While families cried out of joy, kissing their children and praising the gods for curing them, Yaga walked through the depths of the forest. Her only possessions were a bag thrown over her shoulder and a stick she used to lean on. Every step took her further and further in, where there were no trails, and only beasts made prints in the ground. Every step made her hair seem paler, and the wrinkles on her face cut deeper.

“Where are you going?” - a crow asked, sitting on a nearby branch

“Away.” - Yaga cut him off

“You can’t leave… They need your help!” - the bird continued.

“I’m giving it to them.” - the wisdom said.

Crows. Her messengers and helpers, her eyes and ears across the land. Her sister had the stags. Her other sister had the fish. Yaga had the crows. This one leaped from branch to branch, following her close to a place in the forest where the sun could barely sneak through the gaps in the leaves. A small flat patch of grass with a shade so thick you couldn’t be sure about the time of day.

“You’re not out of options. I’m sure you can think of something” - the black messenger continued pleading.

“I already have.” - the woman answered.

“Yaga, they’ll be devastated. You son’s heart will hurt…”

“But it will still be beating.” - Yaga said and the bird thought it saw her brush off a tear - “Sometimes we don’t get to love people the way we want to, and trust me I’m doing this out of love, not cowardice.”

“They will find you. Sooner or later, someone will find his way around here.”

“It’s in their best interest not to.” - Yaga replied.

“The villagers will blame you for it.” - the crow continued.

“I am to be blamed.” - she said.

“They will attribute every misfortune in their life to you.” - the bird said.

“Let them do as they wish as long as they live.” - Yaga said.

The crow jumped on her shoulder, and together they walked towards a small wooden hut. It was no taller than a man on horseback, no longer than two feet spans in any direction.

“I hope they never see what becomes of me. I could do nothing but flee.”

Yaga opened the creaking door of the hut, walking into what appeared to be a giant library, far larger to be contained in the small building. The hut shook, rising in the air on top of two scaly clawed feet. They carried it away deeper into the forest, leaving behind nothing but a memory and a legend. The story of Yaga the witch.