The pond lay hidden behind a curtain of ancient willow trees whose sweeping branches touched the surface like fingers stroking a mirror. The villagers of Dnistrove rarely visited this place, especially after dusk. They whispered that a Rusalka, a river maiden spirit, lived beneath the roots of the largest willow. She was said to sing with a voice so lovely that even the wind paused to listen. But her beauty masked a sorrowful hunger, for she lured the lonely and grieving into the depths where she dwelled.
Marko had heard these tales his entire childhood, but he refused to fear them. After the sudden passing of his older brother, his grief felt too heavy to carry. He began wandering farther from home, seeking quiet places where he could think. One late afternoon, he found himself near the forbidden pond. The water shimmered like dark glass and the air felt strangely warm, as if urging him to stay.
He sat beneath the great willow, listening to the soft lap of water against its tangled roots. For the first time in weeks, the weight in his chest eased. Alone with the stillness, he closed his eyes.
A gentle voice drifted across the pond. It was a song. Soft. Sweet. Filled with longing. Marko opened his eyes slowly.
On the opposite bank, a woman sat upon the water as if it were solid ground. Her hair floated like riverweed, pale and shimmering. Her skin glowed faintly in the fading light. She smiled, though her eyes held a sadness deeper than the pond itself.
“You sit with such sorrow,” she said. “Why do you grieve alone?”
Marko stared, wondering if this was a dream. “I have lost someone dear,” he whispered.
“I know loss,” the maiden replied. She drifted closer, not swimming but gliding as though carried by invisible currents. “I once lived with laughter in my heart. But the world was unkind. I wandered into the water, seeking peace, and now I remain here.”
Her voice wrapped around Marko like a soft blanket. His heartbeat slowed. The pain inside him seemed to ease. “Is this place peaceful for you?” he asked.
“It can be,” she said. “But only when someone understands my sorrow. Come nearer. Sit at the water’s edge. Speak with me awhile.”
Marko hesitated, remembering the tales. Rusalky were known to lure the grieving with tender words. Yet her face was so gentle and familiar. Her voice felt like comfort itself. He rose slowly and stepped closer to the water.
The Rusalka’s eyes brightened. “Yes,” she whispered. “Only a little closer.”
From the shadows behind the willow, an old woman appeared. Her clothing marked her as Kateryna, the village wise woman, keeper of songs and lore. She had followed Marko when she noticed his wandering footsteps.
“Step away from the water,” Kateryna said firmly.
Marko jolted as if waking. “I was only listening to her.”
The Rusalka turned her grief into anger. Her luminous eyes darkened. “Why do you interfere, old one? He sought comfort. I gave him understanding.”
“You offer nothing but longing and drowning,” Kateryna replied. She stepped beside Marko and held out a woven charm of dried herbs and river stones. “Your voice has caused enough sorrow.”
The Rusalka’s expression shifted. For a moment her face revealed its true form. Her cheeks hollowed. Her eyes became dark pools without light. Her pale hands stretched toward the bank, long fingered and cold.
“You do not understand,” she cried. “I only want the living to stay with me. I am alone beneath the water.”
Kateryna clasped Marko’s shoulder tightly. “That is why you must not pity her. Spirits like her cling to the grieving. They seek warmth they can no longer feel.”
The Rusalka wailed, a sound like wind twisting through broken reeds. She sank back into the water, her shimmering glow fading beneath the willow roots. Ripples spread across the pond and the air grew still.
Marko stepped back, trembling. “Her sorrow felt like my own,” he whispered.
“That is how she draws the grieving,” Kateryna said gently. “She mirrors what is in your heart.”
Marko lowered his head. “I only wanted the pain to quiet.”
“The pain will ease in its time,” she said. “But not in the arms of a water spirit.”
They walked home under the deepening night sky. Though the grief in Marko’s chest remained, it no longer felt as heavy. He understood now that the path through sorrow must be taken with the living, not with voices that drifted from beneath the water.
In the weeks that followed, the villagers strengthened the protective charms around the pond. The willow branches stirred as if restless, but the Rusalka did not rise again. Some nights Marko thought he heard her faint singing deep beneath the roots, but he no longer felt drawn to answer.
He carried his brother’s memory with love, not despair, and he kept away from the lonely pond where sorrow and longing waited beneath the still water.
Author’s Note
Rusalka traditions across the Slavic world describe water maidens who embody longing, death, and unresolved sorrow. They often appear to those who grieve deeply, offering soothing words that hide their true danger.
Knowledge Check
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Why did Marko visit the forbidden pond?
He sought quiet after grieving the loss of his brother. -
How did the Rusalka first appear to Marko?
As a beautiful river maiden sitting on the water. -
What emotion did the Rusalka use to lure Marko closer?
She reflected his grief and offered comfort. -
Who intervened to protect Marko from the spirit?
Kateryna, the village wise woman. -
What object did Kateryna use for protection?
A woven charm of herbs and river stones. -
Why was the Rusalka dangerous?
She sought to draw the grieving into the water to join her.
