Alistar Făt-Frumos

It seems this happened once upon a time, for if it hadn’t, people wouldn’t be telling the tale.

Not in the sky, but on the earth, in a certain valley, in a village, there once lived an old man and an old woman, so old that they could barely drag along the weight of their years. In those days, their only son, Alistar, was their hope and support. The old couple were living out their final days, and before bidding farewell to the world, they called their son to them and gave him their last instructions:

"Alistar, dear, when you see us off on our final journey, look for a green stalk in the bundle of basil behind the beam and sniff it three times."

"Very well, father and mother, I will do as you say," replied Alistar. With lamentations and tears, he accompanied his parents to their graves, and when he returned home, he found the green stalk in the bundle of basil. It was smaller and thinner than a needle, but as soon as Alistar sniffed it once, he felt his strength triple. He sniffed it a second time, and his strength increased again. When he touched it a third time, mighty blood surged through his veins. Whatever the young man thought of, it immediately came to life and appeared before his eyes. Alistar worked tirelessly, yet he could not exchange his poverty for prosperity. One fine day, he decided to set out into the wide world, hoping that fortune might smile upon him.

He walked and walked until he came upon a grand mansion. How could he have known whose mansion it was or who it belonged to? Delighted to finally find shelter, he knocked on the gate and immediately found himself face to face with a terrifying dragon-serpent.

"Good day," said the traveler.

"Hello," replied the dragon.

"Would you happen to have any work in your domain, even in the yard?" asked Alistar.

"Indeed, I am in need of a servant. Come in."

Alistar entered the yard and saw many barns and stables—everything befitting a wealthy lord. The dragon immediately began instructing him on his duties, all the while thinking to himself: "The sooner evening comes, the sooner I can finish off this traveler and eat him." As they worked, dusk crept in unnoticed. From somewhere in the fields, the dragon’s son returned. They sat down to eat, and soon everyone went to sleep in different corners. The dragon made a bed for his son on one bench, covering him with a red blanket and placing a lit candle beside him. Alistar, however, was laid on another bench, covered with a black blanket as dark as the earth itself, with no candle. The servant began to wonder: "What is this monster-dragon plotting? Clearly, he’s up to no good." Alistar couldn’t sleep, his mind racing, while the serpents fell asleep and began snoring so loudly that the windows rattled. The young man tossed and turned but couldn’t close his eyes for a moment. "I’ll lie down in the dragon’s son’s place," he decided. And having made up his mind, he quickly got up, approached the dragon’s son’s bench, gently lifted him—he didn’t stir—and laid him on his own bench, covering him with the black blanket. Then he lay down in the dragon’s son’s place and immediately fell asleep.

The night hid the silver face of the moon behind the hilltops, as if wishing the serpents’ sleep to be deeper and more peaceful. But when the moon had fully set behind the hill, the old dragon awoke from his slumber. He grabbed a heavy dagger and went out into the yard. There was the bench where he had laid Alistar. The dagger swung through the air, and *thwack! thwack!*—the head of the sleeper was severed. The dragon did not know he had killed his own son. How could he, in such darkness—you couldn’t see a thing. Then the old dragon lit a blazing fire in the stove and kept adding wood, hoping to roast his prey before dawn. Alistar, meanwhile, was petrified by the realization of what had almost happened to him. He sprang to his feet, grabbed the candle, and—*whoosh! whoosh!*—tried to blow it out, but it wouldn’t extinguish. He threw it to the ground, but he couldn’t throw it away or put it out. The candle clung to his hand, burning brighter and brighter. Seeing this, Alistar ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran and hurried, the candle lighting his path. When the dragon came to his senses and looked into the distance, he saw not a falling star but a running candle. Enraged, he shouted:

"Hey, my candle, my candle,
Don’t get lost in the night,
Return to the house—
Light the guest bright!"

But the candle kept moving farther away. Then the old dragon turned to the house and roared in fury:

"Hey, dragon’s son,
Shake off the chains of heavy sleep,
And run, run quickly
After your candle!"

