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Once upon a time there lived an emperor and an empress, both young and beautiful, but they had no children. One day a Moor came to the emperor and said, “Long life to you, illustrious emperor! I have heard that the empress cannot bear children, and I have brought some herbs that will make her conceive as soon as she drinks them.” The emperor took the herbs from the Moor and ordered that he be given a pair of imperial slippers and a suit of golden clothes so beautiful they dazzled the eye. Then he summoned the empress and gave her the herbs to boil and drink. The empress called the cook and handed her the herbs to boil, without telling her what they were for. Not knowing their power, the cook tasted the brew before taking it to the empress to drink. Before long the empress was with child. When the time came, both women gave birth to little boys, each lovelier than anything beautiful in this world, and they named one Dafin and the other Afin. One day the emperor went off to war. Leaving his son in his place, he put a great bunch of keys into his hand and said, “My son, you may enter all the rooms these keys unlock, but never set foot in the room that opens with the golden key, or it will go ill with you.” No sooner had the emperor left the city than his son went through all the rooms and saw a wealth of beautiful precious stones, yet none of them pleased him. At last he came to the room that opened with the golden key. He paused a moment and thought of his father’s command, but curiosity overcame him. He went inside and saw a spyglass. Looking through it, he beheld a palace made entirely of gold, so dazzling that one might sooner gaze at the sun than at its walls. Within sat Lady Chiralina, a young maiden, a flower of the garden, as lovely as a fairy. After gazing at her for a long time, he put the spyglass back in its place and went out with his eyes full of tears. Not long afterward the emperor returned victorious from the war, but instead of his son coming out to welcome him joyfully, only the empress appeared, and she told him their son was ill. The emperor understood at once what had caused the sickness. He summoned all the doctors and women healers in the world, but they all said that unless he gave his son Lady Chiralina for a wife, the young man would never recover. The emperor sent messenger after messenger to Lady Chiralina, but it was no use, for her father would not let her marry. When the emperor’s son heard all this, he resolved to go himself and ask her father for her hand. He told his sworn brother everything, and one day the two set out together and vanished from sight. They travelled through a summer’s day until evening and came to the mother of the North Wind. They knocked at her door, and a shrivelled old woman came out and asked what they wanted. They replied that they sought shelter until the next morning and wished to know which road would take them to Lady Chiralina’s kingdom. The old woman looked at them with pity and said, “I would gladly welcome you into my house, but I fear my son will come home and turn you both into blocks of ice. You had better go to my youngest sister. She may be able to lodge you and tell you the way to Lady Chiralina.” The emperor’s son went on and reached the mother of the Raging Wind. They left her house too and came at last to the mother of the Spring Wind. They knocked at her door, and a tall, young, beautiful woman came out. As soon as she saw the emperor’s son, she said, “Dear handsome lad, I know you have set out in search of Lady Chiralina, to take her for your wife. But you will never reach her kingdom without my son’s help. Stay here, then, but I must hide you very carefully, for if my son senses that I have people from the other realm in my house, he will kill you.” With these words she clapped her hands three times.

