June 2, 2024 • 38 mins
My name is Asteria Blackwell, and I am the High Priestess of the Library of Elysium - a library once lost for eons but now found. 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 travel to the darkest depths where the library's beating heart lives on. This is not a pleasant story, it's a story of scars and regret, but perhaps, after today, it may unfold into something new.
This tale has left a permanent mark on my own heart, so proceed with caution around your own. The task of remembering can be a heavy one...
But!Before we venture into such depths, we will catch up on the latest news from Elysium, and also get a fresh batch of oracles from Big Midge. Please join me, for you are meant to be here.
❦
Substack: https://asteriablackwell.substack.com/
Instagram: @asteriablackwell
Email Big Midge the Oracle: oracle@asteriablackwell.com
Email Asteria: asteria@asteriablackwell.com
❦
Written and Narrated by Sandy Lynn. https://www.sandylynnstudio.com/.
All copyrights reserved. May 2024.
❦
Intro and Outro Music:
Adrift Among Infinite Stars, by Scott Buckley
Song: Scott Buckley - Adrift Among Infinite Stars
License: Creative Commons (CC BY 3.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0
Music powered by BreakingCopyright: https://breakingcopyright.com
Main Episode Music:
The Long Dark, by Scott Buckley
Song: Scott Buckley - The Long Dark
License: Creative Commons (CC BY 3.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0
Music powered by BreakingCopyright: https://breakingcopyright.com
Scott Buckley Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/musicbyscottbuckley/about
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Asteria Blackwell (00:02):
Greetings and welcome, dear citizens of
Elysium.
You are listening to ElysiumPublic Radio.
I am your host, AsteriaBlackwell, and this is Stories
from the Lost Library.
Now, before we begin, we alwaysstart with a warning, and, yes,
I realize the irony, for in thegolden days we would always
(00:25):
start with an honored prayer tothe muses for a memorable tale.
But in these modern times,warnings have replaced prayers
and our lawyers are insistent.
So take this warning as ouropening prayer.
This library, these stories,this missive, this community is
a safe and sacred space.
(00:47):
Keep all swords, daggers,poison, ignorance and hate to
yourself, for they have no placehere.
We are all seeking peace andsoftness.
There will be no tolerance forhateful words and comments,
general rudeness, patriarchaland colonialist attitudes and
(01:08):
those afflicted with thedisorder of having their mouth
be larger than their brains.
There is no guarantee everystory here will be a happy one.
In fact, some will be downrightawful, or the muses forbid
boring.
But what you consider boringand awful may not be to someone
(01:28):
else.
That is the nature ofstorytelling.
Not every story is for you.
I am high priestess of thesehallowed halls.
I am king of this space.
My word is law, and the law isthat all are welcome here, and I
truly mean all, every gender,every race, every background and
(01:49):
every inclination.
If you cannot abide by my laws,then please go roll in the mud
with the rest of the pigssomewhere else.
As for the rest of us, welcome.
You were meant to find your wayhere.
Welcome back, dearest listeners.
(02:15):
I hope you are having a fineday, hopefully curled up in your
favorite spot with yourfavorite beverage, book and a
furry friend.
I must say that everyone'sresponse to our long-lost
library and its story has beenmore than I could ever have
imagined.
I have sat at the front deskfor the last few weeks and I
(02:35):
cannot tell you how wonderful ithas been to watch literally
thousands of curious souls crossour threshold.
We've been handing out librarycards left and right.
Reading clubs have alreadypopped up from patrons bumping
into each other in the samesections of the library.
I've personally witnessed atleast three couples on dates
(02:58):
including Achilles and Patroclus.
It's just how wonderful.
And on every single person hasbeen the same expression of
wonder on their faces as theywalk in, their mouths drop open,
their eyes go wide as they gettheir first glimpse of the
endless books and canopy oftrees.
It is a most sacred experienceand I am honored to hold space
(03:23):
for it.
The library is also well pleasedto be back where it belongs.
It has been humming non-stopand I believe it's already
doubled in size once more, but Ican't be sure I can tell you.
The branches may reach out tocaress your cheeks and you may
feel warm breezes that smell ofcitrus and clove as you wander.
(03:46):
And that is the library sayinghello and welcome.
One word of caution for newlibrary patrons if you wander
into the stacks, please have away to help you find your way
back out.
I suggest bringing a long pieceof thread.
