Once upon a time, not so long ago, these lands were dominated by cold and
ruled by famine. Snow covered the barren fields and the people grew gaunt as the
food grew scarce. It’s amazing, actually, what hunger does to people. What would
you do, snowed into your homes with nothing to eat? What could you do once you
feel the energy seep from your very bones but give yourself up to death? Some did
just that. They walked into the snow and never turned back. When we found them,
their lifeless bodies stiff and frozen, a small smile of relief as they escaped the
nightmare that plagued the land. But of course, these are the least remarkable of the
atrocities committed during the Starving Winter. Oh, sweet summer children,
huddle in and listen closely to a tale of hunger and despair.
During that Starving Winter, there were many deaths. Children, young
women, and eventually even young men all disappeared with hardly a trace. A shoe,
a ribbon, a toy, bloodied clothes were all that could be found of those that went
missing. Winter is hard, even for the wolves. The more superstitious faction of the
village did blame the wolves for these depressing deaths. They blamed the old witch,
Baba Yaga, who lived in the middle of the woods, secluded and alone. Families took
the winter especially hard. Children went hungry, babes often died before their
second moons. And the parents, the poor parents. How useless they must have felt!
Their babies dying, their children either starving or disappearing. What a heavy
burden for any to bear! Can you blame the parents for some of their actions? Some
mothers smothered their infants, returning the children to God before they could
feel the pain of the blasting winds and the gnawing of hunger on their empty bellies.
Some fathers simply abandoned their homes and were never seen again. All of these
horrible, unspeakable things and yet, there is one story that may interest you more
than any other.
The story begins, as most often do, with a family. This family—a mother, a
father, and their daughter and son—struggled greatly under the weight of the
winter. None of them ever had enough to eat. The children were often left alone for
days as their mother and father searched desperately for rabbits, deer, or any food
to bring to the table. Almost always they returned empty-handed. Now the children
were good, decent children. The boy, Aleksey, was clever—sometimes too clever for
his own good. The girl, Sasha, was immensely beautiful. Despite their children’s
goodness, the parents often bickered over what would become of their children.
None of the family members had had a good meal for over a month now. Even
turnips and potatoes were becoming a rarity down in the village market. Winter
would not relent; it held the village hostage. In their desperation and hunger, the
parents concocted a vile scheme.
What good is cleverness, what good is beauty to a starving man compared to
food? One cannot dine on intellect. Beauty feeds only the eyes. Without the two
children, the stores of food cached away by the mother and father might last them
throughout the winter. Before you gasp, no, these parents did not callously murder
their children. Their plan, one might argue, was a bit crueler. One day, the mother
and father invited their children out on one of their excursions. Snow fell
persistently as they set out. The family trekked through the woods together and the
deeper they went the harder and faster that the snow fell. The snow fell so hard and
so fast that the children could hardly make footprints before they were rendered
almost invisible by the fresh snow. Here, in the middle of a snowstorm, in the middle
of the woods, mother and father alike abandoned their children.
The children desperately attempted to retrace their steps. They called out
into the blizzard, “MOTHER! FATHER!” but all to no avail. Aleksey hugged Sasha to
his side as they knelt and cried over their saddening fate. They were sure they
would freeze to death before their parents ever found them. Soon the sky began to
darken as even the sun abandoned the young children. Just as they had begun to
accept their deaths, Sasha turned to her brother. “Do you smell that Aleksey” she
whispered. Aleksey took a deep whiff of the air. There, hiding amidst the cold air, he
smelt it. “It smells like rassolnik… No wait, it smells like pilemeni…” The children
stood and followed their noses to the source of the delicious smells. Right before the
final darkness set in, the children saw it. The infamous hut stood on chicken legs. A
spindly staircase led to a heavy wooden door. Their noses did not betray them; the
mouth-watering smells emerged from Baba Yaga’s hut.
