Spring came to Rus’ after autumn and winter. The fields turned dark with thawing patches; birds returned at midday; buds broke through on the trees.
Young prince Ivan and Yarymir the Gray Wolf returned home as well—not alone, though. They came back with a great prize: a stone egg that keeps the death of Tsar Kasyey himself. It keeps it securely—though, truth be told, the egg can’t be broken, can’t be split. Whether it exists or not—what difference? Perhaps the answer lies in Kasyey’s Realm—now that the friends’ path leads there, toward the sunrise, into the dark forests and swamps.
But Kasyey the Immortal doesn’t sit idle. Having gathered an army beyond number and immense strength, he marches on a great war toward the sunset, to bring villages and fields to flames. Doom comes from the sunrise—misfortune for the Russian people, for all of humanity. Death of all living things draws near, and the good fairy tale ends.
Heck. Heck. Heck.