Café Eòlas Library
A selection of stories one might find on the shelves of Café Eòlas...
The written stories below are a collection of stories written by staff and patrons of our café. We also have provided a link to a free online library to peruse at you leisure.
Table of Contents
Luluci
By: Lil' Storyteller // tumblr
Once upon a time in a land not too far away, in a time not too long ago there lived a young lalafellin girl. Her name was Luluci, she had bright orange hair and sweet pink eyes, freckles dusted her cheeks and she was quite happy. She was her village's local healer, having learned the trade from her mother.Now Luluci’s mother had died some 5 years before the time our story began. A mysterious illness took her mother suddenly when the child was not yet 18 summers old. None of the chirugeons in the city could name the illness when they examined the mother. There was no solace to be found in putting a name to what took her.Despite losing her mother so young Luluci was raised to be resilient. And she recovered from the emotional blow in time and learned to carry on.Her favorite time of the year was the fall. When all the leaves of the Shroud turned color. Traveling through to get medicinal herbs from the botanist guild was alway a great source of joy for her. And it was during one of these trips that our story really begins.Luluci was not the type to jump at shadows, but something felt heavy in the air. She felt that unmistakable feeling of being watched.No. Of being hunted.She had a feeling in her gut that this was not the day to dawdle in the woods. She picked up her pace to a brisk walk hoping to run into another traveler or a woodwailer if luck would have it. There was no such luck this day, for nary a soul besides her own was on the road. Even more eerie was that there was not even a beast or creature to be heard. Utterly alone, with just the sound of her own boots to show she had not gone deaf.The trees stood deathly silent. Not even the elementals seemed to be with her.Eyes fixed on the road ahead of her she darted forward to narrowly escape the jaws appearing from thin air. With singular pursuit the dark creature lunged after her, perturbed it missed its prey. The foul creature gave off a stench of rot and decay, its hot breath felt on her back as it gained ground on her. Its guttural growls and hisses filled her ears, almost drowning out the sound of her own panicked breathing.Closer, it came.Closer…Closer.And then it was upon her.Not a soul to hear her scream.An errant root caught her boot and she fell into a tumble off the road into the stream that ran alongside. Luluci tried to stand but her leg was injured in the fall. She reached at her hip for her mother’s codex to find it missing from its holster.She desperately searched the water around her for the tome. A glint from a rock that peeked out of the water caught her attention. It was her mother’s soul stone dislodged from the codex’s cover.She reached for it, desperation sitting like a pit in her stomach. The stone glowed in response to her soul’s plea, with a brightness unseen since her mother’s passing. It summoned forth the slumbering faerie within.Selene.As the faerie opened its eyes for the first time in five years, they watched in horror as the monster loomed over their friend’s only daughter. They both reached for each other in vain.It was too late.But fret naught my dear reader! I have it on good authority that little Luluci survived that dreadful encounter just fine. Albeit a bit changed for it.“But how do you know?” you might be wondering.Well you see, my dear, reader:Once upon a time in a land not too far away, in a time not too long ago, there lived a young lalafellin girl. Her name was Luluci, and that girl…Was me.That beast tried to devour me.But little did it know, my appetite for living was stronger.
Lamp Oil
By: Cosplay Addict
In the lighthouse I grew up in, it was impossible to not feel the isolation living off shore brings. The water's constant sound as it crashed against the old worn stone of the tower blocked any noise from the shore. We also always had to carefully plan basic things like grabbing everyday supplies, visiting loved ones, and anything else that required leaving the battered island, but this feeling of isolation turns into reality whenever there is a Storm. During a storm everything stops, and that is your focus until it has passed.Growing up, my parents had many rules you needed to live by to stay safe.- Many of them were common sense rules, don't leave candles burning when you’re not around. Don’t go outside during a storm, never take the boat out alone. But there was always one rule that had no real purpose, but was strictly enforced. The only person that was allowed up in the lantern gallery was my father,
Father would always do his best to maintain the beacon during the day. But on the nights he had to do maintenance, he would come storming down the stairs, slamming the hatch behind him. My father normally never drank, but after those nights that he had no other choice but to go up, he would always find comfort in his stash of whiskey.
The one and only time I had ever needed to go up there and break the most important rule was during a bad storm. Dad was Extremely ill, and my mother had gone ashore to get medicine. Then the worst happened, like it always tends to do, and the Beacon went out.
It would require me to restart the beacon again, I had to fetch Oil from our storage.as we forgot to fill up the reservoir, a task usually carried out only by my parents. As I carried the oil up the stairs, my anxiety grew, my father's words rang in my mind like a haunted whisper. It’s all in your head…. as I climbed the warped worn stones steps up the multiple levels. What was waiting for me that would drive my father to drink?
