Kyi, Shchek, Khoryv and Lybid - Ukrainian

The wind from the Dnipro River has always whispered stories to me, even before I had a name for the feeling it stirred in my heart. My name is Kyi, and I am the eldest of four. Long ago, my brothers Shchek and Khoryv, my sister Lybid, and I would sit on the river’s green banks, watching the water sparkle under the sun and dreaming of the future. We were part of the Polianian tribe, a proud people who lived freely in this beautiful land of rolling hills and ancient forests. But while our people roamed, I felt a deep longing for something more—a home, a place that would gather our tribe and stand as a beacon for generations. It was a shared dream that grew stronger each day, a quiet promise between the four of us. It wasn’t just an idea; it felt like a destiny calling to us from the land itself. Can you imagine feeling a pull so strong that you just know you have to build something magnificent. We knew we had to build something that would last forever. This is the story of how we answered that call, the legend of the founding of Kyiv.

One day, we decided the time for dreaming was over. It was time to build. We set out on a journey along the mighty Dnipro, searching for the perfect place to create our city. We looked for a sign, a piece of land that felt both strong and welcoming. After many days, we came across a breathtaking sight: a series of high, steep hills rising proudly over the river. They stood like natural guardians, offering protection and a perfect view of the lands all around. I looked at my siblings, and I saw the same recognition in their eyes. This was the place. As the eldest, I claimed the highest hill for our main settlement, a place that would one day be called Kyieva Hora, or 'Kyi's Mountain.' My energetic brother Shchek chose a neighboring hill that became known as Shchekavytsia, and my thoughtful brother Khoryv settled on another, which was named Khoryvytsia in his honor. “This hill will be my watchtower,” Shchek declared with a grin. “And mine,” Khoryv added quietly, “will be a place of wisdom.” Together, we began to build a small wooden fortress, a gathering place for our people. We called it Kyiv, a city named for me but built by all of us. Our dear sister Lybid, whose name means ‘swan,’ had a special connection to the water. A small, gentle river that flowed into the great Dnipro was named Lybid for her, so her graceful spirit would forever be woven into the lifeblood of our home.

Our small settlement grew into a great city. Kyiv became a bustling center of trade, a place where people felt safe and proud. For centuries after we were gone, parents told their children our story as they walked the very hills we had settled. They would point to Shchekavytsia, Khoryvytsia, and the Lybid river, and our legend became as real to them as the ground beneath their feet. Monks later wrote our story down in the great books called chronicles, so it would never be forgotten. This story gave the people of Kyiv, and all of Ukraine, a powerful sense of who they are and where they came from. It taught them that their home was founded not by a king alone, but by a family—brothers and a sister working together with a shared dream. To this day, artists paint pictures of us, poets write verses about our journey, and a beautiful monument of the four of us in a boat stands in the heart of the city we built. Our story is a reminder that great things begin with a vision and the courage to build it together. It shows that a home is more than just a place; it's a story that connects everyone, a legend that continues to inspire people to build their own bright futures.