Cinderella and Alangazar

“Cinderella and Alangazar” is a true fairy tale kaleidoscope, where classic characters gain new life, and imagination and humor become the living fabric of a wondrous world. Cinderella here is not just a fairytale heroine, but a commander, a mother, a dreamer, and a leader. Beside her stand loyal friends: giants, talking foxes, mermaids, the Mamyts, Ertoshuk, the White and Blue Giants, and many more.

Each chapter is a mini-epic told around a campfire—full of wonders, friendship, amusing mishaps, deep love, and gentle irony. The characters are vivid and memorable, each with their own distinct voice, personality, and story, where fairy tales and modernity intertwine. A time machine, football matches with gnomes, feasts with dragons, a witches’ theater, and pies with prophecies—all create an atmosphere of magic where one wants to stay longer.

The book carries a special humanistic value: themes of kindness, mutual help, respect for elders, honesty, and inner strength are presented not in a preachy way, but through joyful and captivating plots.

It is perfectly suited for family reading, theatrical adaptations, films, and animated series.

Conclusion:

“Cinderella and Alangazar” is not just a fairy tale—it’s a world you’ll want to return to again and again. It’s a book that children under 13, their parents, and even those who once stopped believing in magic—but are now starting to again—will want to read and reread.

Cinderella and Alangazar:

Chapter 1: Cinderella’s New Life

After Cinderella married the prince, her life changed completely – it wasn’t just balls and ribbons anymore, but also matters of state. She turned out to be a wise and just ruler, and one day she even took command of a very special regiment – the Valiant Magical Battalion.

This was no ordinary battalion. It included the most extraordinary warriors from across the kingdom: flying mice, dwarf artillerymen, mermaid scouts, and even one giant named Alangazar.

Alangazar was as tall as a bell tower, with a voice like thunder and a heart as gentle as a plush teddy bear. He used to live in the mountains, far from people. But after he got married, his wise wife told him:

– Darling, it’s time you got a proper job. Enough with chasing clouds and scaring eagles. You’re a giant – start acting like one!

Alangazar thought about it… and joined the army. His strength, endurance, and thunderous laughter – which frightened enemies before the battle even began – came in very handy.

Every week, Cinderella personally visited the barracks: she checked if everything was in order, listened to complaints and praise, and sometimes just dropped by the dining hall to have lunch with the soldiers.

Alangazar especially liked signing up for personal audiences.

– Your Highness, – he boomed, scratching his head, – my bed broke again. It gave out when I turned onto my other side. Sorry, that’s the fourth one this month…

Cinderella smiled:

– Well, a giant is no small matter. I’ll order them to make you a bed out of oak and dragon bones. Maybe that will hold.

– Thank you, Your Highness! – Alangazar said joyfully, bowing so low that all the windows rattled.

Sometimes Alangazar brought Cinderella letters from his wife, covered in enormous hearts and messages like:

"Thank you, dear Cinderella, for taking care of my hubby!"

Cinderella valued soldiers like him. And even though the giant needed special shoes (made from two canvas tents), double rations, and forty-liter pots of soup – she never spared kingdom funds or kind words for him.

Beside Alangazar, there were many other unusual comrades-in-arms:

– Melody, the Drummer Fairy, who only spoke in drum rhythms.

– Sergeant Cat the Werebeast, who turned into a tiger on full moons and swept the courtyard with his tail.

– Pixel the Balletmaster Dwarf, who taught the troops to march gracefully.

Every day in this battalion was like a new chapter of a fairytale. And Cinderella, though now a high official, never forgot what it meant to be kind and humble.

Alangazar once said:

– When I was small, my grandfather – the Great Gazar – was dying. He was as tall as a mountain and lived near human villages. On the day he died, he walked to the market square. People froze: he wasn’t lying down or resting – he was dying on his feet. Swaying like an old oak in the wind…

He was so huge, wherever he fell, he could cause disaster. If he fell toward the village – the market would be crushed. Toward the river – it could flood the land.

But the hardest thing was this: my grandfather always did the opposite. If told "stop," he’d go. If people shouted "left!" – he’d turn right. That was his way – stubborn, but fair.

Those who knew him understood and shouted:

– Fall this way! Fall toward us!

They knew he’d do the opposite.

But those who didn’t know him screamed in fear:

– No! Not toward us! Fall away! Fall far away!

And that only made things more dangerous.

He stood, swaying between fear and hope, unsure where to fall…

Then one wise voice from the crowd shouted:

– People! He always does the opposite. If you want to live – tell him to fall on us!

And a miracle happened. The people overcame their fear. Hundreds of voices cried out in unison:

– Fall on us, Great Gazar! Fall this way! We are not afraid!

Grandfather smiled – for the last time. He took a step back… and fell into the river.