Once I finally reached the lantern gallery a chill ran down my spine and I knew I was not alone.There over by the burnt out wick hovered a tall sailor, with only one arm, and no legs. He turned on me with his mouth wide open. Screeching He closed in on me instantly, grabbing my neck. I felt his hands on me but strangely I could still breathe… , he keeped shrieking, demanding that I leave. Between the storm’s endless pounding on the windows, and his shriek I had no time to think about it. .I screamed, almost dropping the oil, running toward the carousel passing through the sailor.My hands shook violently as I carried out the task of filling up the reservoir, and using the tender box to light the wick for the beacon all while he kept trying to steal the breath from my lungs. He had given up on trying to choke me and resorted to what I can only assume was a knife. I was too terrified to look. I felt something plunging into my back over and over again. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. It felt as if an ice spike was slicing through my entire body , but I at least knew it was all in my head. That was all my dad was able to get out in his delirious state . “It’s all in your head”. It just kept repeating in my mind, trying to push away all the pain this fallen sailor was inflicting.Finally, after what seemed like hours of effort and work, the carousel was sent spinning once again, flooding the glass cage with spinning brilliant light.
I rushed to the door to leave and the screeching suddenly stops… and all I hear is a faint whisper “Thank you for the light, do not return.”
A crack of lightning fills the room with blinding brilliant white light, but when it's gone I see four silhouettes each with the same outline of their matching hats. Closing the hatch to the lantern gallery, it feels like what was once a deafening roar of water and wind has returned to a far more bearable level. My hands still shaking, freezing to my very core.
I returned to our living quarters shaking and soaked in a cold sweat. I went to check on my father. In his state of delirium, he only said one thing to me. “It is under my desk, drink as much as you need and sit by the fire, it will help you feel better.”Under his desk was a hatch that hid a small stash of bottles of whiskey. Drinking it helped, but it would take days for that chill to finally leave me. That was the last time I ever let the oil dry up again.
Kingdoms
By: Ser Sorrel
Good and evil, concepts that are forever lasting, that shall always remain. One cannot exist without the other, as balance must be ensured for causality. But if such things worked unison, what then could we achieve?It all begins in a time where good and evil did such. The five distinctive lands of the world, all of different beliefs chose to work together to chase a bigger dream...than either of them could've ever wished for.The most powerful of them are from the Land of Passion. They're a wicked, evil, and dark society, seeking only to gain power through selfish acts of war. They're rather large in stature, and usually outfitted in abyss black armor. The king is the greatest general in the world, having won more battles than any other.The most pure of them all are from the Land of Harmony. They are a peaceful society, sages who only seek happiness and prosperity, though they are not blind to the consequences of war. A staple for them are their robes and shiny armor. Their king is rumored to be immortal, said to have lived for untold generations offering wisdom and experience for every era.The most secretive of them all are from the Land of Honor. Having sustained many civil wars, this land was divided and spiteful, but most of all accustomed to war. They were swift and precise for maximum efficiency in quick and decisive skirmishes. Their king was a lonely and wandering man, going from battle to battle killing many warriors in his search for meaning, which he eventually found as king.The most barren and ancient of them all are the Land of Sorrow. The stench of blood forever looms upon this forsaken land filled of ruins and corpses. Undead still walk all the same, many of whom are mercenaries with very few still loyal to their lords. The 3 kings are brothers, each representing beasts being the Lion, the Bear, and the Wolf.
Lastly, the fearless of them all, the Land of Pride. A tribal society, dedicated to victory. They possess the most diverse skillset, rivaling the Land of Shadows in hand to hand while possessing the most proficient archers in the world, donned in colorful painted armor. Their queen is a righteous warrior, being the world's prominent staple of a hero.A rather hopeless world, filled with nothing but death and destruction, was united by someone from the shadows..with power rivaling that of a God. Under their guidance, the world will know peace...and together, they will conquer the stars...