I know some of you may wish touse breadcrumbs, but this
(04:08):
library is half forest, whichmeans there are several
creatures who may use your trailas a mid-morning snack.
We've located everyone who hasgotten lost so far, or at least
we think we have, but it doestake some time and that's why we
encourage a bit of help inwayfinding.
We're working on signage, butplease use common sense and
(04:31):
caution when wandering into amythical library.
Having thousands of souls comingin to visit this great library
has reinforced in me just howvital it is for everyone to have
access to such a space oflearning.
We bar no one in these halls,regardless of what gender you
(04:51):
may be, how much money you have,or even if you can read or not.
Many of you who have beenresidents of Elysium for long
periods of time may have neverhad an opportunity to learn to
read or write, or even see abook in person.
Perhaps you lived during theage of the great storytellers,
(05:12):
the bards, the rhapsodes, thescalds, the weavers of words,
who are all a library's worth ofstories in themselves.
Yet when those storytellersdied, the words they carried
died with them.
Certainly, others might havepicked up where they left off,
but how many stories have beenlost to time just because no one
(05:35):
was left to carry them?
This well-founded fear drovemany to begin writing tales down
when possible.
But again, the ability to writewas a very precious skill.
Who held the purse strings forthat education?
Who decided who would beeducated?
Who paid for the writer's time,the ink and the vellum skins or
(06:00):
papyrus sheets?
Writing stories instead ofspeaking them was a very pricey
endeavor.
Reading and writing eventuallyspread to many minds and hands,
and the words they captured hasopened worlds otherwise unknown
to millions of souls.
These books hold freedom.
(06:20):
They hold knowledge, ourhistories, our failures and
achievements.
They hold our souls and theyremember who we are.
So, dear readers, I say all ofthis because I wish to discuss a
few slightly odd situations Ihave encountered recently.
While I love the convenience ofemail, it does tend to allow
(06:43):
people to hide in anonymity, andthat's what happened with one
communication that came in justrecently.
The author only used a longstring of numbers to identify
themselves.
Naturally, it says "Dear Madam,I understand you claim to have
discovered, in quotes, the lostlibrary of Elysium.
(07:05):
Of course, you have broughtthis thing to our town without
gaining approval of the citizensof Elysium, citizens who have
serious questions and concernswhen a fantastical half-forest
library suddenly appears in themiddle of town, To which I say a
valid point yes, it was sudden,but that cannot be helped.
(07:29):
The letter goes on.
How can one say for certainthat this is truly the lost
library of Elysium?
Has it been verified by anindependent team of reviewers?
Do you have Providencepaperwork?
Have you had any experts at theuniversity authenticate
anything about it?
(07:49):
Well, to that I say how manylost libraries of this scope and
size do you believe there to be?
How many apology libraries didthe goddess Athene dream up, and
how would anyone at theuniversity be able to
authenticate it if they knownothing about it?
The letter goes on.
(08:13):
What kind of degree does a highpriestess possess?
You realize you need a terminaldegree to be a librarian.
Do you have your PhD or yourMaster of Library Science degree
?
Where did you earn it and isthe school certified?
Have you been published inacademic journals?
Who has vouched for theinformation housed in your
(08:35):
library?
How does one properly notatethe story of a sycamore tree and
a gray wolf?
Do you use MLA for that, or isthere a format established?
Well, I have no idea what anyof that means and frankly, it
sounds rather boring.
How you measure this libraryagainst whatever standards you
(08:57):
have set up is entirely up toyou.
Well, I have no idea what anyof that means and, frankly, it
sounds rather boring.
How you measure this libraryagainst whatever standards you
have set up is entirely up toyou.
My only qualifications are thatI have been an acolyte of
learning, knowledge and thetales this library holds for my
(09:22):
entire life, for whatever thatis worth these days.
I'm not sure that that is theanswer that you are seeking.
Probably not, but it's the bestone I have, so let me do this.
Instead, I am offering aninvitation to anyone from the
university to come and examineour library for themselves.
(09:44):
Talk to me as a person andlet's solve these issues with
the power of learning, offiguring things out.
That is what the spirit of ourLibrary of Elysium calls for.
We are both acolytes of the actof learning and knowledge, so
let us act like them and knittogether a solution that serves
(10:05):
us all.
Next up is a slightly moreinvolved problem.
