Chestnuts with domovoy
{Throughout the centuries, in different European cultures, domovoys had been depicted as guardians of home, hearth and fields villagers cultivated. Domovoy is the name used in Russian folklore and it affected how these creatures were imagined among other Slavic demos. In Czech they are sometimes called Děduška (meaning grandpa), in Belorussian Damavik, in Croatian Domaći (meaning at home, someone local), in Slovenian Škrat (dwarf) and so on...}
A fire is burning in the fireplace. Above it, a pan pull of unroasted, sizzling chestnuts held by a small old man sitting in a rocking wooden chair. The man has a red cap on top of his potato-like head overgrown with thick white beard. He hunches over the fireplace, eager to see whether the chestnuts had gotten any browner since he last checked them, with his clear blue eyes sparkling like those of a child. He disappointedly sighs out and sits back, wrapping his little body in a warm blanket for although he is near the fire, freezing air passes through the cracks between the door and the wall and terrorizes those of poor blood flow. As he waits for his treat to be ready to eat, little man looks through the window. There´s snow outside and the children are still playing, pretending to ignore their parents´ calls to get inside before the dark falls. Old man smiles, remembering…
Remembering what?
Well, his whole centuries long life. For this little man isn´t just an old man, no, no, but a retired domovoy. “How unfair!”, he mutters to himself, for there isn´t anyone that could hear him. “A retired domovoy! Who´s ever heard of such a thing? Disgrace.” The smell of burning; his chestnuts are more than prepared! As he removes the peels of the roasted goodies, good old domovoy assumes an expression of a proud, wise man that he truly is. The first impression of him as of a poor, old fellow might or might not have been correct, but it is sure that his history makes him much complicated and interesting than that.
He throws the waste in the fireplace and watches it disappear. He hears carols from the outside and looks towards the tree next to him. His household members had decorated it and left in a hurry to visit their relatives, leaving him all alone and forgotten. “It wasn´t always like that”, he fusses, “in the old days, nobody would forget a house guardian like that! No, no!” Not even the youngest and to his heart dearest of them all, a young girl named Anabel, remembered to leave him some of her candy or give him instructions (not that he needed them; he´d been taking care of this same house for centuries!).
All the chestnuts were gone before he even realized. “Oh, well”, he sighed in despair. Times change, but he can´t adopt to them as quickly as he should in order to catch up with everyone moving on. “Perhaps I really am an old, grumbling old man.” But he doesn´t believe in it any more even after saying it. A good and loyal old-fashioned domovoy like him could never admit that the present times had overrun him and that he should change.
“No, sir”, he suddenly stands up and speaks although someone in the fire listens to him. “I´ve had my fair cup of work and I´d be pleased to continue with it if only someone could put up with me!” But there´s nobody in the fireplace.
Or is there?
“Come out of there”, he invites them.
And the little elves made of fire jump out on the carped under his feet. Every domovoy instructed in his craft knows which spirits reside in his house. Fire fellows, little helpers of Svarog1, are his old acquaintances; they´ve been living here as long as he has! After a frenzy of jumping and skipping around, chasing each other like children playing (whose personalities they resemble), beholding the magnificence of the decorated tree and finding out that the old man had left them no chestnuts, they gather around his slippers with tilted heads, silently begging him to tell them a story.
“Ah, you guys”, domovoy pretends to be modest, “my life wouldn´t be interesting to you…” But they (silently) insist, and a real domovoy needs no more encouragement to prattle about his favorite topic (besides him home and household); himself.
I. In the beginning….
“In the beginning, we lived in our own village”, he starts his story, “or which I know not when was it built, for I wasn´t one of the descendants of the first generation. When I was a child, us, domovoys, lived in clans, and each clan occupied one village. We lived in the north, where it was cold more often than warm, but you know my kind. We´re the best in both housekeeping, raising kids and taking care of the crops, so we had everything we needed. After all, what we lacked, we easily made! Children were taught from their earliest days how to cook, repair broken tools, clean, everything was taught through play! We were also encouraged to expand our imagination because the best domovoy isn´t just a master craftsman, householder and a farmer, but also an inventor! Whenever a new technology was brought up, or a machine built, everyone had to learn how to use and apply it. The society of domovoys was was well developed and civilized.
A home in which a family of domovoys resides is the warmest one you can find. I still remember how we all used to gather for lunch and dinner… And we ate a lot! We prepared our meals together. We even fought about who will take which obligation when it came to cooking because everybody loved preparing meals for their loved ones. Not like today, when parents struggle about what to give their kids to eat and in the absence of inspiration give them frozen food. No! We grew our own food and it made us appreciate it much more than people nowadays do.
