Well, hello and thank you for clicking on this story. I hope you will like it. It is based on the stories of Tsarevich Ivan, archetypal hero from Russian folklore. Plot of this story is what if all tales about Ivan are about same person? If tales constantly repeat, and some characters are forced to live same horrible lives over and over ?

'' O Great Gray Wolf, please allow me to bury my children and my wife!''

Wolf raised his ears on instinct, and looked up to sky. Crow was circling around him, wailing whole time. Goosebumps traveled through his body, raising his fur till it was like needles. Something bad happened- crow agreed to bring him Waters of Life and Water of Death, and they would heal and revive both crow's family and Wolf's Ivan. yet it was asking to take bodies for burial.
'' Have you brought me Water of Life and Water of Death, as we agreed?''

Crow, which settled on branches of tall pine tree, raised it's head and cawed and moaned.
'' Oh noble and Great Gray Wolf, I tried but I couldn't bring you waters! I traveled beyond seven mountains and seven seas, and traveled path which would wear out three pairs of iron shoes, break three iron sticks and make you eat three loaves of stone bread, till I arrived in Thrice-Nine kingdom, in Iron Forest. Trees barred my way, but I managed to enter it. I escaped beasts and нечисть, and hid from eyes of Riders! But when I came to Well of Life and Death, I couldn't pass, for the Dragon Choda-Yoda blocked my way. I pleaded, but he said that Great Crone forbid anybody to take Waters, and if somebody needs them, they need to bargain with her!''

Earlier, Wolf feared to go to woods to answer nature's call ( he would never do it here, so near Ivan-or what remained of him. It would be disrespectful if he was alive, and now that he was dead and Elena missing thanks to him!), in case some other animal tried to feast on remains. now he was grateful he did, for if not, he would have surely soiled himself in fear.

Choda-Yoda was no mere flying lizard, he wasn't even Dragon, but The Dragon, one from whom all others-wyvern, zmei, aždahas, alas and zduhac and rest came from. He was like Sun to candles of rest of dragons. But that wasn't what terrified him most. Oh no.

It was fact that She, Little Grandmother, Witch of Bony Legs and Iron Teeth, Grand-Aunt of All Witches, wished to keep Waters off-limits. Though Iron Forest- oldest, first and final reservoir of magic, which would continue to exist even when all others disappear- was officially place of anarchy, where none held throne, everybody knew who held final say over all beings and places in forest. It was Her, the terrifying cannibal of never ending hunger, who knew answers to all of world's questions and then some. While all other denizens of Forest kept to their territories ( Even Leshy, who embodied Forest) her hut on chicken legs moved wherever crone wished, from warrens and borrows of small things that only live to eat and be eaten, to grand castles of Kings and Queens of seas and mountains and skies and stars. And none dared to complain, for she would know, and come upon them and eat them like chickens. Going to her, with gifts and manners and nothing but pure respect was risky and you were likely to end in her cauldron as stew( as it happened, he bitterly recalled, to his youngest brother, third child of family, who went to crone in search of aid in freeing their sister from Underworld. Messenger came to them, and said that their brother's flesh was now stew and his bones part of fence. For three years afterwards their land was locked in ice and snow, and thousand children disappeared). But going against her wishes? That was suicide, fact as certain as rise of sun in east.

For moment, he thought of giving up. Of burying or burning body and crying till sea formed out of his tears. He could go and seek his killers, seek to free Elena ( for he could not kill himself, and follow Ivan into death), or tell Ivan's father what happened. But then memories flooded his mind. Ivan's gentle, kind smile when Wolf apologized for eating his cheeks red as rose with embarrassment when he and Elena complimented his looks. Annoyance and childish swearing-for which he apologized- when tsar Afron too sent him on Quest. Refusal to sell Elena, nervousness when she refused to go back, and rage when he learned of Wolf's unspoken shapeshifting talents. Uncontainable happiness and bear-like hug when he returned. His concern if two of them would be too much for Wolf, and sincere thanks, spoken in half-sleep. Shyness when Wolf or Elena made not-so-innocent comment. Insistence on freeing every animal and giving food or money to every so Wolf rose, and said to crow to bring him bag to put remains in. And when crow returned, he gave it bodies, and it went to bury them and mourn.

