It is believed that planting a spruce is a bad omen. You can hear about this from residents of villages and private sectors who believe that there is no place for a Christmas tree in the yard or near the house. Whether this is so and what this sign is connected with, we will tell below.
Our ancestors collected signs, noting events happening around them that led to one or another result. Most of these beliefs have reached us in their original form and still work today. Signs exist regarding almost everything that surrounds us: about animals, about plants, about the weather, about the house, about love, money, health, etc.
And if the logic of some of them is obvious - if you spilled salt, it means you will cry soon, then some of the signs are frankly surprising.
The bad omen about the Christmas tree on the property was no exception. It is worth noting that it is common in those regions where spruce is a rare guest. In areas with spruce forests there is no such belief.
Almost everyone knows that planting a spruce is a bad omen for death, loneliness, childlessness or the birth of only daughters. If this tree, planted near the house, dies, gets sick, or is struck by lightning, you can soon expect the death of one of the owners of the house. During a thunderstorm, in the old days they never sought shelter under a spruce tree; they chose a birch tree, however, there were also many bad omens about it.
Similar superstitions were found not only among the Slavs, but also in Europe. Thus, one of the most famous examples of folklore associated with spruce is the legend of a tree planted by the first colonists near Lake Keitele in Finland. This spruce was considered a symbol of good luck; the first fruits of the harvest were brought to it, and only after that they were served on the table.
According to legend, every time one branch withered on a tree, one of the first colonists died. And then the tree fell, and after that the last surviving old woman, who was one of the first to come to explore new territories, died. After the fall of the spruce tree, only the descendants of the colonists remained alive. The latter went into the world of the dead along with the tree, which symbolized their luck, harvest and vitality.
A bad omen - a Christmas tree on the site
So, why is spruce on the site a bad omen? In villages there is a belief that spruce cannot be planted in the yard, next to the house. It is believed that as soon as the spruce grows higher than the roof, a death will occur in the family. According to another variation, when the spruce grew taller than the person who planted it, he died.
Read more in the article about trees that can be planted near your home
There is another interpretation of the relatively bad omen of a Christmas tree on the site. There is a belief that a spruce planted near a house will prevent the owners of the plot from getting married successfully, and married couples will get divorced. According to this superstition, spruce is considered the tree of loneliness.
Another variation of this interpretation suggests that the spruce drives men out of the house.
And they were not advised to plant Christmas trees near the house of a young family, as this could deprive them of their heirs.
Another meaning suggests that spruce brings the dead, since previously the bodies of the dead were covered with spruce branches.
In addition, there is a belief that spruce is a kind of energetic vampire.
However, esotericists say that this tree is in summer time actively absorbs energy, and in winter, on the contrary, shares it. Therefore, it is recommended to take walks in the spruce forest more often for people who cannot tolerate winter time of the year.
The following proverb can also be called a reflection of the sign:
In a pine forest - to pray, in a birch forest - to have fun, and in a spruce forest - to hang yourself.
A Christmas tree in the yard is a bad omen: scientists explain
When asked why it is not a good omen to plant Christmas trees on the property, historians give other reasons. The fact is that houses in Rus' were built of wood, and a spruce planted next to the house could quickly catch fire from the slightest spark. In this case, the fire quickly spread to the house. The Christmas tree could have caused a fire in the entire village.
In addition, do not forget that a single tree often attracts lightning, which can also cause a fire.
And the third reason for the dislike of spruce trees in Rus' was that this evergreen plant has a very dense crown. Consequently, when the spruce outgrew the low peasant house with a chimney, strong wind you could get burned in the hut.
From this point of view, the sign is quite logical. However, now houses, firstly, are not built from wood, and secondly, most private ones are built on two or three floors. Therefore, the sign cannot be called “working”.
Here's what cultural experts write:
For the Finno-Ugric peoples language group a tree is an intermediary between the world of people and world of the dead, the lower world ancestors The Karelians had a custom of confessing to a tree. Among the Verkhnevychegda Komi, they brought a spruce tree to a dying sorcerer, before which he confessed and died without torment.
Coniferous trees - spruce, pine, juniper, fir, cedar, etc. - were endowed with special sacredness. They symbolized eternal life, immortality, and were the receptacle of the divine vitality, had cult significance
Dronova T.I. Earthly existence - as preparation for the afterlife
So, we see how our ancestors collected signs, on the basis of which they believed in certain properties of spruce.
Meanwhile, in our time, spruce is a symbol of the New Year, and many people plant fir trees in the yard so that later in the winter they can dance around it. And how can you imagine a plot in a country house or a private house without trees?
