Welcome back to the best formerly lost but now found Library of Elysium, located in the only spot in the world that is half in the Underworld, and half in the Living World.
My name is Asteria Blackwell, and I am the High Priestess of the Library of Elysium. Join me as I journey into the forgotten depths and into a world of tales hidden within these sacred halls.
Like a modern-day Virgil, I have become a guide to this magical space - and in this episode, we unveil the new happenings in the library and Elysium - including the opening of the Ambrosia Cafe inside the library, and who will be offering a range of drinks and treats for all, even vampires and werewolves!
We also discuss the 2,524th City Dionysia festival happening later this summer - one that promises a wonderful selection of amazing theatrical performances. And no one will get eaten by lions this year! Fantastic!
And as always, Big Midge the Oracle will bring a fresh round of answers to your inquiries, and she'll give us an exclusive update on her romance with Brunhild, and maybe hint at a big milestone as well.
And last but not least, we'll discuss why Charon, ferryman of the dead, is unexpectedly in town (It's my fault, apologies in advance) and we'll hear a tale from the rare soul who has been with him every day for the past millennia.
ASTERIA BLACKWELL PRESENTS: STORIES FROM THE LOST LIBRARY OF ELYSIUM
Episode 3
Greetings and welcomes dear citizens of Elysium. You are listening to Elysium Public Radio. I am your host Asteria Blackwell, and this is Stories from The Lost Library.
Now, before we begin, we must start with a warning. Yes, I realize the irony, for in the golden days we would start with an honored prayer to the muses for a memorable tale, but in these modern times, warnings have replaced prayers, and our lawyers are insistent.
So, take this warning as our opening prayer: This library, these stories, this missive, this community is a safe and sacred space. Keep swords, daggers, poison, ignorance, and hate to yourself, for they have no place here. We are all seeking peace and softness.
There will be no tolerance for hateful words and comments, general rudeness, patriarchal and colonist attitudes, and those afflicted with the disorder of having their mouth be larger than their brains.
There is no guarantee every story will be a happy one. In fact, some will be awful - or the muses forbid - boring. But what you consider boring and awful may not be so to someone else. That is the nature of storytelling. Not every story is for you.
I am High Priestess of these hallowed halls; I am King of this space. My word is law, and the law is that all are welcome here - and I truly mean all - every gender, every race, every background, and inclination. If you cannot abide by my laws, then please go roll in the mud with the rest of the pigs somewhere else.
For the rest of us, welcome. You were meant to find your way here.
Welcome back all! It is a pleasure having you here. I have so much to share with you!
I want to start off by saying how eternally grateful and happy it makes me to see so many souls spending time in our library. Like I mentioned last time, people are making this into a wonderful gathering place, and we have decided to embrace that energy.
I am pleased to announce the opening of The Ambrosia Cafe inside the Lost Library. The Ambrosia Cafe is helmed by the amazing Phryne and her wonderful baristas who are here to offer you a wide selection of beverages - everything from the popular coffee-based drinks to a selection of lovely hand-blended teas - plus, the ever popular Jug O’Wine from the Dionysus wineries, and let’s not forget to mention the selection of beers, meads, and ports.
And this is most exciting but our baristas have developed a line of blood-based drinks for the discerning vampires and undead among us. Those new concoctions range from flavored, spiced, and super-charged, and can be made iced or warm.
Partnering with Phryne and the Ambrosia Cafe is Chef Will Blake, who many of you will recognize as the werewolf who owns and runs the highly popular Flea Bite Bakery down in the arts district. He is bringing us tasty treats such as pastries, sandwiches, and organic treats for everyone - whether you are human or animal, or something in between.
The Ambrosia Cafe is located in the north reading space and is open now. We have plenty of comfortable tables and chairs, and we even have real plates and napkins to cut down on paper waste. Plus, it’s just so much more civilized.
We have designated the cafe area and that north reading space as the place for any patrons who wish to have lively conversations and hold meetings of groups.
In equal turn, the west reading space is now our silent space. If you are like me and get distracted with the coffee bean grinder going off every few minutes, then you will absolutely love this area. We have brought in some quality overstuffed furniture, the kind that just invites you to sink in and relax. I must say from personal experience those chairs are quite addicting, especially when you add in a cup of tea and a good book. I find that bad moods evaporate in moments when I’m there.