Wolf run, faster and swifter than wind, beyond seven mountains and seven seas, run while his paws bled, torn mess of flesh and skin and almost exposed bone, without stopping. Run for short or long time, none know, until he came to Thrice-Nine kingdom, to Iron Forest. Ivan's remains were rotten and gave horrible odor, which burned his nose, sensitive even for Wolf, but he didn't throw them, and scared off scavengers who tried to take them.

For three days and three nights he hunted hut, following horrible cackling, till he came to heart of Forest, lawn of light green grass, where trees were so high that Sun couldn't pierce through leaves and branches, leading to darkness so thick that even his golden eyes, so used to lack of light, could barely see finger in front of them.

And there stood fence made of bones. Legs and arms and pelvises and fingers. Some were white and shining like pearls,others were yellow and gnawed, while third were black from fire so much that they resembled broken charcoal. Some were fractured, others were covered with clotted blood. Inside fence, on long, thin chicken legs with long, bloodied claws, stood small hut that seemed to be made of bones melted together. Even roof was made of misshapen, twisted bones that rolled one around other. It was spinning to some mad tune he couldn't hear, dancing frenzied dance. At center of hut stood rotten-black spindle, with crimson thread that was leaking fresh blood. Wolf neared, slowly and carefully, and spoke:

'' L..li...little hu...u...t, li...ttle hu...ut, tu..ur..rn you..our back to forrrr...est and your dooo..ooor to me.''

Hut stopped, one leg bent and other in air. The, it slowly turned and Wolf's eyes widened as legs and spindle disappeared. It was fast, so fast that he couldn't track it. There was no twisting and bending that usually followed great magics like this, the complete unmaking of nature, nor there was flash of light that followed especially skilled wielders of magic. Legs and spindle just disappeared, without theatrics, and hut was on ground, as if it was always so.

With same speed, gate opened, and chilly wind beckoned Wolf to enter. When he walked into yard, and turned his head, he wasn't surprised to see that gate was he took first step, something whispered, and he stopped in his tracks with one leg in air.

It was his name. His true, human name, unspoken for so long that on some days, even he had trouble remembering it, for it was buried in far away part of his mind, along with other details of his life before curse, and those memories were often foggy and blurry. As he stood there, other voices joined the first, and they grew in volume till his ears almost bled.

And then, skulls turned their gaze towards him. Younger, white and clean and shining like pearl, turned swiftly as wind. Others, older, fractured and yellow like peasant teeth, were much slower, turning bit by bit, followed by quiet creaking, and it seemed that it took them great effort. And when all of them set their empty eye sockets ( from which eyes were likely taken out by spoons and eaten like grapes, or used as decoration) upon him, ruby and emerald flames roared to life upon skulls, and from inside them came beams of soft, pale light, not unlike moon's.

''Go away living one! Go away living one! Go away living one!''

They chanted with voice full of dust and cobwebs,sound of it like ice on skin. Their jaws rose and fell with horrible breaking sound.

Wolf didn't turn, but continued towards hut.

'' You do not know what you are playing with! You do not know what you are playing with! You do not know what you are playing with!''

Chorus rose higher and higher, stronger than thunderstorm, and Wolf's ears almost bled. And then...

'' Brother, please stop. You will hurt yourself. Go away, please.''