The Wishing Lily
By: Miyu Murasame
There is a certain bittersweet beauty in finding a flower growing where all odds appear against it. There’s an admirable tenacity of the flower. All factors say it was never meant to grow here, but the flora fought to spread its petals to the sun. But the flower is doomed to bloom. A lone flower may have taken root in an unlikely area, but it may be an unfulfilling, lonely and short victory.It was among the strangling weeds and brambles did a rare wishing lily bloom. Despite the rumors of a millennia of lifespan, it is rare that they are found. All that's known is its appearance of a lavender hue, it came in bundles of 12, and how each petal of the exceptional flower had wish granting properties.But this wishing lily was alone. Alone among the weeds, prodding thorns, and beneath the searing rays of the sun. The moment the lily’s petals unfurled, it knew of its fate. Alone and terrified, knowing it would not live the full lifespan of a wishing lily. The lily could only stare at the sun and wait.But something unusual would occur. An elderly traveler got lost on his trail, and had stumbled across a path often avoided for its ruthless nature.“Dear traveler, please help me, and I will grant you a wish,” the lily sang out to the traveler. “I don't wish to die like this. I’m alone, and weak from the sun. This is no place for me. Please, take me from the ground and bring me to a more robust soil. Perhaps then, I can be planted and find my kind once more” And so the traveler dug the lily up from the ground, placing it in a bowl for the time being. Just as the lily permitted, he ate one petal. And as he had wished, the man regained his youth.“Now I am more fit for travel,” the man declared, “and I will take you to more robust earth, where you will not be disturbed.”With that promise, they traveled through the desert. They would whisper music to each other, along with the lily hearing of tales from the man’s travels. The lily’s health was waning, but at least it found some comfort in no longer being alone.“How much longer until we find the ground we seek?” The lily asked one night.“Not much longer now,” the traveler assured. “Perhaps, if you would allow, I could wish for a more sturdy carriage, so we may travel faster? I promise, it is a final wish.”And so the lily allowed the wish, obtaining a sturdy carriage in his request. But it wouldn’t be the last time he took a wish from the lily. The subsequent wishes came without asking. Following from youth and a carriage came riches, strength, a kingdom of his own – each one plucked from the ever fading wishing lily.And so the traveling ceased. The king kept the lily in an ornate bowl in his chambers. Being with only one petal left, the young man had affixed petals of gold to the wilting head. “I am afraid, and I do not want this anymore. I do not recognize myself anymore,” the lily pleaded to be released. “I have only one wish, and then there is no more use of me. Please, allow me to have this one part of me – and set me free.”“I give you gold and gems, a status. I saved you from the treacherous ground myself, and you wish to go back?” The king would boom in response. “It is not your petals which grant me wishes, but it is within you. You owe me this, and you will allow me my wishes, and I will keep you as my own.”With the final petal ripped from the lily, he wished it into a beautiful bride of his own kind. A being ripped from its vessel and its connection to the spirits of the elements, the lily was trapped in its flesh. No longer could they feel the ground breathe beneath them, or the whispering songs of the Twelve in the winds.The bride was mortal now, with only her wish granting properties being the only semblance of what she once was.And so the King kept his Queen for some time, until the distraught bride fled into the wilderness one night. The King sent thousands of his army to search for her for many weeks. All they found of her, in the depths of a cavern, was her lavender robes and gems… nestled among a bundle of 12 wishing lilies.
Of Things That Are
By: Fiora
There exists a realm, nestled between dreams and fate, with islands made of memories, where waves wash calmly across the sand, leaving behind bits of stardust in their wake. For what separates the islands consisted not of water, but of stars, soft clouds floating gently across their surface. Among the stars was something of deep, bright purple, thicker than water, but just as fluid.The islands are home to a sprinkling of buildings, some as museums, others as temples, and still more in various other designs, each unique to the owners of the memories housed within. Travel between islands is done through intricately carved stone archways, with detailed stone halls unseen from the outside, the walls and ceilings periodically broken by pillars and lights. The islands are also home to lush trees and plant life. Trees that extend towards the heavens, and brightly coloured flowers that are always in bloom even in the everlasting night, while the moon coats the land in a soft white.The seas extend as far as the eye can see, meeting the swirling stars above, as the night sky does upon a clear lake in the waking realm. Moonlight dances upon the surface gently, adding to the speckling of stars above and below the surface. The water moves calmly, eerily quiet in this dreamlike place.Sink below the water, and one will meet with The Mother of Fate, Her hair made of light and Her inky-black body dusted with stars. All that adorns Her is a black, thorn-like tiara upon Her head and a long, flowing cape filled with swirls of blue lights. Her unblinking eyes extend forever in a vast sea of shimmering light; She looks like the very universe, both terrifying and beautifully welcoming, all at once.The Mother of Fate oversees the destinies of all who are within Her reach. While She cannot leave Her realm Herself, She has a champion that She sends in Her stead to keep the fates of the worlds within Her reach on track; a woman with pale blue hair and soft lavender eyes. If you find yourself on the opposing side of this woman’s blade, know that your retribution is coming…Short of receiving an invitation from the Mother Herself, there is but one way to make the journey here for yourself; you must dream. Dream, and take control of yourself. Walk until you find the shimmering tear in the fabric that separates your dream realm and the realm between dreams and fate. Should you wander into this realm yourself, perhaps you can meet with the Mother of Fate. Perhaps you can inquire about your own future. However, whether She will answer you is, well, up to Fate.
