#folk tale

Hansel from the Untold series.

hiiiii i'm doing another series. XD This is called Untold, basically fairytale characters defying their fates and stuff.

You know the story of Hansel and Gretel. But what if Gretel was eaten by the witch?

Here, in Untold, Gretel was devoured by the witch, and Hansel managed to get away. As punishment, the witch chopped off Hansel's hand and replaced it with a candy hand that would slowly creep up his arm as a curse.

Hansel ran away from home, joining The Untold, an organization of fairy tales who defy their fates. Hansel became a witch hunter hellbent on revenge for his sister.

His candy hand can shoot spikes, turn into taffy whips or ropes, among other things, but the more he uses it, the more painful the hand becomes as the curse creeps up his arm.

It is a law of nature.

Usually, there are no more than three princesses in a kingdom, but in one particular kingdom there were once seven—and so the last troll to materialize had 21 heads.

Now, the business of rescuing princesses is a monotonous affair:

The farmer’s son arrives at the first princess - her troll is asleep. She tells him to be quiet and points to the sword on the wall. He tries to lift it—it doesn’t work. She tells him to take three sips from the bottle standing next to the sword. He takes a sip, tries again, and can lift it just a tiny bit. He takes another sip, and can swing it a little more. He takes a third sip, and it feels as light as a feather. He cuts off all the troll’s heads.

(He pointedly does not ask her why she never took the sword off of the wall herself if all she needs to swing it is that bottle.)

She thanks him effusively and tells him where the next sister is.

The farm boy travels to the second princess - her troll is asleep. She motions for him to be quiet and points to the sword leaning against the wall. He tries to lift it—it doesn’t work. She tells him to take three sips from the bottle next to the sword. He takes a sip, tries again, and manages to lift it just a tiny bit. Et cetera.

As mentioned, there are usually a maximum of three trolls, which is why even the third troll can typically be caught off guard by such an attack—but with seven, things are different.

The fourth troll sensed trouble coming but was sure that he could never be caught off guard while sleeping.

The fifth convinced himself he could stay awake.

The sixth actually managed to stay awake, they fought, he lost.

The seventh troll simply left. He didn’t care much about the princess anyway—how could two dainty hands possibly manage to pick lice out of 21 heads?

About the Enchanted Beauty Ukrainian Folk Tale of Podillia

A tale about a marten maiden and a kind prince

Once upon a time, there lived an old man and an old woman. They were very poor, living in a little shabby hut with lots of holes, wearing clothes mended again and again. One day, the old man went into the forest and met a marten sitting by a tree, almost in tears. He approached her and asked:

"Why are you so sad, little marten?"

The marten told him her sorrow. The old man picked her up and carried her home. But this was no ordinary marten - it was the daughter of the Forest King, a beautiful forest maiden. Because she had disobeyed her father, he declared that she would remain a marten until the rose that grew in the poorest person’s garden bloomed again.

The old man brought the marten home and said to his wife:

"Look, woman, what I brought from the forest today. Now we will live together with her - someone to talk to, someone to care for, since God has not given us children."

Days passed, months passed, and the old couple grew very fond of the marten, and she of them. One day, a young prince came to spend the night at their house. In the morning, as he prepared to leave, he saw the marten and was astonished - she was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen.

"Old man, give me that marten. Why keep her when you can barely feed yourselves?"

"No, prince, I will not give her away."

"I will give you anything you desire, only let me have her."

"Nothing gold or grand can tempt me. Bring me the Water of Life, and then you may take the marten."

"Very well," said the prince, "I will bring you this water."

The prince returned home but could think of nothing but the marten. He sent messengers far and wide to find the Water of Life. Days passed, and they returned with nothing. So the prince decided to seek it himself.

He traveled and traveled until he came upon an old grandmother, barely able to stand. Though frightened at first, he noticed her kind eyes and could not pass her by.

"Grandmother, may I help you in any way?"

"Thank you, dear, but all I need is someone to speak with, as no living soul remains in these lands; the serpents have eaten them all. Where are you headed, good young man?"

"I am searching for the Water of Life. Could you help me, or do you know where it is?"

"I know, son, but can you reach it? A three-headed serpent guards the water and allows no one near."

"Thank you, grandmother. No serpent can stop me, even with twelve heads."

"I give you this little hedgehog; it will show you the way to the healing water. But beware the fierce serpent."

Following the hedgehog, the prince came across a viper bleeding from its belly.

"Kind prince, please help me; place this leaf on my wound, and I shall aid you later."

He helped the viper and continued. Soon he saw an eagle sitting, holding its wing.

"Prince, please help me bind my wing; I will help you in return."

The prince assisted the eagle. As he went on, the ground trembled, and he saw the three-headed serpent approaching. Worrying, he wondered how to defend himself - but the viper he had healed appeared and said:

"Take this water and pour it on the serpent; it will fall asleep. While it sleeps, collect the healing water. But you must reach the other side of the river to the spring."

The prince wondered how to cross, as there was neither boat nor bridge - but then the eagle he had helped flew down.

"Climb on my back; I will carry you across the river."

The prince gathered the Water of Life, thanked the eagle and viper, and returned home. He presented the water to the old man and woman.

"Here, old man, I have brought the Water of Life. Now give me the marten."

"Wait, my son. First, we must sprinkle this water on the withered rose in our garden."

The scene of this fairy-tale is set in the Far North. The land where the Sun travels across the sky in a sleigh drawn by the Deer with the Golden Antlers, and where Blizzard, the wicked witch, rules the Night. The people inhabiting these cold regions have their own tales and legends in which brave and resourceful heroes come to grips with and triumph over the evil forces of Nature. Janna…

Ums Morgengrauen