His brother's voice-broken, terrorized, warped-stopped him in place. Pleading whole time. It told him that he will suffer same fate as they. That before, when they were screaming his true name, nobody heard, but if he doesn't stop they will scream it so loud for whole world to hear. But Wolf, though scared, didn't stop. '' What power do'' he thought '' dead have over living?'' And small voice in his head asked '' If dead have no power over living, then how that you came here knowing risk, because of one dead prince?"' And Wolf answered, growling '' I came here by myself, and twice by my love, but Ivan didn't bind me to come here. If secret of my name is price I have to pay, then I accept!''

And so, voices of skulls died down, till one last whisper was left.

'' Do not repeat our mistake. Do not repeat our mistake. Do not repeat our mistake.''

And when Wolf stepped on grass, in blink of eye yard grew, again so fast that he couldn't see it, till hut was at least thousand miles away. Wolf walked, walked through rocks sharp as knives and frozen ground, through lava and sea while his fur was burned on one side and frozen on other. He was drowning and dying of thirst at same time, but didn't stop. '' Is this how you treat guests?'' he asked.

And then, everything was back as it was before, but now he was on ground, broken and bloodied, tired, so tired. He closed his eyes, and so didn't see light that shone in windows, like glint of eye, nor did he see doors part like lips, and entrance grow till it was as big as whole house. But he did, in his head, hear voices- cold and uncaring- voices older than rock and stone, stars and sky, that pricked his skin like needles..

'' We smell Germanschwauffre blood. Camest thou hither from thine own wish, or because thou wast compelled?''

Half-asleep, Wolf pondered question for some time. And when he was sure, he gave right answer. And entrance swallowed him whole.

'' No.''

Wolf bit his tongue, to prevent insult coming out of his mouth.

In front of him , sitting on rocking chair made of false promises and bones of dead worlds like empress, stood Baba Yaga, imposing and terrifying like mountain. Her legs touched corners of hut ( no small feat, for inside, hut was grander than all palaces of world together) and her head touched roof. Her nose was as long as Perevitzky Bridge, and her arms were long as greatest trees, brown and rotting, her skin like bark and age spots like knots, with great iron claws at each finger. Her giant skirt was like forest- conifer green, orange and red of ripped autumn leaves, black red of rot and dried blood, clear blue of mountains streams and springs, while hear head, covered by snow white hair ( only thing clean on her), was like some primitive stone sculpture, hard and bare as top of mountains, hard and covered in wrinkles deep as canyons. She was thin, only skeleton covered by hardened skin, and around her was aura of power and age, great and teriblle, that invoked in him same feeling as when he saw ocean and blizzard for first time.

He thought for some time, how to ask without asking, for Baba Yaga aged year for every answer she gave, and so it wasn't wise to ask her something, at least not if you didn't wish to end up as soup.

'' I thought, Mistress, to ask you, for Ivan was kind and good soul, and his brothers did great injustice to him and Elena the Beautiful. And since you are mighty and great, I knew I could not steal Waters, so I wished to ask you, for it would be nothing for you, and everything for me.''

'' Oh, yes. Yes, it would be everything for you. You who sent crow to come and bring Waters in vials, better that then asking us, no? Didn't think we would know, that we would notice, that we would feel. And now you come, without price, without offering. And you speak about justice, but what of all others? Peasant families whose meaningless lives depend on their single, simple cow? Worthless nobles whose lines depend on single heir, whose death will tear their insignificant kingdoms to shreds? Why is you cause so much more important than theirs? Isn't it injustice, same reason why you came to us?''

'' I...''

'' Didn't think of it! Of course not, you just thought of easy way to revive your pretty boy, without care for others? And why should you? Dogs aren't cats, they don't care for complex things, and humans never cared for rules and obligations. There was no way for you to care about something like that.''

'' That is...''

'' And why you think we ordered Choda-Yoda to guard Wells? Too many heroes thinking it is easy to steal them. And if we let you go, what would happen? Your story would spread through world, revealed either by too much alcohol or stones that decided now it is time to talk. And what would people say? Yaga is unjust, Yaga is soft. Baba is careless, Baba is easily scared. Baba Yaga is senile, Baba Yaga doesn't notice. Even thousand children every day aren't worth of such annoyance. We won't give you, or anybody else Waters. Not now, not ever again.''