Tea Party
By: Lil' Storyteller // tumblr
An elaborate tea set adorned the table. Much too fancy for any normal child’s playtime, thought the doll. But this wasn’t a normal child the doll sat with, this was a child of ul’dahn nobility. A merchant’s daughter. The doll had been tasked with keeping her company while the adults took the adventurer the doll traveled with to the warehouse that needed clearing out. Someone let a few spriggans in, and it really put a halt to their business. Better to entertain the child, safe at home, than bring her somewhere she would get hurt. Since the child took a liking to the doll she refused to stay if the doll went, so it was tea time for the doll.The child was talking without end, not that the doll could respond. The doll had no voice of its own, or perhaps simply didn’t know how to speak. The child was happy to prattle on, and delighted when the doll would nod or tilt its head to what she was saying. The doll was made with an understanding of language, easier to give tasks to something that understands what you’re saying. The child poured some pretend tea for herself and the doll. The doll picked up the cup and mimicked the child’s motions of drinking the tea. The child opened one eye observing the doll in action.“You know.” The child started, setting down her cup. “Dolls are meant to be playthings.”The doll didn’t understand the comment, that is not what the doll was made for. The doll was a weapon made to defend, and be given small tasks in between. The child stood up and circled the table over to the doll. She was clearly inspecting the doll, noting every sign of adventuring. Dirt on the doll’s cheek, a grass stain on the apron, a small hole in the stocking.“Dolls, like you, are supposed to have tea parties with children, like me,” the child said haughtily. “And when playtime is done you would sit prettily on the shelf with the other dolls.”The child gestured over to the shelf filled with dolls and other toys not invited to the tea party. The doll looked over at the lifeless toys. The doll didn’t want to sit unused on a shelf again. The doll protested, shaking its head no.“No? What do you mean no?” the child scoffed, “That adventurer you came with clearly doesn’t take good care of you! Look at you, you're filthy! I would be a much better friend to you.”This made the doll. . . angry? The doll has never felt that before, or anything of note for that matter. The doll understood what anger was, what feelings were, but never felt it before. But there was no time to ponder that, for how dare this child insult the doll’s friend! The one who activated the doll after so long abandoned? The one who showed the doll a world outside of the library.“No. . .”The child’s eyes grew wide, “What did you say? I didn’t know you could-”The door to the chambers opened, the parents and the adventurer returned. The doll hopped off the chair and trotted to the adventurer’s side. The doll placed herself slightly behind the adventurer and stared pointedly at the child. The child looked dumbfounded at the doll while the parents and adventurer concluded their business. As the adventurer left with the doll the parents turned their attention to the child.“Did you enjoy your tea party my dear?”The door closed before the doll could hear the child’s response. The doll walked next to the adventurer in silence for a while. As they got to the gates of the town the doll grabbed the adventurer’s skirts and looked up at her, their friend.“I love you. . .”The adventurer looked shocked at the small voice coming from their long silent companion. But that soon faded and was replaced with a gentle smile.“I love you too Dolly.”
