#aphbelarusweek

She snorted but didn’t get up, and so it continued for about a few more seconds awakening her with a bolt out of bed. It was still dark out, but the sun was coming soon and she heard something scamper away from her room. She knew who and what it was. She rubbed her eyes and got out of bed, shuffling along the cold floor in bare feet to the kitchen in her nightgown. It was empty, but she heard a chuckling from under the stove. “Old trickster,” she said affectionately. “I never forget grandfather, you know that. I’m not an fucking idiot.”

As she spoke she got out some flour and began making fresh rye bread for herself and for the damavik as well. He had been with her all these centuries though out the ages, her companion and friend. It would be stupid and ungrateful not to give him his daily reward for taking care of her home and therefore angering him. “Tell grandmother not to give me shit again today, and she can have all the domain of the basement to herself for another day.” There was a horse whispering in response, but the damavik remained unseen. 

Grandmother was the kikimora, who sometimes gave her grief by stealing her things and sitting on her chest but sometimes didn’t. Mostly she listened to the damavik. Once she was done, she put the bread in the oven and as it cooked the smell of fresh bread filled the room, making both being hungry. There was no time to rest however as Belarus soon set out making porridge for the damavik while she waited for the bread. “Share this with grandmother, it’s for her too. Did she spin last night? I found a flax thread near the basement door. Either you forgot or she needs to be more neat and not a goddamn slob.” There was more whispering in response. “I see, she can do as she wills and as she’s always done for hundreds of years.” 

They both fell silent for a moment, but as Belarus continued to stir the porridge she began to hum. Then to her great pleasure the damavik hummed with her as well, his raspy hollow voice mingling with her sweet yet cold one as delicious smells contained to fill the air and the porridge began to bubble and grow thick. 

Eventually all was done, and Belarus set everything on the table, heaping porridge into three bowls,  breaking the bread in half, and sprinkling the damavik’s half with salt, meanwhile she put strawberry preserves on her own. Finally she poured out a glass of milk and set it, the two porridge bowls, and the sated bread on a small stool near the stove. The damavik whispered once more, acknowledging her offering. “You’re welcome grandfather. Now eat your shit.”  Then she left the kitchen with her food in order to give him and the kikmora some privacy as they ate. 

The day continued uneventfully and due to errands she had to be away from the house for most of the day. However on her way home sunset was falling, and she remembered a promise she had made a week beforehand in the woods. It was time to enter them, as foolish as some considered it during that specific time of the year. However Belarus had done so many times before, she had no fear but instead simply respect. Before going into the woods however, she made sure to take off her shoes and hid them behind a tree. She also checked to see if the berries, honey, and bread she had brought with her were still in the knapsack she carried, thankfully they were. 

The woods were silent as the sun continued to set, not even the animals living in it could be heard on that night. Even so Belarus continued to walk. Suddenly she heard a laugh above her head, and looking up Belarus found what she was looking for; a rusalka with long pale blonde hair filled with weeds and a sheer white dress clinging to her pallid clammy skin. “You showed up,” the rusalka said, with a voice that was as light as the twinkling of silver bells and as hard as steel. “I did, you should know me better by now and that I’m not a fucking idiot with how many years you’ve been as you are. I never break my promises to the beings in my land.” 

The rusalka climbed down from the tree like a cat. When she reached the ground she leaned close to the nation and sniffed her, a playful smile on her face. “I smell gifts!” Belarus didn’t budge, “Tch! Yes, gifts for you but also for the other rusalka, don’t be fucking greedy. It’s for everyone so you get your share when we reach the shallows where I presume the others are. Lead me there.” The rusalka pouted, her long blonde hair falling into her face. “You’re too fair, but alright. That I guess, is part of the challenge this year too. You haven’t forgotten the others.” 

She took Belarus’s hand in her own and the two continued walking silently in the woods.  It was a charming and beautiful, yet eerie image. Two pale maidens, neither of them human, walking in the woods together, their thin frames gliding though the trees and their long pale blond hair trailing behind them. The only visible difference was that one looked more bedraggled then the other, and was less clothed. Belarus was unsure how long they walked, but the moon gradually changed positions as they did and she knew it must of been hours. Still, she didn’t mind since she always had time for those who were a part of her, the beings that helped give her some life. 

Slowly the ground became soft and marshy and their bare feet left marks in the soft loamy dirt. Then they stopped in front of a body of water, it was unclear how deep it was but it was lying hidden in the heart of the woods. No mortal could come by it easily unless allowed to for some reason or the other, and not necessarily a benevolent one. A river flowed away from it, but that was not where their journey lay, for they were already here. Belarus looked around, none of the rusalka were in the lake. Instead some were up in the trees, speaking amidst one another. Several others were sitting in the ground, combing their long hair and weaving flower crowns for one another as they sang or hummed. Finally, a small group was dancing in a circle, also singing softy and beautifully. Some of them  looked at Belarus but then quickly went back to what they were doing before, seemingly undisturbed. 

The rusalka standing next to Belarus looked around sighed and said, “It looks like you passed the dare. You dared come out here during the time when we can walk the land and drag all mortals down to join us. You’re still not so much like those humans that you’re separated from us.” The rusalka pouted, clearly not feeling sure if she should be pleased or not. On the one hand she loved mischief and causing trouble, on the other hand it pleased her Belarus was still in a way, one of them too.

Belarus rubbed the ribbon on top of her head as it interested her more and felt nice and soft. “You’ve done this shit time and time again and it’s always the same. I’ve been alive for thousands of years so why the hell should I of all people fear this time of year? The humans may be unable to tread these grounds and waters at this time, but I go wherever the fuck I will as long as I pay my respects,” she said calmly. “Remember, I’m not human however much I may be connected to them. I never was human and I never will be human, and that’s that. I watch them as something separate yet belonging, I feel them inside me and they’re part of my soul, but I will never truly understand them. I will never live their short and foolish lives, this I know too fucking well.”

 She stopped rubbing the ribbon and  took out the bread and berries, along with a jar of honey. The rusalka licked her lips, “Are you sad?” Belarus shook her head, “Why the hell would I be? There’s not a damn thing to be sad about. This is my fate, I accept it. I’m the spirit of Belarus incarnate, sharing my soul with the people and the woods and all of you here. I don’t know anything else. Besides, all of our stupid lives are filled with sorrow and tragedy. A human’s in it’s own way, and mine in my own. Now all of you sluts get to eat, and me too.” The rusalka snorted, “Are you a slut?” She was used to Belarus’s harsh language and knew she meant no harm, she used it herself too sometimes. “No, I’m a bitch,” Belarus said dully and passed the food to all of them. 

Then they all resumed their previous activities as they began to eat. Belarus for her part sat down and so did the rusalka next to her. She slathered some of the golden honey on the hunk of rough dry rye bread and shoved it into her mouth. “I’m going to brush your hair,” said the rusalka, fingers an inch away from Belarus’s waist in an unspoken threat to tickle her if she refused. Belarus merely nodded and allowed her to do so, and as she began the rusalka started humming which Belarus joined a few minutes afterwards.