Wolf gnashed his teeth. If he knew who was adventurist who drove old witch to breaking point, he would gladly eat them whole. He didn't expect this, he thought all he would need to do is to make few honeyed flattering comments, go on quest that would have been hard to human centuries ago, and leave hag to rot in peace. But now he had to think of another plan.

He couldn't take what he wanted by force, no. Even Merlin himself couldn't take Her down here, in heart of her power. He had to bargain, to be humble and appeal to her power and knowledge, if she truly had it. So he bowed with his forehead at floor and used his best apologizing voice, one he used on his nurse when she caught him in trouble.

'' O Great Mistress, I'm sorry for my arrogance and carelessness. My grief and rage took over my reason, thinking I have right, without price, to take such thing for myself. And I won't try to make you reconsider your decision, but I do have offer for you. I have heard that your power is great, and your reach is even longer. You can reverse effects of time, make torn body whole, reach into Otherworld and pull soul from it, bind it to body, so that dead can live once again. If you would do so with Ivan, there is no price I would be unwilling to pay, no artifact I wouldn't retrieve. I would go to end of world, and go against anybody you set me upon.''

Giant woman started to hum, sound as pleasant as blood-curling scream of banshee, and began rocking in her nightmarish chair, and Wolf could not stifle fear that chair would break and that giantess would fall on him, turning him to dust. And then she tapped chair with her curved claw.

From shadows, woman came. Her age was hard to determine- from one angle, she looked like fifty year old, her beauty slowly sapped by age and work, yet then light would change and she was barely girl. She wore traditional, if old-fashioned Ruttryniyan royal sarafan, all teal silk and turquoise velvet, with jewel encrusted kokoshnik and veil like moonlight. She was beautiful-she stood tall and proud, her skin without single blemish, her face perfectly proportional and symmetric. He supposed she could be called Beautiful, for she was almost as fair as Elena, but there was something lacking about her-her skin seemed to be made of porcelain, and her grey eyes were cold and dead like those of fish, and she moved slowly, so slowly that her clothes stayed still and flat,rigidly, like statue. She came to foot of chair, and Wolf could see that she was bearing iron cauldron, glowing red like fires of hearth, with steaming blue liquid inside whose fumes emitted strong and sweet smell of roses and honey. Yet she didn't appear bothered by heat, and he couldn't smell scorched flesh ( nor anything else), and when she let go of handle, and cauldron levitated to witch's hands, he could see that her fingers were shining, pristine and unharmed.

He closed eyes when ancient giantess started to open her mouth. He had no wish to see knives of iron and stone decorating cave that was her mouth, to see cold raindrops that were her saliva slip free. But he still could hear, how her lips parted, like rock cut in half, and how she roared as she swallowed contents of caludron, so mall that they were but a drop for her. waited until horrible grumbling sounds were gone, till sighs strong as gales stopped. He didn't care for manners much, not even as human, but even beasts of wild, who never knew civilization, would stand this.

'' See. That's manners, all right. We could, oh yes, we could, but we won't for naught.'' This time, voice was higher, clearer and mocking, honeyed.

He turned to look to woman, but she stood still as statue.

'' Why?''

His heart almost jumped to his throat when he realized he asked her question. Witch's face curled, and pressure in room increased, but she didn't strike.

''We ain't doing those anymore. Retired, ya see. Otherworld, souls, and all that 's not ours. Resurrection's easy but's miracle. That's for deities, not us. This Creation is theirs, not ours, and they don't bother us, and we don't mess with often at least''

He doubted deities would answer his call. Anger started to bubble up in him. Did he come this far, was he tested so much, just for old witch to behave as bishop of his father. '' Maybe we could help, but we refuse, just pray and help the Church.'' old man would say.