Of course, do not worry for we still have the moss chairs and meadows to sit in, yes, but it’s also nice to have proper chairs, couches, and tables. Some of us do have rather bad knees and stiff backs after putting on miles of adventures.
And speaking of updating our spaces - this is most exciting news - two massive fireplaces appeared overnight last week! One rose up in the west silent space and the other between the cafe and the far meadows. We had added a variety of new lamps and rugs in, and when we came in the next morning the Library had decided to add to the ambience itself by dreaming to life these amazingly carved mantles with roaring fires! The flames have been going strong for over a week now, and they’ve yet to dim or slow down. You can sit as close as you like to the flame without getting to warm, and they smell of soft palo Santo and evergreen.
There are always patrons to be found now near the fires, basking in the soft magic of this space, reading in solidarity under our starry domed ceiling. Utterly magical.
I mentioned also last time that so many exciting book clubs and learning communities have formed here, and we have new ones crop up daily. Just today for example, we had one club in that is reading spicy gay pirate romance novels, and another group that is choosing to dive into first hand accounts of great naval battles in history. The naval history group is quite rowdy - I’ve never heard so many heated arguments over ships in my entire life! Everyone who comes through the doors here are passionate about something and I am glad we can offer space for that.
Also, and I am very thrilled about this, but one of our resident squirrel patrons brought up the notion of having a seed library, which is a repository of all sorts of seeds, acorns, and assorted items. I thought that was a fabulous idea so we have set up a space near the main check out desk where you can take or leave seeds as you wish.
Right now we have a plethora of selections - there are plenty of pomegranate seeds, and narcissus and hyacinth. Oh! And we also have some of those lovely whirligig seeds from Yggdrasil, the world tree, so you can start your own world tree! But just make sure you have space for it, dears. They do tend to grow rather large.
So for those of you with a longing for greenery and growth and good dark dirt, come on by and help yourself.
One housekeeping note I need to pass along - we have had quite the uptick in souls coming in to partake in solo and/or group rituals and/or orgies in the forest depths. We welcome all of course, but please do stop by the main desk to arrange a reservation with me so we know you are here, and we can add you to our schedule of events if you wish. Plus this will help ensure no one stumbles onto your ritual unintended, unless you want them to.
Dearest listeners, I want to follow up on a topic we discussed in our last episode. I mentioned I had received a letter from someone at the University who had concerns about our library and my credentials. I extended an invitation to the University for them to come and speak with me directly, and I am happy to report I had a large group of academics take me up on that offer.
It was a wonderful meeting! We have come to the arrangement that if *their* papers and books are included in our library, well then they have no objections at all! How lovely!
They will work up a classification and notation system for the library’s offerings on their end. And they designated a liaison who will help coordinate between the Lost Library and the University. Her name is Cassie and she is quite lovely and frankly one of the most intelligent people I’ve come across in many years. This liaison role is part of her dissertation and she’ll be the one to reach out to if you have questions for that realm.
The ever increasing number of individuals who are here to help, to be a part of this amazing space, has been nothing short of extraordinary. And you know, dear listeners, I was thinking last night of ways we could best channel that excitement and energy into something life changing, into something that can do good wherever it goes.
And I’m considering if this is the right time to begin a special group of acolytes - a good old fashioned mystery cult, if you will. Now some of us who have been here for eons are very familiar with a wide variety of mystery cults, I mean, who hasn’t been to a Dionysian Mystery Cult party and gotten so drunk you swear you were dancing with Dionysus himself and hearing the stars sing in joy and well, you know, all of the other perks that come from a good Dionysus cult party.
Those of you who have never had the pleasure should know that a mystery cult is a group of like-minded souls who converted their passions into devotion and, if called, ecstatic ritual. This is a secret society, so to speak, where we will for our own bonds and make our own rules and rituals as we dive deep into the mystery and ecstasy in the act of learning, and holding stories sacred.
Perhaps we can begin by naming it The Lost Library Mystery Cult? For anyone interested, please see me at the front desk. If you are listening and cannot make it to the library, then please email me at priestess@lostlibraryofelysium.com. There will be a Mystery Cult level available on our Substack with our own private channels of communication.
Now for some announcements:
On behalf of the Elysium Town Council and the Elysium Activities Board, I am elated that I get to announce the 2,524th Great Dionysia Festival will take place later this spring! Yes, this is amazing news to be back in full swing! The Great Dionysia, which many also refer to as City Dionysia, is our renowned playwriting competition - and, what is even more thrilling is that this year, the Great Dionysia will be happening right alongside the Olympic Games! There will be so much going on this summer!
