The group went back to the village, where instructions were given to prepare for a feast in three days time, as the beginning of spring was near. Risa and Laszlo were included in the preparations, and both were kept busy during the day, cutting and preparing the many stored vegetables and meats.

On the evening before the feast, Laszlo and Risa were sitting at his small table in his hut, quietly eating the stew that had been simmering for the past three days.

“I can’t believe it’s almost time to go home, Mr. Laszlo. I only hope I can play my part in this ritual properly. What am I to do, by the way?” Risa asked as she scooped up the dregs of the stew with a crust of bread.

Laszlo sighed. He knew this moment was coming, and he dreaded answering the poor child. Clearing his throat, he said, “You will need to brave some very cold waters, and using the magical blade Svarog has given unto me, I will sever your connection with the demon. The process will not be completely painless, unfortunately. Thankfully, it will only hurt about as much as when Ruger got your finger.”

Risa shrank back at the mention of being severed from Katira. Severed? Like, gone? She loved her sweet bear! And Katira, in turn, loved her. Tears formed in her eyes as she sat there, processing the information.

“But… I love her. I don’t want to be separated from her! She’s soft, protective, and does her best to keep me safe. Why do I have to be cut off from her? Why?!” she wailed.

Laszlo looked down sadly. He’d become attached to this child during her time here. “I’m sorry, Risa. Svarog has supplied me with the means to rid this world of a demon. A means that my predecessors have searched for for five hundred years. A means that I was given. A means that I will use. I do not do this to hurt you. That isn’t something I want. I’ve grown to enjoy, and to even look forward to your presence here in my small home.

“You are a sweet, gentle, and most importantly, a bright young lady. The exact qualities I’d have wanted in my own children, had I been allowed to have any. These past few weeks have been more enjoyable and pleasant than any winter I’ve ever had. Causing you pain -of any sort-” -Laszlo raised his head, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears- “is honestly the last thing I wish to do.

“However, you were sent to me for a reason, and I must see that reason through, or I have no business calling myself a priest of Svarog. We finish what we began, Risa. It’s one of our central beliefs. I simply must see this through to the end. Will you please follow through with the ritual? I swear to make it as painless as I possibly can,” he said earnestly. “You are free to hate me afterwards, and to leave and never return, if that is your wish,” he finished in a strangled voice.

Risa sat there in shock. He liked having her here? Her own mother only seemed to tolerate her presence. Understanding dawned on her. Slowly, she started to back away. She wasn’t about to do the vile things her mother had explained to her. Not for any reason.

“Risa? What’s going on? Why are you acting like I’m about to attack you?” Laszlo asked in confusion.

“Mother told me what I’d have to do to you in order to go home. I’m not doing that. I’m going to gather my things, and I’m going to go find Katira and go home. I won’t do that. Ever,” she said shakily.

Laszlo rose from his seat and watched the child go to her cot to gather her things. Slowly, he edged himself to the door, so as to block her escape.

“Risa. Please allow me the courtesy of a question. Would you do that? Once I’ve asked and you’ve answered, and I’ve responded to your concerns, you may leave if you still feel it necessary. Please?” Laszlo said earnestly.

Risa’s heart began hammering in her chest as she saw how trapped she was. Knowing how much bigger and stronger he was, she held her pack in front of her like a shield.

“Ask.”

“What were you told you’d have to do with me?”

Risa stared at him. How could he not know what happened to her grandmother? It was an open family secret. They never spoke about it, but they all knew what the old priest had done. What Laszlo’s father had done to her grandmother during her entire stay.

“You know what he did to her. You know what your father did to my grandmother, don’t you?” Risa asked. “Don’t you?!” she shouted.

Laszlo raised his hands placatingly, his face screwed up in confusion. What was she talking about? All Laszlo had ever heard of Marishka was that she had been quite pleasant to have.

“Wait a moment. All I ever heard of your Nana was that she was a pleasant child to have around. Besides, she was here before I was born. What do you mean ‘what my father did to her’?” Laszlo asked.

Risa glared at Laszlo’s confused face. There was no way he didn’t know what his father did to her Nana.

Or did he?

Slowly, doubt began to intrude upon her mind. Perhaps Laszlo was being truthful. Perhaps his father never spoke of it? At any rate, she was trapped in the tiny hut, and with nothing but the truth separating her from a prison and freedom, she decided to lay it bare.