'' Not that it matters. He will be back, in year. Or ten, or century.''

'' What do you mean by that?'' She didn't smite him previous time, maybe she won't do it now.

'' Did you ever wonder'' she smiled, and it was like river carving canyon in mountain '' why all tsareviches are called Ivan in tales of his land?''

Question befuddled him, but he recalled good friend of his, master storyteller, who was also one of best folklorists on continent, and willing to give lessons for free to all who would listen ( and some who would rather not).

'' Legends and folklore were never my forte, Grand Mistress'' he hesitantly began '' but according to folklorists, it is because Ivan is common, ordinary name, and...''

'' Folklorists!'' She scoffed, and wind pushed him to wall. '' Scientists tempting with stories! Blasphemy if there was ever one! And they are some of best, not like physicist, chemists, biologists. Fools who think they know world better than old women in woods in small walking hut, who think themselves smart and wise, even if they can't calculate how many atoms are there in their body, which color is electron of gold, how does dying cell sound, and how would they then do something bit more complex, a? ''

Wolf bit his his tongue again. If hag continued going from topic to rant about nonsenses and her hate of modern world, he would be here forever. He thought to open his mouth to spit this out, but he caught eye of woman, who waved her head from left to right and then back again. So he swallowed and waited.

'' Truth is, my little doggie, that your pretty boy constantly dies and is reborn, following same story. Oh details are different, but I am usually sucked in, and animals help him, of course. And there is always, always, some problem with his lover and when it is resolved, his two brothers chop him up and wastefully scatter remains instead of cooking them, and he rests before he is born again and all is repeated. World likes it's stories so it forces characters to repeat them. And when they resist, like my dear Vasilisa here,'' and she gestured to woman '' it recreates situation with other people. Your Ivan is repeating his tale since long ago. I met him fine number of times, and he is only reason why I haven't still made broth of you, but that's changing if you continue behaving like this, so be careful with your thoughts.''

His brain was caught in terrible cacophony. It burned with knowledge, questioning possibility of such thing, questioning witch's sincerity, and instinct raged, telling him to get out.

But one thought shone brighter than all, calm rock in wrathful sea. '' I could see him again.''

'' Yes, you could, but when and where? One who cursed you didn't speak truth. You can die of old age, thought it will take more time than usual. Their spells cannot last forever. Maybe one capable of striking mortal blow and returning you to human form will be born once in hundred years, but you won't last half of thousand. Thought there is way to solve all of your problems...''

Offer was standing there, hanging unspoken in air. Serve me, be my slave, be my hound. fetch and hunt for me, and I will keep your death away. What is free life worth, without anchor, without goal or cause? Without comfortable home, warm supper on hearth, kind smile of considerate lover willing to care for beast? What could he do but accept? So he stood there, as hag unleashed her bidden power.

There was no sign, no incantation, no movement of arms, no wands or amulets. Were this normal witch, she would take strand of her power, knit it into ribbon of knots, form pattern while singing and working with something-candle, painting,dress,supper. And magic would use what it could use, make individual who fit spell's needs, come here for some reason ( lost in woods, cursed kingdom, dead lover), trip and fall on him and fracture his skull. Or maybe it would bring remains of victim who could have been one, and they would knock knife on him.

Were she mage, she would shape magic, give it form and use it as weapon. Were she sorcerer, she would prepare spell for hours, spell that would only do what it was specified for, and cover him with sigils. Were she wizard, it would be some combination.

But it was none. He realized that only now, when he didn't See her power. When he didn't see light or colors or shapes, when he didn't smell herbs `or food, didn't hear growling or music, didn't taste rich, sweet or disgusting flavors, didn't feel elements across his skin. No, her power was like air. Lacking form, unnoticeable, but omnipresent, and when it wished, it could destroy cities, change weather, move sea or deed fire. rip trees from ground and crush icebergs, wear out mountains and reshape deserts. It was noticed by it's effects, not looks.

