The Youngest of the Three

The Youngest of the Three

Long ago, in a mountain kingdom far away, there lived a king with three sons. The two elder princes considered themselves seasoned warriors, while everyone still called the youngest a boy, though he had long since grown up. He had sharp eyes, a kind heart, and an astonishing patience. One year the king became very ill. Doctors, healers, and wise people came to the palace, but none could restore his strength. At last an old physician sat silently beside the king’s bed and said, “There is one hope. In a distant garden grows a tree that bears the Apple of Life once each year. Whoever tastes it regains strength.” “But giants guard that garden,” the king sighed. “They take the apple on the very night it ripens.” The eldest son stepped forward at once. “I will go.” He reached the far garden, settled beneath the tree, and promised himself that he would not take his eyes from it. But in the night such heavy sleep fell over him that he slept until morning. When he woke, the branch was bare. The following year the middle brother went. The same thing happened to him. In the third year the youngest son said, “Father, let me try.” The king shook his head. “Your brothers are stronger and more experienced. Both came back empty-handed.” “Perhaps strength is not the only thing needed,” the young man answered. “I want to try.” At last the king agreed. The youngest prince arrived at the enchanted garden just as the apple began to glow with golden light. That night a heavy drowsiness crept over him too. But he took a handful of sour berries from his bag, crushed them between his palms, breathed in their sharp scent, and walked around the tree, counting his steps and humming quietly to stay awake. At midnight thunder rolled. A giant appeared over the hill and reached for the tree. “Stop!” cried the prince. The giant stared. No one had ever met him awake before. The prince loosed an arrow, not at the giant, but into the earth just before his feet. Startled, the giant stepped back, stumbled over a root, and fled into the darkness. The prince picked the Apple of Life and carried it to his father. After the king ate a few slices, color returned to his cheeks and clarity to his eyes. Within days, he was walking in the palace garden again. Everyone rejoiced, but the youngest prince did not forget the giant. “I do not want revenge,” he told his brothers. “But I would like to learn why he hides beneath the earth and where his power comes from.” His brothers agreed to go with him. The giant’s tracks led to a deep ravine. A dark chasm opened below, breathing warm air. The eldest brother tried to descend on a rope, but within minutes he called, “Pull me back! It is terrible down there!” The middle brother lasted a little longer, then returned as well. Then the youngest tied the rope around himself. “Lower me, even if I become afraid. Pull me up only when I tug the rope three times.” Below, he found a strange underground country. Three stone palaces stood there. At the first palace, a girl sat sewing with a silver needle. Beside her, in a golden bowl, a golden cat and a golden mouse played together. “How did you get here?” she asked in surprise. “This palace belongs to a giant. He keeps me here and will not let me go home.” “Then let us leave together,” said the prince. He did not wake the giant to fight him. Instead, he found the keys, opened the locked doors, and led the girl out. The giant woke too late; a magical bolt had already shut him safely inside. At the second palace, the prince freed another girl. In her golden bowl played a golden hen and a golden weasel. At the third palace he found the youngest sister. A golden hound and a golden fox raced in circles before her. “You are the one who drove the giant away from the Apple of Life,” she said when she saw him. “He returned here furious and ordered every exit locked.” The prince freed her too. In the stable they found three remarkable horses: one black, one red, and one white. The youngest girl gave the prince a single hair from each horse’s mane. “Keep these,” she said. “When you are in real need, cast a hair into a fire and call the horse.” When they reached the rope, the prince sent the eldest girl up first, then the middle sister, and finally the youngest. Before she went, she whispered, “I fear your brothers may envy you and fail to lower the rope again.” “They are my brothers,” he said. “I must trust them.” Sadly, she was right. When the brothers saw the three freed sisters and learned that the youngest had chosen their younger brother, they were bitter. “Everything good goes to him,” one muttered. They left without lowering the rope. For a long time the youngest prince sat in the dark. Then he remembered the youngest girl’s tale of enchanted rams that appeared on a certain night and could show a way back to the upper world. In his worry, he chose the wrong order and found himself not among people, but in the Land of Darkness. There a lonely old woman took him in. “Be a son to me,” she said, “and I will be your mother until you find your way home.” The prince asked for water. The old woman shook her head sadly. “Water is our trouble. A great snake has blocked the spring and allows no one near it.” The prince went to the spring. The snake lay across the rocky passage, hissing angrily. “Why do you keep the water only for yourself?” asked the prince. “Because I can,” said the snake. The prince drew the Lightning Sword he had found in the underground palace and struck it against the rock. The flash filled the ravine so brightly that the snake fled into its cave. The prince rolled great stones across the entrance, and water ran freely again. That day everyone in the Land of Darkness drank their fill for the first time in a long while. Yet the country remained dark. The old woman told him that a huge eagle lived high on the mountain. She had lost several nests of chicks and, believing people were to blame, had spread her wings across the path of sunlight. The prince climbed to her nest and saw another snake creeping toward the chicks. With the Lightning Sword, he drove it away. When the eagle returned, her chicks chirped, “Do not be angry! This man saved us!” The eagle bowed her head. “Ask for a reward.” “Carry me to the upper world,” said the prince. “The way is long, but I will do it.” He thanked the old woman for her kindness and climbed onto the eagle’s back. They flew through darkness for a long, long time until a thin golden line appeared ahead. When the eagle carried him into the world of people, sunlight reached the lower country too. The prince returned to his father’s city, but did not go straight to the palace. First he wanted to learn what had happened without him. He heard that his elder brothers had claimed they were the ones who freed the three sisters. A grand celebration was being planned, but the youngest sister kept postponing her engagement. “I will agree only when someone brings me the golden cat and mouse that play in a golden bowl,” she said. No one could do it. The prince found work with a local jeweler. That night he cast the black horse’s hair into the fire. The horse appeared, carrying the magical bowl with its golden cat and mouse. The next day the girl asked for the golden hen and weasel. The prince called the red horse. On the third day she asked for the golden hound and fox. The white horse came. Then the girl knew that her true rescuer had returned. The whole court gathered in the square. The youngest prince stepped forward without disguise. His elder brothers went pale. “Tell the truth yourselves,” he said. “I wish you no harm. But another person’s good deeds do not become yours simply because you claim them.” The brothers stood silent, then admitted their envy and asked forgiveness. The king looked long at his sons. “Strength without honor is worth nothing,” he said. “And true bravery is not only defeating an enemy. It is refusing to become like one.” The elder brothers lost the right to boast about someone else’s courage, but they remained in the family and, over time, earned trust through their own actions. The youngest prince married the girl he had loved in the underground palace. Her sisters chose their own futures as well. And for many years, the three enchanted horses answered whenever someone in the kingdom truly needed swift help. People still told their children that the youngest is not always the weakest, the eldest is not always the wisest, and the path upward sometimes begins exactly where it seems that no road remains.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