Now, for the record, I do notnormally like to bring attention
to problem situations, but I dofeel the need to describe this
one, as rumors seem to be flyingaround town and I want to set
the record straight.
First, I received this emailright after we opened.
(10:31):
Get thee out, satan, get thisdevil library out of Elysium and
into hell, where it belongs.
Repent and know the end is near.
Yada yada, yada Revelations,yada yada.
Christians have chimed in.
(10:57):
In addition to sending meseveral more letters filled with
the same hate and Bible verses,they then took to making scenes
outside our front doors.
There's a lot of yelling, a lotof hand-painted signs being
waved about, etc.
One man in particular comesalmost every day, and he spends
(11:18):
his time shouting the samethings that he has already
written to us about.
He tries to spray patrons withholy water, and just yesterday I
caught him building awitch-burning pyre, as he called
it.
He did manage to get it lit,but the water nymphs who inhabit
the fountain outside had afield day scorching him with
(11:41):
water and putting out the fire.
He then spent the better partof an hour damning them for
their actions, but eventually hejust ran out of dry matches and
had to give up for the day.
I do feel sorry for him to beso filled with so much hate, but
I can't have him scaring peopleoff or the fates forbid setting
(12:03):
them on fire.
So I did go to speak with himdirectly.
The man who calls himself adeacon wanted to let me know
that he felt the library was awork of the devil.
I gently reminded him that hewas in the underworld proper and
that the Christians have yet tofind any evidence of their
(12:23):
so-called devil here in theserealms, or their God for that
matter.
I have to say that every time Ipass their cathedral, I always
see thousands of Christiansloitering at the bus stop,
waiting for someone named Jesusto come and pick them up.
Some have apparently beenwaiting for centuries and
(12:43):
perhaps someone should break thenews to them that he's not
coming.
As one of our new Young Livingpatrons said, it sounds like
they got ghosted.
Move on already.
And I couldn't agree more.
But regardless, this deacon hadthe nerve to tell me that it
(13:04):
was his mission to destroy thelibrary because it was full of
Satan's words and it goesagainst their theology.
Yada, yada, yada on repeat.
The deacon also mentioned thattoo many of their nuns which I
understand to be women they'veimprisoned in the cathedral to
do the laundry of the priestshave left the grounds to do the
(13:24):
laundry of the priests, haveleft the grounds to come explore
the library, and now at leastone nun is missing and the
others are asking too manyquestions.
He said quote we can't affordto lose more nuns because we
already must import them fromother lands and I'd like the
missing ones back becauselaundry is piling up.
Ah, what a life those nuns mustlive.
(13:49):
Can you imagine having youronly reason for existence to be
to wash the dirty underwear ofmen?
Those are the people I feelsorriest for, those who have
been told over and over theyhave no purpose.
They have no, no value andtheir only good is work meals.
So I wish to make this officialannouncement.
(14:10):
If there is anyone who wishesto escape such an existence,
perhaps such as these nuns, Ioffer up a sanctuary for you.
If you find your way here orfind a way to ask for help, I
will offer you food, shelter anda job, so long as you come of
your own free will and vow notto bring those hateful
(14:32):
constructs into this space.
And just for the record, thenun is not missing.
I know exactly where she is atand she is finally happy and
safe and not doing laundry.
All right, dear listeners,enough of that drivel, let's
(14:55):
speak of more interesting items.
The Generally Undead SupportGroup is still meeting every
Tuesday from 7 to 8 pm at theElysium Community Center, and
I've been asked to pass alongthat a new support group has
just formed for those whoselives have been wrecked by a
Mount Olympus god be it rape,being shifted into an animal
(15:17):
unwillingly killed, or had yourliver eaten by an eagle or been
devoured by your father.
You should know that there isspace and support for you.
This new group will meet onThursday evenings from 7 to 8 pm
at the community center, it hasbeen noted that a group of
(15:39):
feral ravens has been spottedgraffitying the walls of the
amphitheater with rather rudelimericks.
If anyone has any informationor knows who to contact to get
them to stop or perhaps speaksCorvid please contact Dave with
the Public Works Department.
Now it's time to turn ourattention to the weather, both
(16:03):
here in the underworld and inthe upper world side of town.
Dark spring has finally arrived, wrapped in a bluster of wind,
rain and a smattering of snow.
Only the bravest buds havedared to open soft petals to
these cold skies, but many moreare following suit.
