An ancient folktale from Orkney retold by Abbie Simmonds.
First published in EcoKids Planet magazine November 2015
You might think magic has left this
world, but magic remains in in the Isles of Orkney. There, on dark nights, you
can still hear the songs of the faery folk and find their footprints in the
morning dew. On those islands of rock and grass and sand, you will find the
finger-bones of giants and the rock swords of great warriors. This is the tale
of how the islands came to be.
Many moons ago
a boy lived in the far north, in a grim farmhouse on a grim farm with his
grim
father and grim brothers. But he was not born to be a farmer. He spent day and
nights lying by the fire, dreaming dreams whispered by flame spirits.
“I dreamt I killed
a great monster and saved a Princess from its jaws,” he said.
His brothers
laughed at him. “You live in the fireplace! You are a weak dreamer. Ha! You
couldn’t defeat a fly! Cinderbiter!”
But then one
day, everything changed.
The Stoor Wyrm came
from the sea. It was an enormous snake with silver-blue scales, sharp spikes and
eyes full of hate. As its great body rose from the angry oceans, the world grew
dark. Its voice made the earth shiver and shake.
“I want your
Princess. You have three days to give her to me or I will eat every man, woman
and child of Scotland!”
The brave Princess
loved her people and didn’t want any of them to be killed. She dressed herself in
a beautiful gown of green and tied silver ribbons into her red hair. She was
about to go to the beach and let the Wyrm take her away, but her father the
King would not let her go. He sent messengers to every corner of the land
begging for heroes, warriors and strong men to defeat the monster and save his
daughter. And the heroes and warriors and strong men drew their swords and
sharpened their spears and rushed to the sea to kill the beast.
And -
snip-snap-snickle - every single one was eaten by the Stoor Wyrm!
As all this was
going on, Cinderbiter lay sleeping and dreaming by the fire. He awoke to the sharp
clatter of horse’s hooves.
“The Wyrm is
here. The beast will eat the Princess if he is not defeated!”
Suddenly Cinderbiter
realised that he knew what to do! His dreams had shown him how this Wyrm could
be beaten.
At midnight, Cinderbiter
put a burning coal from the fire into a tin box, jumped on the back of his
father’s horse and galloped down to the beach. The Wyrm was in the water, its
huge head resting on the sand. Cinderbiter waited in the moonlight, feeling his
heart beating hard in his chest. All was quiet. And then the beast began to
yawn. It mouth opened to show hundreds of sharp, white teeth and a blood red
forked tongue. Cinderbiter saw his chance - he ran as fast as he could straight
into the mouth of the monster!
The Stoor Wyrm
swallowed and Cinderbiter found himself falling down, down, down. He landed
with a bump in the belly of the beast. It was dark, dripping and wet inside the
serpent and smelled terrible! Cinderbiter held his breath, opened the tin box
and thrust the hot coal into the nearest bit of Wyrm. The coal spluttered,
stuttered, spat… and flames into life.
On the cliffs,
people watched as clouds of thick smoke flowed from the nose, ears and mouth of
the Wyrm. The sky became so full of smoke that the moon and stars were hidden
and everything grew very, very dark.
“The world is
coming to an end!” they cried.
Then the Wyrm opened
its jaws wide and let out a great, firey burp! Cinderbiter came flying out of
the creature’s mouth and landed - FLUMP - on the beach. He was singed and
scorched but unharmed. His family ran to his side; his brothers hugged him as
tight as they could.
“You crazy
dreamer!” they sobbed. “You could have been killed!”
The Stoor Wyrm
rose straight up out of the foaming waters. Fire poured from its mouth and sizzled
on the stormy ocean waves. It roared a booming roar, fell and SPLASHED into the
sea. Its huge teeth tumbled from its mouth. They sunk to the bottom of the sea,
but they were so big that the tops of those teeth poked out of the water.
Then everything
was quiet once more.
The King,
Princess and the people of Scotland rushed onto the beach. They lifted Cinderbiter
onto their shoulders.
“Hero! Dreamer!
Hero! Dreamer!” rose the shout. A great feast was held that lasted for many
days and many nights.
Years passed. Over
time, the monster’s teeth turned green and grey and became the magical and
mysterious Isles of Orkney. Cinderbiter, the great hero, married the brave
Princess. They built their home on those beautiful islands and ruled them with
wisdom and kindness till the end of their days.
The storytellers of Orkney still tell
tales of the great wyrm and remember how important it is to sit by the fire and
listen to the stories it has to tell.
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