He thought her giant, though unusually old and powerful, of indeterminate race. Mayhaps one of remaining elders, who predated humanity, from time when nechyst still held power of shaping and commanding magic, when it itself was young. Prototype, really. But now he understood that she was no more witch or giant than God was sorcerer or dragon.

But most of all, he was overtaken by her sheer age. He saw her posture and behavior, bitter and bored with world,saw dried, emaciated husk her body has become, almost corpse. When he looked at her, space around her seemed filthy, dusty, worn out and pale, covered with patina and smelling of corpses, infertile soil and old books, and now he understood why his mind associated her with sea and mountain, it was it's subconscious attempt to describe ancient power it felt and not break. For that was what she was, not old but Ancient. Her age pressed upon him, with weight of sea and sky, drowning him with sheer number of years she lived. He understood then that she was before, she is now and she will be after.

And in second it was over. His body didn't contort, twist and bend into blob while bones and muscles remade themselves, nor did he change in explosion of light and flame. Simply, one moment he was wolf, and another he was man.Handsome man, two heads taller than Ivan or Elena ( Ivan would fit well at his chest, was what passed through his head), well-muscled and lean, with sharp, high cheekbones and strong jaw, pointy chin and grey hair. He was well out of teenage years, but still not true adult, dressed in royal Germanschwauffre hunting clothes, thought little out of date and not overly breath was unsteady, and he did only what was reasonable for mortal to do after experience like this.

He passed out, with soft thump when his head touched floor. Baba Yaga just continued rocking in her chair, while something that might have been surprise passed Vasilisa's eyes, giving them some semblance of life.

'' Well, that was impressive. We haven't got one like this for ages. That promises interesting times.''

He awoke in soft, big bed, covered by heavy woolen was coming through window with glass as clean as spring breeze, filling room with beautiful shine and making falling of dust motes seem like dance of some small, sparkling creatures. Room was completely made of polished, lacquered wood that was shining under light.

'' Where did she send me?'' he asked aloud.

'' You are still in hut, just in different room.'' Cold voice answered. He turned to see that woman-Vasilisa was it- had entered room, with tray with food in one hand and bundle of clothes in other. When she came to bed, floor rippled like water, and matter rose, shaping into small table for tray and chair for her.

'' I'm sorry we haven't been introduced formally. I'm Vasilisa, and for some time I will be your guide and your link with babushka. Now, You should eat. And change clothes.'' And she threw bundle on bed.

''...Change clothes?'' He asked, thankfully without blushing.

'' Hmmm. Didn't take you for self-conscious. but if it will be easier for you, I won't look.''

'' No, I mean, why should I change clothes?'' While technically he did wear same clothes for decades, thanks to spell they bore no damage he received in his animal form, and so they were clean and new.

'' I suggest you take look at yourself.'' He did, and immediately paled.

His tight, brown leather breeches were covered with big dark, wet spot. Only now, he noticed that he was feeling uncomfortably pricking itching at that area, which he knew meant that there was danger of rash and infection. Disgusting smell was noticeable, and he was thankful that he no longer had precise senses of wolf. When he looked around himself, he saw that mattress was clean. Which meant that he must have soiled himself in front of witch. Remains of his pride were screaming, and he looked down, unwilling to meet eyes of Vasilisa.

'' If it will mean something to you, this is considered almost impressive by babushka's standards. Most people melt after getting idea of her true age.'' She spoke, with closed eyes and raised eyebrow.

Silently, he got out of bed, and undressed himself slowly, casting careful glances onto her, but she truly didn't take a look. Still he was ashamed, he never thought he would ever let somebody watch him undress, unless those were servants or Ivan and Elena( thought those would be rather different situations). And so, he slowly cast away last remnants of his old life, folding them carefully on bed, and dressed in peasant clothes provided for him, which were fresh but old, and he was unable to identify them as belonging to either nation. Thought simple, flaxen fabric was beautiful in some way, shining and strong, soft as silk and easy as cobwebs, as well as unusually cool.