In the Woods
By: Lil' Storyteller // tumblr
Some may have heard of Little Luluci. The girl attacked by a monster, but emerged the victor. Well, it wasn’t as cut and dry as that.After the attack she struggled to keep her mind her own. The voidsent trying to wrest control from her, a battle of wills. A battle she would have surely lost, had it not been for a lost little miqo’te child.The miqo’te had light tanned skin, lavender hair, and bright teal eyes. She was as small as Luluci, which said much of the child’s young age. Luluci watched her wander around from the vantage point she had in the tree she rested in. The child called out for her mother and father. Surely this child’s parents would come for her soon. It would be hard not to hear the child’s cries, she was terribly noisy. She’ll simply follow the child from up high in case any danger presents itself.The sun that had been high in the sky when she started observing the child began to set. Luluci became concerned that maybe she was not just lost. And with the night came predators that would surely descend on an easy meal such as this. She would have to approach the child now to better keep her out of danger.Luluci jumped down from her perch on top of a rock the miqo’te sat against. She barely made a sound when she landed but the child’s ear twitched and she suddenly scrambles away and turns to face what landed behind her.“Wh-who are you?” asked the child in a small, scared, voice.“Don’t fret, I’m a friend.” Luluci tried to sound reassuring.The child squinted at her, not quite convinced. “Why were you up in the tree?”“Can’t a girl climb a tree just for fun?” Luluci was a terrible liar.“I used to climb huge rocks at home.” The child said, satisfied with the answer. Maybe this would be easier than Luluci thought.“My name is Luluci, what’s yours?”“P’nelope.” she answered while tilting her head trying to decide on what to make of this strange lalafel.“Hey, do you like stories?”P’nelope’s ears flicked up in excitement. That got the child’s attention.Luluci stayed with the child telling her stories until the child fell asleep, using Luluci’s shoulder as a pillow. Luluci patted the child’s head softly. Luluci reached into her pocket and pulled out her mother’s soul crystal. Holding it close to her chest she summons forth Selene.“Wake me if you see something?” Luluci was tired. Selene nodded to Luluci and she drifted asleep.In Luluci’s dream she looked down on herself and the child. They were in a forest not unlike the one she slept in but choked by a dark mist that encroached on her and the sleeping child beside her. She panicked reaching out to the pair but was held back by an unseen hand.Luluci woke up, looking for Selene, only to see that same dark mist but instead of coming from the forest, it was emanating from her. She looked up and saw the mist forming a hand holding the fairy at bay. Luluci’s defenses slipped and the darkness housed within broke through.She looked to the child and saw the dark mist started to engulf her as well. She was not going to let it. She went to disperse the mist like one would wave away smoke, but she found it to be much more tangible at her touch. So she pulled at it, tearing it away from the child, bit by bit. The child started to stir.“Mmm Lulu… What’s going on?”Tears gathered at the corners of Luluci’s eyes as the small voice called to her. “Go back to sleep Nelope, everything is going to be fine.”Luluci’s tears fell onto P’nelope’s face, fully rousing her from her sleep. Panic started to set in as she took in what was happening. She tried to grab at the mist like Luluci but it slipped through her fingers.“Wha- What is this?!”“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Luluci cried, unable to hold back the tears. She was a monster. She was going to hurt this innocent child, and she couldn't stop herself!She suddenly felt a thud on her chest.“Stop it! You don’t want to, so stop!” The child said while hugging Luluci tightly.The mist still swirling, stopped its encroach when the child shouted. Stunned, as was Luluci. As simple an idea as it was, the child was right. She just had to stop it.She embraced the child back. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.” She tried to pull herself together.She closed her eyes and calmed herself as best as she could and concentrated on reigning the darkness back in. It fought her but it receded from the child and let the fairy go. She grounded herself by holding onto P’nelope. She would not let this child be consumed like her.“Lulu… You’re squishing me…”P’nelope’s muffled voice caused Luluci to open her eyes again. She pushed the miqo’te out from her embrace. And looked over the child.“You’re not hurt are you?”“Mm-m” She shook her head no. “I’m just fine.”Luluci sighed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good.”She smiled at the child. She was safe, and Luluci was herself. Selene flitted over and rested on the lalafell’s head. She was also relieved for the pair. P’nelope once again hugged Luluci, snuggling into her, not the least bit scared anymore.“Hey. When the sun comes up, let’s find your family, okay?”“Okay” The miqo’te purred as she drifted back to sleep.
Unbreakable
By: Fiora Riven
Once upon a time, there was a little doll with light coloured eyes and deep, red hair. In the beginning, the doll’s skin was bright and her hair shiny. Her owners started off so strongly, taking care of her diligently. If only things could have stayed like that forever. . .However, as time passed, the caretakers fought amongst themselves, and often, took their residual anger out on the doll. They looked upon her as if she were simply a reminder of their failings; eyes full of disdain and anger often found their way to the doll, who’d done nothing wrong. Even the household around them began to show signs of disarray.Bit by bit, their happy life was falling apart. HER happy life was falling apart.The caretakers fell upon hard times. Money was scarce, a source of the quarrels. In their selfish desperation for survival, they took their doll to a mage in red robes, a man who had been rumoured amongst hushed tones to commit heinous experiments, but never anything that could be proven.And they sold her.The mage took the doll back to his fellows; a handful of mages, all adorned in thick coats with heavy hoods that obscured their features. The doll was small and afraid, wide eyes searching the darkness that had begun to close in on her for an escape.There was none.The first thing they took from her was her ability to break. They had plans for her, and needed her to remain intact and receptive. More and more they took from her; her sight, her joy, her sadness. . . Until she felt nothing. Could see nothing.