It is interesting that not only ordinary spruce is now planted on the plots, but also fir, which is also considered the tree of the dead, helping souls find their way after death. Canadian spruce trees are also popular, about which our ancestors have no signs at all.
Whether to follow the sign or not is a personal matter for everyone. When trusting this or that sign, it is important to remember psychological aspect.
With the help of omens, a person shifts responsibility for what is happening to a tree growing in the yard, a tit knocking on the window, a croaking crow, or spilled salt.
For some, this is an option for working with grief, in this way a person tries to survive the tragedy that has occurred, the death of a loved one. In “easier” cases, the psyche conveniently shifts responsibility for what is happening to signs, so as not to face an unpleasant reality that requires an even more unpleasant decision.
It's no secret that thoughts materialize. And if, for example, you see black tulips and remember that they are unlucky, and you constantly think about it, you will easily attract this misfortune.
This does not mean that our ancestors were superstitious and had absolutely cave mentality. No, their wisdom is still relevant today. Just remembering this or that sign, think about how it corresponds to our time. Believe in the magical and unknown, but do not forget about adequacy.
Is a spruce tree in the yard a bad omen or an invention and superstition? - all the secrets on the site
Do you want reliable protection or success in various endeavors? Then take advantage of the talismanic wisdom of the Slavs and the knowledge passed on from generation to generation in ancient Rus'. Break the cycle of failure by learning about better protection working towards your perfection. Read on our website about choosing amulets, amulets and talismans.
The harmony of a magical amulet with your biofield depends on several parameters: individual characteristics and desired goals. Do not forget about the difference between an amulet, a talisman and a talisman. The amulet is always made personally; the talisman and amulet can be purchased. In addition, the talisman attracts positive energy, and the amulet protects against negative energy.
For landscaping garden plots, not only perennial shrubs with decorative foliage, profusely flowering plants and fruit and berry crops are often used. The original landscape composition, contrary to centuries-old speculations and superstitions, is necessarily complemented by spruce - an evergreen conifer.
Why you can’t plant spruce on your property
Not everyone decides to plant this harmless tree on their property. And there are reasons for this, based on both prudential arguments and prejudices. In cult meaning, for some, spruce is a symbol eternal life and independence, for others - connection with the afterlife, witchcraft and troubles in life.
Usually the Christmas tree is associated with New Year holidays and gifts, and in ornamental gardening it is in the forefront.
The New Year tree often reminds us of pleasant moments and favorite winter holiday
Spruce wood is light and durable; it is used for the construction of bathhouses and outbuildings for livestock, and for making crafts and dishes. They have been making it from spruce since ancient times. musical instruments, including strings (violin, cello, guitar). Novgorod gusli medieval Rus' made exclusively from spruce. Cellulose, rosin, turpentine, tar - this is also spruce.
http://les.novosibdom.ru/node/411
Objective reasons
It cannot be said that some people unreasonably refuse to plant spruce on their site. In fact:
- wood and dry needles of spruce species are fire hazardous;
- spruce depletes the soil;
- horizontally located roots of this conifer can destroy the foundations of buildings.
Signs and superstitions
Prejudice is a psychological aspect that is perceived in different ways:
- “The spruce tree in the yard” took men away from home, brought trouble to the family and threatened childlessness and loneliness.
- IN Ancient Rus' this tree was a symbol of death.
- For esotericists, the Christmas tree is a source of powerful energy. Her conifer not only gives, but also takes away.
- Superstitious prejudices associate spruce with the dead. Spruce spruce branches are specially finely chopped over a fresh grave, thereby emphasizing the frailty of life.
A reasonable and sensible person is skeptical about such things.
When planted in groups, blue spruce does not require any design additions to decorate the landscape of the site
According to signs, people should refuse to plant spruce, aspen (symbol of illness and misfortune), oak, weeping willow (associated with loneliness and melancholy), poplar (tree - an energy vampire).
A huge assortment of conifers of this species different heights and shades allows you to make a good choice in favor of arranging your garden. Spruce perfectly “fills” any corner of the site, looks luxurious, but not pretentious all year round. When prejudices persist, you can plant this tree outside the territory; Our neighbors have spruce trees growing in their garden along the stream. A find for the superstitious - thuja, juniper, cedar.
Video: why you can’t plant a spruce near your house
It is difficult to answer unequivocally: a spruce tree near the house is a symbol of longevity and life or a friend of troubles. With a reasonable approach, this is, first of all, an unpretentious evergreen conifer, which will be an excellent design solution for the garden plot.