His body shattered, but one of his bones became a bridge. Since then, people have crossed it – from village to village, from market to home, with hope in their hearts. A bridge from a giant who chose to be useful even in his final moment.

And when I walk across that bridge, I always feel warmth under my feet. That’s my grandfather’s heart. Still warming people to this day.

When Alangazar finished, the garden fell silent.

Cinderella sat motionless, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. Her golden curls stirred gently in the breeze, but she seemed spellbound. A single tear sparkled on her cheek.

– That… that’s the most incredible story I’ve ever heard, – she whispered. – And you know, Alangazar… I would have shouted, “Fall on us,” too.

She stood, stepped closer, and laid her hand on his enormous palm – like a drop of water on a burdock leaf.

– Thank you for carrying the memory of giants. For serving. And for telling stories that give me goosebumps.

Alangazar blushed – well, as much as a giant can. His ears turned pink, and his eyes almost released two buckets of tears.

– Thank you, Your High… – he started, his voice trembling.

– No more "Your Highness," – said Cinderella, clapping her hands. – Today, I’m just Cinderella. And you’re the Grandson of the Bridge. Come, I’ll show you my lemon tree. It’s stubborn too – refuses to bear fruit. Maybe it needs a good story?

And so they walked, the giant and the princess, down the garden path like old friends.

When they returned from the garden, soldiers were already gathered on the porch – one with a mug of juice, another with a cat on his shoulder, a third with a guitar missing its strings.

In this battalion, curiosity always beat sleep.

– What are you all doing here? – Alangazar asked, scratching his head.

– Isn’t it obvious? We’re eavesdropping, – yawned Sergeant Cat the Werebeast, swatting a fly off his ear. – That wasn’t just talk. You told a whole ballad with your bass.

– Yes, yes! – said Melody the Drummer Fairy, tapping a rhythm with her wings. – We heard everything from behind the bushes! Wonderful story!

– At first we thought you were singing about a bridge… – added Pixel the Ballet Dwarf. – Then we realized it was the truth. And you know, true stories make the best fairytales.

Cinderella smiled, stepped onto the porch step, and looked over her battalion:

– Today, you didn’t just hear a tale. You heard a living memory. A memory of a giant who chose help over destruction, care over ego. Let the story of Alangazar’s grandfather live in this battalion.

Then she said loudly:

– From this day forward, the bridge over the Star River near the western barracks shall be named Gazar Bridge!

The soldiers applauded. Even the picky goat-cartographer bleated with joy.

The next morning, one of the soldiers chalked a message on the headquarters signboard:

“Fall on us, if you wish to become a bridge.”

(A popular saying in Cinderella’s battalion)

From that day on, every new recruit heard the story. Everyone knew who Alangazar was. And everyone, when crossing Gazar Bridge, bowed – not out of fear, but out of respect.

The Fox Scout and the Great Cholesterol Story

In Cinderella’s battalion served a very peculiar fox – named Fox. He was human-sized, wore a tilted cap, and always kept his paws in his pockets. In reconnaissance, he was unmatched: he could sneak into any fortress, gather intel, and never stain his collar.

Fox was known not only for spy exploits but also for his tales – cheeky, clever, and always with a moral.

One evening by the campfire, someone asked:

– Fox, were you always in the military?

The fox grinned and snapped his fingers:

– Oh no. Once, I was just a fox… with ambition.

I had a human friend – kind, generous. I proposed a plan that, to me, seemed very reasonable:

– Let’s eat our livestock one by one – first yours, then mine.

The man agreed. We feasted on his sheep, goats, and chickens – stews, kebabs, even noodle broth. But soon, his livestock was gone.

– Now let’s eat yours, – said the man.

And I replied:

– What? Oh, my dear! Doctors say meat and fat are bad for your arteries – cholesterol! We must eat greens!

– So what happened? – a soldier asked.

– He agreed. We ate grass, sorrel, nettles… and then I quietly moved in with a new friend – a wolf.

Same plan. But the wolf… wasn’t so simple.

One day, when it was time to eat my livestock, the wolf said:

– Buddy, you don’t have any livestock. And you know what? I think you are my dinner.

But I wasn’t a scout for nothing! I told him I had a secret map to a canned meat warehouse hidden in my tail. While he searched – I escaped.

Since then, I avoid sharp-toothed friends with no sense of humor.

Everyone around the fire roared with laughter. Even Alangazar clapped his huge hands.

Cinderella, sipping her tea, smiled:

– Fox, you’re quite the trickster. But in my battalion, you’re worth your weight in gold. Just promise me one thing – don’t eat government sheep.

– Scout’s honor, Your… Cinderella! – said the fox, barely holding in his laugh.

To be continued: Fox and the Wolf.

Second Story – About a Mare

When the fire was crackling softly and stars peeked over the barracks, someone said:

– Fox, one more! About the wolf!

