General Fiction posted July 25, 2025

Chapters:

...10 11 -12- 13 ...

tfawcus

Tony Fawcus, ex-RAF Navigator and Junior School teacher, spent 22 years living on South Australia's Fleurieu Peninsula where he ran a small farm and a B&B cottage before his recent move back to Adelaide.

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The Rusalki

A chapter in the book Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate

Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate: 12

by tfawcus

Background
Dmitri suffered from PTSD after his twin sister, Mira, was killed in a bombing in Ukraine. His aptitude for art is fostered by Elena, his carer. Leila works for Elena in her hunting lodge.

'Are you sure this is a shortcut?' Dmitri asked with a shade of doubt in his voice.

'Yes, Elena was talking about it the other day. She said it used to be the main highway between Velinkra and Moreniv. Locals call it the Birch Road.' Leila adopted an air of mock authority. 'She even showed me a book about it. Apparently it dates back to the fourteenth century.'

'Really? But how close does it get to the lodge?'

'Close enough. It runs around the eastern edge of the pine forest. We should be there well before sunset.'

'I hope so. I wouldn't want to be stumbling around here after dark.'

Leila laughed. 'I don't think that's very likely.'

To their right, the upland meadow basked in the warm colours of late autumn. Leila pointed. "Look! A Golden Eagle—just above the trees. Isn't it magnificent?"

Dmitri squinted. "I don't see anything.'

She stepped behind him and stretched her arm over his shoulder to guide his gaze.

'Ah, yes. I see it now.'

They watched, rapt, as the eagle wheeled above a small herd of roe deer grazing near the forest edge.

'Look! They're scattering! One of them's coming this way.'

So engrossed were they in the unfolding drama that they didn't at first register the dull thud of approaching horse hooves. A lone rider emerged at a canter from among the birch trees ahead and was bearing down on them. He was less than a hundred metres away when the panic-stricken hind cleared the hedge directly in front of him, crashed through the undergrowth, and plunged into the river.

The horse reared, wide-eyed and with nostrils flaring. In the next instant, the rider was thrown, landing hard on the path just ahead. Dmitri lunged to catch the reins, but the horse bolted past him. It galloped down the track before coming to a halt two hundred metres on, where it dropped its head and began grazing as if nothing had happened.

Whilst Leila tended to the injured rider, Dmitri walked slowly towards the horse, a handsome bay gelding with steam rising from its sleek mahogany coat. It shied away as he approached, but he spoke in low tones to reassure it, remembering the way he and Mira had calmed strays back home—creatures half-broken by fear or hunger. He plucked a handful of grass from the track's edge and approached slowly, letting the scent do its work. The horse munched, its ears flicking, and Dmitri gently stroked its neck, catching the rein behind its jaw. When he returned, Leila had already fashioned a sling from her scarf and was helping the man sit up.

He thanked them both effusively. 'Next time you're in Velinkra,' he said, 'you must stop by. I'd like to give you something special for your kindness.' He told them he lived near the stone bridge they had recently crossed.

When the man had recovered his equilibrium, Dmitri pointed out a grassy knoll that could serve as a mounting block, and held the gelding steady while Leila helped him remount.

As he disappeared into the distance at a slow trot, Leila said, 'He told me his name is Andriy Kolt. He's an army major on home leave. Such a nice man. How sad he had to injure himself like that.'

Dmitri was less interested in Major Kolt than in the mist slowly rising from the river and drifting across the bridleway.

'We'd better be getting along. This place has an eerie feel about it.'

The incident left them quiet as they walked toward the avenue of birch trees. The boughs arched overhead, forming a ghostly tunnel of white bark and golden leaves. Mists coiled around them like seven veils in a forbidden dance, and the air took on an amber glow, scented with woody sweetness.

Leila pulled her coat tighter. 'It’s like walking into a harem,' she muttered.

'And what do you know about harems, if you don’t mind me asking?'

'They’re places where you have to tell stories to avoid death.'

'Like in The Arabian Nights?'

'Not quite, but close. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day.'

He wished there were no secrets between them. He wanted to know her story as well as she knew his. ‘Elena told me you had to flee from Syria because it was too dangerous for you there. But why Ukraine? Do you have some family connection here?’

His question drifted into the trees unanswered. It was obvious he had broached a subject she didn’t want to talk about.

He felt a flicker of guilt. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.’

'Don’t be.'

The light was already changing. The birches darkened to pewter. The shadows beneath them stretched and tangled, and the leaves murmured overhead in a language neither of them could understand.

Leila slowed. 'Do you get the feeling we're not alone?'

He glanced at her.

'I don't mean people,' she added quickly. 'More like the forest is watching. Like it remembers things.'

He considered. 'Stranger things have happened. But while we're on the subject of stories, have you heard about the Rusalki?'

'About what?'

He smiled slightly. 'Water spirits. Some say they're the souls of drowned girls. Others say they're maidens betrayed by lovers. They haunt rivers and lakes... and birch woods, like this.'

Leila gave him a look. 'You're trying to frighten me, aren't you?'

'No, but I remember a story our grandmother used to tell when Mira and I were small. Maybe it will help to pass the time. Don't worry, it's not scary.'

'All right, then,' Leila said. 'Let's take a trip down memory lane.'

'This sprite was different,' Dmitri said softly. 'She lived by a quiet river near a village like mine. In the evenings, she sang to the birch trees, and the leaves leaned towards her to listen. One day, a boy passed that way. He was lonely. He'd suffered a great loss. She called out to him, and her voice sounded like water rippling over stones. She invited him to come closer.'

'So? What did he do?'

'He stepped into the water and let her take his hand. They say he walks with her still, under the reeds, and that if you pass that way at dusk, you can hear them singing.'

A breeze stirred, carrying the faint sound of rustling leaves. Or something like them.

She looked at him. 'I wonder. Did he love her? Or did he only love what he'd lost?'

'I think he loved her. At least, he'd better have done, because when you upset a Rusalki, she's liable to tickle you to death. But this one didn't want to hurt him,' Dmitri added, 'unlike others of her kind.'

'Oh, really,' Leila said with an evil glint in her eye. She lunged towards him with her fingers stretched out like claws.

He cried out in mock terror and raced towards the lights flickering through the trees. When he reached the lodge gate, he turned, and Leila, with laughter catching in her throat, flew straight into his arms. But before she could start tickling, he pinioned her and kissed her languorously, and without hesitation.

She melted into him, and for a breathless moment, it was as if they were one body and one soul.

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Characters

Dmitri, a teenage boy recovering from catatonia (a state in which someone is awake but does not seem to respond to other people and their environment).
Mira, his twin sister, who was killed in a bomb attack.
Elena, a volunteer carer looking after Dmitri and aiding his recovery.
Leila, a foreign girl employed by Elena.
Pavla Miret, an art teacher.

Setting: Somewhere in Central Europe.

British English spelling and grammar are used throughout.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I welcome honest, constructive criticism.

Image by Andrey Shishkin, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution license.

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