Current page: 1 (book has 5 pages in total) [available reading passage: 1 pages]
Sofia Prokofieva
Three heirs of the king
© S. Prokofieva, 2016
© K. Prokofiev, illustrations, layout, cover, 2016
© Publishing House "Fluid FreeFly", 2016
* * *
The works of Sofia Prokofieva, which are known and loved by more than one generation of readers, have been awarded many international awards. These include the Kodai Prize in Japan for best book for children, FIPRESCI Award, National literary prize“The Golden Pen of Rus'” and others. Sofia Prokofieva’s fairy tales have been translated into more than twenty languages. Many of her fairy tales and plays have been adapted into feature films and cartoons. The film adaptation of Sofia Prokofieva’s story “The Adventures of the Yellow Suitcase” (1970) received three awards at international festivals, including a silver medal at the Venice Biennale and a diploma for “Best Feature Film for Children” at the V International Children’s Film Festival in Tehran. She is the author of scripts from which about twenty short films and three full-length cartoons were created: “Patchwork and Cloud”, “Island of Captains”, “The Magician’s Apprentice”, children’s fiction art films- “While the clock is striking”, “Leave the window open”, as well as the psychological film-drama “Without Witnesses”, directed by N. Mikhalkov based on her play.
“I chose a fairy tale as a refuge where I can be most sincere. In general, a fairy tale requires silence and solitude. When a fairy tale is written, it is always surrounded by a veil of mystery. I always wrote as it was written, I was afraid to scare the world of a fairy tale, which is very fragile and requires careful attitude. When you write a fairy tale, you wait with hope that suddenly the characters you have invented will begin to act and dictate their own terms of play, to construct the plot differently, unexpectedly. Sometimes you just wonder how a fairy tale writes itself.”
Sofia Prokofieva
“What attracts me to a fairy tale is the depth, the mystery, the possibility of conveying the most intimate thoughts.”
Sofia Prokofieva
“Sometimes it seems that the author’s imagination is truly inexhaustible. The wonderful fairy tales of Sofia Prokofieva have won their strong place in children's literature. Poetic, full of mystery and romance, they live their own life, without competing with anything. Sometimes they resemble ancient legends, but funny characters and light, smart humor make them always relatable and modern.”
Yakov Akim
“No matter what fairy tale is - such fantasy-conceptions, so unusual, such unheard-of, unseen heroes of these fairy tales! Did you read? If you haven’t read it, then I envy you: there are so many interesting and exciting things ahead of you.”
Irina Tokmakova
“Many people see how beautiful the sky is, how changeable and unique it is, but plump gnomes and weightless birds no longer live there... Although, this does not apply to everyone. Some people manage to incomprehensibly not lose their childhood fantasy in the passing years. It is from them that storytellers emerge...”
Greshak S.I.
Chapter 1
Great sadness on the island of Tenoris, and this is where our story begins
Died, died beautiful queen Iverenda!
How sadly the bells ring in all the temples, seeing off the queen on a journey whose end no one knows.
All the women and girls in the city put on dark mournful clothes. They hold back their sobs so that their sadness does not fall even more heavily on the heart of the widowed king.
Look, good people! King Everend turned gray overnight. With his head down, he walks behind the coffin of his deceased wife. Roses surrounding her beautiful face, seem dead, and the queen seemed to have fallen asleep, there is such peace on her face, and a light smile glows on her lips.
The king is supported by the arm of his friend, Count Telramond, hunched over with old age. Even as a small child, King Iverend played on his lap, trying to reach with his little hands the golden chain on his chest.
And when the young king grew up, they fought hand in hand with the cruel Uriegs, who had long dreamed of capturing the island of Tenoris, famous for its gold deposits in the mountains.
The king leaned his left hand on the shoulder of the young princess Eweina. She was so fragile and tender that at times she seemed like a child. Everyone who saw her lovely face just once could never forget it. It was as if precious stones were scattered in the depths of her eyes. And the pale face amazed with its inexplicable charm.
Now the sorrowful procession headed through the Elven Glade to the temple on the hill. The elven clearing is overgrown with short grass, shimmering with silver and silk. Daisies and bluebells peeked out from the grass. Elves in colorful clothes flew from one flower to another.
Previously, the king often liked to relax in the Elven Glade. He was amused by the crafty, playful, always careless elves. One foot is bare, the other wears a tiny boot made of soft leather. This is how it happened with the elves.
But now the king did not even look at the flock of winged babies. Well, the elves themselves, having dropped two or three tears, flew away from the coffin and began their carefree, cheerful dance again. Elves don't know how to be sad for long.
Only one elf in a blue dress buried himself in the blonde curls of Princess Evaina. As soon as he notices an involuntary tear on the princess’s cheek, he immediately wipes it away with his palm, and he himself can barely restrain his sobs.
