In the days of fairy-tale reckoning, there lived an old woman named Isolde, and she had a decanter. Crystal on the outside, mirror-like on the inside, with a glass bottom and a tin neck. In the neck were three openings: large, small, and medium. A strange contraption... The old woman herself didn't know all its properties, but believed it had come to her for a reason.
Isolde grew up as an orphan with a childless craftsman. One day, as a small girl, she drew this decanter and asked her father to craft her childish fancy. The craftsman was very skilled, and the drawing became reality.
When Isolde grew up, she became a dazzling beauty. Young men literally lost their minds and sight when they looked at her longer than she wished. They called after her "witch!" but she paid it no mind, for she had never cast spells or harmed anyone.
All the young men of the region fell in love with Isolde, but she was very proud. People even said her heart was made of ice.
But one day disaster struck – Isolde's adoptive father suddenly died. And her heart was seared by the first tear of bitterness, for he was the only man she had ever loved. Her tears flowed endlessly and dripped into the middle opening of that very decanter.
Thus began the history of the vessel of life. Isolde had a difficult time after her father's death. She couldn't continue his work, and to survive, she sold the masterpieces he had created at exorbitant prices. In truth, these things were priceless, but incomprehensible to anyone. And to make people buy them, she invented legends, telling of their miraculous properties. From early morning until late evening, Isolde wandered the market, offering customers various items. The day came when she had to sell almost everything that remained from her father. It was a hot and sorrowful summer day for the girl, because tomorrow held only the unknown. She didn't know how to go on living. Drops of sweat ran down her back, falling into the large opening of the decanter, which Isolde carried on her shoulders. This was the last thing she could sell.
Parting with the crystal vessel proved difficult, but she needed money. And she didn't know what to do with the decanter. "Though it's dear to my heart, it's still just a trinket," the girl thought.
Buy the decanter!
She offered it to a wealthy man.
What use is it to me?! My palace has plenty of decanters!
Yours are ordinary, but you won't find one like this anywhere. It's not just a decanter, but a vessel of life. There's a legend…
And like an incantation, she spoke in an enchanted voice:
Let three drops fall through the openings three—
Sweat, tears, and blood's decree.
As if into the soul the vessel you see,
And behold yourself, but three times three.
What was, what is, and what shall be,
Let love cool your heart's fire free.
As crystal rings with laughter bright,
You'll never age, forever young and light!
If the glass bottom should break and fall,
Then your time has ended, that is all.
Vessel of life…
She repeated.
The wealthy man liked the legend. He bought the curiosity for his amusement. And Isolde, having sold everything she had, prepared to leave. When suddenly someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw her father. Isolde fainted. And when she came to, she saw a young man before her.
For the first time, she allowed someone to look at her so long that her head spun from his enchanting gaze. It was a look of love, like an arrow piercing her heart. She felt very hot, but somehow unwell.
The beautiful young man was a foreign prince named Ignatius. He had run away from his father, setting out on a distant journey. His father wanted to marry him off quickly to pass the rule of the state to him, but Ignatius was still very young and passionate. He was drawn to unexplored places, curious things, and adventures.
Enchanted by Isolde's beauty, he immediately proposed to her, offering his hand and heart as a sign of his love. The girl was struck by Ignatius's resemblance to her late father and took it as a sign from above. Without hesitation, she agreed. Nothing held her here, and she was ready to follow her beloved to the ends of the earth. Ignatius took her to his country to introduce her to his father.
The King was at first displeased that Ignatius's chosen one had no lineage or title. But enchanted by her beauty, he nonetheless agreed to the wedding.
So there she is, the one who cooled your ardour, and you'll finally forget about your adventures!
Said the King at the wedding feast.
Isolde is my most incredible adventure. I'm certain that with her I'll discover many secrets of this world!
Concluded Ignatius. And the lovers whirled in a dance, showering each other with kisses.
On the wedding night, Isolde felt as though she were burning with love. In the morning, the girl woke from intense fever and malaise. Her body felt as though filled with lead. With difficulty, she approached the mirror and saw a pale woman with sunken eyes and parched lips. She looked ten years older than Isolde.
Who are you?
Asked the girl, touching the mirror with a trembling hand.
It's you, Isolde!
The woman in the mirror began to age before her eyes, and when she turned into a withered old crone, she said:
You will become like this if you don't rid yourself of the heart beating in your womb! You, Isolde, are the daughter of a cold sorcerer. Your beauty will be eternal as long as your heart is cold as ice. Tears, suffering, and pain are foreign to you. Don't let them melt your heart, or your old age will be eternal… eternal!..
Ignatius entered the room. Isolde was frightened and turned away from him, saying:
My love, I don't want you to see me like this! Please, call the maid, she'll help me put myself in order.
Ignatius embraced her shoulders.
You are the most beautiful in the world, don't talk nonsense.
No, no, please,
Isolde pleaded.
I just feel unwell today. Please, leave!
I'll call the best physician!
Exclaimed the prince.
Oh no!
Isolde was even more frightened, thinking that the physician might reveal her secret.
Please, leave!
Ignatius flared with indignation, but nonetheless left.
When the maid appeared, Isolde asked her to buy the best rouge and powder at the market. Every day she hid her true face behind paint, as if behind a theatrical mask. She avoided her husband, making up various excuses.
Why this masquerade!
Ignatius marvelled.
These are the secrets of my beauty, it's fashionable now, or… I don't want other men to fall in love with me,
Isolde schemed in every way.
She loved her husband dearly and feared losing him. She feared losing the one she carried in her heart, but she was also afraid to tell the truth.
Ignatius grew cold towards Isolde, not understanding her deception. He began to go out to sea more often, but his father insisted that the prince not distance himself from state affairs, attending balls and social gatherings.