At once a golden bird with a diamond beak and emerald eyes sprang down from the stove, tucked both young men beneath its wings, and flew back up onto the stove. Before long there came a gentle rushing of wind, bringing the scent of roses and rosemary. The door opened of its own accord, and into the house stepped a handsome youth with long golden hair, silver wings, and a staff woven with every kind of herb and flower. As he entered, he said to his mother, “Mother, I smell someone from the other realm.” “Perhaps you do, my son, but what would anyone from the other realm be doing here?” The Wind grew calm and sat down at the table. After eating a bowl of sweet doe’s milk and drinking violet water from a marble vessel, he began to talk. Seeing him in good spirits, his mother said, “My son, tell me where Lady Chiralina’s kingdom lies, and how someone might win her for his wife.” “You have asked me a difficult question, Mother! Still, let it be. Lady Chiralina’s kingdom is ten years’ journey from here, but that journey can be made in the blink of an eye if someone goes into the black forest beside the river of pitch that hurls stones and fire up to the sky, and mounts the log of the Iele, which can carry him across the river. But whoever hears this and tells anyone shall turn to stone up to his knees. Once he reaches the kingdom, he must make a golden stag and hide inside it, so that he can enter the princess’s chamber and carry her away. Whoever hears this and tells anyone shall turn to stone up to his waist. After he has taken her for his wife, the mother of the North Wind, out of spite, will send a Jew with beautiful shirts finer than a spider’s web. Lady Chiralina will buy some, and unless they are sprinkled with a turtledove’s tears, she will die as soon as she puts one on. Whoever hears this and tells anyone shall turn entirely to stone.” While the Wind was telling all this, the emperor’s son had fallen asleep, but the cook’s son had stayed awake and heard every word. The next day, after the Wind had left home, the emperor’s son asked the Wind’s mother whether her son had told her anything. Afraid of turning to stone, she replied that she had learned nothing. Then the cook’s son and the emperor’s son set off again and travelled through the summer’s day until evening. Around sunset they heard a great clamour and a terrible roaring, and then they saw a broad river of burning pitch, hurling stones and flames high into the heavens. The emperor’s son took fright, but the cook’s son said, “Fear nothing. Come with me into this forest and do as I tell you.” When they reached the middle of the forest, he spotted the log of the Iele. They both climbed astride it, and when he spurred it three times, it turned into a carriage drawn by twelve fiery horses. In a moment it rose as high as the Raging Wind, then descended at the gates of Lady Chiralina’s palace. Once they had climbed down, the carriage became a log again, and they stood before a palace of sapphire stone with gates of cypress wood. At one of its windows stood Lady Chiralina, dressed in golden garments woven with pearls. As soon as she saw the emperor’s son, she fell so deeply in love with him that she became gravely ill and lay at death’s door. What did the poor emperor not try to save her! But all was in vain. At last an old woman came and said to him, “Illustrious emperor, may you live for many years! If you wish your daughter to recover, seek out the golden stag that sings like all the birds, and bring it into your house for just three days. Then you will see how well she becomes.” The emperor ordered the herald to proclaim this throughout his kingdom. Three days later the cook’s son struck the log three times, and it became a beautiful golden stag. He hid the emperor’s son inside it and took his stand before the palace. When the emperor saw the stag, he came down and asked the cook’s son whether it was for sale.

“It is not for sale, but for hire,” the cook’s son replied boldly. “Very well! What will you ask to let me have it for just three days?” “A thousand gold coins.” The bargain was struck, and the emperor took the stag into Lady Chiralina’s chamber, then went about his business. As soon as the stag found itself alone with Lady Chiralina, it began to sing a song of longing that would have made wood and stone weep. Lady Chiralina fell asleep, and the emperor’s son came out of the stag and kissed her forehead, then crept back inside. The next day Lady Chiralina told her women that she had twice dreamed a handsome youth had kissed her. One of the women, shrewder than the rest, advised her to pretend to sleep as soon as the stag began to sing, and to seize whoever kissed her the moment she felt his touch. When night came, the stag began a sorrowful song. Lady Chiralina pretended to sleep, and when the handsome youth came to kiss her, she caught him in her arms and said, “From now on you shall never escape me, for I have longed so much to have you!” They caressed one another like a pair of doves until daylight overtook them. Around noon the emperor came with the cook’s son to return the stag. Lady Chiralina began to weep and would not part with it. Then the cook’s son whispered to her, “Ask the emperor’s leave to accompany the stag beyond the city, for a carriage drawn by twelve fiery horses will be waiting for us there, and in it we shall go to the kingdom of your beloved, the handsome prince.” Lady Chiralina asked the emperor’s permission and received it. With a great retinue she escorted the stag beyond