“Quiet, quiet, Elfiol, dear,” Princess Evaine whispered. “We all grieve for the beautiful, kind Queen Iverende...
Finally, the king, followed by all those close to him, approached the marble tomb.
A farewell kiss, and the queen’s beautiful face was covered with a thin white veil.
Funeral bells rang. The servants almost carried the king out of the tomb in their arms. Here it is, the Elven Meadow, full sunlight, joy and happy fun. But the king did not notice anything. Everything was covered with tears of despair.
At this time, a coal-black, as if burnt, Swallow flew over the clearing. She chirped something and disappeared.
– Swallow – the messenger of misfortune! – people in the crowd started talking. – What other trouble can we expect? What other misfortune and adversity?..
Everyone looked anxiously at the black Swallow.
Elfiol, who knew the language of birds, whispered in Princess Eweine's ear:
“Soon the funeral bells will ring again,” that’s what the Swallow told us about.
An unusual silence reigned at the table in the banquet hall. The king's closest friends have gathered here, faithful comrades on weapons.
Finally Count Telramond, whom the king often called his elder brother, stood up. The Count raised golden cup, and thousands of rays played on its patterns, illuminating the hall.
– The sun, on its fiery chariot, makes its destined journey every day. The moon emerges to replace it, and the angels generously scatter radiant stars across the sky. Life goes on. You are still young enough, my king! I'm not rushing you, God forbid! But time will pass, and you must choose a new wife, pure of heart and bright thoughts!
The king stood up sharply and spoke with unexpected force:
- Forgive me, my old friend, but this will not happen. I will never stand in front of the altar with my new chosen one, I will never exchange wedding rings with her. But listen to me, everyone, because as I say now, so it will be! My beloved Queen Iverenda and I dreamed of a girl. But our daughter, even in infancy, was called by the Lord to his heavenly palaces. I was sad and could not be consoled beautiful love Queen Iverenda. In memory of her melancholy and secret tears hidden from me, I will take a girl with with a loving heart and a sinless soul. If she is from a simple class, I will teach her to walk easily and smoothly, to speak quietly, but at the same time commandingly, I will teach her the noble simplicity in every word and gesture, which distinguishes the princess from other women. But she must be an orphan so that I can be her father, and the memory of Queen Iverende can be the memory of her mother. And now, when I die, she will become your mistress, the rightful heir to the island of Tenoris...
Having finished these words, the king helplessly dropped his head on his crossed arms.
A strange silence reigned at the funeral table. Count Telramond placed the golden cup on the table without taking a sip.
Everyone was silent - who would dare to object to the king when he announces his will?
Many beautiful girls were sitting at the table. Many of them shyly lowered their eyes in the vague hope that the king would choose her as his heir.
But the eyes of most of the men sitting at the table were focused on the two beauties.
One of them, the Duchess of Aldona, sat right hand king, and the rays of the sun flashed on her crown, carved from a single piece clear ice. Two tight black braids fell over her high chest. They were supported at the back of the head by two sharp pins, decorated at the ends with large diamonds.
The stone castle of Duchess Aldona stood on northern tip Tenoris Islands. It seemed as if the cold winds had extinguished the blush on her dazzlingly beautiful face. Her huge black eyes seemed bottomless, full of tempting mystery. Sometimes a deeply hidden crimson fire flared up in them. But long winged eyelashes extinguished his shine.
“It’s impossible to be more beautiful than Duchess Aldona!” - the guests whispered.
Not far from the duchess's stone castle, the Ice Rock glistened dimly. Eternal cold blew from her, and gusts of sharp wind sometimes reached the castle of Duchess Aldona. Then the servants hastily closed the high windows and lit all the fireplaces. And yet the castle was covered with patterned frost on one side.
During a storm, seagulls crashed to their death on the steep ledges of the Ice Rock.
A narrow, icy staircase rose upward, circling between slippery cliffs. But not a single daredevil has yet dared to climb it to the top of the Ice Rock.
By left hand Princess Evaine sat before the king. And the views of the guests, as if tired of the formidable beauty of Duchess Aldona, increasingly turned towards Princess Eweina.
The young princess, thin and fragile, next to the black-eyed beauty Aldona, at first glance could seem colorless and even homely.
But as soon as you looked into her eyes, in the depths of which precious stones seemed to be scattered, everyone’s heart began to beat faster and there was no strength to take their eyes off her captivating face.
Her thin golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders. When the rays of the sun illuminated the princess, her head seemed to be surrounded by a pale glow.
The princess's island was located near the island of Tenoris, the domain of King Iverend.
