MAVKA

Mavka, also known as navka and nyavka, are forest spirits in Ukrainian mythology. They are similar to rusalki, and are often depicted as beautiful, naked young women or girls wearing long white shirts with long flowing hair. According to folk beliefs, mavky are the souls of drowned girls and girls who died unbaptized.
Beliefs about mavka are common in the Carpathians, Podolia, and Galicia. The typical image of a mavka is a girl with green hair. However, there is a fundamental difference between a mavka and a nyavka. A nyavka has no back. Therefore, folk tales often add that a nyavka has no back, so that her insides are visible from behind. Mavki are usually found in forests. They are said to be the souls of children who died unbaptized, or, less often, of children who were stolen by the devil. This happens to those who died after seven months of age, while those who died earlier become poterchaty. Like rusalki, mavky can have male counterparts, known as nyavkuny.
It was a common belief that mavky dance on so-called igrovischa, places where grass does not grow. Sometimes they were credited with planting flowers in the mountains. It was believed that mavky could lure young men into the bushes to tickle them to death. They also came to people at night, especially women and children, to suck out their strength through their breasts.

Illustration

Alina Kondrashova

Illustration

Carlyn Krall

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Julia Orzhekhovska

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Anya Kasianova

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Liliia Solomicheva

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Polina Vilchuk

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Sophie Scanlon

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Eric Yagoda

Illustration

Albina Pozdniakova

The Tale of the Mavka

by Nina Berner

THE WOODLANDS TO THE SOUTH WEST, where the mavka lived, knew no boundaries. They stretched from Romania through Ukraine and even into Hungary. The trees were dense, and narrow winding pathways coiled through them, leading wanderers astray, leading them deep into the woods, along a small stream that was covered with branches at times, and often became a treacherous place. Sometimes souls drowned in there, hopelessly searching for light in the dense woods.
The only light was a mossy green shimmer that fell through the trunks, it smelled like moss and bark, and thousands of small critters moved through the brushes. 
The wood along the stream was the home of a mavka, she was a spirit of the woodlands. Once she had been a child losing her way in the forest, with her grandmother she had collected small sticks at the edge of the wood.
“Do not go into the woods,” her grandmother cautioned, but the greenish light was magical and then a voice singing a gentle melody drew her closer, and before her grandmother noticed she was inside the impenetrable wood and did not find a way out again. 
“What will happen to me”, she cried out to the trees.
“You will be a spirit of the woods, your grandmother has abandoned you, but we will take care of you,” the trees whispered.
The mavka slept on a bed of moss, protected by the night owl. In the morning the squirrel brought her nuts and berries, and the guardian of the woods sat next to her.
“I offer you this,” he said, “we will protect you, and you will protect the woods together with us, but you can never leave the forest for the remainder of time.”
He placed his hand on her forehead, the seat of her soul, and laid her back into the moss, for her to wake up a creature of the forest. The mavka’s hair grew long and wavy, the color green as the moss she had slept on, her eyes as blue green as the stream that she strolled along, glowing bright in the darkness, guiding the way or leading creatures astray. There was barely any distinction between day and night, there was always a murky darkness in the woods. Sometimes, when she got close to the edge of the woods, she called out to the world beyond, called names out into the world of humans in the language of her forefathers, her voice was bright and clear like a child’s, but her body was alluring as if she had been a full grown woman, the outlines of her figure were visible through the layers of her white-greenish dress.
Once being close to the border and for the first time in an endless amount of years, she saw the houses of the village she had left behind many decades ago. There was no time, and the mavka had no age, but a strange longing came over her, and as if by unknown and long hidden instincts she called out for someone she had once known.“Andreji,” her clear voice sung, unsure to whom she was calling, but the name rolled of her lips as if he was familiar. Perhaps one day he had been, long ago, perhaps he had been a dream, from a life she never had. But she hid and retreated back into the woods, sometimes she lured men to her, lured them into the woods with her crystal voice, only to hide between the trees, making herself invisible among the bushes and the underwood. Some of them never returned to their world. “I love the trees more than anything,” she whispered. “And the bushes, the glittering green stream, and the moss, especially the moss.”Yet, the name she had called kept stuck in her mind, and every once in a while she went to the borders of the wood, hid her body behind a tree and sang out the name, called it out sweetly, in the same melody as the rushing of the stream and the rustling of woods.“Andreij,” she sang.
But then, once, a hand of flesh and blood reached out to her. “You are calling me? I can hear you, and when I search for you, you are gone,” a young man said, trying to hold on to her, grasping her arm, which was as white as it was cold. He had kind eyes, and hair that moved with the wind, and she was tempted for the company.“Stay here for a while,” she whispered in his ears, and danced through the woods with him.“You are the most beautiful creature I ever saw,” he marveled. 
And he followed her deeper and deeper into the woods, until he reached the stream, he got close to her moss, and she felt dread washing over her. The mavka started telling him to leave her, to not cross the stream, he might summon a water spirit if he would cross the threshold.“You are as beautiful as the stream,” the young man said.She heard the uneasiness in the trees, the leaves above their heads rustling in discontent. The mavka knew their language, he was not safe, and she did not want him there.“You cannot stay here in the woods, it is not safe,” she said.
“But I am here with you, nothing can happen to me,” he insisted.She cried and screamed, but he would not listen. “You will die if you stay,” she called out to him, but he thought he was in love with a creature that would never be his. The mavka belonged to the woods, she kept hiding from him, running between the trees, disguised in the bushes and between stones covered with moss. Everything in the woods protected her, just as she had promised to protect the wood.
“You will die if you do not leave,” she whispered sadly.But he would not listen, and trying to catch her dress, he fell into the stream and drowned, for one moment still he saw her piercing bright eyes, and then he saw nothing anymore.
The mavka though went back to the serenity of the moss, hiding behind trees, doing what she had promised, to love and protect the woods that she inhabited.****

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