It would almost have been better to be back with the caretakers that looked upon her with hatred, who bruised her, who stained her face with tears. For at least she felt, even if everything she felt was bad. At least she was fed, if only barely enough to survive.. . . They sealed a monster inside of her. And then, they sealed her away in a cave until either she or the monster won.. . .She won.Or rather, the monster wore itself out, being unable to break her, until it was forced to rest within her. The mages came, then, to retrieve her. They branded her arm with runes to further seal the monster within. And they continued to experiment on her, to see if they could control the monster within.After countless experiments, they had only achieved failure. They had created an unbreakable doll who could not see, with a ticking time bomb of a monster inside that they could not control. Before the monster could break out and slaughter them all. . .They discarded her.Left in the streets, the sun bearing down on her, barely hanging on only because she could not break, she stayed there. Void, empty, hollow. . .Until she was found.This story doesn’t have an ending, yet. But the doll was taken in, accepted into a family that cares for her to this day. And, while the monster is still within her, aching to escape. . .It won’t win. The doll won’t let it win.
The Quiet Room
By: Miyu Murasame
To some, silence may be discomforting. The occasional pauses in a conversation are all too often deemed as an awkward weight, laden with an underlying tension, or a lingering apprehension of words not spoken. In the overflow of an extended silence, it can be drowning. Maddening.But to this creature, this suffocating air was one it had adapted to.Nameless, faceless, and shapeless.The creature had been contained in its enclosure for so long, memories of who it once was and who it's come to be were locked outside the walls with the rest of the world. But what did identity matter, if there were no new connections to string to the world and others around them?But there was one identity it had grown accustomed to: a Puppet. Only one beast held their strings, making the puppet dance in the little box for his entertainment. The puppet’s strings would tangle around itself until the puppet could dance no more.And when that Puppet wouldn’t dance, the Beast would release a monstrous roar and shake the box which held it. When the Puppet would hear the thundering footsteps approaching, it knew it would have to swiftly untangle it’s strings, lest it succumbs to the outbursts of the beast’s bellowing outrage.And so, the Puppet found comfort in the quiet.The quiet was predictable – it was safe.In the moments where the Beast wasn’t present, Puppet had only itself, the walls, and the silence. And it came to be enough. When you're alone in a room long enough, staring at the same walls long enough, the surroundings begin to change. Suddenly, a white canvas morphs into a splash of shapes and colors.These walls became a projector for the Puppet’s imagination. On one screen, it was soaring high among the clouds as a bird. On another, it was a single jewel on the finger of a wealthy debutante as she surveyed potential suitors at a ball.A rumble, and the screen would clear. Another dance.And then it was a knight barreling through the battlefield. A seamstress sweating over a delicately crafted dress for a dear sister.A roar. Another dance.And then it was the sun, and the moon, and the stars beyond. A single lily flower in the desert sand.
This would continue for some time, a cycle that it had learned to survive in. A thousand times over, the Puppet imagined a new life for itself. No longer did it wish to simply imagine.The Puppet untangled itself from the strings, with its numbed and worn limbs outstretched and prepared for a final performance for the loud Beast. A mesmerizing creature, hopping and skipping and moving with a frenzied grace on its cursed stage. And with its dance, the strings would wrap around the covetous Beast. He would bellow.And the Puppet had become a spider.The strings continued to twist as they danced. The roaring grew louder. The walls could barely hold together under the assault of the shaking quake of sound. They crumbled, and by the time the last brick hit the ground – a silence filled the air.It was nameless, faceless, shapeless. And now, stringless.But no longer trapped within the walls, Puppet could only go out into the world to form itself once more. Finally, the projections in its mind could be molded into something tangible.And yet, even with the strings gone, the Puppet continued to dance. Was it out of enjoyment? Survival? Perhaps, in a world so massive and loud, the familiarity of it was something it found comfort in.The world was filled with sound, but it was a beautiful noise. It was a music which Puppet was learning to adapt to. And perhaps, it was learning to find comfort in this new kind of sound.Still… Between the falling footsteps on the pavement, the whipping of leaves in the wind, and hidden among the cacophony of conversation… it was still present.Can you hear that rumble?
