In a Certain Kingdom Episode 1: Ivan the Prince and the Grey Wolf

In this classic tale, a king and his sons are disturbed by a thief who steals their magical apples, then disappears without a trace. The first two sons fail to catch him, but the third does, but in the process he enters a strange and magical world of shapeshifters and magical creatures, where every action can lead to wealth and prosperity, or his own sudden death. 

In the analysis section, fantasy author and Orthodox deacon Nicholas Kotar explains why, according to Russian philosopher Ivan Ilyin, fairy tales are indispensable for not only personal growth, but spiritual development as well. 

Below is the text of the fairy tale for your reading pleasure, as well

The Tale of Ivan the Prince and the Grey Wolf

In a certain kingdom, in a certain land, there lived a king named Berendei. He had three sons. The youngest was named Ivan. The king also had an unparalleled treasure–a wondrous garden, in which grew an apple tree with golden apples. 

One night, someone began to sneak into the king’s garden, to steal the golden apples. The king mourned the loss bitterly. He sent warriors to stand guard, but no one could find the thief. And yet, the apples continued to disappear. 

The king stopped eating and drinking. His sons, worried, comforted him. 

“Don’t worry dear father. We will stand guard ourselves.”

The eldest said, “Tonight is my turn. I will catch this thief and bring him to your swift justice.”

And so he went. Back and forth he walked for an hour. Two hours. Finally he sat down on the soft grass. Before he knew it, he was asleep. 

In the morning, the king asked him, “Well, my eldest! Will you bring me tidings of joy? Did you catch the thief?”

“No, dear father,” he answered. “All night I walked back and forth, never closing an eye. I saw no one.”

The next night, the middle son did the same. Back and forth he walked for an hour. Two hours. Finally, he sat down on the soft grass. Before he knew it, he was asleep. In the morning, he said he saw no one. 

Then came Ivan’s turn. Ivan walked back and forth, not even daring to sit down, much less lie down, for fear of falling asleep. No sooner did his eyelids droop than he washed his face in the fresh dew from the grass. Half the night passed. Then, it seemed as though he saw a dream–the garden was alight!

Brighter and brighter grew this light. The whole garden shone as in the middle of a sunny day. Then he saw it. A firebird landed on the apple tree and started to peck at the golden apples. Quietly, stealthily, Ivan the Prince crept up to the bird. Jumping up, he reached for it. The firebird flew up faster than he thought possible and away, away beyond the garden wall. All that was left in his hand was a single, brilliant feather from her tail. 

In the morning, Ivan came to his father. 

“Well, my dear Vaniusha, did you see the thief?”

“My dear father, catch him I could not. But I saw who it was. Father, it was a firebird.”

The king took the feather, and joy returned to his heart. He ate and drank and made merry again. 

But the feather, brilliant as it was, started to eat away at his thoughts. And so, one fine morning, he called his sons into his presence. 

“My dear children, who of you will saddle your fine horse, ride across the wide world, and find me the firebird?”

All three sons bowed to their father and rushed to the stables. The eldest rode in one direction, the second, in another, and Ivan the Prince chose yet a third. 

Whether a long time or a short time, Ivan the Prince rode and rode. On a hot summer day, he grew tired of his long ride. Getting off his horse, he hobbled it, then he lay down in the shade of an oak and fell asleep. 

Whether a long time  or a short time, Ivan slept and slept. When he woke up, there was no sign of the horse. Jumping up, he went to find it. Finally he found it–nothing was left but bones. Ivan the Prince grew sad. But what is a prince to do? He continued on foot. All day he walked, and the next day after that. Tired he was, almost to death. Finally he sat down on a log and started to weep. 

Out of nowhere, a grey wolf appeared before him and started to speak.

“Well there, Ivan the Prince, why are you sitting there with your head hung low?”

“How can I fail to weep, grey wolf?” answered the prince. “I have lost my fine horse.”

“Ah, that was me, Ivan,” said the wolf. “I was hungry, and such is the nature of the wolf. But I feel sorry for you. Tell me, where were you going, and what were you seeking?”

“My father sent me to ride across the wide world and to find the firebird.”

“Ha ha! On your horse it would take you more than three years to find it. Only I alone know where she lives. Well, fair’s fair. I ate your horse, and so I will be a mount for you and serve you well. Sit on me and hold on tight.”

Ivan the prince sat astride the grey wolf. The wolf jumped, and entire forests passed below them, lakes and rivers as though brushed aside by the wolf’s tail. Soon they stood at the foot of a tall fortress. 