These rains are here to washaway the last of winter's grasp,
(16:28):
to shake off what sleep holdstight and to bring us all awake.
For the next several daysexpect cold rain, showers,
resist planting.
(16:48):
Anything that has notdetermined for itself it can
brave the chilly nights, andthat includes you.
The world is waking up, castingoff sleep and dreams.
New lives are beginning, newgrowth is emerging.
Know that, even if the wintertook you down to bare roots,
that even death dies in thespring and we can always begin
again.
So to you watching the AuroraBorealis, to those watching the
(17:10):
world come out of hibernation.
Welcome back to this new life.
Let's make it a good one.
Big Midges Oracles are broughtto you today with support from
Dionysus Winery, where they wantme to let you know that the
classic Jug of Wine is on salethis month.
Buy one, get one half off.
(17:31):
Sale this month Buy one, getone half off.
And if you are a member of theDionysian Mystery Cult then you
get triple reward points foreach purpose.
Remember, when you think drunk,think Dionysus.
Now I must say that Big Midge'sidea of having you submit your
(17:51):
queries to her via email hasbeen an overwhelming success.
It's much easier to send anemail than trudge out to the old
Oracle's temple, so let'sembrace this as a positive
change.
Remember, if you have queriesfor her, please email oracle at
hysteriablackwellcom and shewill give me the answers to pass
along.
Big Midge wants everyone to knowshe absolutely loves her new
(18:12):
house.
There's no hint of mold and itis much warmer than the cave.
I had tea with her the otherday and I must say I love what
she has done with the place sofar.
It's warm and cozy, with lotsof natural light, a far cry from
the old temple that was inmajor need of restoration.
(18:33):
She has started anight-blooming garden which is
full of moonflowers and eveningprimrose and night-blooming
jasmine.
Thousands of moss descended onus in the moonlight even our
dear luna moss and madethemselves drunk from the scent
of the flowers.
It's a lovely and serene home.
Here are the questions andresponses directly from Big
(18:56):
Midge herself.
Oracle number one Dear BigMidge, this may be a strange
query, but a group of riversprites has approached me to
join them in battle against abeaver building a dam away up
from their riverside city.
This dam is causing majorissues, namely with diverting
(19:18):
the river.
They need for survival.
I'm all for helping, but Idon't really see myself as a
warrior and I'm not sure what todo.
Sincerely, do we really need togo to war?
Do we Really Need to Go to War,dear?
Do we really need to go to war?
Ride at dawn, take every swordyou can muster.
(19:39):
The cost may be high and itwill take work to make things
right, but you will prevail.
Beware of teeth.
Oracle number two dear Big Midge, how does one get into Valhalla
?
I have a sword.
I've killed some things.
I'm a pretty badass warrior, ifI say so myself.
(20:00):
I've got a hundred ladiesswooning over me and they're
singing songs about me at thelocal tavern.
I'm pretty sure I meet all therequirements, so I'd like an
invite.
Sincerely, alpha.
Dear Alpha, that is a questionfor a Valkyrie, not an Oracle.
As you are aware, onlyValkyries can bring warriors
(20:23):
into Valhalla.
Maybe they just don't like you,I don't know.
Have you tried asking nicely?
Tried asking nicely.
Oracle number three dear BigMidge, I've asked a rather
fascinating woman out multipletimes by inviting her over to my
house to help find my keys.
I don't think she gets that.
(20:45):
I'm asking her out on a date.
She just keeps telling me wheremy keys are.
How could I phrase this in away that she'll understand?
Sincerely, brunhild.
Dear Brunhild, oh, why?
Yes, I would love to come overfor dinner.
Thank you very much.
Will Friday work?
Excellent, thank you, big Midge, and best of luck on your date.
(21:08):
Again, if you have questionsfor the Oracle, please drop her
a line at oracle, atasteriablackwellcom.
(21:32):
Now, dear listeners, it is timefor a story from the library.
This one found me, fortunately,as I was exploring deep in the
stacks one sunny afternoon.
I was somewhere near thesection for classic tales as
told by newts, toads and frogs.
Or maybe it was near thesection on dreams, I forget, but
(21:54):
as I perused I heard a strangenoise coming from a far aisle.
It sounded like a rustling ormaybe a hissing.
It was hard to tell, but Iswear that sound began to call
my name.
