The Fall of a Royal House
In the golden age of a kingdom lost to the shifting sands of time, there lived an aged Sultan who ruled with wisdom and a gentle hand. He was blessed with two children: a son, the Crown Prince, and a daughter of such radiant beauty that she was often compared to the full moon rising over a desert oasis. When the old Sultan’s time came to depart this earthly realm, he left his vast treasures and his throne to his son.
However, youth is often synonymous with folly. The young Sultan, now the master of endless gold and ivory, did not possess his father’s restraint. Within a few short years, the royal coffers were drained by extravagance, and the once-mighty palace began to echo with the silence of poverty. One evening, clutching his sister’s hand, the young man whispered with a heavy heart, "My dear sister, I have squandered our father’s legacy. If the people discover our destitution, we shall be the targets of scorn. We cannot look them in the eye. It is better that we leave this land in the veil of night before our shame is laid bare."
With heavy hearts, they gathered what little remained of their personal belongings and slipped through the palace gates under the cover of a moonless sky.
The Curse of the Thirsty Prince
They wandered for days across a limitless, scorched plain where the horizon shimmered with heat. Fatigue gnawed at their bones, and their throats became as parched as the cracked earth beneath them. Just as the young Sultan felt his strength failing, he spotted a shimmering pool of water in the distance.
"Sister," he gasped, his voice a mere rasp, "I cannot take another step without a drop of water. My soul is parched."
The sister, sensing an unnatural aura surrounding the still water, warned him, "Wait, my brother! Who knows if this is true water or a snare of the jinn? We have endured much; let us endure a little longer until we find a pure spring."
But the brother’s thirst was a madness. "I cannot wait! To stay here is to die." He rushed to the bank and drank deeply. As the last drop touched his throat, a terrifying transformation occurred. His human form withered, his limbs lengthened into slender legs, and fur sprouted where silk once lay. In the blink of an eye, the young Sultan had been turned into a golden-eyed stag—an Ayal (Deer).
The sister wept, her cries echoing across the empty plain. But she knew she could not abandon him. Together, the girl and the enchanted deer continued their journey until they reached a lush grove centered around a towering, ancient tree and a bubbling, crystal-clear spring.
The Princess in the Emerald Tower
They decided to make this grove their sanctuary. Fearing for her safety, the deer-brother spoke to her in a voice that was now a soft, melodic hum: "Climb the tree, sister. Stay in the high branches where the wild beasts cannot reach you. I shall roam the forest and bring us sustenance."
Day after day, the enchanted deer used his newfound speed to hunt small game, which the sister would cook over a small fire hidden in the heights of the tree. They lived in this bittersweet harmony for weeks.
One evening, the King of this new land sent his royal grooms to water the finest stallions at that very spring. As the horses approached the stone trough, they suddenly reared back, neighing in terror. The grooms were baffled. They emptied the trough, thinking the water was fouled, and refilled it with fresh liquid. Yet, the horses refused to drink, their eyes fixed on the reflection in the water.
When the King heard of this, he suspected a curse. "Is the water stagnant?" he asked.
"No, Majesty," the grooms replied. "It is as clear as a diamond, yet the horses act as if they see a ghost."
The King rode to the spring himself. Looking into the water, he didn't see a ghost, but the reflection of a woman so beautiful she seemed woven from starlight. He looked up and saw her perched among the leaves.
"Are you an angel or a jinn?" the King cried out, mesmerized.
"I am neither," she replied softly. "I am but a mortal woman."
The King, struck by love, pleaded with her to descend, but remembering her brother’s warning, she refused. Enraged by her stubbornness and desperate to claim her, the King ordered his men to fell the tree. All day, the sound of axes and saws rang through the forest. By sunset, the trunk was nearly severed. But as darkness fell, the woodsmen retired, intending to finish the task at dawn.
When the enchanted deer returned and saw the wounded tree, he wept. He approached the trunk and began to lick the gashes with his tongue. By a miracle of his enchanted nature, the wood knit back together, becoming thicker and stronger than before. This continued for two days, frustrating the King’s men, until the King sought the help of a wicked old sorceress.
The Sorceress and the Trap
The witch smiled, her eyes gleaming with malice. "I shall bring her down without a single axe-stroke," she hissed.