The grey wolf said, “Hear me, Ivan the Prince, and listen well. Climb the wall, fear not! It is a good hour; the guards are all asleep. In the tower, you’ll see a window. In that window hangs a golden cage. In that cage sits the firebird. Take the bird, place her in your coat, but see that you do not touch the cage!”

Ivan the Prince climbed the wall, saw the tower. There in the window hung a golden cage, in the cage sat the firebird. He took the bird, put it in his coat, but his eye lingered on the cage. His heart started to beat wildly: “Oh, how golden it is, how precious! How can I not take it?” And he forgot the wolf’s warning. 

No sooner did he touch the cage than trumpets sounded, drumbeats rolled wildly, the guards woke up, seized Ivan the Prince and led him to King Aphron. 

King Aphron was angry.

“Whose son are you? From where?” he asked. 

“I am King Berendei’s son. Ivan the Prince.”

“Oh, what a shame! A king’s son turned thief.”

“And what of your own bird, that stole our golden apples?”

“And why did you not come to me, ask me with a good conscience? I would have given the firebird to your father, out of respect. Well, what’s done is done. If you do me a good service, I will forgive you. In the kingdom of Sultan Kusman there is a horse with a golden mane. Bring it to me, then I will give you the firebird as a gift.”

Ivan the Prince grew sad. With his head hung low, he returned to the grey wolf. 

“I told you,” said the wolf. “Don’t touch the cage! Why did you not listen to me?”

“Forgive me, grey wolf,” was all that Ivan could muster. 

“Well, what’s done is done. Sit down on my back. I said I would serve you well. And serve you I will.”

Once again, the lands sped away underneath them as the wolf ran. Whether long their way or short, they arrived at another, even taller fortress. 

“Climb the wall, Ivan the Prince,” said the wolf. “The guards are asleep. Go to the stables, take the horse, but take care! Do not touch the golden bridle!”

Ivan the Prince climbed the wall, found the stables, caught the horse with the golden mane, but then, he glanced at the golden bridle. It glistened with fine jewels. How could he resist? Such a fine horse deserved only such a precious bridle. And he forgot all about the wolf’s warning. 

No sooner did he touch the bridle than  trumpets sounded, drumbeats rolled wildly, the guards woke up, seized Ivan the Prince and led him to Sultan Kusman. 

Sultan Kusman was angry.

“Whose son are you? From where?” he asked. 

“I am King Berendei’s son. Ivan the Prince.”

“Oh, what shame! A king’s son turned thief! Well, what’s done is done. If you do me a good service, I will forgive you. The king of the neighboring kingdom, Dalmat, has a daughter, Elena the Beautiful. Bring her to me, then I will give you the horse and the bridle.”

Ivan the Prince grew sad. With his head hung low, he returned to the grey wolf. 

“I told you,” said the wolf. “Don’t touch the bridle! Why did you not listen to me?”

“Forgive me, grey wolf,” was all that Ivan could muster. 

“Well, what’s done is done. Sit down on my back. I said I would serve you well. And serve you I will.”

Once again, the lands sped past them as the wolf ran. Whether long they rode or short, they arrived at yet a taller tower. On top was a walled garden. Inside it, Yelena the Beautiful walked with her nurses and her maids. 

The grey wolf said, “This time I won’t send you at all, Ivan the Prince. I’ll go myself. As for you, start your way back home on foot. I’ll catch up with you.”

Ivan the Prince hesitated, but did as he was told. 

The grey wolf jumped over the wall and into the garden. He sat behind a bush and waited. Soon, Elena the Beautiful came out with her nannies and her maids. She walked around for a time. Then she walked away from her chaperones, ever so slightly farther than she should. The grey wolf grabbed Elena the Beautiful, threw her over his back, and flew away.

Ivan the Prince walked on foot. Suddenly, the grey wolf caught up with him, and on his back sat Elena the Beautiful. Ivan the Prince was glad, but the grey wolf told him, “Hurry up and sit on my back, or they’ll catch up with us!”

The grey wolf ran with Ivan the Prince and Elena the Beautiful on his back– the lands sped away underneath them as before. Whether long was their journey or short, they arrived at Sultan Kusman’s fortress. The grey wolf asked Ivan the Prince, “Why are you silent and sorrowful?”

“How can I not be, grey wolf? How will I part with such beauty? How can I trade Elena the Beautiful for a horse?”

The grey wolf answered, “I won’t separate you from such beauty. We’ll hide her somewhere, and I will turn into Elena the Beautiful. Lead me to the king.”