My name, not my title aspriestess or my role as
librarian, but my name as womanAsteria, it whispered.
(22:18):
Asteria.
Thankfully, I had an extra rollof ribbon, so I asked the olive
tree to hold one in for me andI took the other and went out
towards what called me.
I walked for ages further andfurther into the deepest
sections.
I used all my ribbon and had toresort to pulling books from
(22:41):
shelves and leaving them on theground as a makeshift pathway.
Books from shelves and leavingthem on the ground as a
makeshift pathway.
The light grew dim and shadowedand a strange, deeply dense
grove of trees began to crowd mein.
They were all alight, with deepred leaves, and the color of
(23:04):
their bark seemed to run red too.
On and on, the whispers calledme forward.
Listeners, I must tell you.
What I witnessed next was bothmajestic and horrifying.
Please, before I continue, Iwant you to take a moment with
me to breathe in deeply downinto your chest and diaphragm
(23:25):
and when you release it, put upany mental wards you may need
for the next several minutes.
I have dreams of this encounterevery night now and it has
barely left my waking mind.
It has left such a permanentmark on my soul I'm not quite
sure how to process this yet.
(23:47):
I rather think it will take along time, maybe centuries, I'm
not sure.
I came to a clearing in thosetrees, a small one, no more than
a few paces in any direction.
A thick carpet of fallen redleaves covered the center of the
(24:07):
clearing, and in the middle laythe headless body of a woman.
She had not decayed in any way.
A gentle current of bloodflowed around her, blood that
shimmered red and gold, bloodthat shimmered red and gold.
Her white garments, edged ingold, remained unstained and
(24:33):
undamaged.
She seemed to float there,serene, suspended.
In this moment that was bothhorrible and beautiful.
There was a quiet pulse ofvibration in the ground, a
heartbeat.
Pulse of vibration in theground, a heartbeat Without a
doubt.
I knew in my bones that I hadcome across the living heart of
our library, the most vulnerableand sacred spot hidden in the
(24:57):
furthest reaches.
I'd rather say the spot may notreveal itself to everyone who
goes searching for it At somepoint maybe minutes later or
hours, I can't say but there wasa shadow of movement and
suddenly beside me was the mostbeautiful ghost I had ever seen.
(25:19):
She had long black hair thatfell in curls down her back and
a golden diadem pinned at thetop.
Around her upper arm was agolden snake bracelet that held
a single ruby eye shining in thedarkness.
She had her face turned towardsthe body in front of us.
(25:42):
Please sit, she said.
The body in front of us, pleasesit, she said.
A marble bench appeared behindus and I sank down onto it.
The ghost with me.
You understand who I once was,do you not?
She asked.
I would be a poor librarian andan even poorer priestess of
(26:05):
Athene's library library if Idid not.
Lady Medusa, I replied.
As soon as Athene's name crossedmy lips, the ghost stiffened
and I realized that that was thewrong thing to say.
I should have known better, butmy brain seemed to not be
working properly.
My brain seemed to not beworking properly.
(26:28):
I have no desire to speak ofher.
Medusa said the words quick andpointed as a stake.
I caught sight of something inthe shadows a glint of silver,
like a helmet catching sunlight.
The hairs on the back of myneck raised and I was certain we
(26:49):
were not alone, but Medusaseemed not to notice.
She said nothing for a longtime, keeping her eyes fixed on
the body.
I want to tell a differentpiece of my tale, if you would
hear it.
She turned to me then.
Enough for me to see her eyes,the sort of eyeshine that you
see in wild animals, except herswas shining silver as the moon.
(27:12):
Nothing would please me morethan to hear it and share it if
you wish.
I replied.
I turned my body away from theshadows in the forest and faced
her.
She nodded, looked down andplaced her hands silently in her
lap.
And so be it.
(27:37):
I withdrew a small notebookfrom my traveling bag.
I learned to never go anywherewithout one.
I had my pencil and I opened toa fresh page.
He took my head, medusa began.
I didn't need to ask who tookit, for it was always a man.
His name has been spoken aloudenough that I will not do it
here, not now.
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He has enough books of hisstory story, she continued.
He took my head and turned itinto his trophy, holding it up
for the entire world to see howpowerful he was, but he didn't
bother to tell the world.
He attacked me in my sleep whenI was defenseless, when I could
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offer no fight.
