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The Cruelest Command

The next morning, the stepmother woke Nastya before sunrise. «Get up, lazy bones!» she shouted, tearing the blanket off Nastya. «Go to the forest and collect pinecones! Fill this basket – don’t come back until it’s full!» She threw a cracked wooden basket at Nastya’s feet.

Nastya’s heart sank. The forest was dark and filled with wolves. But she knew arguing was useless. She wrapped herself in her thin shawl, slipped on her worn boots, and stepped into the icy wind.

One winter morning, Ivan was chopping wood. The air was icy, and his breath looked like little clouds. Suddenly, he heard a noise – snap! – like a branch breaking.

«Is that a wolf?» Ivan thought. He grabbed his axe and followed the sound.

Behind a tall pine tree, Ivan saw a girl in a thin blue coat. She was shivering, trying to pick up pinecones with red, frozen fingers. Her basket was almost empty.

«Hello?» Ivan said kindly. The girl jumped. She had big, scared eyes, like a rabbit.

«D-don’t hurt me,» she whispered.

«Hurt you?» Ivan laughed. «I’m Ivan! I only hurt trees!» He pointed to his axe. «What’s your name?»

«Nastya,» she said softly.

Ivan noticed Nastya’s old boots and torn mittens. «You’re freezing! Here – take my gloves.» He pulled off his thick wool gloves and handed them to her.

«But… you need them,» Nastya said.

«My hands are tough like tree bark!» Ivan grinned. «See?» He knocked on his palm like it was wood. Nastya giggled – a tiny, nervous sound.

Ivan’s squirrel, Nutty, popped out of his pocket. «This is Nutty. He loves pinecones!» Ivan said.

«Hello, Nutty,» Nastya whispered. The squirrel sniffed her hand, then suddenly darted up a tree. Crash! A bunch of pinecones fell into Nastya’s basket.

«Nutty, you’re a hero!» Ivan laughed. Nastya’s smile grew bigger.

As they walked, Nastya told Ivan about her cruel stepmother. «She sent me to collect pinecones… and I can’t go home until the basket is full.»

Ivan frowned. «That’s not fair! Parents should be like… warm soup!» He made a silly face, and Nastya laughed again.

When the basket was full, Ivan walked Nastya to the edge of the forest. «Come visit Pinegrove! My mom’s bread will make you strong… or maybe fat!» He patted his stomach.

Nastya smiled. «Thank you, Ivan. You’re… very kind.»

«Kind? No, I’m just scared of squirrels!» He pointed at Nutty, who was chasing his own tail.

As Nastya left, Ivan tripped over a root and fell into the snow. «The snow wanted a hug!» he shouted. Nastya’s laughter echoed through the trees.

Snow crunched under Nastya’s boots as she walked backed home. The trees loomed like giants, their branches clawing at the sky. Every noise – a twig snapping, an owl hooting – made her jump. «Don’t be afraid,» she whispered to herself. «Just keep going.»

Suddenly, the wind howled louder. A tall figure appeared between the trees. His coat glittered with frost, and his eyes shone like icy stars. It was Morozko, the Winter Spirit.

«Why are you alone in the forest, child?» he boomed, his voice echoing like cracking ice.

Nastya trembled but curtsied politely. «My stepmother sent me to gather pinecones, sir. I found them all and going back home»

Morozko’s beard twitched. «Are you cold, little one?»

«Y-yes,» she stammered. «But I don’t mind. The snow is… very pretty.»

Morozko raised his hand. The wind roared, and the temperature dropped. Nastya’s shawl stiffened with frost, and her breath turned to ice crystals. «Are you still cold?» he asked sharply.

Nastya’s teeth chattered, but she smiled. «It’s not so bad, sir. The forest is quiet, and the stars are bright tonight.»

Morozko narrowed his eyes. «You’re hungry too, aren’t you?»

Nastya glanced at him, «I am, sir. But maybe the animals need food more than me.» She pulled a dried berry from her pocket – her last bite – and placed it on a stone for the birds.

Morozko’s face softened. «You’re kind, child, even in hardship. For that, you deserve warmth.» He stamped his staff. Crack! A fire burst to life in a nearby hollow tree.