The Witch Baba Yaga

An illustrated tales story from Wonder Tales — free to read, with narration.

The Witch Baba Yaga — an illustrated tales story. 10 illustrated pages, free to read on Wonder Tales.

The Witch Baba Yaga — book cover — Wonder Tales
The Witch Baba Yaga — an illustrated tales story. 10 illustrated pages, free to read on Wonder Tales.

Page 1

In a painted desert where colors shifted with the whims of the wind, lived a young woman named Anya, burdened by a task she could not refuse.
In a painted desert where colors shifted with the whims of the wind, lived a young woman named Anya, burdened by a task she could not refuse. Old Man Gregor, the village elder, whispered of Baba Yaga, a witch dwelling in the deepest part of the shifting lands, a woman of twisted magic and darker secrets. Anya's brother, Dmitri, had been lured into the forest by promises of gold, and only Baba Yaga could release him from whatever spell held him captive.

In a painted desert where colors shifted with the whims of the wind, lived a young woman named Anya, burdened by a task she could not refuse. Old Man Gregor, the village elder, whispered of Baba Yaga, a witch dwelling in the deepest part of the shifting lands, a woman of twisted magic and darker secrets. Anya's brother, Dmitri, had been lured into the forest by promises of gold, and only Baba Yaga could release him from whatever spell held him captive. The forest itself whispered warnings, the trees gnarled like grasping claws, but Anya knew she had to venture into the unknown.

Page 2

"Take this," Old Man Gregor rasped, pressing a tarnished silver mirror into Anya's hand. "It belonged to your grandmother.
"Take this," Old Man Gregor rasped, pressing a tarnished silver mirror into Anya's hand. "It belonged to your grandmother. She warned me, 'A mirror shows more than a reflection; it shows the heart.' Remember her words, child. It may protect you, or guide you, but only if you are honest with yourself." Anya clutched the mirror, its cool surface a strange comfort. She stepped into the forest, the painted desert shrinking behind her.

"Take this," Old Man Gregor rasped, pressing a tarnished silver mirror into Anya's hand. "It belonged to your grandmother. She warned me, 'A mirror shows more than a reflection; it shows the heart.' Remember her words, child. It may protect you, or guide you, but only if you are honest with yourself." Anya clutched the mirror, its cool surface a strange comfort. She stepped into the forest, the painted desert shrinking behind her.

Page 3

"I've heard the forest tests you with illusions," a raspy voice hissed from the branches above. A raven, its feathers as black as night, perched overhead.
"I've heard the forest tests you with illusions," a raspy voice hissed from the branches above. A raven, its feathers as black as night, perched overhead. "If you give in to temptation, the forest keeps you." Anya shuddered, remembering a story her grandmother used to tell. "'Know thyself,' as Socrates said," she muttered, clutching the mirror. "For only then can you truly understand the world around you."

"I've heard the forest tests you with illusions," a raspy voice hissed from the branches above. A raven, its feathers as black as night, perched overhead. "If you give in to temptation, the forest keeps you." Anya shuddered, remembering a story her grandmother used to tell. "'Know thyself,' as Socrates said," she muttered, clutching the mirror. "For only then can you truly understand the world around you."

Page 4

Anya pressed onward, soon discovering a path paved with shimmering gold coins. "Dmitri would have loved this," she thought, remembering her brother's insatiable…
Anya pressed onward, soon discovering a path paved with shimmering gold coins. "Dmitri would have loved this," she thought, remembering her brother's insatiable desire for wealth. The coins seemed to sing a siren's song, promising riches beyond measure. Could she just take a few to help her family after she rescued Dmitri? "No!" she shouted, surprising herself. She recalled her grandmother's words: The glitter blinds, but true value shines from within.

Anya pressed onward, soon discovering a path paved with shimmering gold coins. "Dmitri would have loved this," she thought, remembering her brother's insatiable desire for wealth. The coins seemed to sing a siren's song, promising riches beyond measure. Could she just take a few to help her family after she rescued Dmitri? "No!" she shouted, surprising herself. She recalled her grandmother's words: The glitter blinds, but true value shines from within.

Page 5

As Anya resisted the golden path, the coins vanished, replaced by a wide, still pool of water. Her reflection shimmered back at her, not as she was, but adorned…
As Anya resisted the golden path, the coins vanished, replaced by a wide, still pool of water. Her reflection shimmered back at her, not as she was, but adorned in fine silks and jewels, a queen ruling a vast kingdom. "Such power could be yours, Anya," the reflection whispered, its voice like honeyed wine. "Forget your brother, embrace your destiny!" Anya held up the mirror. "My destiny is to protect those I love," she said, her voice trembling but firm.