She was not three years old when her parents, King Ilionis and his wife, died. One unfortunate day, a richly decorated boat docked at the island.
King Ilionis went out to the pier. The exhausted, desperate rowers said that their comrade had died at sea during a sudden storm. There he lies at the bottom of the boat, wrapped in a thick sail. The sailors asked to take the body and bury it in consecrated ground according to Christian custom. How could King Ilionis refuse?
The sailors themselves carried the body ashore and laid it on the grass. They immediately set sail from the island. One of the king’s retinue later said that the faces of all the sailors were cast with an unhealthy green color and they looked like the dead.
And a strange thing, as soon as the boat set sail from the shore, it disappeared, disappeared, instantly disappeared from view.
The dead sailor was given a funeral service and buried. Everyone who was in the church noticed that his face had completely turned black.
– Isn’t this a plague? - said the old woman with fear, who has seen a lot of things in her lifetime.
So great misfortune came to the island of King Ilionis. There was no time to bury the dead. The funeral bells rang incessantly. King Ilionis and his beautiful wife died on the same day.
Only a few people remained alive. And the happiness that there was someone to mourn the untimely dead, to perform a funeral service and bury them.
The little princess played carefree in the meadow, surrounded by butterflies and elves. No one knew what they fed the child. Sometimes she called her father or mother, then the elves started merry round dances around her. In the evening they covered the princess with wide leaves, and she slept until the sun woke her up.
One day the old Count Telramond sailed to the island. Without fear of a deadly infection, he held a funeral service in a half-empty church, took Princess Eweina in his arms and sailed with her to the island of Tenoris.
Princess Evaine grew up in the high castle of Count Telramond. The old count loved her like his own daughter. And only when the princess was sixteen years old did he allow her to return to her native island, which had long been inhabited by residents of neighboring lands.
On this day, the last to arrive at the palace of King Iverend was Prince Pellinore. Apparently, the sea was in earnest at this hour. The prince threw his soaked cloak into the hands of the servants. He was tall and slender, his large, steel-gray eyes looked open and firm. He knelt down on one knee in front of the king and pressed his lips to his hand, not knowing how to express his deep sympathy. He stood there for a long time until the king put his hand on his damp, tangled hair and said in a trembling voice:
- Stand up, my prince.
Prince Pellinor stood up, and at that moment he met the eyes of Princess Eweine. It seemed to many that when their eyes met, bright sparks flew out. But Evaina modestly lowered her eyelashes.
Whether those sparks meant anything or not, who knows?
Duchess Aldona bit her scarlet lip with her snow-white teeth.
“What a handsome man! – thought the duchess, looking at the prince. “No, I won’t give it to that skinny princess.” I think I was waiting for him long years and finally waited..."
Chapter 2
Overheard conversations, but this is only the beginning of our story
Duchess Aldona hid behind an overgrown acacia bush, covered with thick branches. She tried to prevent the sun's rays from falling on her icy crown. The Duchess impatiently picked off and threw to the ground long acacia pods full of ripened grains.
Footsteps and the creaking of sand under sharp heels were heard.
Princess Eweine, in a dull silver dress, and Prince Pellinore walked past the Duchess. He walked, bending slightly towards the princess and at the same time fearing that he would involuntarily touch her thin hand.
“My horse went lame, tripping on the wet marble steps of the royal palace,” the prince said regretfully. “And I dreamed of showing you, princess, gold mines on the southern tip of the island of Tenoris.”
– There are experienced healers in the royal stable. Your horse will soon be healthy,” Evaina responded.
The conversation was trivial, seemingly ordinary, but the voices of the interlocutors sounded tender and soulful.
Duchess Aldona clenched her hands so hard that overripe acacia grains rained down like hail. Her long fingers were stained with thick green juice.
Aldona stealthily followed the lovers.
Eweine and Prince Pellinore stopped at a fork in the road. The prince reverently kissed Evaina's hand, trying to keep his lips on her fingers as long as possible. But Evaina freed her hand and said something tenderly to him. Then they went in different directions.
Prince Pellinor went to the royal stables, deciding to look at his horse. And Evaine headed through the Elven Glade to the temple on the hill.
She had not gone even halfway when little Elfiol fell on her shoulder in blue dress. I fiddled around and made myself comfortable among her curls.
– I’ll go to the temple with you, okay? I want to listen to the organ. Then I will light candles under the very dome, where it is difficult for even young monks to climb. And I will cry... cry and listen to the organ...
-Are you sad about the departed good queen? – Evaina asked her affectionately.
“Yes,” Elfiol answered quietly. “When Queen Iverenda went to the temple, she always took me with her.”