But how could his son answer, when he was dead? The dragon searched for him in the house, in the yard, called for him everywhere, but his efforts were in vain. "First, I’ll skewer Alistar, and then I’ll bring back the candle," muttered the dragon. Grabbing the corpse, he headed to the stove. As he hurried, he suddenly recognized the face of his own son by the stove. At last, he realized what he had done. Seizing the dagger, he chased after the candle and Alistar. He spun like a whirlwind, and wherever he stepped, rocks crumbled with a roar, trees were uprooted, and the earth sank into an abyss. He drew closer and closer to the fugitive, like a storm cloud descending upon Alistar. The young man, however, managed to reach a large, wide, and deep river. He plunged in and swam across. By the time Alistar reached the other shore, the dragon was just approaching the water. He stopped, unable to swim, and began to curse Alistar:

"Hey, dog Alistar,
You stole my candle,
You killed my son!"

From the other shore, Alistar replied:

"Quiet, dragon’s dog!
If you speak of evil,
Worse will befall you!"

The dragon turned back, while Alistar walked and walked along an untrodden path adorned with flowers and tall grass. As he walked, he occasionally glanced at the candle, trying to blow it out—but it only burned brighter. He tried to extinguish the flame with his hand—it glowed without burning. He brought it closer to himself—his shirt didn’t catch fire. Such was the flame of that candle: it didn’t burn, didn’t ignite, but it shone brightly.

Alistar placed the candle in his bag and continued on his way.

Walking along paths and trails, Alistar eventually reached the mansion of a certain lord, where he found shelter. The lord, convinced that he was a hardworking and clever young man, made him the head of the stable hands. He gave him a small room, like the other servants, and the young man began to live and work there. Everything went smoothly until one of the stable hands, an evil man, came to the lord with these words:

"You probably don’t know, my lord, what Alistar boasted about the other day?"

"If you tell me, I’ll know."

"He said… uh… that if you wished, he could bring you the dragon’s horse."

"The dragon’s horse? Call him to me…"

The stable hand ran off, beside himself with joy, found Alistar, and brought him before the lord.

"Bring me the dragon’s horse. If you don’t, your head will be where your heels are now."

Alistar had no choice. He bowed low to the lord and set off on his journey. He walked and walked all day, covering most of the distance, and around midnight he reached the dragon’s mansion. Quietly, he approached the stable, went inside, and as soon as the horse sensed him, it neighed loudly three times. Soon after, he heard: *thump! thump! thump!*—the dragon was running to the stable with fire in his hand. Alistar crouched, spun around three times on one heel, turned into a fly, and flew under the stable roof.

The dragon searched every corner, rummaged under the manger, scoured the stable inside and out—but found no one. Reassured, he went back to the house. Alistar flew out from under the roof and tried to grab the horse, but it was no use—the stubborn horse wouldn’t let itself be caught and neighed even louder.

Again, the dragon came running with fire, looked around, searched every corner of the stable inside and out, and again—no sign of life.

"Ugh, may the dogs devour you, cursed horse! Why do you neigh for no reason and keep me from sleeping?" the dragon raged. He grabbed a huge club that was lying nearby and began to beat the poor horse’s ribs.

"Try neighing again—if I come back, I’ll skin you alive."

The dragon went back to his chambers, and when silence fell, Alistar flew out from under the stable roof again, turned back into a man, approached the horse—which no longer neighed—led it out into the yard, saddled it, and… the dragon in the house heard the horse and Alistar galloping away.

Furious, he gave chase at full speed. Alistar, the brave lad, urged the horse on, but the monstrous dragon was close behind. Just as Alistar managed to swim across the great river, the dragon reached the shore. Seeing the horse with Alistar already climbing the opposite bank, the monster shouted with all his might:

"Hey, dog Alistar!
You stole my candle,
You killed my son,
You took my good horse!"

Alistar replied:

"Quiet, dragon’s dog!
If you speak of evil,
You’ll lose your head too!"

The dragon turned back, biting his hands in frustration and rage. Alistar, meanwhile, flew like the wind back to his master’s domain. At the threshold, he unharnessed the horse and handed it over to the lord, who was so pleased and delighted, it was as if he had caught God himself by the beard.
But it has long been known that the greyhound lies in wait for the hare, the kite soars above the gopher, and evil drives good out of the world.