Even with that advantage, hestill needed divine help from
the gods and her mind, youfeeding him directions and
special gifts so that he couldaccomplish this unnecessarily
gruesome goal.
And for what reason?
For nothing other than an oldking's fear.
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I still hear that shout ofvictory ringing in my ears, just
as loud now that I am a shade,just as loud as when I first
heard them watching my body fallto the ground.
Medusa paused and I sat silentwaiting.
A single oak leaf fluttered tothe ground, yet he so casually
(29:11):
forgot about the rest of me.
She said the body and the wombleft behind to rot considered
unimportant, extraneous, nothingto bother with.
For what power could be hadfrom a woman's body?
Nothing, he assumed.
So he walked off to display histrophy, only earned because of
(29:36):
borrowed knowledge and stolenstrength.
Without a second thought, Iturned my eyes back to that body
.
Now, realization setting inMedusa's head had been paraded
around for centuries and Athenehad taken it and affixed it to
her shield.
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Medusa had been nothing but aweapon.
Even in death, the body hadnever been affected by the
terrible curse laid upon thehead.
For those of you who fellasleep in your mythology classes
, medusa was once a priestess inAthene's temple, but Poseidon
(30:17):
brutally assaulted her in thetemple and, as a result, her
once beautiful hair was turnedinto a mess of snakes and her
eyes would turn anyone shelooked upon to stone.
Everyone wanted the weapon hereyes had become, but no one
cared about the rest of her.
(30:38):
Women like me, the ones who showour anger and bare our teeth.
We become beacons for theswords and arrows of spineless
men.
The angrier I became, the moremy blood called out to them.
Like a siren, it clawed intotheir brains and whispered of
how pitiful, how weak, how trulymortal they were, and that no
(31:03):
one would bother to rememberthem when they are gone.
She looked up to the sky.
He killed me for that anger,and there was nothing left after
that.
My life ended in a moment, andyet my rage did not quit me.
I am still tethered here tothis angry body, this river of
(31:27):
blood that refuses to cease, nomatter how badly I wish it would
.
We sat in silence for a longwhile.
I'm tired of being angry.
She whispered I want to behappy, I want to be free,
(31:50):
whispered I want to be happy, Iwant to be free.
A flash of pink and greencaught my eye and I saw that my
dear friend, the Luna Moth, hadswept in and landed on Medusa's
knee.
She flexed her wings and waitedfor me to translate.
She is asking if you wish tocome with her.
I, luna, waved her antenna atme and I went on.
If you choose, she will enchantyou with a body like hers and
(32:16):
you can fly wherever you chooseand no one will.
She is asking if you wish tocome with her.
I said luna waved her antennaat me and she is asking if you
(32:40):
wish to come with her.
I said luna waved her antennaand I went on.
If you choose, she will enchantyou with a body like hers and
you can fly wherever you chooseand answer to no one for as long
as you desire.
Medusa looked at me and thenback down to the Luna moth
(33:02):
shimmering on her leg.
Back down to the Luna Mothshimmering on her leg.
Truly, she asked I would befree of this body, of it all.
Truly I said, and with that Isaid the spell that would allow
her to understand the languageof the moss, a spell I learned
(33:25):
many winters ago from a goddessof spring.
Luna then repeated her offerand Medusa put a hand to her
mouth in shock.
I can understand her.
She said she sounds beautifuland yes, yes, I want to come
with you.
Then so be it, luna said.
Medusa's ghost shimmered softlyfor a moment and then morphed
(33:50):
into a spectacular Luna mothwith blood red edges on her
wings, shifting into a softgreen in the middle.
She flexed those new wings once, twice, and then her and Luna
took off to the stars, leavingme alone with a corpse among the
ruby red trees.
(34:13):
Her story buzzed in my bones asI sat and watched them fly away,
until a hefty rustle scared meenough that I dropped my
notebook and pencil into thatpool of blood.
I dropped my notebook andpencil into that pool of blood.
I looked up just as a largewhite owl soared overhead
opposite of the direction of themoths.
Athene had been eavesdropping,so it seems.
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I retrieved my notebook and Iam happy to report that, though
the blood soaked through all ofthe pages, it did not mar a
single word.
I had recorded that blood doesmake one's skin tingle and for
nearly a week I have beenwriting non-stop and dreaming of
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that encounter.
And I am shunned sure as Iretrieved my notebook and I'm
happy to report that, eventhough the blood soaked all the
way through the pages, it didnot mar a single word I had
recorded.