As Anya resisted the golden path, the coins vanished, replaced by a wide, still pool of water. Her reflection shimmered back at her, not as she was, but adorned in fine silks and jewels, a queen ruling a vast kingdom. "Such power could be yours, Anya," the reflection whispered, its voice like honeyed wine. "Forget your brother, embrace your destiny!" Anya held up the mirror. "My destiny is to protect those I love," she said, her voice trembling but firm.

Page 6

The reflection snarled and the pool dissolved, leaving Anya standing before a towering gate made of bones. A withered hand reached through, clutching a handful…
The reflection snarled and the pool dissolved, leaving Anya standing before a towering gate made of bones. A withered hand reached through, clutching a handful of gold dust. "Just a little taste," a voice croaked. "For a glimpse of your brother... to know he still lives..." Anya hesitated. She remembered Dmitri's weakness for gold. 'The love of money,' as the Apostle Paul wrote, 'is the root of all kinds of evil.'"

The reflection snarled and the pool dissolved, leaving Anya standing before a towering gate made of bones. A withered hand reached through, clutching a handful of gold dust. "Just a little taste," a voice croaked. "For a glimpse of your brother... to know he still lives..." Anya hesitated. She remembered Dmitri's weakness for gold. 'The love of money,' as the Apostle Paul wrote, 'is the root of all kinds of evil.'"

Page 7

Anya closed her eyes and held up the silver mirror. This is not a trap, it's a test of virtue to show I'm worthy. She stared into its depths, not at her own…
Anya closed her eyes and held up the silver mirror. This is not a trap, it's a test of virtue to show I'm worthy. She stared into its depths, not at her own face, but at the swirling colors within. A vision of Dmitri, chained in a dark hut, flashed before her eyes. He was alive, but his spirit was fading. It was time. "I refuse!" she cried, her voice echoing through the silent forest.

Anya closed her eyes and held up the silver mirror. This is not a trap, it's a test of virtue to show I'm worthy. She stared into its depths, not at her own face, but at the swirling colors within. A vision of Dmitri, chained in a dark hut, flashed before her eyes. He was alive, but his spirit was fading. It was time. "I refuse!" she cried, her voice echoing through the silent forest.

Page 8

The bone gate shattered, revealing a path leading to a small hut perched precariously on giant chicken legs. The hut spun wildly, its windows like malevolent…
The bone gate shattered, revealing a path leading to a small hut perched precariously on giant chicken legs. The hut spun wildly, its windows like malevolent eyes. Baba Yaga herself emerged, a figure of grotesque beauty, her long, tangled hair woven with bones and feathers. "So, the little bird comes to the cage," she cackled. "What do you offer for your brother's release?"

The bone gate shattered, revealing a path leading to a small hut perched precariously on giant chicken legs. The hut spun wildly, its windows like malevolent eyes. Baba Yaga herself emerged, a figure of grotesque beauty, her long, tangled hair woven with bones and feathers. "So, the little bird comes to the cage," she cackled. "What do you offer for your brother's release?"

Page 9

"I offer nothing but myself," Anya declared, stepping forward. "Release my brother, and I will serve you for seven years." Baba Yaga's eyes narrowed. "Serve me?
"I offer nothing but myself," Anya declared, stepping forward. "Release my brother, and I will serve you for seven years." Baba Yaga's eyes narrowed. "Serve me? Such naiveté. Very well." She snapped her fingers, and Dmitri appeared, gaunt and pale, but free. Anya rushed to him, embracing him tightly. In that moment, she knew she had made the right choice, no matter the cost.

"I offer nothing but myself," Anya declared, stepping forward. "Release my brother, and I will serve you for seven years." Baba Yaga's eyes narrowed. "Serve me? Such naiveté. Very well." She snapped her fingers, and Dmitri appeared, gaunt and pale, but free. Anya rushed to him, embracing him tightly. In that moment, she knew she had made the right choice, no matter the cost.

Page 10

Anya served Baba Yaga with unwavering honesty. She learned much of magic and the hidden truths of the painted desert. When her seven years were done, Baba Yaga…
Anya served Baba Yaga with unwavering honesty. She learned much of magic and the hidden truths of the painted desert. When her seven years were done, Baba Yaga released her and Dmitri, richer not in gold, but in wisdom. As they walked back towards their village, Anya looked at her brother. The gold he chased was the very thing that almost left him with nothing.

Anya served Baba Yaga with unwavering honesty. She learned much of magic and the hidden truths of the painted desert. When her seven years were done, Baba Yaga released her and Dmitri, richer not in gold, but in wisdom. As they walked back towards their village, Anya looked at her brother. The gold he chased was the very thing that almost left him with nothing.

About this story

  • Audience: kids (ages 6–12)

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