Everyone knew everyone in the village. We sang together as we worked, we celebrated the change of each season and spread happiness. We respected the nature and often talked with trees, flowers and stones, or told stories to birds and squirrels who wanted to listed; and trust me, many animals could hardly wait to hear domovoy´s narration! We are famous for our storytelling, you know…
Anyway, I was one of the last domovoys to spend childhood in an authentic domovoy village. Us youngsters didn´t attend school. All the education we needed was at hand in our homes, and I don´t mean books (though I must admit each domovoy family owned a commendable collection of different writings, recipes and textbooks). I can still see my old pa showing me how to perfectly chop wood. Not like people do it today, without precision, just to be done with it, but so that there´s no splinters left, and the surface of the wood is completely smooth. He had also taught me how to make the best dough for cookies, using the smallest possible amount of ingredients, yet getting the exact desirable non-sticky, perfectly sweet mixture for the just right amount of treats. My mother taught me how to hand sew the most beautiful and warm sweaters. She also showed me how to prepare the best home-made shampoos and detergents, which definitely beat the modern ones bought in the store.
However, when I came of mature age, things began to change. You see, us domovoys have big hearts and we care more for others than for ourselves. Even when we lived together in one village, each domovoys priority was to help a neighbor whenever it was possible. The situations these tensions brought could turn out quite funny! Once, one of my brothers (and I had many brothers and sisters) was very eager to help a lady domovoy who lived in a house next to ours. The thing was this lady´s roof was damaged by a storm and he wanted to repair it. He was known for having deft hands for such things, while the lady was known for all other kind of things, but house repairs were her weak spot. She was unwilling to admit this and wouldn´t let my brother help her out. She wanted to do it by herself, and almost destroyed the roof completely! She surrendered in the end. My brother fixed it in one day. In return, she cooked tons of her special raspberry jams just for him. Jams were her specialty.
What was I saying? Ah, yes, when things changed. It was the time when humans began to build their homes. Poor creatures, so inexperienced, they were hopeless! Domovoys wanted to help them, but we were scared how would they react if we showed ourselves, so we did it in secret. Houses big enough for five domovoy families appeared over night! Now, humans weren´t stupid. They realized someone must´ve helped them, so they left us gifts in return. Poor things, their presents were nothing compared to what we already had, but we we´re grateful anyway and continued to help them. As the time passed, we secretly helped them tame cattle, maintain crops, store food and wood during the winter… We left them some of our recipes which they then adapted to their taste. That´s how they came up with the first and the best national dishes! After some time, we got tired of our secrecy. We especially liked human children, so imaginative and playful, so naturally we opened ourselves to them first. My company, four of us, as I recall, joined in a game with ten children. They we´re confused at first, but so were we! They called us fairies and elves, but we didn´t like those names. Years passed before someone addressed us with a title of domovoy. I heard it was when a poor man´s daughter was at a deathbed and someone from our village left him a remedy on the doorstep. The man was so grateful he dedicated the rest of his life convincing everyone he could that domovoys were taking care of their homes and children. When others prayed to gods old and new, he prayed to us. It was a bit too much, if you ask me, but I´d prefer that kind of dedication much more than today´s disrespect!