Of course, The Olympic Games happen every four years, and are for anyone who wishes to sign up. There will be the always classic games such as wrestling, running and all that, but new sports are being added in this time, so also be on the look out for golf, synchronized swimming, and water polo. Clothing, as always, is completely optional, but the pros know it just slows you down.
Now, as we mentioned earlier, the City Dionysia will take place in its usual location at the Amphitheater in the evenings after the games have concluded for the day. You can expect a whole slew of new plays, both comedies and tragedies, for your entertainment. And I know I’m going to get emails from Oscar Hammerstein, but no, there is no musical section, I’m sorry. That will just have to be taken up with the event organizers.
And I can share the fantastic news, which is that after decades of letters and public shaming, the organizers have finally agreed to implement a woman’s play competition. I don’t see why they won’t let women enter into the main event, unless they’re worried they’ll get soundly beaten, but progress is progress, even if it’s only a publicity step. So ladies, sharpen your quills and get cracking. You have some haters to squash.
I don’t know about you but I am most looking forward to seeing what William Shakespeare will bring this year. Last year, as many of you may remember, he and his boyfriend Kit Marlowe took first place with the hilarious Witches of Ilium, breaking Sophocles’ 38 year-long first place streak. The buzz around The Witches of Ilium has really not quite died down, even today, and I must say it is still one of my favorite productions.
Oh! And I almost forgot to mention another change this year - no one will be eaten by lions if you place less than 5th. Yes, I know, it was putting such a damper on a great time, so just expect endless ridicule instead of being mauled by hungry lions.
And for those of you who are more hands on, the City Dionysia is in need of people to construct sets, costumes, and masks. Oh, and ticket takers of course. And The Olympic Games will also need hands for tickets and event set up, so please do sign up if you wish to be involved.
No prior experience is needed, but we do need some people who know how to use tools and such.
Now, let’s hear an update from our wonderful Oracle, Big Midge.
I asked Big Midge how her date with Brunhild went, and here’s what she had to say, in typical Big Midge fashion: “Let me sing of love, for I am tired of singing of death, of fate and cruelty. She is my siren, she called out into the darkness ‘find me, love me, let me love you.’ We have found each other in every universe, in every life, and I have written a thousand stories for her. We are as one, one breath, one thought - and we are a dream sung into life by the stars.”
This sounds amazing, and everyone can hear how wildly in love she is, and I am ecstatic for the both of them. I believe I even saw a Uhaul in front of Big Midge’s house the other morning! Which is a wonderful turn of events.
Remember, you can send in your queries to Big Midge via email, at oracle@asteriablackwell.com and she’ll reply if she has something to share.
Ok, here we go.
Oracle #1.
Dear Big Midge — My grandmother always told me to keep a birch branch tacked above my door for banishing and keeping away ill spirits. I’ve done so without fail for years, but my grandmother never mentioned what to do when the birch banishes you from your own home! I haven’t been able to get in my house for over a week. Help! Sincerely, Locked Out
Dear Locked Out — Well, the birch is doing its job then, it seems. It sounds like you’ve been infected with a curse. Have you been consorting with the wrong sort of folk, like the ones who voted for that orange demon in the American elections? Wait - you’re the one who stuck a Trump flag out in their front yard - I see it now, very clearly. Locked Out, your house hates you and what you’ve done to it. You need to take a journey to the cleansing waters of Excelsior Springs and try and wash away that curse, which is rather sticky and often needs soap and sometimes lye. If that doesn’t work, I’m afraid you’ll have to find a new place to live. Sorry dear, that’s what happens when you consort with the wrong folk.
Oracle #2.
Dear Big Midge —
I recently inherited a strange small statue from my uncle, who was a professor at the University. It kind of looks like an octopus, but also a dragon, and maybe a human face, it’s hard to say because it keeps shifting every time I look at it directly. The issue is, this thing whispers to me every single night, and it says some really weird stuff, like, jail time weird. I don’t know what to do with this thing, and my mom says I have to keep it because it’s my uncle’s, but it really creeps me out. Help! Sincerely, Going Slowly Insane
Dear Going Slowly Insane — Please return that to the University, they’ve been looking for it. And for goodness sake, please do not wake it up, it’s the oldest of the old gods, and it took a lot of blood sacrifice to get it to sleep, so for the love of all, just don’t answer back.
