Bravery Required

The road forked into three paths. They all looked so...normal. Annika couldn't tell any difference between them. She figured the path to Baba's hut would be terrifying, but each path was sunny and clear. She checked her pocket again. Ribbon, a strip of bacon, rolls, oil, and her poorly embroidered handkerchief.

Her aunt hadn't told her what to do with them. The only thing she did say was in order to face Baba and escape, bravery was required.

And that was the only thing Annika lacked.

Because of this, she didn't believe she would be escaping the Baba Yaga. And if she had to decide what to do with the items, then she would give them freely. Annika walked up to the birch tree next to the left path. She tied the long red ribbon around one of its branches.

"I'm sorry I'm not very good at knots," Annika said to the tree. "I hope the ends don't get tangled in your other branches, but the red does go very well with your bark."

She kept to the left path until the sun was close to the horizon.

The forest opened to a clearing with a jagged wooden fence and a house so tall and narrow it looked like an arrow. Howls ripped through the chilled forest. Frightened, Annika ran into the yard and called out to Baba. Instead, Baba's maid came out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Return home, quickly!"

Annika wanted to do so, but she shook her head. "My stepmother has sent me to fetch needle and thread to make myself a shift."

The ground trembled as if something large walked across it. The trees shook with each thud. Slowly, the heavy thumping grew closer until an old woman with thin gray hair and a large hooked nose came hopping out of the forest in a giant mortar, propelling herself with its pestle.

Annika stood frozen in place.

Baba hopped over the fence and stopped. She looked down her crooked nose at Annika. "What do we have here?" Baba asked.

Annika trembled. "I needle," she said. "I mean I need a needle! And—and thread for a, uh, for a shift, please."

"A shift, hm?" Baba cackled. "But of course! Go in the house and weave while you wait for me to fetch you a needle and some thread. Bring out my maid while you're at it, dear."

Annika nodded and scrambled through the doorway. The maid stepped out of the house. When had she retreated?

"Draw the dear a bath, hm?" Baba said. "I'm going to have her for dinner, and you know I like clean skin on my meals."

If Baba said anything after that, Annika didn't hear it. She shuffled over to the stool before the loom. Thoughts of death plagued her. Her hands trembled and turned cold. Maybe the fear had killed her already.

The maid came back in. Annika sprung from the stool and clung to her arms. "I don't have the bravery to escape," she cried. "Please help me. I don't know what to do! Please don't send me to the slaughter."

"I'll help you." The maid wiped Annika's tears.

From her pocket, Annika drew out her handkerchief and offered it to the maid. "It's not very pretty, but I made it with my hands. Please keep it as a thank you gift."

She gaped at Annika's gift. "You have given me more than anyone else has." She ushered Annika back to the stool, told her to weave as Baba had instructed, and left.

Annika swallowed down her fear and took to weaving. Not long after, a green-eyed black cat walked up to her. She paused her weaving and scratched the cat's head. "I don't suppose you know a way to get out."

"I do," he said. "I was sent to tell you"

She reached into her pocket, withdrew the strip of bacon, and gave it to the cat. "A thank you for delivering the message."

He took it happily. "Take the towel," he said. "Throw it down when Baba gets close and run. When she gets close again, throw down the hairbrush." With his message delivered, he padded away to the shadows and disappeared.

Annika hurried across the room to the cabinets. She tried opening the doors. They shrieked. "You poor things," Annika said. She drew the oil from her pocket and spent every drop making sure every hinge was well oiled. She grabbed the towel and brush and ran.

In the yard, black green-eyed dogs snarled at her. They snapped at her heels to drive her back through the doorway. "Please," she begged, " let me pass, and take these rolls as thanks." The dogs took the rolls and melted into the shadows.

Annika ran until her body ached. Just as she stopped, an enraged shriek tore through the forest. She kept running. The sun fell and Night rode past her.

The trees shook with every angry thud from Baba in her mortar. Bravery was the same as being kind, wasn't it? Annika could do kind. She put her ear to the ground and listened for Baba. When she appeared, Annika ran and threw the towel down behind her. A wide river spanned between her and Baba. After a while, she stopped again, put her ear to the ground, and waited. When Baba appeared, Annika threw the hairbrush down. A thick forest sprung up and cut Baba off from her.

She ran until she reached home. Once there, she spotted her father returning from his week-long trip to the city. They embraced, and everything about her adventure with Baba came tumbling out. Her stepmother disavowed Annika's story, but Annika's state was against her with Annika's torn clothes, dirty face, and messy hair.

Annika's father cast her stepmother out, and both he and Annika lived happily ever after.

Author's Note

This story was based on "The Baba Yaga" story from Russian Fairy Tales by W. R. S. Ralston. My story follows much the same pattern with the daughter (whom I gave the name Annika) tying the ribbon around the birch's branch, giving the maid the handkerchief, the cat the bacon, the hinges the oil, and the dogs the rolls with the towel becoming a river and the hairbrush a forest.

In the original, the aunt tells the daughter what to do to escape the Baba Yaga. Instead, I wanted the daughter to give them more to be kind than out of anything else and have the aunt basically tell her the tools will only carry Annika so far. She'll need bravery to make them actually work.

This Baba Yaga is the evil triplet of the three Baba Yagas. This one I've dubbed Baba. I didn't want to keep switching between Baba Yaga and Baba because I figured that would be too confusing.

Originally, I wanted to do more with the maid character and expand on the world building. However, finding myself roughly 300 words over and unable to pare it down while keeping the story I wanted, I cut that part of it out. The one thing I did keep was Annika tying the ribbon around the birch in the beginning rather than toward the end. In the original, the daughter does this to keep the branch from poking her eye out and letting the Baba Yaga get her. In my frametale, the detail is used to influence another story's main character's path choice. This will, in turn, influence the third protagonist's choice of path.

Bibliography

"Baba Yaga" from Russian folklore found in Russian Fairy Tales: A Choice Collection of Muscovite Folk-lore by W. R. S. Ralston. Found in The Project Gutenberg