Friedbert took a deep breath. For the first time in his life he would leave the forest in which he had grown up. But it was only natural that young birds spread their wings. Friedbert was no bird of course. He was a young man of sixteen years. He only knew the deepest forest, that realm of shadows covered by treetops in which no other man ever had set foot.

Gratefully he looked at the old woman who had taken him in as a baby and had raised him. This woman as old as the hills who he affectionately called his grandmother or rather Grohla was a buschweibchen, a wood sprite. Adalberga, such she was called, had taught the boy everything he knew and now she released him into a new life, with melancholy indeed but willingly nevertheless.

Those two, who had spent the last sixteen years together, at first glance looked as different as only possible. At one side there was the deeply hunched elderly woman, wrinkly, supported by a knobby cane, her feet mossy, the long disorderly hair as white as snow. Also she wasn’t taller than a four or five years old child, but despite her old age and her numerous afflictions her moss-green eyes still sparkled with love of life. On the other side was the amber-eyed young man. Strong, broad-shouldered, the hair bundled into a ponytail of black color. Of gigantic build, he was two and a half heads taller than an average man; he nevertheless had a gentle nature. What the two got in common was that they walked barefooted and that they wore clothes of spun green moss – Adalberga a dress, Friedbert trousers and a shirt.

“You will always have a home here.” The buschweibchen declared in a voice stifled with emotion. The granny was the only one who saw her grandson off. The will-o’-the-wisps with whom the boy used to be friends as a child had, redeemed by him, been sent to the afterlife long ago.

“Thanks, Grohla.” the giant replied, no less emotional.

“You surely have thought of everything?” she asked.

“I have.” he assured and pointed to the deerskin bag that he carried on his shoulder.

“Take care, dearie.” the old woman wished.

“Oh Grohla!” the grandson moaned. He surely knew that she meant no harm but being referred to as dearie to this very day was nevertheless too embarrassing for him.

After they had kept silent for some time again, Adalberga said: “Now go ahead and get going! Elsewise we will still stand here the day after tomorrow.” Her broken voice revealed that it was difficult for her to choke back her tears but she wanted to see him off with a smile, not with tears. No matter how often she let children she had raised set out into the world in the last millennia, it always pulled heavily at her heartstrings.

“Yep, I’ll be off then.” Friedbert spoke now embarrassedly before he left with big steps. On the range of hills he turned around once more, the red and golden morning sun of a nice June day in his back, and waved for the last time at the elderly woman who stood in front of the hazel bush beneath which her subterranean dwelling was located. She returned the waving. Then the youth continued his way, now for good, and headed for the rising sun like for a promising future shining on him.

The dark town walls of Dulnitz rose high into the clear sky. The town that had become prosperous through mining showed everyone from afar that it also knew to defend its prosperity. Since Count Degenhard von Dulnitz, the previous Lord of the town, had lost his title, his seigneury, and his life for conspiring against the crown and black magic seven years ago, a new golden age had dawned upon the capital of the previous county under the rule of royal governors. The crowd of people who were drawn to the rich town was accordingly large. If nobody stood out entirely the guards at the town gate simply waved him through. Even Friedbert – on his way in the kingdom of Waldbergen since several weeks and thus used to the sight of other people by now who altogether just reached up to his chest at most – was allowed in without objection in spite of his eye-catching build. Probably it was because he literally looked like a backwoodsman as he gazed at the town’s fortifications with an open mouth. The hustle and bustle within the town walls impressed him no less.

Finally the giant remembered what he had intended to do. He needed money to find lodging. His grandmother had explained to him that money was of utmost importance with humans. Nobody accepted the few ancient coins she had given him as travel money though. They simply were out of use for centuries and thus invalid, even when they still could be bartered for their value as raw materials. As such the young man had earned bread and lodging as a healer while he travelled through the countryside. He had learned the art of healing from Adalberga who was very proficient with it as a buschweibchen. His skills and knowledge had even convinced those doubters who didn’t want to believe that the brawny giant was actually a healer.

In town, however, Friedbert at first chose another method of money raising which the old woman advised him to use too. He entered an apothecary – whereat he had to stoop deeply to pass through the low door frame at all – and walked up to the counter.

“With what medicine I can help you?” an old grey-haired man with a big drooping mustache wanted to know.

“I’m not here to buy but to sell.” the youth declared.

The gigantic young man was eyed skeptically by the apothecary.

Friedbert preferred to let his goods speak for themselves. He reached into his deerskin bag and fetched three blue flowers which he handed to the man behind the counter.

The man’s eyes dilated in disbelief. “That… Isn’t that by any chance…?” he stammered.

“The blue flower neversore.” the giant answered the unfinished question.

“Where?!” the apothecary shouted in shock “From where have you got this?” He never had thought to ever be able to hold the legendary medicinal herb in his own hands.

“From the deepest forest.” Friedbert replied.

The elderly man appeared to be hardly able to believe what he heard. “I’ll give you five, no, seven, no, ten gold coins!” he exclaimed. No offer seemed to be high enough for him.

The youth accepted the trade immediately. He didn’t know how much ten gold coins were worth but he knew that gold counted as more valuable than the copper coins he had to deal with up to now.

Both the old and the young man were pleased when they parted. Friedbert couldn’t surmise yet that he had found an important ally for his upcoming days as a healer in Dulnitz. The word of old Ortwin counted for much with the healers and apothecaries of the town.

