Blood upon the snow

“Why is she hugging me? She saw it too—I killed a child. How can she still want to stay with me?” I want to pat her head, but I can’t lift my hand. “I can’t go on like this. She can’t receive the same treatment I did.”

My hand twitches just slightly. «Forgive me for interrupting,» says Akanke, drawing our attention. «There’s still one last step.» Behind her, an open door radiates a red light.

“She’s the only one left…” I think, glancing at the little one. “I don’t want her to relive her past—especially knowing she’s that madman’s daughter.” Nadia tugs at my hand, grabs Laila’s too, and the three of us step through the door together. But we don’t get far—we find ourselves crammed into a kind of wooden cylinder, with a single hole above us casting the interior in red.

«Søren, Laila…» A tall, beautiful woman welcomes us with a calm voice. She struggles to raise both arms, blocked by me and Laila’s body, then gently cups the backs of our heads, pressing us against her chest. «Welcome. It’s wonderful to be able to hold you.» “What is this warmth I feel?” «I’m sorry to greet you in such a cramped space.»

«You’re Nadia, aren’t you?» I ask, pulling back to meet her eyes.

«That’s right,» she answers with a soft smile.

«Why are you grown-up?» Laila asks.

«Because it takes an adult to take care of two children like you,» she replies with a light laugh.

«You’ll understand once we’re outside,» Akanke clarifies. The adult Nadia lifts her hands and pushes open the lid above us, helping us climb out.

We’re inside a house, much like the one where we found Nadia. Besides the barrel we just emerged from, there are several others. The air is thick with the stench of alcohol and urine, especially from the one we crawled out of.

On a beam of the ceiling, I notice an engraving: Morana’s symbol, an ‘X’ with dashes on each end. «Where are we?» Laila asks.

«In the place where I grew up,» replies the adult Nadia.

«STUPID BASTARDS! THEY DON’T KNOW WHO I AM! THEY’LL ALL PAY!» We all turn toward the muffled shouts.

The door bursts open with a screech of the hinges. A disheveled, reeking man steps inside, slamming the door behind him. His face is unforgettable—Goran. He stumbles forward with his head down, weaving past us toward the barrel we emerged from. Wrenching it open, he drags out a four-year-old girl by the rags she wears—if they can be called clothes—and throws her to the ground. She bursts into tears. He punches her square in the face. «SHUT UP, NAPAKA!»

«Mh!» Nadia flinches beside me. When I turn, I see her clutching her arms, wrinkling her sleeves in her grip.

He yanks the girl up by her hair and drags her face close to his. «It’s all your fault they won’t sell me liquor anymore.» He slams his fist into her stomach, making her vomit. «HOW DARE YOU FILTHY MY HOUSE, WRETCHED CREATURE!» He grinds her face into the mess. «Now clean.» She begins scrubbing with the rags she wears.

The man leaves. The girl crawls back into the barrel. Silence falls heavy with horror. «That was one of my earliest memories,» comes Nadia’s adult voice from within the barrel.

The stench thickens. The door bursts open again. Goran stumbles back in, hair longer, filthier. He staggers toward the barrel. Its surface is blackened now, foul, like a stadium bathroom after a match.

He drags the girl out by her hair again. «You stink—you’re disgusting. Not only did you kill her, but you even stole her face. And look how you’re ruining it with your filthy existence.» He smashes his fist into her nose, knocking loose a baby tooth and splitting her lip, then another punch swells her eye shut. «That’s better. Now crawl back into that hole, where you belonged with your mother.»

Broken, she’s shoved back in. Darkness swallows everything with the slam of the lid. There’s a crack—we press close to peer through it. The man sits slumped at a table, pouring himself mug after mug from a keg. He drinks with sobs, one greasy hand covering his face, long oily hair dangling. «Why… why did you have to die? You were the best thing that ever happened to me… It’s not fair. Why did you leave me with that freak? Because of her, I lost my job at the mine… She took everything from me…»

He stumbles back toward the barrel, throwing the lid open. Light floods in. We’re standing on a lush green hill, encircled by a thick forest. At the far end of the slope winds a path; at the crest sits a small house. The sky is clear, the sun bright, white clouds embracing the mountain peaks. The air is crisp, my spirit lightens just a little after all we’ve seen.

