Dedication:
This retelling of my second Svan tale, set in the silent Middle Ages, is dedicated to my dear friend Ramaz. He shared the original version with me and inspired me to write this story. Thank you, Ramaz.
Prologue:
Every year, as the snow on the Mountain Wall above Etseri village begins to melt under the summer sun, a figure appears on the near-vertical slopes. It is a man dancing, holding a banner that waves in the breeze. The villagers know the significance of this sight, passed down through generations. The fate of their village or part of Svaneti depends on which of the man’s limbs vanishes last. They wait and watch, knowing that interfering with this process can bring disastrous consequences.
The Snow Dancer:
One midsummer, Demetre and his friends from Etseri grew impatient with the waiting and decided to take matters into their own hands. They crossed the Enguri River and climbed up to the Mountain Wall, armed with shovels. Their plan was to cut off the Snow Dancer’s limbs, except for the one pointing to their village, in order to secure its prosperity.
But as they approached the Snow Dancer, a strange feeling came over them. They realized the gravity of their actions and stopped in their tracks. The Snow Dancer seemed to sense their intentions and began to dance even more vigorously, his banner waving with determination.
Realization:
Demetre and his friends understood that the Snow Dancer was not just a symbol of good fortune, but a guardian of the mountain and its people. They dropped their shovels and returned to their village, humbled by the experience.
The Fate of the Village:
As the summer days passed, the Snow Dancer gradually disappeared, his form melting and sublimating into the air. And when he was gone, the villagers looked to the Mountain Wall to see which of his limbs had vanished last. To their surprise, it was not the one pointing to their village, but the one pointing to a neighboring village.
The villagers of Etseri rejoiced, knowing that their neighbors would have a prosperous year. And they learned a valuable lesson – that nature cannot be controlled or manipulated, and that sometimes, the best course of action is to let things unfold naturally.
Epilogue:
From that day on, the villagers of Etseri respected the Snow Dancer and his dance, knowing that he held the fate of their village in his hands. And every year, as the snow melted and the Snow Dancer appeared, they watched with reverence and gratitude, knowing that he was a symbol of the mountain’s power and the guardian of their land.
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