“Your father forced my Nana to lay with him the way a wife would.”

“What?”

Laszlo dropped to his knees. His father had done what? “No… That’s just not… there’s no way that he…” he said in a strangled whisper. “Are you certain, Risa?” he asked, tears filling his eyes once more.

“Yes. She described him in great detail. The entirety of the tale is burned into my mother’s memory, as Nana began to lose her mind near the end of her life. She died screaming about what she endured here from your father. Yes, Mr. Laszlo. I’m very certain,” Risa stated forcefully, glaring into his eyes.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tears dripped down Laszlo’s cheeks as he fully comprehended his father’s monstrosity. So many tiles fell into place for him at that moment. So many little things that he hadn’t understood as a child just clicked for him. The arguments his parents would have late in the evening, the disdainful way his mother treated his father up to the day he died, the complete lack of sorrow she felt when he died, and most importantly, the hatred his father had for the demon that Risa’s family bore.

The same hatred that had been taught to him.

Laszlo wept on his knees in front of the door. Wept for the loss of innocence that this family had had to endure for generations. Wept for the theft his father had committed against Marishka. Shame gnawed at his belly. Sure, he hadn’t performed those vile acts, but it was now part of the legacy of his family. A dark stain that he had no way of knowing how to clean.

“Risa, I….” he started, an arm outstretched toward the child, then stopped, his arm falling limply into his lap. His chin drooped onto his chest. “I had no idea. The records stated only how much of a joy she was to have here. He recorded her age, the shape the demon had taken, and only that she was compliant and sweet,” he said, then snorted. “Of course she was compliant. She was only eight. And true to tradition, the demon had been sent to the woods. So that it wouldn’t attempt to fight back. How could I have been so blind?” he said. Looking up at the girl in front of him, he said simply, “I’m sorry, Risa. Nothing like that should have ever happened.” Looking up towards the ceiling, he said, “I’m sorry, Marishka. My father should never have touched you.” Steeling himself and nodding, he stood.

Risa watched him warily. “What are you doing, Mr. Laszlo?” she asked.

“Svarog gave me a sign, child. I intend to follow through with the ritual. As long as you are willing, that is. It will be the final ritual in this saga involving your family. I swear it. Whether it succeeds or not, no other member of your family will come here again. Please do not fear me as you no doubt did when you first arrived. I will not touch you in the way my father did to your Nana,” he said, then sighed as he sat back down. He motioned for her to join him at the table.

Warily, Risa sat. She kept her pack hugged to her chest.

“Risa, I’m old. I have no heir. There will be no priest of Svarog here in Blek after I’ve passed. Like I said before, I have enjoyed having you here. If I were to have had a child, I would only hope that they would be just like you. If you would prefer me sleeping elsewhere tonight, I shall. If you still wish to leave, I’ll not stop you, nor will I send anyone after you. I only ask that you trust me, and not allow the taint of what my father did to color your thoughts on me,” Laszlo said, allowing the weight of his years settle into his body.

Risa sat in silence, fidgeting with her pack. “Mr… Mr. Laszlo, I don’t think you are a bad man. You did have a bad father, I think. You haven’t given me any reason to think you would do something like that. I’m just scared. And eager to get home, I think. You say your father is gone? How long ago?” she asked.

“Twenty years. He died at Midsummer twenty years ago. Mind you, I am not sorry at all that he has gone. He wasn’t the best of fathers, nor was he a very good husband,” he said softly.

Risa frowned. Mr. Laszlo wasn’t a bad man, just an odd and lonely one. “Mr. Laszlo?”

“Hmm?”

“You seem like you need a sweetroll. Would you like to go get a sweetroll?” Risa asked quietly.

Laszlo sniffled and smiled. “A sweetroll would be just the thing. Lets go,” he said as he stood.

The next morning, final preparations for the feast began. Several homes began cooking the meat from the aurochs; each adding their own specialties to the preparation. Even the metalworker had contributed.

Laszlo guided Risa through her final daily ritual, and then let her have the rest of the day to her own devices.

“I’ll be back, Mr. Laszlo. I’m going to get Miss Sinta, so she can enjoy the feast,” she said as she pulled her pack onto her back.