At one such ball, Ignatius became infatuated with a noblewoman. The girl enchanted the young prince. And soon she announced to him that he would soon have an heir.
Ignatius was furious at the girl's audacity and demanded that she leave the country.
What heir are you talking about?! Do you imagine yourself a princess?
Why not? After all, I could become one! Am I worse than your common-born wife?
She declared defiantly.
Ignatius wanted to object. But their conversation was interrupted by the King. He had learned everything and intended to marry Ignatius to the one who would give him an heir.
The prince's indignation turned to fury and he went straight to his wife. Accusing her of no longer loving him, Ignatius threw his wife out of the palace.
Heartbroken, Isolde wandered aimlessly. From tears and sorrow, she aged faster and faster. And the child was already draining all her strength.
She became lost in a dense forest, and there a beautiful girl was born. Isolde only managed to wrap the child in red satin cloth and embroider the name "Vadalina" in golden thread. Losing her last strength, she fell unconscious.
The wild smell of a wolf woke her. The girl was gone. Only a large red stain soaked into the damp earth remained, and something shiny lay nearby, resembling a pendant. Isolde thought the wolves had taken the girl. From grief, she wanted to die, but that was impossible… She wanted to cry, but had no tears. Her hands were bony and pale. Her entire life flashed before her eyes. She remembered her father and her homeland. And she wandered to where she was born. Her journey was long.
Isolde no longer knew what day it was when she reached a beautiful palace. She was tormented by thirst and exhaustion. At the threshold of the palace, the master met her. Isolde dared to ask him for water. And he brought her a decanter. Yes, that very decanter. She recognised it. Like an incantation, she spoke her legend, listening to every word:
Let three drops fall through the openings three—
Sweat, tears, and blood's decree.
As if into the soul the vessel you see,
And behold yourself, but three times three.
What was, what is, and what shall be,
Let love cool your heart's fire free.
As crystal rings with laughter bright,
You'll never age, forever young and light!
If the glass bottom should break and fall,
Then your time has ended, that is all.
Vessel of life…
She repeated.
Memories flooded back. The decanter was with her when her father died, and she shed tears over it. It was with her on the happy day when she met Ignatius, when she carried it on her shoulders in the sweat of her brow. "What if it's true," Isolde wondered. Hastily, she reached into her pocket for the needle she always carried. Closing her eyes, she pricked her hands mercilessly. But alas, she had no blood left, and all that remained was for her to drink the water and go on, dragging her miserable existence on the earth.
Finally, old Isolde looked into the decanter and saw three reflections: the past, the present, and a small girl. She smiled at her. "My daughter, Vadalina!" she thought, and tears streamed from her eyes. The water gave her strength and faith. She felt more alive than ever before, and her memory became clear. Isolde vividly imagined how happy Ignatius would be to see his princess.
She remembered how happy she had been with him and that day when the maid brought her powder and rouge. Her image was so vivid in her memory that she made out shining earrings. Her hand reached into her pocket for the pendant she had found in the forest. It was exactly like the earring, only the ear hook was broken.
Isolde decided to find the maid at all costs, and perhaps her daughter as well. This was her last hope. But she also understood that the decanter meant a great deal to her, and she bought it back from the wealthy man with her wedding ring set with precious foreign stones.
The old woman sat at the threshold of the magnificent palace disguised as a beggar. The maid came out to her with an offering. And Isolde held out the earring to her on her palm in exchange.
The maid recognised the earring and asked with great interest:
Where did you get it, good woman?
And Isolde told her her story. The maid burst into tears, hardly believing her eyes.
Tell me, dear one, where is my daughter?
The "beggar" pleaded.
That day I followed you, and finding you unconscious, I took the girl to the palace. I told Ignatius that I found her in the forest when gathering mushrooms. He became very attached to the little one, noticing that she resembled you, my lady. He never forgot you! All this time the prince and the King have been trying to find you.
And what of his new wife?
The King married his son against his will, and that was Ignatius's fault. And that quick-witted young lady deceived them both, saying she was expecting a child, but turned out to be quite incapable of it. The physician told his majesty the truth about her illness. For her deception, the princess was banished from the country and stripped of her title. Will you tell his majesty the truth?
Yes! But first I want to check something. You must help me. I need one drop of Vadalina's blood.
The maid fulfilled her mistress's request, reciting the incantation. Youth returned to Isolde, but it was no longer eternal, but like that of an ordinary beautiful girl.
And she instructed the maid to tell Ignatius in the morning that there was an old woman at the market with a magical decanter.
There was no doubt that Ignatius would want to buy it. Just as five years ago, he touched Isolde's shoulder. But this time she didn't faint; instead, she smiled and said:
Buy the decanter! It's no ordinary thing, it's a vessel of life!
I've already told you that you, Isolde, are my most unforgettable adventure!
Said Ignatius to his beloved when she finished her story.
The love of Ignatius and Isolde gave birth to the harmony of opposites. Ignatius was able to melt the ice in Isolde's heart. And Isolde cooled the ardour and wanderlust of Ignatius.
They lived long and happily until the day when the glass bottom of the decanter suddenly cracked. Isolde knew her hour had come, but she was no longer afraid of death; she welcomed it. After all, she had chosen this fate herself.
On her deathbed, she said to her daughter:
Your grandfather was a cold sorcerer. His power lives in you too. Use it, but don't forget that no matter what gift you possess, there is no sweeter life than one tested by sweat, tears, and blood!
Ignatius's candle burned out seven days after the loss of his beloved. And Vadalina grew up and carried this story to all corners of the world, as the ocean spreads its waters through the veins of rivers.