- To the temple? – Evaina was surprised. – How strange... Elves also live on my island. But they are so shy and avoid people. And they fly around the temple the longest way.
“Eh, yes, it’s the same with us,” Elfiol sighed. - Maybe they are afraid of the bell ringing? And I climb into a corner and listen to the sounds of the organ and singing, and it seems to me that I am in heaven to my very heart.
“You are not like other elves,” the princess said thoughtfully.
“Because I dream...” Elfiol whispered and fell silent.
- What do you dream about? – asked Evaina. – What else does the little elf need?
“We can’t talk about this,” Elfiol sighed. “Only my dear Queen Iverende knew about this.” But she always repeated: “Poor Elfiol, you dream of what you will never get... You are looking for something that is not given to you to find...”
Meanwhile, Duchess Aldona, having seen off Princess Evaina with a hateful glance, headed towards her stone castle.
She walked past a gazebo overgrown with ivy, entered it and sat down on a marble bench, throwing velvet cushions to the sides.
Two court ladies walked past her, talking quietly. But Duchess Aldona had hearing like a wild forest animal, and she heard every word.
“We will soon know who King Iverend has chosen as his heir,” said one lady. “He will probably choose Princess Evaine.” She has such extraordinary eyes.
- Nonsense, nonsense! – the second lady objected angrily. - Princess Evaine! Only this was not enough! She is dull, gray, like moth. If you pass by, you won’t notice. Another thing is the Duchess of Aldona. Her eyes are burning, and her black silky braids! They are barely held in place by long gold pins. This is who is truly worthy...
“But the king will choose an orphan as his heir,” the first lady timidly objected. – And the duchess, thank God, has parents alive and well.
Both ladies passed by, their steps died away.
The Duchess jumped up sharply and rubbed her juice-green hands.
“Alive and well...” she whispered. - Yes, they are alive and well, my dear parents...
The Duchess came out of the gazebo and quickly walked away with her light, gliding gait.
Chapter 3
The red-haired brothers of Duchess Aldona, but it would be better if they did not sail to the island of Tenoris
Again the funeral bell hums mournfully over the island of Tenoris.
Servants dressed in black carry two coffins covered with brocade covers with crosses embroidered on them.
Great misfortune has once again visited the peaceful island.
At night a ship landed on the shore. In the darkness, even the lighthouse keeper could not make out what kind of flag was fluttering on the high mast. Like shadows, a gang of thugs descended from him along the ladder. Their faces are covered with blank masks, wide-brimmed hats are pulled low over their eyebrows, and sharp thin knives are in their hands. We went up the stone stairs to the castle of Duchess Aldona.
And lo and behold, the faithful servants and guards, who had served their masters impeccably for many years, fell into a deathly sleep, all as one, bewitched or intoxicated with an unknown potion. So they lay at the door, motionless, until the first rays of dawn.
And the murderers deftly made their way from hall to hall, as if someone was showing them the way.
It’s good that the killers didn’t climb the steep stairs to North Tower, apparently, they were in a hurry. Thus, miraculously, the young Duchess Aldona survived. And the vile murderers quickly slipped out of the castle, disappeared on their ship and hastily raised the sails.
Staggering, Duchess Aldona walked behind the servants carrying her untimely dead parents. She was covered from head to toe in a black veil. The ice crown on her bowed head glowed slightly through the thick lace.
To her left was the old nanny, blind from tears. She wanted to support her pupil, but she disgustedly pushed her wrinkled hand away. Princess Evaine walked to the right, affectionately hugging Aldona. She cried, full of sympathy for her friend, quietly whispering prayers.
“Pray, my dear,” she whispered to Duchess Aldona. “The Lord will punish the murderers for their terrible crime.”
The beautiful Aldona shuddered and recoiled from Princess Eweina... But then she again pressed her hand to her and whispered barely audibly:
- Thank you, dear... There is nothing more valuable than participation in an hour great loss. I will never forget how you consoled me...
“Poor thing,” Princess Evaine sighed quietly. - How I understand you. After all, I myself experienced the same grief.
Suddenly a wind came whistling from the direction North Sea, bringing small splashes and the smell of algae. Tree branches swayed. The edge of the funeral brocade cover fluttered and fluttered.
The pale face of the deceased Duchess Eliza was revealed. Amazement and horror froze in her dead eyes. And on the left side of the chest, where until recently a loving heart had been beating, everyone saw a deeply embedded gold pin, decorated with precious stones. The young duchess used these pins to fasten her heavy braids.
Aldona quickly extended her hand and lowered her mother’s eyelids so that her dead eyes would not look into emptiness. She straightened the brocade bedspread.
