Ancient Legends. Tatiana Edel

creature ran in frantic circles, squealing in confusion.

      Gridya burst into laughter, chasing the piglet around the hall, teasing it.

      “Shall I show you more wonders?” Karidur asked. “Or do you believe I can do anything?”

      “Then make a table appear, filled with every sweet in the world!” Gridya demanded.

      The sorcerer smirked, whispered a spell, and – bam! – before them stood a massive table, stacked high with treats. Everything was there except living water.

      Gridya grabbed the candies, devoured the honey by the spoonful, and stuffed his mouth with nuts and pastries. He could not stop – his belly was fit to burst.

      Karidur chuckled. Good, he thought, the boy is greedy – he will make a fine villain.

      At last, Gridya grew drowsy and asked to sleep. That was exactly what Karidur wanted. Let him sleep while I fly off to find another, he thought.

      So, the sorcerer mounted his flying carpet once more. This time, he flew by night, knowing the guards would now watch the skies closely, ready to shoot down any intruder with a well-aimed arrow before he could cast a spell.

      Karidur darkened the night, summoning thick gray clouds to cover the sky. “You will not see my carpet, no matter how hard you look,” he sneered. The watchmen failed to notice him. And so, Karidur stole another boy, this time disguised as an old woman.

      This continued for five nights. The elders of the city gathered beneath the ancient oak tree. By old tradition, people had always held festivals and important councils around this very tree. They thought all day and into the evening before making a decision. They would go to Mikula Selyaninovich, the mighty hero, and beg for his help to find the villain and destroy him.

      Mikula Selyaninovich was a giant of a man, plowing the hills and fields, sowing wheat, unaware of the terrible events unfolding. He was tall as a tower, broad-shouldered, his eyes sharper than a falcon’s, his hair curling in golden waves, his brows as dark as the night. And his strength? He handled his great plow with ease, as if it were a child’s toy.

      The elders came to him, told him of their sorrow. The children must be saved, and the sorcerer’s fortress destroyed – who knew what greater evil he might unleash? Mikula Selyaninovich was not a man of many words. He furrowed his brow, sighed, bowed to the elders, and began preparing for battle. Though he did not know where to go, he trusted his steed to find the way. And so, it did.

      Meanwhile, Karidur was busy. He trained the boys in sorcery and cruelty, molding them into his wicked apprentices. But one boy resisted – a thin, red-haired, quiet lad named Afanasiy. Karidur had seen him earlier, bullied by other children. He had assumed that Afanasiy, out of bitterness and a thirst for revenge, would be easy to turn. He was wrong. At first, Afanasiy refused to take part. Then he pretended to learn, outshining even the others in skill.

      At night, while the boys lay down to sleep, he whispered old tales to his two closest friends – stories his grandmother had told him, where good always triumphed. He was building a secret alliance, planning their escape.

      Karidur drugged the children with his “sleep-root tea,” making them forget their homes and love eternal darkness.

      Afanasiy and his friends poured their tea away and warned the others, but Gridya refused to listen.

      For three days and nights, the mighty warrior Mikula Selyaninovich rode tirelessly over mountains and hills without rest. Only by the evening of the third day did his faithful steed carry him to the sorcerer’s castle. He decided to wait for nightfall and assess the situation. He circled the castle from all sides – there was no way in. But hiding was no task for a warrior. At dawn, he mounted his loyal steed, donned his sturdy chainmail, took his steel sword in hand, and called out, challenging the sorcerer to an honest fight

      Why would Karidur need an honest fight? He wasn’t used to putting his life in danger for nothing. Let me just turn him into a chick and eat him myself, he thought. He began to cast spells, hissing and chanting – but nothing happened. His magic had no effect on the Russian warrior.

      Again, Mikula Selyaninovich called out, again he challenged him to battle. The sorcerer grew furious. What is this? Some peasant dares to yell at me? Just wait until I step outside – he’ll die of fright at the mere sight of me. I’ll give myself ten hands, each one holding a sword. And as for those boys, I won’t give them up! I’ll lock them in the deepest dungeon, where no one will hear them, no one will find them.

      So, he did as he said. But when the warrior called for the sorcerer a third time, Karidur finally stepped into the bright light, ten swords in ten hands. Yet our warrior did not flinch. His mighty steed galloped straight at the wicked man. Mikula Selyaninovich swung his steel sword – four of the sorcerer’s hands vanished in an instant.

      Karidur raged and transformed into a flying serpent, breathing fire, ready to burn the warrior to ash. They fought long and fiercely, battling not for life, but for death. The hero’s steed began to stumble, and the sorcerer’s voice grew hoarse, barely a whisper. Then Mikula Selyaninovich gathered all his strength, found an opening, and struck – cutting off the villain’s head. He sat down on his native land to catch his breath, his steed standing beside him, snorting from exhaustion.

      Once they had rested, they set out to find the children. But they were nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard. They searched every corner of the palace – no trace of them, not even a footprint. The warrior called them by name, but no one answered.

      “Well then, we’ll have to take this palace apart – they must be here somewhere,” said Mikula Selyaninovich. He pressed his hands against the high walls and threw them far aside, one after another. In less than an hour, they stood in an open field, all that remained of the palace now nothing but ruins. The warrior grew sorrowful, but his steed wouldn’t move, standing still as if sensing something.

      Mikula Selyaninovich understood – he needed to search right there. He crafted a sturdy shovel and began digging, strip by strip, beneath the castle ruins. Soon, a hatch appeared, with a metal ring on the lid. He pressed his ear against it – was there another evil lurking below? But inside, there was only banging and shouting. The boys were trying to escape into the light of day! Mikula Selyaninovich beamed with joy. He opened the hatch and pulled them all out. Oh, what happiness it was!

      And so they set off for home, bringing good news – no more evil sorcerer, and all the children were safe and sound, returned to their joyful parents. People later told stories that Athanasius grew up and became the one who invented the flying carpet. There would have been no happiness, if not for misfortune!

      The Guardians of the Desert

      In an Altai village, there once lived a greedy man. Whatever he saw, he dragged home. His house was already overflowing with things, yet still, he hoarded more. His wife scolded him, but he paid no heed.

      One day, he brought home a stone woman – a great, ancient statue. He hitched up his horse, tied the statue with ropes, and dragged it all the way to his yard. He stood before it, pleased with himself. The stone woman gazed at him with silent reproach, as if saying, why have you moved me? I belong in the open fields, under the free wind.

      But the foolish man had another idea. He began sharpening his knives against the statue, boasting to all: “Now I have a stone woman at home, holding a chalice and a sword. No one will dare touch me! She will guard my wealth and bring me even more riches!”

      Yet soon, he noticed something strange. Each night, the statue seemed to move – just a little. Three days ago, she had been in the farthest corner of the yard. Today – look! – she was already near the gate. At first, he could not believe his eyes, but it was true. She was leaving. Then, one morning, she was gone entirely.

      The man flew into a rage! “I’ll harness my strongest horse, drag her back, and chain her down so she never runs away