Stories for intermediate-level students, equivalent to CEFR B2.
One day, the King and Queen had a beautiful daughter. Her birth was easy, but still, the room filled with shocked cries when she came out. Why? She had no scars, extra limbs or unusual marks, but in her tiny hand she held a wooden house, in the traditional Thai style.
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There was a knock at the door, and Rhiana slowly climbed down the stairs. She didn’t have high hopes for Beelzebuddy’s success, but she certainly wasn’t expecting to open the door and find her ex-lover standing there.
Panic seized her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick.
‘Go away!’ she spat, slamming the door shut before Evelyn could say a word.
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‘Why, hello there! I’m Beelzebuddy, or “Buddy” for short! And I am very short… At your service. No spill, no stain, no mess is too much for me to clean! Just give me a cloth and a bucket and I’ll get right to work!’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Rhiana. ‘I don’t need you to clean. I need you to get rid of some nasty people—and a dog—from my life.’
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One day, Dai received a gift from his sister: it was a pot of lamp oil. Over the next few weeks, as Dai used the pot, he noticed it had a strange quality. No matter how much oil he used, the pot was always full the next day.
That night, Dai lay down in bed, but he was so excited he could not sleep. He stared up at the pot on his shelf and daydreamed.
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But there was one thing that Zelda could never do. Morg had felt her confusion, as they had shared the kiss. The magic could change Morg’s appearance, but it could not change the way her body felt. Zelda had felt her heavy arms, her sharp bones and rough skin, and she had moved away in surprise.
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‘You wicked boy!’ they spat. ‘I raised you, I gave you everything you needed, and you disobeyed me!’
‘I did not,’ said Mortimer, smiling wickedly. ‘You stood at the head of his bed, and so the King was supposed to survive.’
Death raised a bony finger at Mortimer. ‘If you ever trick me again, it will mark the end of your life.’
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Once upon a time, there was a land where the sun never set. Every hour of every day, it shone bright and hot. The people of this land lived in huge cities, where everyone who walked down the street held a parasol. All the parasols pressed together and formed a wall that blocked out the sun, and yet, the people still felt its heat. At night, they covered their windows with thick curtains, and yet, they still felt its light. Whatever they did, they could not escape the sun, and gradually, they came to hate it.
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Once upon a time, there was a forest far away from the rest of humankind. In this forest, there lived mice, birds, rabbits and so on, but this was no ordinary forest.
The King of the Forest was a stag, who had wandered there after being thrown out from his family. Growing up, he was a weak, sad child, and when his horns emerged they were bent and broken. His family rejected him, sending him away from their home to find his own way in life. So he found a forest where the animals appreciated him, and soon he was so popular that they made him king.
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Today I will tell you the tale of a time when the world lived in harmony and justice, when the gods rarely interfered in human affairs.
In the faraway, endless steppe to the east of the Danube lived many warring tribes. Among these, the most powerful was the royal family of Scythia. All other nations feared and respected them, as they were undefeated in battle. It was thought that everything they touched turned to gold, and that they even gave golden tools to their farmers.
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