The fox stretched, yawned theatrically, and said:

– Alright… but don’t blame me if you laugh until you hiccup.

He leaned against a tree and began:

– One day I actually did get caught by that same wolf. I don’t remember how – just that he was staring at me with hungry eyes, growling:

– Fox! I’m going to eat you! I’m starving!

Without missing a beat, I said:

– Dear Wolf, you won’t be satisfied with me. Look at me – all fur and tail. Go to the mare. She’s big, fat, and filling. That’s a real meal!

The wolf licked his lips, scratched his ear, and said:

– You know, you’ve got a point.

He tiptoed to the mare and said:

– Mare! I’m going to eat you!

But the mare – clever creature – sized him up and yawned lazily:

– Why bother? Open wide – I’ll crawl in myself.

The wolf was thrilled:

– What a lunch! No work at all!

He opened his jaws as wide as he could… and the mare – WHAM! – kicked him right in the forehead!

The thud was so loud a raven fell off a pine. Since then, the wolf avoids foxes and fears mares so much he hiccups at the sight of hooves.

The soldiers were rolling with laughter – on the grass, on benches. Even Pixel the dwarf was hiccupping and crying at the same time, and the goat-cartographer was rolling on the ground, bleating.

Cinderella, wiping tears from her eyes, said:

– Fox, I think someday you’ll write a book called “How to Survive as a Fox.” And I’ll write the foreword myself.

– I’ll give you both copies – signed, – winked the fox.

The Story of Corporal Nettie – the Hedgehog with a Spine and a Heart

In Cinderella’s battalion, the one in charge of health and order was Corporal Nettie – a hedgehog in pince-nez glasses, always with a notebook wrapped in a bandage. Small and prickly on the outside, but only until someone sneezed or skipped breakfast.

She always carried a first-aid kit, from which she would pull out:

a herbal brew for those who fell into the river;

bruise cream after Alangazar’s training sessions;

calming candies for those heading into reconnaissance for the first time.

But most importantly – she healed with words.

One day, a little mouse named Swiftpaw came to her crying:

– I… I’m no longer the fastest! A snail beat me during drills! A snail, Corporal!

Nettie adjusted her glasses and jotted something down in her notebook.

– Mmm… Classic case of Meaningless Hurry Syndrome. Prescription: one day walking on tiptoes. No running. Just tiptoe. Look how beautiful the world is.

Swiftpaw was indignant at first. But the next day, she noticed how the morning sun glistened in puddles, how the cat pretended to nap just to avoid washing dishes, and how Fox was secretly sneaking donuts into the field.

– I feel calmer, – she admitted that evening.

Nettie only nodded and added:

– Running is fine. But first, know why you're running.

The soldiers respected her. Some even feared her a little. But everyone knew: if anything went wrong – Nettie would be there. And if it wasn’t butterflies in your belly but a thunderstorm of porridge – she’d fix it.

Cinderella often said of her:

– I have a giant, a scout, a fairy, and a tactical genius. But if the heart of the battalion gets sick – Nettie will get it back on its paws.

The Story of Peter the Rooster – the Army-Grade Alarm Clock

In Cinderella’s battalion, no one feared enemies – everyone feared sleeping through reveille. Because reveille was called by Peter: a proud rooster with officer’s epaulettes, a uniform the color of ripe cherries, and a voice that could scrape rust off horseshoes from a mile away.

Each morning, he flew up to the watchtower, took a deep breath, and shouted:

– COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOO!

RISE AND SHINE, PAWS SHOULDER-WIDTH APART!

DON’T FORGET TO CLEAN YOUR BEAKS!

…and tails, if you’ve got one!

His crowing didn’t just wake the soldiers – it woke nearby trees, mushroom colonies, crow nests, and once even started the mess hall samovar by accident.

Even Alangazar, a giant, would cover his ears with a rug. Fox hid under the blanket and played dead. The cat tried setting his own alarm one minute before Peter, purely for hearing preservation.

But no one denied it: Peter was the best alarm clock in military history.

Once, he was asked not to crow – there was a secret night drill. Peter silently agreed. In the morning, he didn’t crow. Instead…

…he tapped out a march with his beak on a pot lid.

– TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP!

Regulation wake-up!

If you oversleep – you march in your pajamas!

– That rooster’s louder than a cannon, – Cinderella smiled, stepping out of HQ. – But thanks to him, our army’s always on time.

Peter snorted:

– What matters most is waking up on time. Even if you’re a mare, a snail, or the commander herself.

The Story of Swiftpaw the Mouse – the Battalion’s Quietest Hero

If someone lost something – a button, a letter, a sock – everyone knew who to ask. Swiftpaw, the scout-mouse, was not just the fastest, but the most observant in Cinderella’s battalion.

