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

Written 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

Written 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

Written 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

Written 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.