Before Aleksey could even react, Sasha’s little fist reached out to knock upon
the witch’s door. Aleksey swiftly caught his sister’s wrist before any contact could be
made. Her big, beautifully blue eyes began to water and the black lashes that
rimmed them dampened. “Aleksey, I am just so hungry” little Sasha cried. Moved by
his little sister’s beauty, Aleksey overcame his better judgment and he himself
knocked.
Warmth and the enticing odors of home cooking spilled forth from the
threshold. And there she stood. Her enormous girth almost filled the doorway.
Although extremely robust, she was far from ugly. Tales spun about the witch
mentioned a hooked nose, warts, a face wrinkled with age but the face that Aleksey
and Sasha looked at had none of these characteristics. Baba Yaga might have even
been called beautiful for her age and weight. Her white-blonde hair was tucked
neatly into a braid, her eyes—piercing and blue as ice—stared at the abandoned
children at her doorstep. “Do you not see that I have taken great pains to be alone?”
the witch asked calmly. Sasha bravely stepped forth, “Bab—Ma’am, we have lost our
father and mother in the snow storm. Could you please let us in to warm our bones
and give us but a morsel to eat?” Aleksey quickly and thoughtfully added, “We will
help you with whatever tasks you need! My sister is more than just a pretty face, she
can help you in the kitchen and I can do any heavy work unsuited for ladies”. Moved
by the little one’s beauty and interested by the intelligence of the elder, the witch’s
rosebud lips pulled into a smirk. “All right, small ones. Come in and eat your fill,
tomorrow you shall help me with whatever I ask you to help me with.”
Hand in hand, Aleksey and Sasha entered the witch’s hut. Through some
magic, the hut was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. A
crackling fireplace, a large stove, and three ovens warmed the witch’s home
excellently. Each of the ovens was occupied with baking breads, rising cakes and the
like. The stovetop was similarly cluttered with pots and pans boiling soups and
frying meats. The children sat at the witch’s table while she served them dish after
dish. The children began with the hearty rassolnik, moved on to the borscht, ate a
fair amount of piroshky and finally ended their meal with an apple sharlotka and
kvass. Their bellies full and their bodies warm, the children fell into a deep,
comfortable sleep.
Ah, so you think you know this tale? You think that at this point the witch
reveals her true intention by cooking and eating those sweet, sweet children. Bah,
you are foolish to think that is how this story goes. Those children had the best time
of their lives in that hut. The following morning, they awoke peacefully and set to
their chores. For little Sasha, this included cleaning the kitchen and preparing all the
dough, vegetables, fruits and herbs that Baba Yaga required for her dishes and her
magic. Aleksey was sent out to tend to Baba Yaga’s animals and to split the wood
which fed the fires in the hut. By the late afternoon, Baba would be in the kitchen
cooking up food and magic together with the children. After the end of their second
meal, the children squirmed in their seats. “Was the food not to your liking, small
ones?” the witch inquired. “Baba Yaga… we want to find our parents. We want to go
home” Sasha murmured timidly, fearful of the witch’s rage. Instead of rage, the
children saw only confusion in the witch’s icy-blue eyes. “But you have all that you
need and all the food you can eat here with me. If you want to leave, I shall not stop
you. But your departure would sadden me greatly” the witch replied. Aleksey and
Sasha looked at one another and agreed, they would stay one more day with the
witch. The next day, after the chores, the magic and the food were all done Aleksey
said, “Baba Yaga, we want to go home. We need to find our parents”. Again the witch
repeated, “But you have all that you need and all the food you can eat here with me.
If you want to leave, I shall not stop you. But your departure would sadden me
greatly”. Once more the children thought to stay one more day, and be a help to the
woman who had shown them such immense kindness. By the end of the third day,
Sasha told the witch, “Baba Yaga… we want to find our parents. We want to go
home”. Once more the witch replied, “But you have all that you need and all the food
you can eat here with me. If you want to leave, I shall not stop you. But your
departure would sadden me greatly”. The twins realized there was no way to leave
their hostess without demonstrating great disrespect. They also came to the
realization that the witch spoke truly. Here they had all the food they could ever
want; it would be difficult to eat a watery soup with slivers of turnip and potato.