A little girl runs past us, laughing, turning to us with a radiant smile. She seems older now—maybe six. «That was the first day I saw the outside world. Once I knew I was old enough to slip out while my father was gone, I gathered my courage and finally stepped out!» she beams, spinning in delight.

She rolls on the grass, chases some strange creature, stumbles, then kneels to pick up something shining. Her eyes widen with awe. She holds it up… «That ring… it’s the same one Goran had!» Laila exclaims, rushing closer.

Little Nadia slips the ring onto her finger. A blue light bursts forth. I shield my eyes, and when the glow fades, there stands a breathtaking fairy—tall and radiant, butterfly wings white as snow. Her skin is pale, her hair white and wavy, her eyes a gentle crimson. A crown rests on her head, red rose bracelets on her wrists, and a long traditional Ukrainian bridal gown shimmers about her.

«Maminka?» the child whispers through tears. She leaps up and embraces her.

«How is this possible? Wasn’t it just a little chained blue man inside the ring? Who is she?» I ask, bewildered.

«I told you already…» Laila says, turning her back.

«The Haab-shu take the form most comforting to the bearer of the artifact,» Akanke explains. «Clearly, this is how Nadia imagined her mother—after all of her father’s glorifications.» I glance at Nadia. She won’t even look at the beautiful scene.

A rustling sound pulls my eyes back. Little Nadia now cradles a small zajitak, badly wounded. She cries. “How I wish I could cure him…” Her thought echoes around us. The fairy caresses her head. Nadia’s hair and eyes glow, and the zajitak is restored, fluttering off in perfect health. The girl smiles through her tears.

Darkness slams back in. We all cover our noses—the stench burns our eyes. Our ankles are submerged in black water. Dripping sounds. Curled up, the little one gasps and sobs soundlessly, likely after yet another abuse. No light shines through—was the hole sealed?

“I’m scared. I don’t like the dark… I wish I had a friend…” The fairy, now tiny, strokes her cheek. Nadia glows again and conjures a small familiar. She hugs it, smiling weakly through tears.

The adult Nadia looks at us with sorrow in her eyes, still trying to smile. «But I wasn’t careful enough. The girl’s growing joy made her father suspicious.» She jerks back, as if shoved. Light returns—we’re back in the room. She’s on the ground, while Goran stands over her, fists clenched, chest heaving.

«Did you think I wouldn’t notice you’ve been happier? What is it—you mocking me now? Laughing at me like everyone else?!» He seizes her hair, yanking her up. «You think you’re better than me, DON’T YOU?!» he roars, punching her. This time, along with her, the ring falls. His eyes catch it—he snatches it up. «So this is why you were happy? Hiding this from me, you stupid whore!» he snarls, kicking her. «Do you know how much money I could’ve gotten selling this?» He eyes the ring, lips curling. «Still… not bad at all.» He slips it on. The glow returns, and the strange little man I knew emerges. «AAAAAH! A DEMON!» Goran screams, tumbling backward.

«Take care of yourself…» the little man tells Nadia with a smile. In his final moment of freedom, he brands her with an untraceable seal and makes her vanish instantly. The space shrinks. We’re back in the barrel we started from. Before us stands the adult Nadia once more. «From then on, I spent my first hundred years in flight. The world was changing under Goran’s conquest. Village after village, kind families took me in—gave me food, a bath, clean clothes… But the end was always the same: slaughtered by the king’s men for sheltering me. The next two hundred years, I spent alone, driving away anyone who dared come close…»

«Nadia…» Laila sobs, as does Akanke. But me… my blood boils in my veins. My jaw clenches so tight it hurts. My gaze no longer seeks justice, nor hope. It is hatred—pure, seared into my soul. There is no forgiveness, no redemption. Every breath, every heartbeat is a silent curse upon Goran. “I will not forget. I will not let you escape.”

The wall behind us vanishes, sending us crashing to the floor. I open my eyes, feeling something wrapped tight around my neck. I grab and tear it away—it looks like a red vine. Following it, I see it binds us all, even Akanke. She rises, tears still in her eyes, and smiles softly at me. «Good morning.»