This was how we started raising human children, but ages passed before we came in front of grown up people. And when some of us gathered courage to do so, it was the oldest people they showed themselves to first. Old people were too tired to make a fuss, but we surprised them nevertheless. Having experience with unknown helpers of the households, grandpas and grandmas rich and poor accepted us as good friends. Since they´re often forgotten by their near ones, they enjoyed talking to us. This is how the first legends about domovoys were designed and, later, written. Grandparents who saw domovoys told their grandchildren about them, grandchildren met them outside in the play… And adults? Well, domovoys got so close to human villages we hardly spent any time away from them, so it was only a matter of time until someone saw us! We looked over the sheep, worked in the fields, baby-sited children, helped prepare the feast in the palaces… And we loved it! Humans knew we were there and they we´re glad to have us around. Cooks left us cakes, sugar and honey, children hid pieces of bread and carried them to us, some gifted us with clothes or handicrafts…
I think domovoy villages still exist. After all, domovoy children must be raised somewhere! However, most of us prefer to leave our birthplace and settle down in a human household. But it´s not as simple as it was when I first settled here, no, no…”
Old domovoy stops talking. Fire-beings are staring at him in awe of the rest of the story. The dark has fallen outside. Domovoy gets up to light the Christmas lights on the tree. He boils water for the tea, but when he drinks it, his face turns into an unsatisfied grimace. “This tea ain´t right”, he complains, but continues drinking. “Not like in the old times. Not like the one us domovoys used to prepare! But, oh, all the forest is long gone.” He points at the suburban lamps through the window. “There´s nowhere I can go to look for leaves to make the delicious tea. I guess there´re still forests, but not here. But I remember there used to be trees and bushes and only a few wooden houses…”
II. First time leaving birthplace…
“Manny had already left to live in human houses and take care of their fellow humans full time. My parents, as all parents do, tried to keep their children at home for as long as they could, but our departure was inevitable. Five of us left together, but we parted soon. My dear friends, in the same place where we are sitting now, there used to be a small house. The family which lived in it was barely founded; a husband and a pregnant wife. They were dear people and they loved each other very much. Their families didn´t approve of their union, so they didn´t help them settle them. Outrageous! Domovoys would never abandon their kin like that. Luckily, I arrived just in time to help them. I turned the barely-standing house into a fine building, compelled wild cattle to obey the man and regularly milked them. The man wasn´t a farmer before leaving his childhood home, so he knew nothing about new kind of life he was doomed to! I had no choice but to show myself to him. It was in a barn I had built, He was more than shocked, but he figured I wanted to help him. I showed him how to milk a cow. He was quick and learned without problems. We became friends. Kind as she was, as soon as he told his wife about me, she took care of rewarding me, so I ate all the delicious food they did and was allowed to come inside and get warm beside the fireplace whenever I wished. I also helped when the woman, named Evelin, was giving a birth to her first daughter. Evelin and Bram had a lovely daughter they called Elma. I helped Evelin take care of Elma and the children which came later. Sadly, two of them died in the infant age, but the family remained strong and filled the house with love.
Elma and her sisters left after they found husbands, but Evelin and Bram´s only son, Sigmund, stayed to live in his birthplace. During this time, other people began to settle around. Trees were cut down and new houses built.
“This is a property now”, Sigmund told me, “the land was given to the honorable knight who served the king in the battle. He is our sovereign now.”
Which king and which knight, I knew not, but neither of them seemed honorable to me. Sigmund had to give a lot of his crops to this sovereign of ours, but got nothing in return. The price only grew higher and Sigmund, whose family was once well-standing and had everything needed for a comfortable life, endured hunger and discouragement. He was no position to ask a girl he liked to marry him, and the new settlers weren´t fond of him. They called him an indigene and refused to help him. He died young and without children or friends. I was really sad, but also scared! As all domovoys do, I got attached to the house and leaving it was not an option, but the family I took care of was gone and I knew not what to do!
The honourable knight decided instead of me. He ordered the house to be destroyed and nothing I tried stopped him. He had his own domovoy, and he was just selfish just like his master. I say master even though I never thought of myself as of someone under the command of a master. There are two kinds of domovoys as I see it; those who live with humans in friendship and those who surrender to be their servants to get what their lust demands. Knight´s domovoy was ruthless and violent and he protected his master by all means. I was helpless.
But the knight built a bigger house made of stone. It was meant for a tenant whose job was to overlook the property while the knight himself spent his days in idle pleasures.
I was scared of the new man, but the house was nice. When the winter came, I´d sneak up into the house and hid beside the fireplace. I stole treats from the pantry. The tenant was an intelligent man and my actions didn´t stay unnoticed for long. To my surprise, he wasn´t bothered by my mischief.
“If you are friendly, I humbly welcome you, spirit”, he spoke standing in the dining room while I eavesdropped, “and I offer you gifts. However, if you have evil intentions, I urge you to live before I cast you out.” He left the food on the table and left the house. Roasted chicken, cooked apples, quail wings and sweetened plums, cakes just taken out of the oven… Delicious! Naturally, I accepted the tenant´s offer of friendship and returned to my work. Though sloppy for domovoy principles, he had servants, so there was a lack of work for me in the house, but I could still take special care of the crops and the cattle, add special spices in porridges, keep the fire burning in the fireplace during the cold nights… I never forgot that this man and this new house came at the expense of my old friends, but it wasn´t his fault, but the knight´s. Domovoys can do lots of things, but we can´t change the past. I had to accept reality, and it wasn´t that bad at all. At least not right in the start…”
III. Meeting the enemy…
Fire creatures´ eyes were fixed on an emptied cup domovoy left on the stand next to the fireplace. Kneeling down, he ignited the dying fire. “Well, not everyone liked us domovoys. I know that´s hard to believe, but it´s true. As much as we were fond of humans, we soon found out that though their hearts are big and filled with kindness, there´s a lot of space left for hatred and malice. Sadly, I experienced the manifestations of these flaws of humans sooner than I hoped to.