'' I hope you like it. It is one of mine creations.'' She said with tone of voice that implied that she doubted he had ever seen something like that. This information surprised him, for she looked like woman of noble birth, and while he was sure she knew how to embroider, he would never have guessed that she was capable of making full clothes, and peasant one on top of that. So, though he guessed she didn't need it, he assured her of excellence of her craftsmanship, and she almost smiled.

'' I'm sorry, but are you related to Vasilisa of kingdom of Never? Your name and clothes fit, and I must say that I have heard she is very beautiful and skilled in magical arts.''

Something resembling insulted look passed her dead eyes ( or was it annoyance) but she answered calmly:

'' No. I'm in no way related to her, save for superficial, accidental resemblances. We are similar just like cheap glass is similar to greatest diamond.'' He could guess who she thought of diamond . He wondered if this was what... that being though when she spoke of world attempting to repeat great feats, and when she said Vasilisa resisted. Was it possible that queen of never was world's attempt to repeat this woman's life?

''What am I going to do? How long? And how will I last until Ivan is reborn?''

'' Aren't you full of questions.'' She said, and he knew she wasn't asking. '' You did well that you kept your curious nature in front of babushka. Still, you have wasted two questions. She will only allow you one more, and after that none. So don't ask her without permission or great need, and don't ask her about anything in this house.'' When she said that, sunlight dimmed, and her dress gave off fiery shine, while cup she just took shone with dull orange glow, and tea let out white smoke, contrasting nicely against her icy appearance.

'' As for your questions, for now you will just be fetch boy. You will do so for however long babushka wishes. And you will live, for she will drive death away from you.'' When his eyes widened and he started to open mouth, she sighed and answered. '' And yes she can. You cannot control what is older than you, and babushka is much, much older than death. It could gobble up all that can die, feast on their power, siphon off babushka for twice long she has lived, trap her in circumstances that favor it, and throw all it has on her, yet she wouldn't need to move finger to fight it off. Death knows this, so it won't try anything. Now go with me, you need to remember basic layout of space you are permitted to wander.''

He got up, and looked around empty room, and then he saw that his bag was nowhere in room. His face twisted with rage, but before he could speak she looked at him with those cold eyes that seemed to be more of ornament than organ and answered.

'' Don't worry, babushka and me took good care of corpse. It was treated with respect and burned, and I can assure I will take good care of his skull.''

'' His skull?!''

'' Yes. I keep skulls of my greatest enemies and friends, and Ivan was great friend to me in all his previous lives. I have skulls of all his bodies. And it wouldn't be smart to keep asking me too much questions either. if you learn too much too soon, or you will get too old too soon, and we don't wish that, do we?'' And then, her face turned old, so old,wringled and saggy skin covered y steely hair, before it was back to normal.

''Also, thank you. I won bet with my prediction that Ivan will find some nice, cursed boy for himself in this life.''

They are watching flames of oven, oven on which they sleep, golden flames in which they finished creation of worlds like humans who makes clay pottery, golden flames that consumed so many souls, golden flames in which they were thrown so many times, and think about mortal prince.

His will is strong, supported by his love, and that allowed him to survive glimpse of their age they have shown him. Some will say that it was test, same as torment he suffered on outside of hut, and maybe it was, but mostly, middle sister was bored and sought way to have fun. Youngest agreed, because they could feast on flesh when he dies, and eldest sat in silence and contemplated all this.

It was their right to make Waters forbidden. Oh, there was injustice there, but they were irritated, irritated at those heroes in shining armor who claim to be noble when they are really selfish, just as those who call themselves monsters when they are nothing but soft. So they called Choda-Yoda and ordered him to guard waters, even if nobody has taken them in was so small for them, but they understood how much it is for humans, stupid, uncultured, thieving humans. Some might have called them whimsical, but they didn't care, for it was right, and they went in their mortar and took those liars and crushed them into spice.

