Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version

The Witch of Zarath

 Once upon a time, in the ancient and mystical kingdom of Zarath, where the sands of time whispered secrets and the stars wove tales of old, lived a witch named Rahele. Though the townsfolk whispered of her supposed malevolence, those who truly knew her spoke of her kindness and the miraculous healing potions she crafted herself and sold at fair prices.

Zarath was a land of beauty and prosperity, its golden domes and bustling bazaars a testament to the wisdom and benevolence of Sultan Harun. The sultan was beloved by his people, as were his sons, especially the charming and brave Prince Sarili. The prince was known for his kindness, often seen in the streets of Zarath, helping the needy and listening to the tales of the old.

One serene morning, as the sun appeared below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city, the tranquility was shattered. A cry echoed through the palace halls, and soon the news spread like wildfire: Prince Sarili had been kidnapped. Panic and fear gripped the hearts of the people. In the midst of the chaos, suspicion quickly turned towards Rahele. The townsfolk, driven by fear and the need to find someone to blame, pointed fingers at the so-called "evil witch." Whispers of her dark magic and secluded life fueled the fire of their accusations.

Determined to clear her name, Rahele set out for the palace. Her heart pounded as she approached the grand gates, but she held her head high. She was innocent, and she would prove it.

As she walked through the bustling streets, the whispers of the townsfolk followed her. "There goes the witch," they murmured. "She must be the one who took the prince." Rahele ignored their words, her mind focused on her mission.

When she reached the palace, the guards eyed her warily but allowed her entry. The grand halls of the palace were filled with tension and sorrow. Servants moved silently, their faces etched with worry. Rahele was led to the throne room, where Sultan Harun sat, his face a mask of grief.

"Your Majesty," Rahele began, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her heart. "I did not take Prince Sarili. But I can show you who did."

The sultan's eyes, filled with a mix of hope and skepticism, met hers. "Speak, Rahele. Show me the truth."

With a wave of her hand, Rahele conjured a vision. The room fell silent as the image of shadowy figures sneaking into the palace under the cover of night appeared. The figures moved with a sinister grace, their faces obscured by darkness. As they drew closer, the sultan's eyes widened in recognition. The uniforms they wore were unmistakable—soldiers from Princess Mylitta's kingdom.

Sultan Harun's face darkened with a mix of anger and despair. Memories of Mylitta's visit flooded his mind. She had been a guest at the palace just a month prior, her presence unsettling and her behavior peculiar. Mylitta had always been near Prince Sarili, her eyes following him with an intensity that made everyone uncomfortable. She asked questions that seemed innocent but were laced with a strange obsession. "What does the prince like to do in his free time?" "Where does he go when he wants to be alone?" Her interest in Sarili was more than mere curiosity; it was an unhealthy fixation.

The sultan's voice trembled as he spoke, "Mylitta's kingdom is powerful. We cannot simply wage war against them. But to think she would stoop to this... to kidnap my son..."

Rahele stepped forward, her eyes blazing with determination. "Your Majesty, I understand the gravity of the situation. But I will not let this injustice stand. I will rescue the prince. Alone."

The Sultan looked up at her imploringly, "Go, Rahele. Bring my son back. Please."

Rahele embarked on her perilous journey, her heart heavy with the weight of her mission. She traveled through scorching deserts and dense forests, her resolve unwavering. Rahele knew the exact paths to take, the hidden trails that would lead her to Mylitta's kingdom without being spotted. Her knowledge of the land was unparalleled, allowing her to move swiftly and silently. Each step was a testament to her determination, her mind filled with thoughts of Prince Sarili and the injustice that had befallen him.