The good tenant wasn´t going to live alone in the big house”, domovoy continued, settled in his chair once again, “he invited his sister to live with him. Alexandra, her name was. Alexandra was a terribly serious lady who always wore an expression of reserved dignity on her face. It was as if she was wearing a mask. She barely ever smiled and kept away from all the pleasures life could offer her. You see, she spent her girlhood in a monastery where rules were strict and girls were taught to be obedient and very prayerful. At that time, I wasn´t aware that people had embraced the new God and started to neglect the old ones. Another thing I was ignorant about was that the new prophets, priests and monks, disliked those such as I was and pronounced us devil´s creatures. Alexandra was raised to think of domovoys as of evil beings, but her brother knew this, so he decided not to mention that he had a cotenant before her arrival.
Alexandria didn´t come alone. After leaving the monastery, her parents found her a rich husband, no more than twenty years her senior. However, he died, leaving her with twin little daughters and voluminous legacy. Poor little girls! I felt their pain as she forced them to spend their first and last hours awake on their knees, praying to the God. They had little to no time for games because Alexandria tried as hard as she could to occupy them with jobs not intended for children to stop them from having fun, for she thought that would estrange them from God. It was my duty to help them. I used tricks to distract Alexandria and help her daughters escape. I´d open the window in the room in which they were sitting sewing for hours. She´d close it, but I´d open it again right after she´d sit back down. I´d repeat this mischief dozens of times until Alexandria was driven into rage and madness and lost supervision over her daughters. I showed myself to the little ones. They were too innocent to accept Alexandria´s vicious perceptions about domovoys, so they gladly followed me. I showed them secret passages in the house through which only small children, animals and domovoys could pass through. We played together as much as we wanted while Alexandria was losing her head looking for her daughters. I´m well aware how horrible it is to cause such a worry for children to a parent, but Alexandria wasn´t a very good parent. I´d never do such a thing to someone like Evelin or Bram.
Another time, I remember she forced them to write Decalogue, or some kind of God´s special commands to Christians, as much as I figured, thousand times! Their hands were shaking, they were tired and hungry, but Alexandria was merciless. I had to help them! I behaved very naughty. I took a freshly made pudding from the kitchen and, disregarding all of my father´s teachings about never throwing food away, sneaked behind Alexandria´s chair and spilled it on her head. Nobody saw me besides her daughters! They were struggling not to burst into laughter, but Alexandria was ready to turn into fire. I ran out of the room, little girls with me, and their mother screamed and screamed until a servant came. When we came back home, it was already dark. Cleaned and calmed as much as she could´ve been, Alexandria was leading a verbal battle with her brother. She knew something was wrong with the house. She thought it was possessed! She called a priest to bless the home and paid him to stay to advise and protect her. Her brother didn´t like the idea, but had to agree. Saying no to Alexandria was an impossible task.
She became more strict towards her daughters than before. She locked them in one room and would let them out only when they went to church. But I outwitted her once again. I planted a special ivy under the small window in their room. They were able to exit through the window and climb down. However, my position after the incident with pudding got worse. The tenant knew it was I who constantly messed with his sister. He didn´t want any more accidents, so he forbid me to enter the home. But his heart wasn´t as cold as his sister´s, so when the winter came, he let me come inside to warm myself up, but only during the night when Alexandria and the priest were fast asleep. As for gifts, they became rare, but now I had new suppliers. Alexandria´s daughters quickly realised that I lacked energy, so they´d sneak out with cakes and honey hidden in pockets. You see, after years serving and befriending the humans, we became dependent on the gifts they left us. Just a little bit of honey or sugar, a gingerbread or a slice of home-made bread was enough to brighten us up! But without it, we were doomed.