Alistar found no peace, and once again the stableman, the informer, went to the master and declared:

"Master, you are rich, powerful, and wise, but what goes on around you and what is happening does not reach your ears."

"What are you trying to say? Speak more clearly."

"The other day, Alistar boasted: if you wish, he will bring you the dragon's cap."

"Call him here."

Alistar was summoned, and the master commanded him:

"Bring me the dragon's cap, or your head will be where your feet are now."

Alistar remained silent and set off on his journey once more, for he knew that if he did not leave immediately, the master would become so enraged that he would forget even where he came from.

He walked and walked, and as he approached the dragon's lair, he saw above him dark and menacing clouds. A terrible storm arose, and a rain poured down like none he had ever seen before or since. Above, thunder and lightning tore through the clouds, while below, the waters scarred the earth.

But the brave youth pressed on through the hurricane and the rain, and near the dragon's lair, he spun around three times, turned into a cat, and began to meow, begging to be let into the house. The dragon's wife called to her husband:

"Get up, wake up, go open the door, or the rain will drown the poor cat!"

The dragon rose reluctantly, but as soon as he opened the door, the cat—swish!—slipped inside and darted toward the stove. The dragon returned, looked into the cat's eyes, and shouted:

"This is Alistar! Aha, I've finally caught you!"

"What's wrong with you, husband? Have you lost your mind? You wouldn't think of killing such a beautiful cat, would you?"

"I recognize him by his eyes. This is Alistar, turned into a cat."

"Lie down and get this nonsense out of your head."

When the dragon fell asleep, the cat crept up to him quietly, as only cats can, and tried to pull the cap from under his head. She tugged and tugged but couldn't move it. Then the cat turned back into a man, but accidentally brushed against the dragon, who woke instantly and grabbed him.

"I told you this was Alistar. Get up, dragoness, stoke the stove; tonight we have something to roast for dinner."

The dragoness stoked the stove, and then they examined Alistar and saw that he was so thin—skin and bones.

"Hmm, there's nothing here to roast," said the dragon. "Put out the fire; we'll fatten him up first."

And so they began to feed him with flatbreads made from the finest grain, nuts, and sweet milk. Alistar grew healthier and stronger, and after a month, he became so fat that only slits remained where his eyes had been.

"Now is the perfect time to put him on the spit," the dragon rejoiced. "Dragoness, stoke the fire in the copper stove, and I'll go call the guests."

No sooner said than done. The dragoness stoked the copper stove, heated it until it glowed red, placed a shovel on the hearth, called Alistar, and said to him:

"Step onto the shovel, climb into the stove!"

Alistar stepped onto the shovel with his feet.

"Lie down!" the dragoness shouted at him.

Alistar then sat on the edge of the shovel, dangling his legs.

"Ugh, you fool, you don't even know how to lie on a shovel."

"How would I know? My eyes have never seen a shovel or a stove in my life. Show me how to lie down."

"Get down!" the dragoness yelled, climbed onto the shovel, lay on her back, stretched out her legs, and placed her arms at her sides. That was all Alistar needed. As soon as the dragoness settled comfortably, he grabbed the shovel and, in an instant, hurled her deep into the stove, then—slam!—shut the door tightly.

Alistar snatched the dragon's cap and headed home. He walked along, humming to himself, while the dragon, pleased with himself, returned home with his guests, seated them at the table, and headed to the copper stove. When he opened the door and saw the dragoness, he nearly had a stroke. He grabbed a dagger and chased after Alistar. He raced with the speed of lightning, sparks flying from his eyes, steam pouring from his nostrils, smoke billowing from his ears, and wherever he stepped, mountains crumbled into the abyss.

By the time the dragon reached the river, Alistar was already disappearing into the distance. Enraged...
The dragon shouted:

"Hey, hey, Alistar, you dog! Was it you who stole the candle, deprived me of my good horse, killed my son, carried away the treasure, and baked a dragon in the oven?" Alistar turned around and replied:

"Quiet, you dragon's dog! If you keep speaking of evil, you'll lose your head too!"