So they hid Elena the Beautiful in a forest hut. The grey wolf jumped over his own head and turned into an exact image of Elena the Beautiful. So Ivan brought the wolf to Sultan Kusman. The sultan was thrilled and began to shower Ivan with complements. 

“Thank you, Ivan the Prince, for bringing me this bride. Receive as your reward my horse with the golden mane, along with the promised bridle.”

Ivan the Prince sat on the horse and rode straight to Elena the Beautiful. He put her on the horse and they rode on. 

But Sultan Kusman immediately married the beautiful maid, feasted all day until night, and as was proper, went to bed with his new wife. But no sooner did he lie on the bed than a wolf’s maw stared back at him on the bed! The sultan fell out of his bed in terror, and the wolf ran away.

The grey wolf caught up with Ivan the Prince and asked him, “Why are you so silent and sorrowful, Ivan the Prince?” 

“How can I not be sorrowful? I don’t wish to part with this treasure. How can I trade such a horse for the firebird?”

“Don’t be sad, I will help you.”

And so they arrived at the fortress of King Aphron. 

The grey wolf said, “Hide the horse and Elena the Beautiful. I will turn into a horse with a golden man. Lead me to King Aphron.”

They hid the horse and Elena the Beautiful in the forest. The grey wolf jumped over his own back, turned into a horse with a golden mane. Ivan the Prince brought him to King Aphron. The king was thrilled, and immediately gave Ivan the firebird in its golden cage. Ivan the Prince returned to the forest on foot, sat Elena the beautiful on the horse with a golden mane, took the firebird and the cage in hand, and walked the road home on foot. 

King Aphron demanded that the horse be brought him. No sooner did he sit down on it that the horse turned back into the grey wolf. The king fell down from sheer terror, and the grey wolf ran away and back to Ivan the Prince. 

“And now farewell, Ivan. I can go no further.” 

Ivan the Prince bowed three times to the earth before the wolf, thanking him with great respect. But the wolf said, ominously.

“Do not say farewell, for I may still be of service to you.”

But Ivan the Prince didn’t believe him. “How can he still be of use to me, he thought? All my desires have been fulfilled.” 

And so he sat on the horse with the golden mane, and both he and Elena the Beautiful rode on with the firebird in hand. Soon, they grew tired from their journey. They ate a bit of bread, drank a bit of water, and lay down in the shadow of an oak to sleep. 

No sooner did Ivan the Prince fall asleep than his brothers rode by. All that time they had traveled the wide world, seeking the firebird, but they came back emptyhanded. They rode up and were surprised to see Ivan. And not only was he there, but he had found so many treasures! And so they made a bargain.

“Let’s kill our brother, and the treasure will be ours.”

They cast lots, and one of them won the horse, the other–Elena the Beautiful. 

And they killed Ivan the Prince. They took the horse, the firebird, and Elena the Beautiful. Her they warned to say nothing, or she would regret it. 

Ivan the Prince lay at the foot of the oak tree, dead. Already the ravens descended to feast on his remains. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the grey wolf appeared and grabbed a raven with its chick. 

“Go, raven, go find the living water and the dead water. Bring it to me, then I will release your chick.”

The raven–what could he do?–he flew away, while the wolf held the chick in his mouth. Whether he traveled long or short, the raven brought the living water and the dead water. The grey wolf sprinkled Ivan with the dead water–all of his wounds closed up. He sprinkled him with living water, and the prince came back to life. He stood up and stretched, yawning: “Oh, what a wonderful sleep I had!”

“A wonderful sleep?” echoed the wolf. “if not for me, it would have been permanent! Your own dear brothers killed you and carried away all your treasures. Sit on my back quickly!”

They raced in the brothers’ wake, catching up with them just as the brothers rode into sight of hearth and home. The wolf attacked them, tearing them into pieces, scatting the bits all over the fields.

Ivan the Prince bowed again to the grey wolf and parted with him for all time. 

Ivan the Prince returned home on the horse with a golden mane, he brought his father the firebird, and Elena the Beautiful he took as his bride 

King Berendei was glad, and asked his son about his adventures. And so Ivan told him everything–how the grey wolf helped him, how his own brothers killed him while he slept, and how the grey wolf tore them into pieces. The king mourned, but only for a time. And Ivan the Prince married Elena the Beautiful. And they lived together, with no sorrow ever darkening their days. 

To listen to Jonathan Pageau’s excellent symbolic analysis of this tale, click here.

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