The women in the church were crying. Everyone loved the kind Duchess Eliza and her husband.
Meanwhile, the servants set the tables in spacious halls stone palace. All the fireplaces were lit hotly, but the dank cold walking through the halls carried away all the warmth.
A tall ship entered the harbor. On the mast is the flag of the deceased Duke - a flower and a snake. A wooden mermaid smiled mysteriously at the bow.
Duchess Aldona's three brothers ran down the stairs. All three are red, like they each have a fire on their head. The brothers stood silently, but did not shed a tear.
Everyone who came to the funeral gasped and mourned. They regretted that the duke’s sons arrived late, the damned murderers had time to sail. The ship of the young dukes entered the harbor late; they would not have missed the villains.
At first, the red-haired brothers sat quietly and decorously at the table next to their beautiful sister, who had never taken off her black veil and ice crown.
But soon the strong wine from the castle cellars went to their heads. It seems they were unaccustomed to intoxicating drinks. Then the servants brought out trays of gold. Each brother in turn was given a memorable gift by the Duchess of Aldona. The brothers greedily grabbed the heavy ancient coins. They looked at each other unkindly, as if they were afraid that someone would get more. They respectfully kissed the sister's hands and immediately took hold of the goblets full of wine. Having drained the goblet, they knocked it on the table and demanded another strong drink.
One of the brothers was the first to start a song, seasoned with salty sailor words. Others picked up. Soon the red-haired brothers completely loosened their belts. They began to sing obscene songs, unprecedented at a funeral meal.
One after another, silently but menacingly frowning, without looking at anyone, without saying goodbye, the honorable guests rose from the table and left the hall.
Two red-haired brothers argued whose wallet was heavier. Having become enraged, they pulled out long knives. And the sharp blades are in the blood... Duchess Aldona slightly frowned her satin eyebrows, her eyes sparkled - the brothers instantly calmed down.
Long after midnight, the windows in the stone castle of Duchess Aldona were burning, and songs poured out one another, riotous and obscene, onto the silent hills.
Princess Evaine slipped out of the hall unnoticed.
Attention! This is an introductory fragment of the book.
If you liked the beginning of the book, then full version can be purchased from our partner - distributor of legal content, LLC liters.
© S. Prokofieva, 2016
© K. Prokofiev, illustrations, layout, cover, 2016
© Publishing House "Fluid FreeFly", 2016
The works of Sofia Prokofieva, which are known and loved by more than one generation of readers, have been awarded many international awards. These include the Kodai Award in Japan for the best book for children, the FIPRESCI Award, the National Literary Award “Golden Pen of Rus'”, etc. Sofia Prokofieva’s fairy tales have been translated into more than twenty languages. Many of her fairy tales and plays have been adapted into feature and animated films. The film adaptation of Sofia Prokofieva’s story “The Adventures of the Yellow Suitcase” (1970) received three awards at international festivals, including a silver medal at the Venice Biennale and a diploma for “Best Feature Film for Children” at the V International Children’s Film Festival in Tehran. She is the author of scripts from which about twenty short films and three full-length cartoons were created: “Patchwork and Cloud”, “Island of Captains”, “The Magician’s Apprentice”, children’s feature films – “While the Clock Strikes”, “Leave the Window Open”, and also the psychological film-drama “Without Witnesses,” directed by N. Mikhalkov based on her play.
“I chose a fairy tale as a refuge where I can be most sincere. In general, a fairy tale requires silence and solitude. When a fairy tale is written, it is always surrounded by a veil of mystery. I always wrote as it was written, I was afraid to scare the world of a fairy tale, which is very fragile and requires careful handling. When you write a fairy tale, you wait with hope that suddenly the characters you have invented will begin to act and dictate their own terms of play, to construct the plot differently, unexpectedly. Sometimes you just wonder how a fairy tale writes itself.”
Sofia Prokofieva
“What attracts me to a fairy tale is the depth, the mystery, the possibility of conveying the most intimate thoughts.”
Sofia Prokofieva
“Sometimes it seems that the author’s imagination is truly inexhaustible. The wonderful fairy tales of Sofia Prokofieva have won their strong place in children's literature. Poetic, full of mystery and romance, they live their own lives, not competing with anything. Sometimes they resemble ancient legends, but funny characters and light, smart humor make them always relatable and modern.”
Yakov Akim
“No matter what fairy tale is - such fantasy-conceptions, so unusual, such unheard-of, unseen heroes of these fairy tales! Did you read? If you haven’t read it, then I envy you: there are so many interesting and exciting things ahead of you.”