Good tenant passed away and his sister inherited much of what he built and earned through the hard-working years. The brute knight, now older and richer than before, came to visit after the funeral. Him and Alexandria got on very well, without surprise, and got married only two months later. Alexandria´s two daughters were young ladies by this time and though they behaved religious and obedient in front of their mother, they were truly adventurous and curious, as all young people should be! They never stopped bringing me gifts. I loved them very much, but when the knight became their stepfather, it was decided to whom they shall be married. One of them, a wild child, escaped before the time came for her to marry. The thought of being given to an unknown man, in an unknown house, was so repulsive to her she rather choose to flee! Her sister wasn´t as brave, so she married at the age of seventeen. I never saw her again.
Alexandria moved to knight´s castle and my home was left without a master. I wasn´t completely alone, for servants still worked there in case the knight or his bride decided to visit. To my luck, these were old-fashioned folks of the most jolly and simple kind, and they knew me for a long time. They allowed me to enter and help them out whenever I wanted. They treated me with respect for they knew how much a domovoy is important to a household. I had everything I needed, but I missed my friends.
Years later, when the sons on knight´s grandsons inherited his lands, the king, whomever he was and whatever he called himself, called his vassals to take weapon and join him in the war. Big battles were led around the country. I saw lost, wounded soldiers mooching around, trying helplessly to find their way home through the forest. Horrible wars changed everything. Carriers of different, yet similar cultures from the east, reshaped our customs. Foreigners conquered the land I called my home. I watched in fear as they listed the servants. Only one of them knew our language and he informed them that their master was defeated. But these conquerors weren´t brutal as we expected them to be. They didn´t hurt anyone, but allowed them to stay in the house to serve the new master.”
IV. New masters…
“I´d never heard of such delicacies before”, domovoy laughed, “and such strange names they had! Rahatlokum2, baklava3, cabbage rolls and unusual spices! New master brought challenges and difficulties, but he was a stout, reasonable man who laughed a lot. He never complained if the servants messed some of their obligations up, for he was aware that he brought a strange culture to them and the time was necessary to get used to it.
The new master was wise and organized the land so that it was more prosperous than ever. Sadly, his reign was short-lived, for he died only four years after settling down, in one of the many battles which were to come. As soon as one war ended, another one was announced, each one fought for the same ideals and each finishing without a final conclusion. The masters shifted like ants, so I can hardly remember each one of them. I do have a clear memory of one master. He was still just a boy when he earned the land in a war, but at those times young boys were forced to play men. He was the first one who was frightened by my appearance. When I showed myself to him, he started to jump around and yell all kinds of vulgar accusations at me; “demon, ghost, goblin!” Dissatisfied with the local servants, he brought new ones from his homeland. I was disappointed to find out that they belonged to the new generations who knew very little about domovoys and mostly ignored me.
When the wars finally became less frequent, once prosperous land on which I built house for Evelin and Bram was deserted and infested. Peasants had fled to the cities to look for better life opportunities and generations of weak masters incapable of taking care of the estate left it undesirable for new possible settlers. I spent years alone in an abandoned house, living like a poor human. For the first time since I left, I truly missed my home and wondered whether it would´ve been better if I had stayed with my parents.
The house I had built was unexpectedly tore down while I was still sleeping inside of it. Unknown to me, the land, although long abandoned, was apparently still in the possession of a descendant of the last master who earned it by fighting in the war a century or so ago. The new owner didn´t want an old house, even though it was good as new since a hard-working domovoy was taking care of it. He wanted a new house.
More of the forest was cut down and a new building was built; a palace! Made with new materials, with fences made of iron and big glassy widows, it was so grand it made me jiggle from the excitement.
The new master was a young man, a rich burgher not used to village life, who wanted to get out of the city. He moved in with his big family which included his parents, wife, three children, aunt and sister. My first attempt of reaching to them was, of course, through the children, but strangely enough I wasn´t accepted as I had been before. They doubted I was real and ignored me! I was so sad! I thought I could embrace the new age, but I had been separated from humans for so long, I didn´t realise how human nature must´ve changed in that period of time!
I curled inside of a hen house because I didn´t feel welcome inside the walls of a newly built palace. A scream woke me up in the morning. It was a young girl checking whether the hens had laid any eggs. Master´s sister. Having had my fair cup of bad experience with sisters, I was prepared to flee. I was very surprised when I heard her kind voice: “Poor little thing! You look starved!” She run away and returned with cakes wrapped in cloth. Such a refreshment I didn´t have for years! Finally, a decent gift from a human being!
Her condolence and love gave me strength to start my vocation again. I guarded the house, took care of the new master´s dogs (he had plenty of beautiful playful terriers), kept an eye on the food bills and supplies, repaired faults in the house before anyone else noticed them… A modern domovoy, but still a domovoy!
