Dragomir

Zduhach and Dragomir stood over a mound of soil behind the workshop, where they had buried Svarog’s remains, along with his destroyed mallet.

“A god returning to the earth, just like a mere mortal…” Dragomir said, closing his eyes and nodding in a respectful gesture. “Thanks for taking care of this while I was out cold.”

“Don’t mention it. You were worried about Milena, and you hadn’t slept either.”

“Did you explain everything to her while I was asleep?”

“Yes, but she said she doesn’t care about that. She wants to see her mother again.”

“That Mora, huh?” Dragomir lowered his gaze.

“It must be tough for you. I feel this warm connection with you and Milena after everything we went through. I can’t imagine how painful it is, knowing she doesn’t feel the same connection to you.”

Dragomir shook his head. “What do you think I’ve been through these last five years?”

Zduhach managed a grin. “Yeah, I sometimes forget how strong you are!”

“I’m glad Milena can get closure with her mother. And that you can honor your mother’s dying wishes.” Dragomir turned away and headed for the house.

“But…” Zduhach’s smile disappeared again. “What about your mother?”

Dragomir stopped. “Nothing gets past your ears, huh?”

“Was one of those Rusalki your mother?”

Dragomir knew he didn’t have to hide anything from his partner. And even if he did, Zduhach could easily misunderstand and come to some ridiculous conclusion.

So he shared his story.

“When I left Arkona…” Dragomir sank to the ground and leaned against the wall of Svarog’s house.

He settled in Levoslav’s hometown, far enough from Milena’s family mill while still keeping an eye on her. Dragomir tested every theory, looking for a way to break Veles’ deal.

“Anyone would suffer after so many rejections and fearful looks from the person they loved. So after two years… I decided to let her move on. And try to move on myself.”

“So you came back to Arkona?”

Upon Dragomir’s return, Arkonans celebrated the nameless bohatier who had gifted them the Little Table. They thought they would never have to work the fields again. But that kind of thinking led to their downfall. Poludnica took over the fields, even though she had started as a weak spirit.

Dragomir knew that only another kind of suffering awaited him at home. Having his own parents fail to recognize him was devastating. One day they thought their son had gone missing. Another day they were convinced he was dead.

“That was the last time I spoke to my mom. She had no idea why I felt so familiar. I thought that at least my presence would make her feel better. But the next morning…”

Maria, Dragomir’s mother, always washed clothes at a nearby spring. That morning, she did not return. Jozef believed that she couldn’t take the pain anymore. So he turned his grief into a purpose. He dedicated his life to protecting Arkona, while either searching for his missing son or avenging his dead one, depending on what he remembered.

Dragomir learned that his mother was presumed dead. The funeral was held without a body. They buried an empty coffin in the ground just to pay their respects to her departed dushe.

“And yet, I couldn’t even be there for my own father when he needed me most…”

“Poor Jozef…” Zduhach sighed.

“Since we never did the proper funeral ritual with the coins and stuff, it makes sense she returned as a spirit…” Dragomir placed his face into his palms.

“They say a woman who drowns while suffering because of love becomes a Rusalka…” Zduhach added.

That was when Dragomir left Arkona again and returned to Levoslav’s hometown, where he chose to lie low and became the town’s executioner. When Levoslav had decided to become a bohatier, the townspeople celebrated him by renaming the town ‘Levoslavovce’ in his honor. But when Dragomir brought back Levoslav’s corpse and told them of his betrayal, they wanted both to erase the shame attached to his name and to keep the memory of his failure alive through the ritual. So they abandoned the name ‘Levoslavovce’ altogether, leaving the town without a name.

But as days passed, Dragomir realized he couldn’t live without Milena. And so, instead of trying to break the curse blindly, he focused on finding what triggered the reset. He was so convinced it was the sunrise that he didn’t consider any other possibility.

“Everything lined up perfectly. Milena never slept during the day because she had too much work, and whenever she allowed herself to sit down for even a minute, she’d feel guilty.”

