Fire Within

It was the middle of summer, but Vasilisa was cold inside. She convinced herself it was the dread of seeking Baba Yaga. Her stepsisters had told her to follow the path. Neither had mentioned anything about it branching.

Horse hooves had churned the path's dirt to the right. A birch tree hung its branches over the left path. A red thread snagged on a twig flashed in the moonlight when the wind blew. The branches looked ready to poke her eye out.

"Middle it is."

The path wound back and forth. Vasilisa saw the rest through the trees but never sought the shortcut for fear the path would disappear. She walked the rest of the night and the following day. A rider dressed in red on a red horse barreled past her, and the sun slipped below the horizon. A hut's wide, low roof peeked between the trees soon after.

The chill in her chest worsened. Her lungs ached. The dense forest opened up to a clearing.

Vasilisa cut her shriek off into a half-choked yell.

A fence fashioned from skeletons tied to spikes stood guard around the squat hut. Fire shined from their empty sockets, washing the clearing in bright yellow light. The skeleton gate was made of skeletal hands holding fleshy feet together. Instead of a lock, there was a mouth outfitted with long sharp teeth.

Vasilisa couldn't do this. The cold numbed her hands and feet. A faint and steady back-and-forth swishing permeated the forest. It was persistent. And growing louder. She scrambled to the fence and climbed over it. She hid behind a ribcage.

An old woman with a large beak-like nose and sharp teeth glided into the clearing on a large broom. She stepped off, and the broom swooped up and came to a rest in her hand. The end of her nose twitched.

"I smell you," Yaga called. "Come out and talk! Unless you would rather we revert to the way of animals where I hunt you down without letting you speak a word in defense?" Her pointed teeth gleamed. "Your choice, hey?"

Vasilisa poked her head up from behind the fence. "My stepsisters sent me to get fire from you," she squeaked.

Yaga tilted her head and gazed at Vasilisa contemplatively. A slow grin spread across her gaunt face. "What is your name?"

She hesitated but gave her real name.

"Vasilisa, you will stay and work, and when you are done, I will give you fire."

Vasilisa nodded. Yaga opened the gate with a spell and ushered Vasilisa into the hut. Before they lay down for bed, Yaga informed her of the chores to be done the following day.

"If you don't get everything done, I will eat you up," Yaga threatened.

When Vasilisa awoke, the sun had not yet risen. Yaga stood by the window, ready for the day. The rider in red on a red horse appeared. He passed the cottage, and the sun rose. Yaga called her broom to her and left.

"Clean the yard, sweep the room, prepare dinner, do the laundry, collect and sift 160 acres of oats from the fields," Vasilisa repeated. How was she to get everything done? A thin crack of warmth ran through her chest.

Not all was lost.

Vasilisa stepped into the yard. "I have fed and cared for you," she called to the birds. "Please help me with this task." The birds, remembering her kindnesses, offered their help. While they took care of the oats, she saw to the rest.

The red rider on the red horse passed again at the end of the day, and Yaga followed soon after with her broom sweeping behind her. "You've gotten everything done," she said in surprise.

They ate dinner, and Yaga gave her a new set of tasks followed by, "If you don't get everything done, I will eat you up!"

The next day, Vasilisa once again succeeded.

And so the days went like this. Both fell into a comfortable routine and were content. Every night, before they slept, Yaga would tell Vasilisa in a gruff, teasing voice, "If you don't get everything done, I will eat you up."

One night, after dinner, Yaga broke their routine. "You may ask me one question, Vasilisushka, but only one, hey?"

"Hm, who is the red rider I see every day?"

"He is the red sun," Yaga said. "My faithful servant for many centuries." Silence settled over them. "Why don't you ask more?"

"The answer was enough. As you say, 'too knowing is too old.' " Vasilisa smiled, then sighed. "But truthfully...I want to learn more. I've seen you fly and perform magic. Your servant is the sun. I want to learn what you know, Yaga."

Yaga stood silently and motioned for Vasilisa to follow. They came to the fence. Yaga took a skull and extinguished its fire. "Light it."

Vasilisa took the skull with apprehension. "I can't do it," she said. "I don't know how."

"Spark it with the fire from within."

"I have no fire within me, Yaga." Vasilisa sniffed. "I am cold inside."

"Are you now, Vasilisushka?" Yaga looked over her nose at her and raised an eyebrow.

The realization washed over Vasilisa. The months spent with Yaga had kindled in her the same heat in her chest she had held in childhood. The warmth grew.

A flame in the skull flickered to life.

Vasilisa whooped and laughed. "Please, I know I can learn more."

Yaga took the skull back and affixed it to a staff which she returned to Vasilisa. "You're not ready, Vasilisushka. Conquer your past. Then come back, hey?"

Vasilisa nodded and left to return home. The skull's fire, her fire, lit the way.

And this time, when Vasilisa stepped on the path, it was straight and clear. And this time, her chest was alight with inner fire.

Author's Note

This story is based on "Vasilisa the Fair" from Russian Folk-Tales by Leonard A. Magnus. In truth, I only wrote on about the first half of the story. There's a lot more that takes place in the story. The part that I did include, I wanted to keep the fundamentals of. Those are Vasilisa being sent by her wicked stepsisters (on behalf of the wicked stepmother) to get fire from Baba Yaga. In the original story, there's a doll who helps Vasilisa complete all her tasks. I took this away. I wanted Vasilisa to succeed relatively on her own by her merit and inner-strength (or inner-fire, you could say). I also took it away because the type of personality Vasilisa takes on in its absence is the kind I think Yaga would grow very fond of. In the original, it's the doll who calls Vasilisa "Vasilisushka." I changed it to Yaga's form of endearment to better suit the story.

This story is quite different than "Bravery Required." I focused more on a single part and aspect rather than condensing the story as a whole. I also played around a lot more with this story than the afore mentioned one. Despite this, I don't think I would change the first story because, in my eyes, it's exactly what it needs to be for my frametale as a whole.

I'm also writing these, intentionally, out of order. A side reason is because Yaga would love to cause that little bit of trouble. The main reason is because I want to foster curiosity in the reader. In the first story, the right path was smooth, and the birch had a ribbon not just a thread. I want the reader to ask, "What happened?" I want that curiosity to propel them to the end and to my third story.

Bibliography

"Vasilisa the Fair" from Russian folklore in Russian Folk-Tales (Translated from the Russian) by Leonard A. Magnus LL. B.. Found in Hathi Trust Digital Library