They were nothing but headache, oh yes. Others didn't realize this, or they forced themselves to believe that humans are worth something, but they let little morsels to worship them, to build armies and temples and nations in their name, and they fought for their souls. They knew better, but they too were too much kind.

Some would laugh at this, but this was true. When those pitiful worms began having thoughts of mercy and kindness, they should have crashed them, but they did not. When they cried out against injustices, asked for love and hope and not sacrificing babies on primitive altar every month ( as if it was something dreadful!) they should have let their Black Rider, one on which they stood, crack and consume them, suffocate them with sand and drown with mud, crush with rock and melt with lava. Other Black Rider should have covered first, imprisoned survivors in dark and shadows, so that no crops would grow and allow no light to warm them. But they wouldn't let them die, oh no. They would then order White Rider to replace night and last on forever, so that they would never sleep, never rest, light always blinding them. And second White Rider would send it's winds and torrents and storms and destroy their homes. And then Red Rider they loved so much would send it's light, it's warmth they desired so much, and burn their crops and melt their skin.

But they didn't do so. They went away in their beautiful hut on chicken legs ( or were it chickens who had legs like their hut) and let all other deities come with bling and miracles and codes and make little idiots civilization.

And now, some idiots were starting to think they are smart. Scientists, they called themselves, and examined world and turned people from magic. but they were fools, fools who couldn't count atoms of their own body, hear sound of their cells dying, see what colors were their electrons. And how could they know something, if they are unable to perform such basic things? But worst of all, they called them stupid.

Stupid old woman, they said. remnant of forgotten time. Corpse who refused to die, not realizing that she is no longer needed. Her powers are outdated, they said, fear People have of her is unfounded now, for they are stronger than before. All she has to offer is scaring children. So they tried to forget, because remembering took courage and bravery. They didn't realize, that every time they struck their name out of history, their teeth grew sharper. That their parents tried same, and that their children will know them and try again, but best they could do was forget their name and see them in another shape. But they will know her.

And people will follow these scientists, these wise men and sages, and when their precious kingdoms fell, when their overdecorated fortresses of civilization they built against wild lie in ruin, and their children crawl through ash and dirt, they would remember that Baba Yaga warned them, and that they won't show mercy next time. Gods could exist without men, but men could not exist without gods.

At least People still had some sense left. That was why they were their legend. When Baba Yaga called for kingdom to be destroyed, all of People, healthy and sick, old and young, good and evil, took up weapons, fought against those she pointed them on, marched to their death. When Baba Yaga called for sacrifice, tsar had no peace from people who were offering themselves, cities chosen as victims took their lives, and survivors wept bitter tears because they haven't been chosen. When Baba Yaga called for meal, people who would defy deities for sake of their children took their offspring in arms, raced against their neighbors to woods and worst brats willingly put themselves in their maws.

Some said that this was vengeance. That once Baba Yaga was young, has always been young, and then humans came with their questions and for each answer, year of her youth and beauty were stolen, and not even all tea of blue roses can fix that, so she eats children. Nonsense. They cared not for her looks, even if their back ached terribly. They ate children because humans were spoiled and needed bit of pain and tragedy in their lives. Only few, like Ivan or Vasilisa or Vasilisa's archetype, little girl of ashes, were worth something.

Though Ivan should settle and stay single forever. His lovers always brought problems, and now that he had two!

They changed their form, became tall as human but bent with age, and went to in cage, children of people lined themselves up with smiles of pride on their faces.

''Not now, dearies.'' They said and watched as children of People started crying.

They took plump Germanschwauffre child, too scared to move, opened their great maws and put it between their iron and stone knives that rested in their jaws, put it in till teeth were over waist.

They closed mouth.

Well, first chapter is finished! Thank you for reading and please review.