Oracle #3
Dear Big Midge —
My neighbor’s rooster wakes me up every frickin’ morning. I want to sleep in, but this jerk just keeps crowing his head off. What can I do? Sincerely, Sleepless in Seattle
Dear Sleepless in Seattle — The roosters are going to war, so they sing out a morning battle cry…but then realize that is a lot of work and maybe it can wait another day. You’ll have to challenge the rooster to battle and let him win.
All right, let’s pause and consider the weather, and what you can expect.
Yggdrasil’s leaves are unfurling, so watch out for those whirligig seeds, or you may wind up with a world tree sprouting up in your backyard. That’s how we ended up with an offshoot of Yggdrasil growing behind the convenience store on Washington street, and it’s already starting to produce worlds.
Last night’s freak light storm disrupted the auroras, which sent hundreds of sprites a-flight. I’m hearing reports that the fireflies have also been carried off on the electric winds, but most are making their way back home. We can expect several days of odd light flashes and hums as the sprites and fireflies recover.
And I do have an update on that surprise eclipse we experienced Monday. The moon, who was originally blamed, (as she usually is), has been cleared. We have confirmation that Fenrir, the great wolf of the North, became a little too inebriated on a night out, and as we all know, when Fenrir gets inebriated, he becomes very maudlin, and when he becomes maudlin he eats the sun. Fenrir is now recovering but I hear he has heartburn and wants everyone to know he is sorry and he sincerely regrets his actions.
Loki, if you are listening, please come get your son and maybe consider getting him into therapy. Or just take him to a sporting event, or something. Eating the sun is always a sign of attention seeking.
Now, dear listeners, I no doubt know that you have gotten word that Charon, the Ferryman of the Dead, is in Elysium at this very moment. His arrival has caused quite the stir, as he has not left his ferry post since before anyone can remember. And frankly, no one seemed aware that he could leave, to be honest. It seems he has been ferrying souls across the river because he enjoys it, apparently.
I must admit his presence here is my fault, and I apologize to the citizens of Elysium for how upsetting this is. You see, when we brought our Lost Library home from the Mirkwood forest, there was no other option but to use Charon’s ferry, and that old wooden boat was just not able to handle the weight of a library, me, and a Luna moth. I daresay this might have been the first library who needed to cross in such a manner. The Library of Alexandria wafted down to the Underworld on smoke plumes, and so did all of Troy, come to think of it. Atlantis, of course, floated in.
But, also, this boat had been in use for eons, so I feel like this could have been something expected. Regardless, the boat held up as valiantly as it could, but right as we neared the far shore, it cracked in two with a heavy groan, and as soon as we stepped off, it sank into the river.
I did offer to pay him for the boat, but he demanded that we fix it. Well, I am a Priestess and not a boatbuilder, plus I have no tools, and well, that does not seem to matter to him. I do not want to speak ill of the man, but he told me to go look in my library for a book on boat repair and get on it, which seemed rather rude. Unfortunately we did have unpleasant words and well, I’ll just say that he is still sore about the entire situation.
So sore in fact, that he has walked - while carrying the remnants of his boat - along the shores of the Acheron river just to deposit them on my doorstep.
Which now brings me to humbly ask I if we have any listeners here who have experience with boat repair? Any Vikings in town? Egyptians or Phoenicians, perhaps? But please, no one from the White Star line, though.
I am afraid Charon will not leave until someone has repaired his ferry. He has set up a camp behind the library and seems content to wait it out. I fear this will become a rather dire situation unless some compromise can be made.
The positive side of this is that Charon’s presence seems to have scared off that errant Christian who keeps trying to set the library on fire. The water sprites do need a rest from putting out so many fires.
I have gone out to sit with Charon and the remnants of his boat, to perhaps come to some agreement. Charon is not much for conversation, but surprisingly, his boat is.
Yes, I know, I was surprised too.
The boat wanted me to hear his story, which I did, with honor. So dear listeners, as a peace offering to Charon and the magnificent boat who ferried untold numbers of souls across the dark waters of the River Acheron and the River Styx, here is his story, just as he spoke it to me.
I have waited long to tell this story. Enough eons have passed that it feels like my life was a dream, but I remember the Before.
