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Deification of the Krash

Her name is Kalinkara, her brother is Koschei the Deathless himself. Dark magic is their power. They sit on their thrones, surrounded by fragments of their spells. Smoke smokes from the chimneys of their castle, the animals around are unusual, sick and evil. The darkness spares no one. Not a hare, not a duck.

Kalinkara & Koschei

- Do you think anything is changing, soldier? For the current regime, for the former one, and even for the next one, we are a weapon! And this has not changed for centuries, believe me, old one. Working conditions, the attitude of the authorities change. But the essence of our work... No. It's the same thing. There will always be enemies for us on the other side. - But... but... how? His dull gaze meant only one thing, he was losing faith... His personality was collapsing here and now, the illusions that replaced his Will were crumbling to dust...

Witch-Bitch

In any regime, at any time, someone has to maintain traditions and work on reputation. We have always worked with the government, in varying degrees of secrecy. They have always stood behind our fragile backs. Sometimes behind visors, sometimes behind smart glasses. We have gotten used to it. And they. What will it cost them? And us?

Legally witch

Just add the water Just add the vodka Just add the widow

Just add the widow

- Following Vasya, my granddaughter and I went too. Well, there was nothing for us to do in our homeland. And the Foreign land called for at least some kind of income. Let the lower levels, but there are. It's all strange, dear diary. Strange. - Yes, Grandfather. I've seen a lot too, this is the first time.

Symbols of a forgotten ritual

Once I dreamed about him. Many years ago. I still remember him. Thanks to neural networks, now I can convey his image.

Mr. Deer from a Dream

King of kings, protege of God and gods, master of the inner flame, renewed, strengthened. His invitation had a bold "+1" written on it.

Gorynych +1

Standing on two strangers in the middle of a suburban village named after herself. Peering out at animals in the darkness, greeting a bear with a nod, greeting a raven. Behind her is the world of the dead, before her is the world of the living. Everyone has their own saints…

Holy Yaga