Her paws moved so fast they left trails of smoke. She wore an invisibility hat (which was often forgotten during group photos), carried a cheese backpack, and had a map of all secret paths – even the ones beneath the kitchen cupboard.

Her missions included:

sneaking into a nearby camp to steal top-secret cookies;

eavesdropping on crow spies in the trees;

delivering chocolate to Cinderella before Alangazar devoured the rations.

Once, she was tasked with delivering a battle map during drills. Problem was – the map was twice her size.

But Swiftpaw rolled it up, strapped it to her tail, dashed across railings, somersaulted over a bucket, leapt over the soup pot – and in three minutes, the map was with the commander.

– How’d you do that?! – gasped Fox.

– I just have swift paws, – she said modestly, cleaning her whiskers.

Sometimes she got tired. Then Nettie would prescribe: “One quiet evening. Watch the moon.” That was the hardest order for Swiftpaw.

Cinderella valued her deeply. She once joked:

– If I ever need to get a secret letter into the king’s paws within an hour – I won’t send a raven. I’ll send Swiftpaw. The letter will arrive sealed with cheese.

The Next Morning…

With the first rays of sun, while the whole regiment was still stretching and sipping cocoa, a loud signal rang out.

Lapka dashed out of headquarters, rustling a paper bag.

– Everyone, to formation! Urgent news from the border! – she squeaked. – Someone has stolen… Masha’s soup pot!

The bear roared:

– That wasn’t just a pot! That was my grandmother’s enamel soup tureen!

Alangazar was already pulling on his boots, the cat was yawning but marching, and even Bulka was screwing the nut on the alarm kettle as she walked.

Cinderella stepped onto the porch, serious and focused.

– Well then, soldiers. Looks like we have a new mission…

Alangazar’s Vacation

Alangazar, the giant from the military regiment, once took a month-long vacation and went home to fetch firewood. He went into the forest, gathered a big bundle of twigs, tied it up, and carried it on his back. The load was heavy, and he walked with his eyes on the ground.

That’s when he found a needle!

Carefully, he stuck it into the bundle so he wouldn’t lose it.

When he got home, he started rummaging through the firewood.

– What are you looking for? – asked his wife, Victoria.

– A needle, – Alangazar replied.

– You stuck it into the firewood?

– Yes.

– You should’ve pinned it to your clothes – then you wouldn’t have lost it, – said Victoria.

– Alright, I’ll do that next time, – he agreed.

The next day, Alangazar went back to the forest. This time, he found a scythe. Not wanting to lose it, he tied it to his clothes.

But the scythe kept slipping and tearing his shirt. By the end, all his clothes were shredded.

– You should’ve tied it to the firewood, – Victoria explained. – Like this, by the handle and to the bundle.

– Alright, I’ll do that next time, – nodded Alangazar.

On the third day, he headed to the woods again. On his way back, he saw a shepherd fast asleep in the grass while wolves were chasing his sheep.

Alangazar didn’t interfere. He ran home to ask for advice.

– Wolves are eating the sheep! And the shepherd’s asleep! – he panted.

– You should’ve shouted: “Wolf, you scoundrel!” – suggested Victoria.

– Alright, I’ll do just that! – he shouted and ran back.

But on the road, he stumbled into a protest. The crowd was noisy, police were arriving.

Alangazar, following his wife’s advice, raised his hands and shouted at the top of his voice:

– WOLF! YOU SCOUNDREL! SHAMELESS BEAST!

The police thought he was shouting at them.

They raised their batons and gave him a good beating. But they couldn’t interrogate him – he was too big for the cell.

Bruised and battered, he returned home.

– Why did the police beat you up? – Victoria asked, stunned.

– I only said “the wolf is a scoundrel.”

– You should’ve said “Good day to you” – she sighed.

– Next time I will…

The next day, Alangazar saw a funeral procession. People in black were carrying a coffin. He beamed and, just as taught, shouted:

– Good day to you! A joyful and happy one!

The people stopped. Glared. Then – one threw an egg, another a tomato, another a clump of mud.

Covered in stains, he came home.

– You should’ve said: “Such a sad day. My condolences…” – sighed Victoria.

– Alright, I’ll say that next time…

The next day, he walked by a wedding. The bride and groom were dancing, everyone celebrating.

Alangazar stepped up and solemnly said:

– Such a sad day. My condolences!

The guests gasped in horror. Then – one with a broom, another with a tin, someone else with a boot – all chased him off.

He hid behind a fence and thought:

– That’s it! Enough! No more advice. From now on – I’ll use my own head!

The next day, he went back to the forest. Sat on a branch, started sawing it off. A passerby shouted:

– Hey! You’ll fall with that branch!

Alangazar waved him off: “I’ve got my own way now!”

A moment later – the branch snapped, and he crashed down.

Sitting there, scratching his head and brushing off the leaves, he muttered: