering his kindness—even after the great purge.
Passing through the sorrowful streets, through the square where bloody battles with pagans had once taken place, they arrived at the site where Yaroslav had decisively defeated the Pecheneg invaders; here stood the Saint Sophia Cathedral.
Izyaslav, Sviatoslav, Vsevolod, and Prince Rostislav, the four of them together lifted Yaroslav's body and carried it into the sacred hall of Saint Sophia.
The marble sarcophagus had been prepared for a long time, ordered by Yaroslav as soon as he felt his time was short; engraved on the marble was the symbol of Christ's suffering, representing Yaroslav's supreme faith in God.
Inside the marble sarcophagus, velvet and silk were used as padding; these expensive silk fabrics were buried with the Great Duke Rostislav; in daily life, they were incredibly expensive luxuries, but now they were merely the Great Duke Rostislav's burial items.
Next, the Great Duke was also placed inside by his sons and grandsons.
Before the stone coffin was closed, Prince Rostislav took one last look at his grandfather.
The Great Duke Rostislav was dressed in a precious purple robe, as per the Great Duke's instructions; it seemed his grandfather still yearned for the imperial capital, his hair and beard meticulously groomed, and his entire person still exuded dignity.
Not only was Prince Rostislav watching, but his uncles were also watching, and everyone involuntarily shed tears.
At this moment, all the conspiracies, all the calculations, all the schemes were a thing of the past; there was only the sorrow of descendants for the passing of a benevolent patriarch.