Luckily for me, it was the master´s sister who continued to live inside the house when others died or moved out. This admirable woman was a real mistress of the house, kept everything in order at all times, but he was also a child of the new age, and the new era offered women a chance to find their voice in the world. She studied science and wrote scripts about her researches which made her famous among young scientists! She never married, but she adopted two boys from the orphanage and taught them to honour their domovoy. They passed this learning to their children and so on…
Then the war came again and the house was left empty for it had been filled with generations of boys. When the horrible war ended, I was masterless and alone again. The house was confiscated by the country.”
V. Home becomes…
“A town. That´s what the new era demanded, a city with all the newest technologies which enable people to lead a fine life without the need of domovoys.” He sighed out. His story was getting farther from the past and nearer to present days. “And the palace was turned into one of the buildings with many apartments. We´re sitting in one of them at the moment. People moved in and out, staying barely enough for me to memorize their names. And I was growing weaker and weaker and had to steal food to survive. But what food! New people, modern folk, they´re so busy, always in a rush, they have no time to prepare decent meals, no time to tell stories, no time for anything but useless work!” He stops himself and looks into the fire. “Perhaps I´m to harsh. After all, I´ve seen many a good man through the last couple of years. I´ve watched families gathered at the table, playing board games and having fun. But do you know what?” He waited for the answer, though he wasn´t expecting to actually get one. “What makes me so desperately grumpy is that it´s all so close to me, yet so far away… My home, the traditions, it´s gone, swept under the rug! How I miss cakes we used to bake in the village of domovoys, how I longe for Evelin´s bright smile!” He swung a decorative globe sprinkled with tinsel which hang on the tree next to his ear. “How I miss being invited to sit under the Yule tree with the family! And having portions of delicacies reserved just for me. When the legend of Santa Claus, or Father Christmas, or old god Odin4 came to be, us domovoys were the ones who first put presents under the tree. But now we´re forgotten…”
Saddened by his story, fire-creatures move closer to him. Their burning heads warm up his feet, so he thanks them. The fire starts burning strangely and the little creatures are alarmed. They must go home! Reluctantly, they say goodbye to the good old domovoy and jump into the fireplace. Domovoy blinks and yawns, then hears a sound of a car from the outside. “It´s already morning!”, he is surprised. The humans had come home! He must hide. Quickly leaving the pan he used to roasting the chestnuts and the tea cup in the washing machine (just one of the many peculiar machines he had to accept to adapt to the new domovoy-lacking era), he hurries under the bed. He has his own place to sleep under there, made of lost blankets and quilts out-of-use. He huddles under the layers of warm covers and listens to soft steps on the stairs and near the tree. They´re opening presents, thanking each other, laughing… Oh, how he misses all of it!
Then someone enters the room. He holds his breath as feet in high heels slowly approach the bed.
“Aha!”
Woman´s eyes look right at him. Domovoy is scared. Should he escape, run away? He´s never seen this woman from so close. This family has been living with him for less than a year. What´s her name? Dorina, was it?
“I knew it”, she says victoriously, “I knew it all along! No, don´t be scared! Here.” In her spread hand there´s something smelling sweet and delicious. A gingerbread! Domovoy carefully takes it and puts it in his mouth. Home-made! Delicious! “From my grandma. I asked her, you know… She used to tell me stories about little man taking care of the house and its inmates. I asked her whether any of her stories were true.” She smiles. “Now I know for sure. I´m so glad! But don´t hide under there! Come out when you feel like it, alright? We´ll hang out in the dining room, so you can be near the fire in the living room… I´ll leave you some more presents…”
With those words still flowing in the air, Dorina leaves the room. Careful, not sure whether what he just saw was real or a product of his imagination, domovoy comes out. When he exists the bedroom and finds himself on the top of the stairs, he hears children´s laughter. “Mum, when will the little man come down? Where´s domovoy?”, a girl excitedly asks.
And domovoy smiles, a tear almost falls down his cheek. Times change. But home becomes…
Becomes home all over again.
THE END
1Svarog – slavic god of fire and blacksmithing
3Baklava - a layered pastry dessert made of filo pastry, filled with chopped nuts, and sweetened with syrup or honey
4Odin – „The Father of all Gods” in nordic mythology; celebrated during Yule, a pagan holiday that took place midwinter. During this time, Odin was said to lead the Wild Hunt, a ghostly procession through the sky, and elves made gifts for children in his workshop
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