The next day, the witch set a tripod over a fire near the tree. She acted as if she were blind, fumbling with a pot. She turned the pot upside down and began pouring water over the base, letting it spill uselessly onto the dirt.
Watching from above, the girl’s heart softened. "Mother! You have the pot upside down! The water is wasting!"
"Oh, dear child," the witch whined, "where are you? My eyes are clouded. I have brought these old rags to wash, but I cannot see the rim. Come down and help an old woman, for the sake of the Almighty."
The girl remembered her brother's warning and stayed silent. The next day, the witch returned and tried to sift flour, but she poured ashes into the sieve instead. Again, the girl corrected her, and again the witch begged for help, but the girl remained in the branches.
On the third day, the witch brought a young lamb. She took a knife and began to press the blunt handle against the lamb’s throat, making the creature bleat in agony. The sight of the poor animal’s suffering was too much for the girl’s compassionate heart. Forgetting all warnings, she scrambled down the tree to save the lamb.
The moment her feet touched the grass, the King—who was hiding nearby—sprang forth and caught her. He whisked her away to his palace to be his Queen. She agreed, but only on one condition: that her "brother," the golden deer, be allowed to live with them in the palace forever.
The Treachery of the Slave-Girl
In the King's palace, there lived a dark-hearted servant woman who had hoped to catch the King’s eye herself. She burned with a jealous fire. She watched as the King and his new Queen lived in bliss, always accompanied by the silent, watchful deer.
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One afternoon, while the Queen was walking by the great palace lake, the servant woman crept up behind her. With a violent shove, she pushed the Queen into the deep, dark waters. As the Queen sank, a monstrously large fish opened its maw and swallowed her whole. The servant woman then donned the Queen's royal robes and took her place, relying on the dim evening light and a feigned illness to hide her identity from the King.
When the King returned, he found "his wife" looking haggard and different. "The sun has scorched my face," she lied. The King, in his devotion, believed her.
However, the deer knew. He stood by the "Queen's" bed and tapped her with his hoof, whispering a rhyme only the siblings knew: "These are the bones of the brother-by-law, and these are the bones of the sister."
The imposter grew terrified that the deer would expose her. She pretended to fall deathly ill and bribed the royal physicians to tell the King that only one cure existed: "The King must slaughter the golden deer and serve his heart to the Queen."
The King was heartbroken. "He is your brother!" he cried.
"If I die, he is lost anyway," the false Queen hissed. "Better he dies so I may live."
The Miracle of the Lake
The King reluctantly ordered the knives to be sharpened. The poor deer, sensing his end, begged for one last visit to the garden lake. He stood at the water's edge and cried out three times:
"The knives are sharpened, the water is boiling! Help me, sister, help me!"
From the depths of the lake, inside the belly of the great fish, a voice answered:
"Here I am, in the belly of the fish. In my hand is a golden cup, on my feet are silver shoes, and in my arms is a tiny prince!"
Unbeknownst to all, the Queen had given birth to a son while trapped inside the magical fish. The King, who had followed the deer in secret, heard this miraculous exchange. He immediately ordered the lake to be drained. Within minutes, the great fish was captured and its belly carefully opened.
Out stepped the true Queen, more radiant than ever, holding a golden cup, wearing silver shoes, and cradling a beautiful infant prince. As she stepped onto the grass, the golden deer licked the remnants of the enchanted fish's blood from the ground. In an explosion of light, the spell was broken. The deer vanished, and in its place stood the young Sultan, restored to his human form.
Justice and Joy
The King’s joy was boundless. He ordered the treacherous servant woman to be brought before him. "Choose your fate," he commanded. "Forty swords or forty horses?"
Thinking the horses were a gift for escape, she cried, "Swords are for enemies! Give me the forty horses to ride!"
The King nodded grimly. The woman was tied to the tails of forty wild stallions, which were then set loose, dragging her evil to the ends of the earth.
The palace was filled with a double celebration. The King and his Queen renewed their vows, and the restored Prince found a bride among the noble ladies of the court. For forty days and forty nights, the kingdom feasted. They ate, they drank, and they reached their hearts' desires.
Keywords: Arabic Folklore, Enchanted Deer, Sultan’s Daughter, Magic Lake, Transformation Story, Ancient Legends, Middle Eastern Fairy Tale, Justice and Treachery.
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