Then he slowly made his way to the master's house. He gave the treasure to the master, but before he could rest from his journey, the master called him again:

"You brought me the horse, you brought me the treasure, but now I want the dragon himself."

Before setting off, Alistar found an axe, a saw, a chisel, a scraper, and some plugs in the master's yard, put them all in a sack, and set off. Near the dragon's house, he transformed into an old man with a beard down to his knees and a gray head. When he approached the dragon's gates, he began calling out to people:

"Honorable hosts and noble people, whoever needs barrels, come to me. I make casks and barrels for wine, and I have large barrels too."

When the dragon heard this, he called him into his yard, and they agreed that the cooper would make him several new barrels and repair the rest. The master began his work, and in a few days, he crafted such an oak barrel that it was impossible to take one's eyes off it. The dragon's heart leaped with joy when he saw the barrels that came from the master's hands.

"Well, now my barrels won't leak," he said to the cooper.

"They won't leak if you help me with something, for I am old, my eyesight is poor, and I cannot see all the holes to plug them with reeds."

"What should I do, old man?"

"Climb into this barrel and inspect it: see if there are any gaps between the staves."

The dragon climbed into the barrel, examined all the staves from the first hoop to the last, but found no gaps.

"No, old man, the staves fit together perfectly—they are so well laid and planed."

"Wait, now I'll attach the bottom. See how well it fits."

Alistar attached one bottom, then the other.

"Can you see anything?"

"Not a single hole."

"Now puff yourself up, use your strength, and let's see how sturdy the barrel is."

The dragon puffed himself up, straining the barrel.

"Harder!" shouted the master.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh..." came from the barrel.

"Puff yourself up as much as you can, use all your strength!"

Not a single hoop trembled, not a single stave shifted in the barrel. But the dragon cried out:

"I can't do it anymore!"

"Then take the barrel and be well."

The dragon realized he had fallen into Alistar's hands, but he couldn't get out of the barrel. Alistar rolled the barrel, and inside, like a squirrel in a wheel, the dragon spun, banging his sides and head against the bottom. Alistar rolled the dragon all the way to the threshold of the master's house.

When the master heard that Alistar had returned, he came out into the yard, excited and amazed, for though he had heard of dragons, he had never seen one.

"Alistar, quickly knock out the bottom so I can take a look."

"No, master, if I open the barrel, he'll kill us all."

"Then make a hole—I can't wait to see him, even with one eye."

Alistar took a drill, made a hole, and as soon as the master put his eye to it, the dragon sucked in the air, pulling the master into the hole like a thread, leaving no trace of him.

"Here you go," said Alistar, "you wanted the dragon, and you met your death."

Alistar lifted the barrel and threw it onto a pile of firewood he found in the yard, lit it, and the dragon and the master burned up, leaving no ashes behind. Finally, Alistar was rid of the dragon and the master, and exhausted, he went to his little room to rest. As soon as he opened the door, the candle that had been burning all this time suddenly swayed from side to side, flared up brightly, and, as if in a fairy tale, turned into a young girl, so beautiful that one could stand and look at her all day.

"Tell me, dear, who are you and why do you suffer so: you don't walk, you don't speak, you just burn all the time, surely not knowing why yourself."

"Dear Alistar Fat-Frumos, my suffering has ended now. You freed me from it by killing the hateful dragon-dog."

And the girl began to tell how the dragon had kidnapped her, wanting to make her his son's wife, but she resisted, and then the dragon cursed her: as long as he lived, she would be a candle, burning endlessly but warming no one and lighting nothing.

"And so it would have been for many years, if not for you, and if you had not broken the dragon's spell."

Alistar embraced her, kissed her, called all the people from the surrounding area, and they held a wedding, and what a wedding it was!

Many people gathered there—they feasted and celebrated, and I was among them, eating and drinking, I don't remember how much. Maybe I would still be celebrating with them today if I didn't have to tell you this tale about what happened to Alistar Fat-Frumos.

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Alistar Făt-Frumos

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