Friedbert had been living in Dulnitz for three weeks now. June gave way for July. The young man lately was a lodger at the place of a grocer’s widow with two children, a ten year old daughter and a six year old son, and had already gotten a certain reputation as a healer. His ointments and tinctures made in the manner of a buschweibchen oftentimes were more effective than all what human arts of healing were capable to do.

One evening there was a commotion in the house of Friedbert’s landlady. Her son, the little Willebrecht, had vanished without a trace by day. His big sister Dietlinde who was at the pond with him during the day only had noticed the accident when it already had happened. The grocer’s widow was shocked to such an extent that she was too far gone to do anything. The girl had withdrawn to the attic with grief and self-reproach. Admittedly Willebrecht was nowhere near the first child who had disappeared without a trace never to appear again.

When the gigantic healer learned of the misfortune, a thought struck him immediately. “Mrs. Hildegunde.” he approached the widow “I guess I know what happened to Willebrecht. I almost experienced something of the sort when I was small. If we hurry we may even still be able to save him.”

Of course there was great joy with mother and daughter.

Soon afterwards they stood at the bank of the pond where the boy was seen for the last time. The waterbody, which was popular on hot summer days especially with the children, was situated still within the town walls in an area used rather agriculturally. Here many families of Dulnitz had their vegetable gardens and chicken coops, as widow Hildegunde and her children had too.

When Friedbert took a look at the pond with its bottom completely covered with a dense forest of water plants, his suspicion grew stronger. He stripped unashamed, only keeping on his underwear, and jumped into the water without hesitation. The wet element still was comparatively warm after a long summer day even if the evening sun didn’t contribute much to its temperature any longer. The youth was glad that he had learned to swim as a child, albeit not from his grandmother but his will-o’-the-wisp friends. Deeper and deeper he advanced into the tangle of lake plants. The stalks of waterlilies and water-crowfoot obstructed his path, hornwort and water-milfoil wound themselves around his legs but he didn’t let it stop him.

The destination gradually came in sight when the giant was beginning to lose his breath. Amidst the proliferating green underwater forest towered a palace built from transparent crystal that wasn’t necessarily big – more a kind of larger house with turrets and bays – but exceedingly grand instead though. Friedbert approached this building glowing by an inner power. The gate was wide open and so the young man entered freely. Inside of the abode there was breathing air he inhaled gratefully. It wasn’t his first time in such an underwater palace. Thus the healer knew pretty much what he had to look for. As quietly as possible he sneaked through the corridors of this flamboyant residence glowing in cold splendor. He didn’t want to catch the attention of the Master of the house earlier than necessary.

Eventually he came to a large room in the center of the building. A big, well-burning masonry heater with numerous covered little pots on its mantelpiece could be seen through the transparent walls. In those jars, Friedbert knew, the Master of the palace stored the souls of his victims that he needed to keep up the barrier with which the water was kept outside and the air kept inside the palace. On the floor of the room there lay a boy unconscious at first glance, the chestnut-brown hair drooping with water, the freckled face oddly pale. A green-haired little man fumbled around with him. Friedbert who identified the boy as Willebrecht stormed into the fireplace room without further delay and grabbed the small man at his long green hair. The vodník, for it was that kind of water sprite, looked in surprise with big green eyes at the unexpected intruder before he began to scream bloody murder. Lifted at his hairs by the giant he looked no different than a jumping jack though. Generally, the vodník seemed to prefer the color green. Thus his stockings and frock-coat were also of a color as green as the rushes. From his right coattail dripped water which formed a little puddle on the crystal floor over time.

“Who are you and what do you want from me?” the water sprite complained.

“Not much.” Friedbert replied “I only want to take back my little fiend Willebrecht over there. Leave me, the boy, and his family in peace in the future and you won’t ever see me nor hear of me again. Unless you require my services as a healer. Should you have already taken the soul from the boy though, then I will promise you that I will turn your home into a pile of shards.”

“He still has his soul!” swore the vodník with his hands waving about “As true as I am called Radoslav, the boy still has his soul. Take him and go. I won’t take revenge.” Although he was otherwise of a more irritable temper, Radoslav didn’t dare to rebel against the giant. There was something about the young man that made his blood run cold. He couldn’t know the young man was the son of the wild huntsman Wode, a powerful and malicious fallen god. Even Friedbert had only learnt about it just before his departure. This half divine, half demonic heritage explained why the youth could do a lot which was beyond the capabilities of ordinary people.

With a pleased nod the gigantic healer took note of the vodník’s acceptance, dropped him carefully – he had no further reason to behave hostile to the water sprite any longer – took the unconscious boy in his arms and started back. Radoslav still remained taken aback and only after a long time he managed to regain his composure. Even many years later this short event should still send shivers up and down his spine.

Hildegunde and Dietlinde hardly believed their eyes when the giant emerged from the clear pond water with the missing son and brother in his arms. Friedbert immediately put down his pale load at the water’s edge and started resuscitation procedures. They were successful. Willebrecht began to cough and to vomit water before he finally opened his eyes like after a long sleep. The chubby red-haired mother and her slim brown-haired daughter lunged upon the boy come back to life straight away and downright buried him in hugs and kisses while they nearly drowned him a second time with their tears of joy.

The successful rescue had brought Friedbert luck too, for Hildegunde made him pay only the half sum of rent in future out of gratitude – she couldn’t do completely without the rent though because as a widow she needed every possible source of income. Thus the gigantic healer kept staying as a lodger in the household of the grocer’s widow where he was welcome, and could also await a bright future jobwise, especially as the story spread that Friedbert had brought back Willebrecht from the brink of death. So this rescue only had brought good for the gentle giant in the end.