Hayat and the keeper of the sandglass
Hayat stood and admired the oak tree. And then he heard a noise and rustling in the bushes:
“Where are these squirrels? It’s already morning and time to pick mushrooms and berries and they’ve disappeared. These are not squirrels, this is only a punishment for me. Why did I contract them? I’d be better contracting the hares. But no, I put my trust in these redhead squirrels. Break me thunder. Only troubles and misfortunes come to me from these squirrels.”
These words belonged to man, a century old, with a white beard. He was dressed in a green caftan, he had bunnies on his feet. The buttons of the caftan looked like strawberries. On his head, he wore a green cap with a yellow rim. The old man looked funny.
In his hands, he had a basket in which he collected strawberries in a meadow. Hayat could see that it was difficult to pick berries. The old man groaned as he bent to collect the berry. Sweat ran down from his cheeks.
“I’m a poor hundred-year-old old man picking berries alone without an assistant. There is no hope for squirrels, maybe someone will hurry to help me,” the old man wailed.
Hayat went out to the strawberry meadow and said quietly: “Hello, dear old man, let me help you in your business.”
“Sounded as if someone said something in my ear?” The old man began to look around and around.
“That my friend was me. My name is Hayat,” the young man answered more loudly.
“Why are you talking so quietly, young man? As if you’re embarrassed? You need to speak confidently when you propose a good deal,” answered the old man and continued. “Hello, Hayat resident of the Fiery Country, I’ve been waiting for you a long time, it’s been a week since you came to the forest and I’ve been waiting for your arrival.
A wonderful forest is a magical land, all travellers come to the evergreen oak, no matter what way they go, from the West, even from the East. The travellers seek an answer for the hidden questions under the crown of the oak, illuminated by the sun, in its roots, which covered the entire forest. Sooner or later they will find the answer. If you are here Hayat, then you will find the answer.”
Hayat stood in thoughtfulness. “How does he know, about my dream to win in the tournament? What is this, a guess?” Hayat shrugged his shoulders and said in the customary manner to address the elders of Fiery Country, “Venerable elder, let your years last, and your life will be filled with rivers of honey, may I help you?”
“Of course, help me collect these strawberries. I’m old, my back is stiff. These redhead squirrels ran away somewhere. I wish fleas attacked them. I believed the stories that they are the best collectors of nuts, berries and mushrooms in the forest. They showed me their own diplomas, records of harvesting nuts, but they have no discipline and none came to work this morning.”
The berries
Hayat took the basket from the old man and began to collect strawberries. He worked hard and the old man was sitting on the stump, watching him silently. An hour later the whole meadow was emptied and the ripe strawberries gathered filled the basket. They took the berries together to the old man’s house.
The house stood on the North side of the evergreen oak. The house looks to be plain. When they approached it, the door opened hospitably by its own. The house smelled of grass, mushrooms and berries. All the furniture was blue, there was a golden rocking chair, a large boiler hung above the hearth with unknown liquid boiling, yellow smoke rose above it.
Hayat saw many amazing and incomprehensible things, he opened his mouth to ask the old man: “What are these things for?” But the old man did not have time, gave him a bucket and sent to the lake for water to make tea.
On the way to the lake, Hayat pondered the events of the morning. With a smile he guessed that this old man was the famous magician and sorcerer of Azourland, Khronos the guardian of the sandglass, the main amulet of the Wonderful Green Forest.
It was said that Khronos was the same age as the evergreen oak and was famous for its wisdom, knowledge of magic and sorcery. The sandglass imparts it to foresight so he can look into the future, but he never does it, no matter how much you ask for it. Do not even ask because Khronos would become angry and he could cast a spell for you to grow donkey’s tail as a punishment. Many people turned to Khronos for advice, only he did not help everyone, but only those who were worthy of his help.
The squirrels’ boasting
Squirrels ran on the shore of the lake. “One, two, three, four, ten, twenty. How many are you here?” Hayat could not count because the squirrels were spinning in front of each other, quarrelled, bragging about their tails.
“My tail is the best, see what a wool: soft, smooth and how the sun shines!” One of the other squirrels shouted.
“You’re lying, you have a shabby tail. It would be better for you not to go to the venerable squirrel if you cannot see this truth. Mine on the other hand is brown-gold wool,” answered another squirrel.
“You both do not understand anything about tails,” interrupted the third squirrel, “since you cannot see that my tail is better than yours. Just look at this chocolate shade.”
“Do you still ask whose tail is the best?” Squealed the fourth squirrel, “You all need to see Dr. Owl so that he will prescribe you a remedy for dementia, because you are not healthy, since you do not see, my tail is the best squirrel tail in the whole forest.”
On the lake, there was a hubbub of squirrel voices. It was impossible to understand what was happening. Hayat stood, listened to the squirrels and decided not to interfere in squirrel quarrels. Hayat didn’t have a tail and squirrel tails were all the same to him – fluffy and brown. Hayat did not understand these squirrel disagreements.
Then the quarrel became a fight. The squirrels rolled around, thrashed, tore the fur off the top of each other’s bodies. The most vindictive of the squirrels tried to spoil the tail of a neighbour. Whatever the matter is, it is not known, only here a large white bear appeared on the meadow, named Grumbler. At that time, he was going for the water to the lake. Grumbler had a harsh temper, he could not stand noisy squirrels, so he scraped squirrels in a pile and threw them into the lake.
Grumbler
Every morning is the same. “And why the creator rewarded the squirrel with tails and such loud voices,” said the bear and raised his head to the sky, “if only the fleas attacked these squirrels. Who has the best tail? What’s the difference? As if there are no other activities in the forest as only to measure the quality and size of tails?”
The squirrels with an offended look climbed out of the lake and wandered off to dry their tails. The bear took water and went back to his den. Hayat also got water and went to the house of Khronos.
Hayat’s life in Khronos’s guests
Khronos suggested Hayat live with him and help him in gathering berries, mushrooms and nuts. Hayat agreed. So, the days passed unhurriedly. During the day Hayat was busy harvesting and, in the evening, he spent time with Khronos in a pleasant conversation.
He learned much about the customs of forest animals and birds. Khronos told him about other countries of Azourland: Oceania and the Flying Rocks.
Hayat talked about his life in the village and his dream – to win in the tournament “What is this?” Khronos asked in detail