“And after all that, the two of us met and witnessed that massacre…”

“Zduhach…” Dragomir gazed up at him. “I want to lay my mother to rest…”

Zduhach smirked. “Of course you do.” He then extended his hand towards Dragomir. “Let’s slay those Rusalki!”

Dragomir took his hand as Zduhach pulled him up. “I’d prefer the term ‘lay to rest’, but sure,” he quipped.

And so, they stood at the edge of the river again, their respective weapons held tightly.

The water song started.

Soon, the six Rusalki danced on the surface of the river. Three of them sent their long hair shooting directly at Zduhach, probably identifying him as the bigger threat.

But Dragomir swiftly cut through their hair before it could reach his partner. However, their singing left Dragomir’s eyes colorless again.

“Debilmir!” Zduhach called out, but as he tried to rush to his side, one Rusalka jumped in front of him. Unable to reach him, Zduhach threw an arrow at Dragomir’s leg. The tip grazed him, just enough to snap him out of it.

Dragomir then leapt at the Rusalka in front of Zduhach, locking an arm around her neck.

“Thanks…!” Zduhach then turned to confront the others.

Dragomir tightened his arm. She gasped and clawed desperately at his forearm.

Then another pair of cold hands wrapped around his wrist.

The chestnut-brown-eyed Rusalka tried to pull his arm away from the struggling spirit.

“Dragomir,” she whispered gently.

He froze.

In that split second, a thought passed through his head.

What was he doing? Each one of them… was at one point probably someone’s mother. Or a sister. Or a lover. Or a daughter.

Dragomir released the Rusalka from his grasp. She stumbled away from him and immediately regrouped with the others dancing on the water.

This was not the way to fight them.

He turned around.

The chestnut-brown-eyed Rusalka was still standing behind him.

“Mom…” he whispered.

And the Rusalka put her hand on his cheek. A single tear escaped Dragomir’s eye. The tear froze. Her hand was too chilly. But to Dragomir, it was the warmest hand in the world.

“Dragomir, I was looking for you.”

“You… remember me?”

“How could I not remember my own son?” Maria said.

“But how…?”

“I always knew who you were. But our last encounter woke me from this cold chaos in my heart.”

Dragomir’s cheek slowly numbed, so he was forced to pull her hand away. He watched her. Even though she was no longer human, those eyes definitely looked human enough. At least to him.

“Zduhach!” he shouted as the archer fought the other five. “Let’s not kill them! Their hearts can be saved!”

Maria smiled. “I’m so proud of you. But you can’t save everybody. We can never leave the river behind.”

As she finished the sentence, she jerked her head behind Dragomir, and then pushed him into the water.

Damn it! She tricked me!

As he emerged from the water, he cried out between gasps. “You bitch!”

But when he looked toward the shore, Maria was sprawled on the grass, her face bloodied. A blood-spattered hammer lay a few steps away from her.

“He killed her.”

“He killed one of our own!”

The other Rusalki’s voices collided as they danced chaotically.

“What’s going on?” Zduhach couldn’t keep up with their movements.

“M-mom…?” Dragomir swam towards the shore and crawled to her body. His hands trembled.

As he held her lifeless hand, a male voice rasped. “Give it back.”

The man was visibly older than either of them. He stared them down with his one eye, gripping the handle of his hammer. His other eye appeared to have been cut out, judging by the scar crossing the empty socket. He had the build of a farmer who had worked the fields relentlessly for years.

Dragomir’s eyes darted between the bloodied hammer on the grass and the other one in his hand. “She… she protected me. That guy… he aimed at me…”

Zduhach rushed to Dragomir’s side. “Hey! What’s going on here? Who’s that guy?”

Dragomir gritted his teeth. “I don’t know… But he…!”

“Give me that thing you have in your pocket.” The man rested his hammer on his shoulder. “And maybe I won’t try to kill you again.”

Chapter 30: END