“Okay. Please be safe,” he said as she walked out the door.

After Risa had left, Laszlo Syvin took stock of his tiny home. Gazing around in a nostalgic trance, he remembered how he had obtained each piece of mismatched decoration.

That small statue on the hearth came from a grateful carpenter, after Laszlo had healed his son of a wasting sickness. The man had carved a likeness of Svarog Himself from a branch of oak in gratitude. He and his family had also donated a month’s worth of meat from his herd of goats. As Laszlo had only himself to care for, he was able to stretch that into nearly three month’s worth of food. He smiled at the memory, warmth filling his heart.

The blue pot that occupied the space opposite the statue had come from a grieving father. He had lost his wife and daughter to one of the wild cats that lived in the area. Laszlo had helped the man slay the creature that took his family, and made certain they were buried with all the honor he could give them. The potter had given him a pot, platter and cup, though only the pot remained, now. It was filled with the crushed remnants of the other two, and Laszlo kept it as a reminder that even the most meager of gifts can have deep significance.

There were several tiny dolls and keepsakes he had been given by the few orphans he fostered, as well. He smiled at their memories. They hadn’t helped him decipher the prophecy any further, but knowing he had helped them go to loving homes still made him smile

He had several other items that adorned his walls and shelves. He took them all in, remembering how he had gotten them, and from whom. Grateful people, all. Laszlo had done much good in his world, and now he faced the most monumental task he had ever seen. Could he finally cleanse Risa’s family of the taint of the demon?

He snorted derisively. Did it even matter, anymore? After he was gone, there would be no priest of Svarog to help this village. Or the world, for that matter. At any rate, he had to prepare the hut for a temporary third occupant. Deciding that he was likely done using his workshop for the immediate future, he began to convert the tiny room above it into sleeping quarters, as he expected Sinta to stay with them for the evening.

Sinta. Now there was a woman. Brave, clever, kind, and quite comely. Idly, Laszlo wondered if she would ever consent to…

He quickly quashed that line of thinking, and shook his head. He was a holy man of Svarog. If He wanted Laszlo to have a partner in life, He would have shown her to him. Laszlo put the finishing touches on the sleeping pallet, and set a pot of water to boil for tea. As an afterthought, he sprinkled some dried juniper and cedar shavings onto the coals, filling his small hut with the bright aroma of spring. He then changed into his ritual attire, and began his mental preparations to begin both the feast and the ritual.

About thirty minutes later, Risa came into the hut with Sinta in tow. As they entered the hut, Sinta paused to sniff the air.

“Juniper and cedar, Mr. Syvin? A most welcome choice, I think,” she said, smiling brightly.

“Yes, Miss Sinta. I thought it appropriate, as the feast is to celebrate springtime, and the full moon. Juniper to celebrate the moon and-”

“Cedar to herald the bright beginning of spring. As I said, it is a most welcome choice,” Sinta said, interrupting the priest with a warm smile.

“Precisely,” Laszlo said, dumbfounded. Few people understood the importance of incense. Shaking his head to rid himself of a meandering mind, he continued. “Place your belongings in that room there, if you’d like. I’ve made a pallet for you, in case you’d like to stay the night? I know the two of you are eager to get Risa home. After tonight, neither of you will ever have to see me again,” Laszlo finished.

“I have had a rather varied life, Mr. Syvin. I’ve been to many places and done many things. Small comforts like a home and incense mean much to me. I appreciate the effort you’ve gone to in order to tidy up the place, and to make it feel more like a home to us,” Sinta said, favoring Laszlo with a smile as she placed her pack in the small room.

Laszlo poured the tea and the trio sat and talked until nearly noon, when the baker, Oleg Čermák, knocked on the door.

“Mister Syvin? We are ready to begin the feast. We need only have your invocation to begin, sir.”

“We are on our way, Mr. Brevik!” Laszlo called back, and then stood. “Well, ladies? Are you ready to eat until you pop?” he asked, offering his arm to Sinta, who stood and took it.

“Why yes, Mr. Syvin. I think we are. Let’s go eat, Risa!” she said, as her slender arm wrapped around Laszlo’s.

“Yay! Good food!” Risa exclaimed as they all left the hut.