folktale week 2023!

DAY I: LOST

Once upon a time, there were two sisters — one with hair dark as night, and one bright as the sun. Every Saturday morning, they got up as early as they could to go to the market and sell the blankets their mother wove and the wooden trinkets their father carved. One winter's day, they stayed in town too late and by the time they were on the road home, the sun had gone down. Halfway through the woods, they realized they didn't recognise anything around them and were forced to admit that they were lost.

Their first night in the woods was cold and terrifying, with strange noises coming from behind every tree. But at the end of the next day, the girls found a cabin, its windows shining with a warm yellow light...

DAY II: INK

Inside the cabin lived an old man with a beard as long as he was tall. He had warm quilts aplenty, and a pot of stew bubbling on the fire, and strange jars lining every wall of his home.

"What's in the jars?" asked the younger sister, the one with hair that shone like the Sun.

"That one's cardamom, and that one's sage, and that one's acorns," said the man, pointing to each jar in turn, "and that one is a very special ink I bought from a travelling peddler. No quill dipped in it will ever write a lie."

The girls clamored to use it, but the old man shook his head. "I spilled it once, years ago, and now there is only enough ink left to write one page, if that. You cannot waste it on trivial fortune-telling games. But! Take it with you on your journey, and perhaps it will help you find your way home."

DAY III: SEA

After the girls bade farewell to the man, they followed the river that flowed past his house until it reached the sea. The older girl wanted to ask a shopkeeper for directions, but the younger girl pulled away to look at the waves. Neither had ever seen the sea before, and as they stared, rapt, at the way it crashed on the rocks and the way the evening sun melted into it, a boat pulled up beside them.

Two women were on the boat — one with sun-browned skin and wind-blown hair, and one with barnacles covering her arms and hair like seaweed.

"Excuse me," said the older girl, the one with hair like the night, "Could you help us get home?"

"If the wind kicks up again, we can take you to the Forest up north," said the windblown woman. "It isn't far from the Farmlands, and perhaps the gnomes will lead you home if you can win their favor. But — you'll have to work while you're here."

"Anything!" said the younger girl, and her sister kicked her in the shin.

"Not anything," she said. "But we can make you a pot of our mother's famous soup for dinner."

And it was decided — they would reach the Forest over the sea.

DAY IV: SLEEP

That night, the girls laid side-by-side in a teeny bunk. The rocking of the waves kept them awake, and they both deeply regretted having so much soup at dinner. "Do you think they'll really take us home?" asked the younger girl.

The older girl didn't want to think about whether she'd made the wrong choice. "They must," she said. "They promised. Besides, they're heading north anyway, and they aren't taking us all the way." She paused. "Why wouldn't they?"

"They sounded scared," said the younger sister. "Didn't you think so? Like there was something bad in the woods."

The next morning, at the edge of the forest, the windblown woman handed each girl a stone with a hole in its center. "If you look through the hole, it will show you things as they truly are — it is dangerous in there, deep in the trees. But if you cover either side of the hole with your left thumb and pointer finger, like so, —" she moved her fingers to cover the hole, and disappeared. "— no one will be able to see you." She paused. "Stay safe on your journey home."

The older girl nodded her thanks, while the younger girl instantly started playing with her stone. And they began to walk into the forest.

DAY V: UNDERGROUND

It wasn't long before they came across the gnomes, who kindly offered to let the girls stay the night with them. "But we can't promise you directions," said one of them. "Lately, the Birch Queen doesn't seem to like us, or anyone, and she'll twist the trees around you until you can't ever find your way out."

"Is there a way to get past her?" asked the younger girl.

The gnomes shook their heads sadly. "Not that we know of," one of them said.

The older girl shushed her, and thanked the gnomes for their hospitality."We will find our way," she said uncertainly.

In their cozy underground warrens, lit by candles and blanketed with leaves, the gnomes laid a feast for the girls, as they did for any visitor. It was delicious, with four courses of all manner of roasted vegetables and meats, cakes and pies, soups and breads. But the older girl couldn't keep her mind off of what was to come.

When they left in the morning, the gnomes bestowed upon them a compass that would show the way north no matter what tricks the Queen pulled. "May it help you on your journey," they said as they watched the girls go, certain that they would never see them again.

DAY VI: ILLUSION

The sisters wandered through the forest, consulting the compass whenever it seemed as though the trees were twisting around and trapping them forever. "How can we possibly be going in circles if we're only going north?" asked the older sister. The younger one had no answer.

The Birch Queen, however, did. When the older sister looked up from her compass, there she stood, flanked by towering trees. "What are you doing in my forest?" she asked.

"We are trying to get home," began the older sister, and the younger girl interrupted her.

"We have brought you gifts in exchange for safe passage to the Farmlands! Will you take what we have to offer, and promise to let us leave the forest without issue?"

"What have you brought me, then?"

The older girl opened her bag, hoping something could help. "We have ink that only writes the truth," she said, and held up the jar to the light.

The Birch Queen frowned at the paltry amount inside. "You'll have to offer more than that if you'd like to make it home."

The older girl frantically flipped through her bag. She was ready to give away her hagstone or the compass when her younger sister gasped behind her. “You’re a fox!” she exclaimed, holding a hagstone to her eye. “You aren’t the Birch Queen at all!”

The Queen lunged at the younger girl, and the older one looked through her hagstone, revealing the truth — a fox casting a clever illusion. “Wait!” she said. “What about — the warmest blanket one can offer?” she said. “It will make your den as grand as a castle. Or your castle as cozy as a den.” She pulled the last blanket from her bag, one that hadn’t sold at the market and was too small to give the women on the boat. It was the perfect size for a fox, and a dull green that would complement red fur.

The fox crept up and sniffed the blanket warily. “And the ink, too?” she asked.

“Of course,” said the older girl. “Now, will you let us get home?”

DAY VII: FOUND

As the sisters walked on, the trees began to thin and the hazy light of dusk broke through over the slowly-emerging roof of their home. Their mother’s sheep grazing in the pasture, a slow swirl of smoke escaping the chimney — and their parents, standing in the yard nervously, waiting for their daughters to come home. They were four days late, after all.

The younger girl started running as soon as she passed the last tree, and her older sister wasn’t far behind. Their parents were waiting for them, arms outstretched. Inside, a pot of soup sat in the hearth and a loaf of bread waited on the table. Even the grouchy old cat seemed to be happy to see them again.

And all was well.