I was a giant ash, once, a King among the great trees that overlooked a cliff on a dark and wild northern sea. Cold rains and blowing winds were my cradle as I rose up larger and stronger than anything around me. “King,” the trees around me began to whisper. “King.”
I took the title they offered. I held our memories, I held court and listened to the whispers of the earth, to the stars singing their songs, and of the wild life that surrounded us. We had a peaceful life for a long time, until the day the boats arrived.
A dozen of these long thin boats packed with bearded men blew into the cove, driven by a fierce storm. The men washed up on the beach after their boats shattered on the rocky shore.
Even I swayed in that storm, so great was it. One for the ages. Lightning rained down one bolt after another, and the wind drove huge waves to batter the shore. Many souls in the forest and sea lost their lives that day.
But enough of the bearded men survived. When the skies cleared, they raided my land and began to hack down so many of my denizens, only to burn them all. Every single one of them held stories of days long gone, and it all went up to the stars, carried by embers.
My queen shivered nearby as we could do nothing but watch them. The bearded me soon turned their eyes to me, and her. They whispered of how straight and tall the two of us were as they stacked more and more wood on their fires. Their eyes darted between their broken ship and us, calculating and planning, and more talk over the endless fires.
The next morning at dawn, the men advanced on us, axes drawn.
In the end, it was only me they took, for the sea had claimed many of their numbers. I had no resistance against those weapons, none of us did. My queen screamed, but they could not hear her. Yet I could, and I still hear the echoes of her everywhere, even today.
They hacked and chopped and shaped, they ran blades over every inch of me, peeling away bark and branches until I resembled nothing of what I had before. I had been shaped into one of their boats - my spine had been carved into the spine of their ship.
As they pushed me out into the ocean and stepped inside, intent on carrying me away from everyone I had ever known, I heard my queen calling out to the Gods, demanding justice. “They have killed our King, my mate, please save him,” she cried, “Save him for he is our King, he is worthy, and I love him.”
One God answered her call. I do not know which one to this day. But as soon as we met the open sea, a great wave out came out of nowhere, and overturned me and all of the bearded men I carried in one heartbeat.
The men screamed and flailed. I hung upside down for a long moment, bouncing against the battering waves. Everything that had been strapped to me fell away and sank into the darkness. I floated for a while, but soon the water took hold and I began to sink too.
Bodies of men fell alongside me. The further we sank, the more the darkness swallowed us whole until there was no hint of the sun I had once worshipped.
When I came to, I found myself washed up on a black sand beach that was littered with debris. Items like cooking pots, and trunks, and all sorts of jewelry lay scattered about like a wreck. Muddy water lapped at my sides, and nothing seemed like home.
After some time, I noticed a very tall, dark figure walking along the shore. His slow, heavy steps were the only sound in this strange place. He stopped before me, and stared just as the bearded men had done before. Without a word, he flipped me over with one hand and dumped out the sand and water that had gathered on the decks. I was pushed back into that muddy water, and he stepped inside and began to guide me down the river.
We moved from place to place along the banks, at first just picking up a few souls here and there that seemed quite lost. Yet every time we had dropped one group off on the other side, then we discovered there a handful more standing in place, waiting.
So we ferried them, this strange man and I. He never spoke a word to me or them, but I enjoyed having something to do. A task. Over and over we carried passengers without question, without word. They offered silver coins for the rides, and soon they were too heavy for me to carry so the man offloaded them to the shore.
I knew I could never go home again. I knew I was in the Underworld, this strange place with a strange sun. The weight of souls has worn down my body, step after step as they traveled from one life to another. My Queen’s prayer had been answered in that yes, I was worthy, but no one, not even a God, could save me from my fate.
I’ve grown fond of this cranky old man who steers me. He’s never bothered to tell me his name himself, but he takes care of me - sweeping the decks and repairing what can be repaired. This is not the life I would have chosen, but I am content in knowing I did some good for someone.
I do hope I can see the stars again, though. One last time.
This is our great Lost Library of Elysium, home at last, the shining beacon of knowledge and learning. Twice a month I will bring you a story from the archives, so be sure to join me as we explore this magical world.
We - by which I mean me and this library - are excited to share these stories with you.
I welcome your feedback! Please email me at asteria@asteriablackwell.com, which I will also list in the written show notes or stop by the main circulation desk for a chat.
My name is Asteria Blackwell, and you have been listening to Stories from the Lost Library on Elysium Public Radio.
Share this post