Tragedy at the Bridge
By: Punk Monk
Listen up my friends, because I have a story that might just save your life when you are traveling the mountains of Gyr Abania. This is a story of one of the many bridges in the mountains where I lived for a brief time.There’s this bridge that spans a gorge a couple hundred yalms deep, over a white water river that has jagged rocks that line the river bed and clash with the force of the river . The locals told me never to go to that bridge at night because a family died crossing the bridge in the storm long ago.If you go to the bridge early in the morning, before the usual traffic would disturb the dirt and dust, you can find footprints and chocobo tracks leading to where they fell. Some nights you can also hear the sound of a Chocobo carriage passing over it, then, the squall of the beast as it falls to its death, taking the family and all of their belongings to their watery grave.The locals told me ghosts of the mother and father haunt the area near the bridge, with soaking wet clothes that had been torn to pieces and limbs in wrong positions from them being smashed against the current and the rocks. These ghosts were the vengeful type, but had no one to blame but bad luck.So, they would drag any poor soul down to the river below to share in their fate. The locals blamed the ghosts for people disappearing in the mountains near the bridge.Even if it wasn’t storming, if you passed over the bridge at night you could feel the hands of somebody trying to grab you trying to pull you over the edge, and if you’re in a carriage, you will see a man and a woman trying to block your passage, trying to convince your beast to go over the edge as well.They will try to grab the reins, frighten the beast, or do anything in their power to have you join them in their watery graves in the rocks below. When the rain comes… well there’s no holding them back.On a clear day during the dry season, when the water gets real low, you can look over the sides of the cliffs and see the forms of multiple carriages that had fallen to their deaths and joined the family in their fate.”“And before you say “oh that’s just a story to scare people!” Or “the bridge is just dangerous at night it’s not ghosts!” Trust me cause I didn’t listen to the locals. And I saw em, on a bad stormy night… barely escaped with my life.”“Always listen to the locals.”
Lullabies
By: Lil' Storyteller // tumblr
Once upon a time, there was a lady knight fair. Beloved by the people she protected for her kindness. Respected by those she stood against for her strength. She was a shining beacon in the dark. But even she needed to rest.When she could she would steal a few moments of time, just for her, to visit a little secluded spot in the forest. A hidden enchanted spring that only made itself known to the Lady Knight. For the spring loved the Knight, her kind and gentle soul. But even the spring in all its tranquility couldn’t quiet her restless mind.The spring wanted nothing more than to bring the knight it loved peace.A traveling songstress sang to the birds as she walked through the forest. The forest fell in love with her song. The forest told the spring about her, to which the spring said “Bring her to me, my Knight deserves a love that can hold her close and sing her to sleep, so she may rest.”And so the forest led the songstress to the spring. It sent her small animals to pull at her skirts to guide her to the hidden path. The songstress headed her guides, and found her way to the spring. The spring called to her “Oh daughter of the Muses, please, come close. I must ask you a favor.”The songstress approached and tilted her head “Never before have I had the pleasure of being addressed by a grand spirit. Let alone be asked a favor by one.”“Maybe it won’t be the last. I need your help. Please sing a lullaby so sweet it would put even the most stubborn child to slumber.”“I can see what I can do, But might I ask why?” She sat by the edge of the water.“My Knight, she’s the most caring person I’ve met. She has such a big heart but it weighs heavy with all the worries of other’s she takes on. She needs to rest, but can’t quiet her mind,” the spring lamented. “Please, you must help ease her burdens as only a lover can.”“I’m not sure if my song would be enough for such a burden,” she said sadly. “I would hate to disappoint you or her.”The spring did not like that answer. How dare this songbird deny to sing! The spring would not take no for an answer! The spring had an idea…“Daughter of the Muses, mayhaps you would benefit from a sip of my waters. Pray, drink your fill.”The songstress nodded, she was quite thirsty. As she leaned in and as her hand touched the water the spring took hold. An icy cold arm reached up from the spring and grabbed her wrist. She was pulled in under the water, she thrashed trying to break free, but more arms grabbed at her holding her under.The spring filled her lungs, seeping into her very soul. If she would not sing, then she would be the spring’s vessel, and the spring would do it itself.The waters stilled, and the songstress was no more.The sun had started its descent when the knight visited the spring. She rested her greatsword against the grand tree near the waters as she usually did. She took off her boots and walked along a sturdy root that dipped into the water and sat down.“O spring I am here to visit once more, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she asked while looking into the waters below.“Not at all!” replied the spring. “Good knight, I actually was hoping you would come, for I have a surprise for you.”“For me?” The knight asked in surprise.