the city. There Afin struck its belly three times, and at once it turned into a carriage drawn by twelve fiery horses. Taking Lady Chiralina with one hand and Dafin with the other, he leapt inside, and they vanished from sight. They travelled from morning until evening, swift as the words of a tale that is soon told, until they emerged into the other realm and reached their own country. As soon as the emperor heard that his son was coming, he went out with a great company to meet him. Then he married him to Lady Chiralina and held an imperial wedding feast that lasted three days and three nights. One day Lady Chiralina was sitting at the palace window, looking out at the road, when a Jew came by selling shirts. She called him upstairs and bought two shirts finer than a spider’s web, then put one of them on. Before long she fell so gravely ill that she was close to death. Afin heard of the empress’s sickness and entered her chamber at midnight while she slept. He sprinkled her all over with a turtledove’s tears and went out again. But the guards at the door went to Emperor Dafin and accused Afin of kissing the empress. When the emperor heard this, he blazed with anger and ordered Afin’s head to be cut off. Yet when they reached the place of execution, Afin said to him, “May God grant you many years, Emperor! For the sake of all my brotherly love and devotion to you, I beg you to gather all the great boyars of your kingdom, for I have something of great importance to tell them. After that, you may order my head to be cut off.” The emperor commanded the imperial council to assemble, with Lady Chiralina present too. Afin was brought before them, and the emperor said, “Speak, you villain! Say what you have to say.” Then Afin began: “Once upon a time there was an emperor’s son who fell in love with an emperor’s daughter from the other realm. Unable to live without her, he set out with his sworn brother, resolved either to find her or to lose his life in the wilderness. After travelling the world far and wide, they came to the mother of the North Wind and begged her to show them the road to the princess they sought. The mother of the North Wind sent them to the mother of the Spring Wind, who gave them shelter and promised to question her son. She kept her word, for as soon as her son came home, she asked him, and he answered her thus: ‘Lady Chiralina’s kingdom is ten years’ journey from here, but the journey can be made in the blink of an eye if someone goes into the black forest beside the river of pitch that hurls stones and fire up to the sky. There he will find the log of the Iele, and he must mount it to cross the river. Once he reaches the kingdom, he must turn the log into a golden stag and hide inside it, so that he may enter Lady Chiralina’s chamber and carry her away. After he takes her for his wife, the Raging Wind’s sister, out of spite, will send a Jew with shirts finer than a spider’s web. Unless he knows to sprinkle them with a turtledove’s tears, she will die within three days of putting one on.’ After the Wind had told his mother all this, he bound her with an oath that if she repeated what she had heard, she would turn entirely to stone. The next day the emperor’s son asked the Wind’s mother whether she had learned anything from her son, but she, afraid of turning to stone, told him she had learned nothing. Yet the prince’s sworn brother had not slept that night and had heard everything. So, without revealing the secret to the emperor’s son, he went with him into the black forest. They mounted the log and crossed the river.” As soon as Afin had spoken these words, he turned to stone up to his knees. He began again and said, “When they reached Lady Chiralina’s palace, the sworn brother struck the log three times and turned it into a golden stag. He hid the emperor’s son inside it.” At these words Afin turned to stone up to his waist. The emperor and empress, seeing that Afin was innocent, began to weep and begged him to stop his story. But he would not. He went on, saying, “Not long after the emperor married Lady Chiralina, the empress bought two shirts from a Jew. She put on one of them and at once fell gravely ill. Afin, knowing the cause of her sickness, entered the empress’s chamber at midnight. Finding her asleep, he sprinkled her with a turtledove’s tears and saved her from death.” As soon as Afin finished his tale, he turned entirely to stone. Emperor Dafin and Lady Chiralina wept for three days and three nights. Then they took the stone body of their benefactor and set it in their chamber, so that they would always remember him. They lived on for some time, and a child was born to them. One morning Emperor Dafin entered the empress’s chamber and told her he had dreamed of a woman dressed in white, who had said that if he wished to bring his petrified brother back to life, he must kill their child and anoint the stone with its blood. The empress said that she too had dreamed the very same dream. So the two agreed, killed their child, and sprinkled the stone with its blood. It began to stir, then came fully back to life, and Afin said, “Ah, what a heavy sleep I have slept!” “Ah, brother,” the emperor replied, “you would have slept long indeed if we had not killed our child to sprinkle you with its blood.” Then Afin cut one of his fingers with a knife and let his blood fall upon the child, who came back to life in an instant. In his joy the emperor ordered great celebrations throughout the land. And I mounted a saddle, and told the tale to you.