Fairytale retellings & Myths Reimagined

The sword of the lost char

Original myth: vampire Wurdulac & the firebird

I stepped out of my hut, pulling closer the furs around my neck and face. We had yet another hard winter here at the Kuratovo plains, where the mountains of Broken Tooth and Baba Nove rose at the horizon eerie and dangerous. The sky had just started to lighten and the neighs of the horses behind my home was a welcoming sound.

My family was the only one who tended the herds of wild horses. My village was small yet as we worked all together, there was still food on the Common Table, the tent which was located at the center of our community. And horses these days could catch nice.

After pulling my hood up, I hoisted the basket with the clothing on one arm and headed to the stables. They were some of the few buildings which were made of wood; none of the men was daring to enter the black forest at the east. Stories of Baba Yaga, the old spirit woman who scared off the people, and not only children, were still told under hushed breaths and not when it was windy. No one dared to shout.

The wind had a strange voice here. I could feel it in my bones, at the rush of it around my golden hair and at the sweet taste it left on my lips. My mother used to tell me that girls with my eyes, golden like the sunlight were destined for great things. Too bad I never learned what she meant.

The plague took her along with my baby sister because our mayor was too proud to pass the 'Sword', the narrow path between the mountains and bring back help.

"Tatiana!"

I turned around. Dmitri the ten years old son of the baker, ran towards me. He was one of the few who liked my company. His small frame, black hair and adorable smile could even make Slovna, the old baba around the corner, smile. "Hello Dmitri!"

"This is heavy, let me help." And he pulled the basket from my arm leveling it between us.

"Why are you up so early Dmitri?"

"Papa is already working on the bakery and Mama has gone to the mayor's. We need more flour and a doctor for the cows."

"I believe the right term is 'vet'."

"Da." He said boringly. Not many of the kids were interested in learning how to write and read. My mother Sasha used to be the teacher of the village's children.

My father Petrov had met her on one of his trips to the towns and they had fallen in love. I never understood why my mother had chosen this life, where superstitions were dictating at some point the ways of the living, but after seeing the sun rising, the wind moving around me I was sure that I loved this life too.

"Will you feed the horses today Tania?"

"I will try and make them warm at first. After I will move the hay and clean the stables. Do you want to help?"

"I would love too but I heard that a merchant will come." Dmitri smiled apologetically and I shrugged. I knew that travelers were rare and sometimes we would trade ale and fur for some delicacies, like chocolate. Papa used to travel to the cities and bring back to Mama, Irene and I sweets and dresses.

Now he prefers vodka more than the work at the stables or his daughter's life.

"Ok, go quickly back to the bakery. They don't want you to be around me anyway."

"Why?" the boy asked innocently.

I smirked and pulled my hood up. "Because I like eating children!" I drawled and ran after Dmitri who laughed and made a turn, running across the street. My smile faded as I picked up the basket again and pushed the double doors of the stables.