The wizard, Behek, began teaching Alan the arts of horse riding, sword fighting, wrestling, and reading. Under his guidance, the young prince was becoming a skilled warrior. But despite his progress, Alan was still far from ready to confront the ogre and his army. Behek, wise as always, decided it was time to test Alan's worthiness and honesty.
One night, Behek called Alan to him and asked, "Are you willing to undertake a task on behalf of your teacher?"
Alan, ever respectful of his teacher, eagerly agreed. Behek said, "My dear prince, your task is to go to Sevalakhi. Along the way, you must keep your identity a secret. Dress as an ordinary soldier, and never disclose your true origin or seek any favor because of it. Stay humble and let the journey guide you."
Alan took his teacher's blessing and set off. But first, Behek had one final instruction: Alan needed a horse. His first task was to steal Baba Yaga's prized steed, a creature said to be fierce and fast, one that required a price in exchange for taming. Baba Yaga, a witch known for her dark magic, kept the steed alive not through food, but through blood magic.
Alan embarked on his journey, walking for several days until he reached a small village. Behek had instructed him to find Alvanley, a man who had once survived an encounter with Baba Yaga and knew the way to her lair. However, Alvanley was a drunken farmer, reluctant to speak of the witch or her home. Undeterred, Alan offered Alvanley a few coins, which had been given to him by Behek. The farmer, pleased with the payment, agreed to help.
But Alvanley had one condition: he wouldn't physically lead Alan to Baba Yaga's lair. Instead, he would tell the story of how he had found it. Alvanley recounted his experience:
"I was working in the forest with my father when I saw a white hare. I rushed after it, but soon lost my way. I was running in circles, trying to find my path when I saw smoke rising from a small hut. I thought I could ask for help, so I approached. By the time I reached the door, the witch knew I was there. When I knocked, she answered."
"Are you lost, my dear?" Baba Yaga asked kindly.
"Yes," Alvanley replied. "Can you tell me where the road is?"
"Oh, my dear," the witch said, "I can, but night is coming. Come inside and stay for the night. You can leave in the morning."
Being naive, Alvanley agreed, and the witch gave him ham and juice to eat, telling him to wait while she prepared some cookies. But in the hut, there was an old dog, and Alvanley, moved by pity, gave the dog his ham. The dog, after eating, spoke to him.
"Thank you for feeding me, but you made a grave mistake by coming here. The lady you saw was Baba Yaga, and she plans to eat you."
Terrified, Alvanley fell to the ground. "What? You can speak? I'm going to die!"
"No, my dear," the dog said kindly. "I will help you. When you run, you must go through the thorns, for Baba Yaga cannot follow you there. At the end, you will find a road. Run as fast as you can, and I will hold her off."
Just as the witch returned, she asked Alvanley if he needed anything, to which he replied, "No."
When Baba Yaga moved away from the window, Alvanley took his chance, running through the thorny bushes as fast as he could. The witch, hearing the noise, rushed to the door but found him gone. Furious, she beat the dog for failing to stop Alvanley.
Meanwhile, Alvanley followed a road that led to a shallow canal. On the other side was the road home. After finishing his tale, Alvanley pointed Alan in the right direction, though he warned him that the path would be difficult.
Alan, now with a clear sense of the journey ahead, ventured into the forest. Along the way, he hunted a deer and took some pieces of meat. He also found an old beehive where the bees were struggling to find flowers. Alan, ever resourceful, plucked some flowers and gave it to the hive.
As he continued on the path, he passed through the thorny forest and eventually reached the hut. Disguised as a common traveler, Alan approached cautiously, aware that Baba Yaga would likely sense his presence.
Sure enough, the witch greeted him before he even knocked.
"Who are you?" Baba Yaga asked, her voice sharp.
"I am lost in the forest," Alan replied." Can you point me to the open ground"
"Oh, my dear boy, I will, but it's already dark, come inside for the night," the witch offered, her voice ever so warm and gentle. "You will be safe here."
Alan entered, but he had already planned his escape. He gave the pieces of meat he had brought with him to the dog guarding the door, knowing that the dog would remember his kindness. The dog, grateful for the food, spoke.
"My master, the witch will kill you if you stay here much longer. Why have you come?"
Alan replied quietly, "I seek a magical steed."
The dog was surprised but agreed to help. "The steed is behind the hut. If you wish to take it, you must cover its eyes. Once you leave the forest, it will calm down. If you don't, it will never obey you. Take this cloth—it will help."
Alan took the cloth from the dog and rushed to the steed, which immediately began to neigh loudly. He quickly covered its eyes, and though the steed struggled, he managed to climb on. The sound of the steed's cries alerted Baba Yaga, who rushed to stop him.
Alan spurred the steed into action, galloping through the forest. The steed was no ordinary creature—it ran so fast that Alan felt the wind whip past him. But Baba Yaga was not easily deterred. She summoned a forest troll to chase him down.
The troll, massive and strong, lumbered after them. But the bees, remembering Alan's kindness, swarmed the troll, stinging it repeatedly and slowing it down. The troll was slow and bulky, while Alan and the steed were light and quick, allowing them to narrowly escape.
Once they were far enough from the witch's lair, Alan removed the cloth from the steed's eyes. The magic that had bound the creature was gone, and it was now free.
Alan rode the steed through the dense jungle, deciding to stop for the night in a village he had passed earlier. However, when he arrived, he was greeted by an eerie silence. The villagers were quiet, as though in mourning, and they refused to speak to him. Curious, Alan managed to find one villager who was willing to talk.
"What has happened?" Alan asked.