“Yes, yes! Close your eyes, if you would. And whatever you do, don’t open them.” The spring bubbled.The knight did as the spring asked. She heard the water move for a moment. Then she heard singing. It was soft, sweet… haunting. The singing got closer, the ethereal voice becoming all she could hear. Then she felt a hand on her cheek, it was ice cold, as was the kiss that followed.The knight opened her eyes and pulled away from the creature before her. A ghostly pale woman with red eyes and long soaked curls that clung to her back and shoulders. Her lips were dark blue and her cheeks were gaunt. The creature smiled at the knight and tilted her head.“Is something the matter my dear knight?” asked the creature in a voice all too familiar to her.“Roslyn?” the knight asked, her voice barely a whisper.The creature’s eyes widened. “You knew us?”“‘Us’? What- Who are you?” she demanded, backing up towards the tree’s trunk.The creature nervously wranged its hands and looked everywhere, anywhere but at the knight. Panic setting into the creature’s gut, a new sensation, it never felt it before when they were simply the spring. This was not part of the plan, the knight was not supposed to know its vessel…“Answer me! Who are you?!” The knight demanded once more. And the creature snapped its attention to the knight.“We… we are the spring, and the daughter of muses.” The creature’s voice became distorted, as two voices overlapped. It approached the knight, a cold hand outstretched. “She became my vessel, so that we might bring you comfort. So that we can love you, as you deserve!”“You… you murdered her!”“No no, we became one! We needed to bring you happiness! And we couldn’t on our own, we had no means to embrace you. To sing to you. To love you, as you deserve!”The knight looked away, “So I deserve this? You murdered my betrothed!”The creature’s eyes went wide with shock. It didn’t know the knight was to be wed. The creature stumbled forward and clung to the knight’s shirt. It’s grip tightened as it began to wail, how could it have known? The spring only knew the knight's pain. It only knew the troubles the knight would lament at the water’s edge. Did it truly even know its beloved knight at all?The creature looked up at the knight and took her face in both of its chilling hands. As the creature smiled at the knight, a single tear rolled down its pale cheek. It leaned in close, blue lips brushed the knight’s ear as it choked out a pained whisper.“H- help… me Karissa.” The voice that spoke was Roslyn’s alone.The creature looked at the great sword against the tree trunk as a flicker of blue lit up its eyes. The knight looked at the sword and then back to the creature. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill over.“No… you can’t ask that of me…” the words caught in her throat.“I’m already gone.”The creature guided the knight's hand to the sword’s hilt. A symbol of her oath to protect the innocent, the downtrodden… and those she held dear. She was not there to protect her love, but she was there to release her from the torment she now endured. The creature smiled as the knight took hold of the hilt. A cold hand caressed the knight’s cheek.Tears flowed, the sword rose high, as the creature sang one last lullaby.
Legacy
Written By: Ro Valerius // Told By: Lil' Storyteller
The creature loomed above her, teeth bared as it crouched on all fours, growling low in its throat at her. Some kind of…almost wolf, but not quite, and twice her height. She met the furious red eyes evenly, not a trace of fear across her features, in her hand, gripped with confidence, was her scythe-Really, how much would she copy from that woman she had met so long ago? First her name, then her faeries, then her weapon? In her defense, she had been tasked with protecting the legacy the woman had left behind, and it consumed her every thought.Such musings did naught to quell the rage of the beast before her. Her eyes remained trained on the monster as she circled around unhurriedly; she wasn’t looking for an opening, merely observing, and the creature knew. A broken chain hung off a thick metal band around one foot, flesh rubbed raw from the years it had struggled to get free. She narrowed her eyes as she came back around to the front.“What do you intend to do, now that you’re free?” she asked calmly. The creature snarled and trembled with anger.“...Kill them all… Kill you all.” To call the voice that came from the beast ‘inhuman’ would do it no justice. It sounded as metal across a stone floor and dripped with contempt and malice.“That so? Even though the ones that trapped you are long dead?” she once more called out, firm, confident.“All the same… You’re all the same… all the same, all the same, all the same! Kill you all!” it growled, lunging towards her.She easily leapt back as the creature crashed into the ground where she once stood, its head snapping up to affix her once more. As it swiped and snapped at her, she dodged gracefully, her expression never changing, her eyes remaining calm and even.“You will not change your mind?” There was a hint of sadness in her voice.“Never… nevernevernevernever!”This time, as it lunged at her, she caught its teeth with the handle of her scythe. She regarded the creature with pity as she turned the blade towards the inside of its mouth and swung, the blade biting easily through the back of the creature’s throat. She stepped away to avoid the blood that erupted out of the newly exposed throat as the top of the head thudded pathetically onto the ground. After a moment, the body collapsed as well.The woman walked over once the blood stopped spraying so wildly and knelt before the creature, head bowed in reverence; she did not find joy in its death, only pity. Such a broken, mistreated creature, led to hatred by the selfish actions of people who were long gone now. But, if she had left it, innocent people would have died.And so, she did as she must, to protect that woman’s legacy.