Cinderella and Alangazar - страница 12

the stepmother woke the girl

and ordered her to fetch water

from a far-off well.

The girl didn’t complain —

she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders,

picked up two heavy buckets,

and walked barefoot down the damp path.”

– “How brave,” whispered Fox,

nestling closer to Cinderella.

– “The night was dark. Only the moon

lit her path with silver light.

And she walked, humming softly to herself.

Tears dropped onto the grass,

like pearls from the thread of fate.”

—

“But the stepmother wasn’t just cruel —

she was a witch.

She ordered the clouds to cover the moon.”

– “Did it get dark?” Alangazar asked,

wide-eyed, afraid to miss a word.

– “It did.

The darkness fell like a curtain.

The girl stumbled,

fell, spilled the water,

hurt her foot.

She sat down, clutched the bucket…

and cried – not from pain,

but from grief and exhaustion.

Because kindness wasn’t coming back.”

No one spoke. Only a twig crackled in the fire,

like a gentle sigh.

– “But her tears were so pure,

so true,

that the Moon awoke.

Through the thick clouds,

she stretched out a ray,

parted the darkness —

and lit the path.”

The moonlight swirled down,

wrapped around the girl,

embraced her like a mother,

and lifted her into the sky.

– “Took her?” whispered Alangazar,

shielding his eyes from the fire.

– “Yes.

Since then, the girl lives on the Moon.

She cares for the stars,

washes them with dew,

so they shine brightly.

And when you see the kindest, quietest little star in the sky —

that’s her, watching you and smiling.”

A long silence rested over the fire.

A kind, glowing silence.

Cinderella gazed at the sky,

and a tiny tear sparkled on Fox’s cheek.

– “That was beautiful,” Cinderella whispered.

– “Warm… and sad.”

– “Thank you, Ertoshtuk,” said Fox,

scratching behind his ear to hide his emotion.

– “You’re not just a warrior.

You’re a true storyteller.”

The fire sighed, the stars whispered.

And in every heart around the fire —

a drop of light remained.

The light of that girl on the Moon.

The Story of Alangazar

Alangazar slowly rose from the log. The firelight flickered across his broad face. He looked around at his friends, straightened up, and announced solemnly:

"Now listen to my tale. It’s a story my great-grandfather used to tell me when I was little.

Oh, what a giant he was!

He was so strong—

when he washed his hands, rivers changed their course!"

Everyone laughed, and Alangazar, pleased with the reaction, went on:

"When he was young, he wasn’t just strong—he was curiously strong. One day he decided to find out who was stronger: him… or a human.

Just out of curiosity!

So he walks through the forest and sees a hunter.

Looks ordinary. Skinny, even.

But there’s a spark in his eye."

"He caught him?" Fox gasped. "Like a rabbit?"

"Almost," Alangazar chuckled. "Great-granddad walks right up and says,

‘Alright, strongman—let’s test our might!’

And the hunter, without blinking, replies,

‘Who are you? Show me what you’ve got first.’"

"And did he?" Cinderella asked, her eyes shining.

"Oh, he sure did!" the giant declared proudly.

"With one hand, he yanked a tree out of the ground.

With the other—bam!—he hit a cliff so hard it cracked, and birds flew screaming from the trees!

Then he jumped—

and landed with such force he sank knee-deep into the earth!"

"Wow!" Fox breathed, her paws pressed to her chest.

"And the hunter?" Ertoshtuk asked, narrowing his eyes with interest.

Alangazar smirked:

"The hunter just brushed some dust off his shoulder.