Cinderella and Alangazar - страница 11

And left the rest untouched.

Thus ended their journey.

And thus began their return.

To the light.

To Cinderella.

To those waiting at the gate.

And to a new chapter in a wondrous story,

where courage mattered more than gold,

and a heart – was stronger than any sword.

Chapter 3: Night

Night descended softly,

like a velvet blanket.

Stars spilled across the sky —

silent, as if afraid to disturb

those sitting by the fire.

The flames crackled —

warm, cozy, like home.

The fire danced in Cinderella’s eyes,

reflected on Alangazar’s cheek,

and cast light on Ertoshtuk’s shoulders

as he sat with a mug of tea in his hands.

Fox had settled closer to the fire,

wrapped his tail snugly around himself

and squinted slyly.

– “One day,” he began,

and even the flames seemed to pause to listen.

– “It was just like a fairy tale!

I was walking through the forest – calm, slow.

Suddenly – wham!

There it was, hanging from a branch:

long, juicy… a sausage!

Like a holiday garland!”c

He clicked his teeth for effect.

– “So I didn’t hesitate – chomp!

Right into my mouth.

I thought: ‘Well, fate sure has a delicious sense of humor!’”

Laughter fluttered around the circle,

like a breeze across the grass.

—

“But let me tell you – the joy was short,

as short as a rabbit’s tail,”

Fox continued, now warmed up.

—

“Out of the bushes – bam!

Come Wolf, Tiger… and Lion.

Three faces. All serious – like tax collectors.

They stare at me and say:

‘Hey, Fox, what’re you chewing so politely?’”

Cinderella smiled, hugging her knees.

Alangazar snorted, anticipating the twist.

– “I’m no fool, of course. I tell them:

‘This isn’t food! It’s a magic scarf!

I bite it – I’m full. I wrap it back up – I move on!’”

– “Oh wow!” Ertoshtuk snorted.

– “And then…” Fox drew out the pause,

glancing at each of them.

– “While they were feeling my ‘scarf’ and dreaming about it,

I – zip! – into the bushes. With the sausage!

They’re probably still looking for the recipe…”

Laughter sparkled through the air,

like flying sparks.

Alangazar slapped his knee:

– “You sly fox!

A sausage-scarf – that’s genius!”

– “A clever nose always knows where dinner’s warm,”

Fox said meaningfully,

and took a satisfied sip of tea.

The fire shimmered.

A star fell.

The night embraced them all.

And in the silence after the laughter,

there was space for warmth.

For friendship.

And for fairy tales.

The Story of the Ertoshtuk

– “The key is cleverness!” said Fox proudly, eyeing everyone,

and then nodded toward Ertoshtuk.

– “And you, dungeon hero – got a story for us?”

– “Tell us,” Cinderella chimed in.

– “Yes, please,” whispered Fox, getting comfortable.

Silence fell over the fire like a veil.

The flames quivered, as if awaiting a story.

The stars leaned closer, holding their breath.

Ertoshtuk looked up. His voice was calm, deep – like an old well.

– “Long ago, in a distant village,” he began,

– “lived a little girl. Her mother passed away early,

and her father, not wanting her to be alone, remarried.

But the new wife was cold as ice

and cruel as the February wind.”

– “There are too many like that,” sighed Cinderella,

placing a hand on Fox’s shoulder.

– “Yes,” Ertoshtuk nodded.

– “The stepmother made the girl work from dawn till dusk.

A kind word was rare —

like gold. Precious and unreachable.

And when her father passed,

she was truly alone.”

The fire crackled gently, not interrupting.

Even the crickets seemed to quiet down to listen.

– “One night, while everyone slept,