Irina Tokmakova
“Many people see how beautiful the sky is, how changeable and unique it is, but plump gnomes and weightless birds no longer live there... Although, this does not apply to everyone. Some people manage to incomprehensibly not lose their childhood fantasy in the passing years. It is from them that storytellers emerge...”
Greshak S.I.
Great sadness on the island of Tenoris, and this is where our story begins
The beautiful Queen Iverenda is dead, dead!
How sadly the bells ring in all the temples, seeing off the queen on a journey whose end no one knows.
All the women and girls in the city put on dark mournful clothes. They hold back their sobs so that their sadness does not fall even more heavily on the heart of the widowed king.
Look, good people! King Everend turned gray overnight. With his head down, he walks behind the coffin of his deceased wife. The roses that surrounded her beautiful face seem dead, and the queen seemed to have fallen asleep, there is such peace on her face, and a light smile glows on her lips.
The king is supported by the arm of his friend, Count Telramond, hunched over with old age. Even as a small child, King Iverend played on his lap, trying to reach with his little hands the golden chain on his chest.
And when the young king grew up, they fought hand in hand with the cruel Uriegs, who had long dreamed of capturing the island of Tenoris, famous for its gold deposits in the mountains.
The king leaned his left hand on the shoulder of the young princess Eweina. She was so fragile and tender that at times she seemed like a child. Everyone who saw her lovely face just once could never forget it. It was as if precious stones were scattered in the depths of her eyes. And the pale face amazed with its inexplicable charm.
Now the sorrowful procession headed through the Elven Glade to the temple on the hill. The elven clearing is overgrown with short grass, shimmering with silver and silk. Daisies and bluebells peeked out from the grass. Elves in colorful clothes flew from one flower to another.
Previously, the king often liked to relax in the Elven Glade. He was amused by the crafty, playful, always careless elves. One foot is bare, the other wears a tiny boot made of soft leather. This is how it happened with the elves.
But now the king did not even look at the flock of winged babies. Well, the elves themselves, having dropped two or three tears, flew away from the coffin and began their carefree, cheerful dance again. Elves don't know how to be sad for long.
Only one elf in a blue dress buried himself in the blonde curls of Princess Evaina. As soon as he notices an involuntary tear on the princess’s cheek, he immediately wipes it away with his palm, and he himself can barely restrain his sobs.
“Quiet, quiet, Elfiol, dear,” Princess Evaine whispered. “We all grieve for the beautiful, kind Queen Iverende...
Finally, the king, followed by all those close to him, approached the marble tomb.
A farewell kiss, and the queen’s beautiful face was covered with a thin white veil.
Funeral bells rang. The servants almost carried the king out of the tomb in their arms. Here it is, the Elven Meadow, full of sunshine, joy and happy fun. But the king did not notice anything. Everything was covered with tears of despair.
At this time, a coal-black, as if burnt, Swallow flew over the clearing. She chirped something and disappeared.
– Swallow – the messenger of misfortune! – people in the crowd started talking. – What other trouble can we expect? What other misfortune and adversity?..
Everyone looked anxiously at the black Swallow.
Elfiol, who knew the language of birds, whispered in Princess Eweine's ear:
“Soon the funeral bells will ring again,” that’s what the Swallow told us about.
An unusual silence reigned at the table in the banquet hall. The king's closest friends, loyal comrades in arms, gathered here.
Finally Count Telramond, whom the king often called his elder brother, stood up. The Count raised the golden cup, and thousands of rays played on its patterns, illuminating the hall.
– The sun, on its fiery chariot, makes its destined journey every day. The moon emerges to replace it, and the angels generously scatter radiant stars across the sky. Life goes on. You are still young enough, my king! I'm not rushing you, God forbid! But time will pass, and you must choose a new wife, pure in heart and bright in thoughts!
The king stood up sharply and spoke with unexpected force:
- Forgive me, my old friend, but this will not happen. I will never stand in front of the altar with my new chosen one, I will never exchange wedding rings with her. But listen to me, everyone, because as I say now, so it will be! My beloved Queen Iverenda and I dreamed of a girl. But our daughter, even in infancy, was called by the Lord to his heavenly palaces. My beautiful love, Queen Iverenda, was sad and could not be consoled. In memory of her melancholy and secret tears hidden from me, I will take to the castle a girl with a loving heart and a sinless soul. If she is from a simple class, I will teach her to walk easily and smoothly, to speak quietly, but at the same time commandingly, I will teach her the noble simplicity in every word and gesture, which distinguishes the princess from other women. But she must be an orphan so that I can be her father, and the memory of Queen Iverende can be the memory of her mother. And now, when I die, she will become your mistress, the rightful heir to the island of Tenoris...