Here they were becoming something more than they ever could have in their village.
Aleksey would probably end up a woodsman and Sasha of course would make a
beautiful bride to a rich merchant or some lesser nobleman if they returned now.
Here, Baba Yaga taught them both the secrets and skills for the arcane art of magic.
They felt traitorous to leave their parents behind, but Aleksey and Sasha finally
acknowledged that they were better off with the witch for the time being.
Three months went by. Three months of sleet, snow and heavy rains but the
children looked like they had never known of hunger in their lives. They were
healthy, strong and powerful—they had learned much in their time with the witch.
Finally, at the end of that third month, winter began to weaken. In the mornings a
watery sunrise greeted the land and promised a beautiful spring. When the snows
began to thaw, the children made their decision. They’d leave the comfort,
mentoring and the safety the witch provided. They’d find what had become of their
parents. Baba Yaga hugged little Sasha and bestowed upon her a gift. “You must be
more like your brother, Sasha,” the witch crooned “here are the eyes of an owl so
that you may see all with unclouded judgment”. Next Baba Yaga turned to Aleksey,
“You boy are clever enough. Here is something to give you strength when you need
it” she said, handing him a beautiful silver knife. The children thanked the witch
from the bottom of their hearts; the kindness she had shown them was a rare
treasure in and of itself.
With heavy hearts the children began their trek back to the village. A magical
spell, in addition to the melting snow, helped them find their way back home. Their
return was not a happy one. The village appeared empty. The children entered the
first home they saw only to find complete and utter desolation inside. Everything
was thrown about—what little furnishings these people possessed were mere
splinters now. As if this weren’t enough, there was also an immense amount of
blood splatted on the walls, spilled on the ground and even speckled on the ceiling.
Each home that the children entered shared a similar scene. Slowly they made their
way to the end of the village, where their family home stood. However, here the
children did not find signs of a struggle. The home was clean and neat, the stove
warm as a cauldron of soup bubbled away. Sasha lifted the lid of cauldron and her
new owl-wise eyes filled with tears. Inside the pot was none other than a human
hand. Her owl-wise eyes brought her clarity. Her parents were monsters. They were
the wolves that had plagued the village and all the surrounding villages. The
disappearances of children, young women, weak men before the snow set in were
all her parents work. Sasha cried as she explained the dark truth to Aleksey. A
floorboard creaked as a dark presence filled the threshold. The children turned to
face two enormous black wolves.
The wolves eyes sparked with recognition but their teeth were bared all the
same. From the mouth of a she-wolf a growl emerged that sounded like words, “You
look better fed than we left you. We did not want to eat you; you were our children
so we thought to leave you to die. But now… Your plump little bellies will make a
delicious meal. We haven’t eaten well since the last month. Mostly we’ve been
rationing. But you should last us into the full blossoming of spring.” And so the she-
wolf and her mate lunged at the children. Sasha cleverly grabbed the pot of boiling
water from the stove and threw it in the face of the wolf. Aleksey summoned all his
strength and all his courage and waited. The she-wolf pounced, her jagged claws
extended and yellowed teeth dripping drool. At the final moment Aleksey threw his
whole weight into the wolf, driving the shimmering silver blade into her heart.
Dejected and alone, the two children wandered until they found their way
back to Baba Yaga’s hut. Baba Yaga welcomed them back with no questions. Under
her tutelage they grew to be strong and powerful sorcerers. After many years, they
left the witch’s hut in search of their own place. Together these children attempt
magic that even Baba Yaga would shiver at. They have maintained their youth and
have dedicated their lives to defending children everywhere. Now come, the
piroshkies are finished baking. Be good children like Aleksey and Sasha—smart and
beautiful, strong and kind—and magic may just find its way to you.
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