The King's Son's Dream

The King's Son's Dream

Once there was a king with three sons. The two older boys already considered themselves nearly grown, while the youngest loved listening to stories at night, watching the stars, and remembering his dreams.

One evening the king told them:

“Tomorrow morning, do not hurry to forget what you dreamed. Each of you will tell me.”

The next day the eldest said:

“I dreamed that one day I would inherit the throne.”

The king nodded approvingly.

The middle son said:

“I dreamed I would become the kingdom’s chief adviser.”

The king smiled even more.

Then came the youngest.

“I dreamed I was washing my hands before a feast. My brothers held a golden basin, Mother offered me a towel, and you, Father, poured water from a golden pitcher.”

The hall became silent.

The king heard not a dream but an insult.

“I will serve you?” he cried. “You think too highly of yourself!”

“But it was only a dream. I did not order it to appear.”

The angry king would not listen and sent his youngest son away from the palace.

The prince walked for days. At first he was hurt, then frightened, and finally decided that if the road had begun, he must look forward.

In a dense forest he found a cave between two cliffs. The smell of cooked corn drifted from inside.

A large pot stood over the fire.

“Just one spoonful,” whispered the hungry prince.

One spoon became two, then three, and before he noticed he had eaten a good part of the meal.

Bells jingled near the entrance. An old shepherd entered, almost blind, holding the horns of a large goat while the herd followed.

“Who is there?”

The prince stepped out.

“Forgive me. I was hungry. I am a traveler with no home.”

The shepherd was quiet, then said:

“I do not begrudge you the corn. Next time, ask. If you wish, stay here and help me.”

So the prince cooked, cleaned the cave, and repaired baskets while the old man tended his goats.

One morning the shepherd said:

“Today you will take the herd. There are nine mountains. Graze on eight, but avoid the ninth. Mountain fairies live there. Long ago I ignored the warning, quarreled with them, and after that I almost lost my sight.”

The prince promised.

But from the eighth mountain the ninth looked close and beautiful.

“I will only look from a distance.”

One step became another.

Suddenly the fairies surrounded him.

“A stranger on our mountain!”

The prince knew force would solve nothing.

“I crossed your boundary. I admit it. But before we quarrel, let us have a contest. We will jump over that split tree trunk. If you win, I will leave and never return.”

The fairies agreed.

The prince wedged a small piece of wood between the split halves and jumped easily. When one fairy followed, he pulled the wedge free and the trunk gently caught the edge of her long cloak.

“Release our sister!”

“I will. I need no treasure. Help the old shepherd see clearly again.”

The eldest fairy gave him a fragrant mountain herb.

“Brew it in clean water and wash his eyes. Now keep your promise.”

The prince freed the cloak and returned.

After the shepherd used the herbal water, the world slowly became clear. First he saw the fire, then the prince’s face, then distant pines.

“I can see again! You took a foolish risk through curiosity, but corrected your mistake with a good deed.”

The next day the shepherd gave him keys to eight storerooms.

“Take anything needed for the household. Only do not open the ninth door.”

The prince laughed.

“Ninth places seem unlucky for me.”

Yet curiosity won again.

Behind the ninth door stood a golden horse. Beside it sat a golden hound, and a golden hen walked with tiny golden chicks.

“Are you real?”

“Entirely,” said the horse. “We have waited a very long time for someone to open this door.”

“Then come with me.”

The horse warned him that the old man would not want to release them at once.

“Take a small stone, a drop of water in a bottle, and a pair of scissors. They may help on the road.”

The prince did so. He covered the floor so the golden hooves would not ring on stone, placed the hen and chicks in a basket, took the hound, and rode away.

The shepherd noticed and followed on his great goat.

“Throw the stone!” called the horse.

The prince did. A high rocky ridge rose between them.

“Now the water!”

The drop touched the earth and became a broad stream.

When the shepherd approached again, the horse said:

“Throw the scissors into the grass.”

They rang against the ground, and a dense thorny hedge sprang up. The goat stopped.

The shepherd understood he could not catch them.

“Very well!” he called. “It seems the golden creatures chose you. But do not display gold carelessly. People sometimes see glitter before they see a heart.”

The prince thanked him.

In the next village he bought plain coverings for the horse and hound so they looked like ordinary traveling animals.

After a long journey he unexpectedly returned to his father’s kingdom.

A riding challenge had been announced. Behind the palace lay a ravine where a storm had damaged an old bridge. No one dared lead a horse across the narrow surviving path. The king promised a reward to anyone who crossed safely and showed the builders how to repair it.

“I will try,” said the unknown traveler.

People laughed at his ordinary-looking horse.

But the golden horse walked as lightly and precisely as if it knew every stone. The prince crossed, returned, and showed the builders where new beams could be fixed.

That night the plain coverings slipped off.

In the morning servants saw the golden horse, golden hound, and golden hen with her chicks.

“This is no ordinary traveler,” said the king. “Invite him to the great hall as an honored guest.”

By an old custom, water was brought for the guest to wash before the feast.

The eldest prince held one side of a golden basin. The middle prince held the other. The queen offered a towel.

The king himself lifted a golden pitcher and poured water over the traveler’s hands.

The youngest son froze.

It was exactly the scene from his dream.

“Father,” he said quietly. “Do you recognize my dream now?”

The king looked closely at him.

“Son...”

The queen embraced him first. His brothers put down the basin and rushed to him.

The king stood silent for a long moment.

“I punished you for something you did not choose. I heard an insult in your dream only because I was afraid of losing my importance.”

“I also learned not to chase every curiosity,” the prince smiled. “Though I admit it took more than one lesson.”

The king laughed, and the tension disappeared.

The golden horse received a spacious stable, the hound a cushion by the fire, and the hen and chicks a sunny garden.

But the prince valued something more than gold.

He remembered the old shepherd who fed a stranger, the fairies who accepted a peaceful bargain, and the dream that had not commanded the future but had reminded him that the meaning of an event is not always clear at once.

From then on, people in that kingdom said: do not become angry with a dream, and do not judge a person by a first impression. A road can change everything, and sometimes the one you sent away from your gate returns wiser, kinder, and very different from what you imagined.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