The touch of that blood doesmake one's skin tingle and for
(35:23):
nearly a week I had beennon-stop and dreaming of that
encounter.
I don't know if it will stop.
Medusa's blood has ignited afire in me, one of rage and
newfound hope, and I can onlywish that her words will do the
same for the ones who need tohear them most.
(36:07):
Dear listeners, I must tell youhow deeply this story has
altered the very core of me.
Medusa, like so many others,has waited alone to be found and
heard.
It is my honor to hold thisplace for them and for you, in
supporting this endeavor.
This is our great lost libraryof Elysium, home at last, the
(36:28):
shining beacon of knowledge andlearning.
Twice a month, I will bring youa story from the archives, so
be sure to join me as we explorethis magical world.
We by which I mean me and thislibrary are excited to share
(36:50):
these stories with you.
I welcome your feedback.
Please email me at asteria, atasteriablackwellcom, which I
will also list in the writtenshow notes, or stop by the main
circulation desk for a chat.
My name is Asteria Blackwelland you have been listening to
Stories from the Lost Library onElysium Public Radio.
This has been a production ofElysium Public Radio and Sandy
(37:18):
Lynn Studio.
Our music is written andperformed by Scott Buckley.
Today's story was written andnarrated by Sandy Lin.
Follow us on Instagram andTikTok under the handle Asteria
Blackwell For more informationon the show or to obtain a
library card for the LostLibrary of Elysium, or perhaps
(37:40):
to join our mystery cult.
Then find us on Substack atasteriablackwellsubstackcom.
Greetings and welcome, dear citizens of
Elysium.
You are listening to ElysiumPublic Radio.
I am your host, AsteriaBlackwell, and this is Stories
from the Lost Library.
Now, before we begin, we alwaysstart with a warning, and, yes,
I realize the irony, for in thegolden days we would always
(00:25):
start with an honored prayer tothe muses for a memorable tale.
But in these modern times,warnings have replaced prayers
and our lawyers are insistent.
So take this warning as ouropening prayer.
This library, these stories,this missive, this community is
a safe and sacred space.
(00:47):
Keep all swords, daggers,poison, ignorance and hate to
yourself, for they have no placehere.
We are all seeking peace andsoftness.
There will be no tolerance forhateful words and comments,
general rudeness, patriarchaland colonialist attitudes and
(01:08):
those afflicted with thedisorder of having their mouth
be larger than their brains.
There is no guarantee everystory here will be a happy one.
In fact, some will be downrightawful, or the muses forbid
boring.
But what you consider boringand awful may not be to someone
(01:28):
else.
That is the nature ofstorytelling.
Not every story is for you.
I am high priestess of thesehallowed halls.
I am king of this space.
My word is law, and the law isthat all are welcome here, and I
truly mean all, every gender,every race, every background and
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every inclination.
If you cannot abide by my laws,then please go roll in the mud
with the rest of the pigssomewhere else.
As for the rest of us, welcome.
You were meant to find your wayhere.
Welcome back, dearest listeners.
(02:15):
I hope you are having a fineday, hopefully curled up in your
favorite spot with yourfavorite beverage, book and a
furry friend.
I must say that everyone'sresponse to our long-lost
library and its story has beenmore than I could ever have
imagined.
I have sat at the front deskfor the last few weeks and I
(02:35):
cannot tell you how wonderful ithas been to watch literally
thousands of curious souls crossour threshold.
We've been handing out librarycards left and right.
Reading clubs have alreadypopped up from patrons bumping
into each other in the samesections of the library.
I've personally witnessed atleast three couples on dates
(02:58):
including Achilles and Patroclus.
It's just how wonderful.
And on every single person hasbeen the same expression of
wonder on their faces as theywalk in, their mouths drop open,
their eyes go wide as they gettheir first glimpse of the
endless books and canopy oftrees.
It is a most sacred experienceand I am honored to hold space
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for it.
The library is also well pleasedto be back where it belongs.
It has been humming non-stopand I believe it's already
doubled in size once more, but Ican't be sure I can tell you.
The branches may reach out tocaress your cheeks and you may
feel warm breezes that smell ofcitrus and clove as you wander.
(03:46):
And that is the library sayinghello and welcome.
One word of caution for newlibrary patrons if you wander
into the stacks, please have away to help you find your way
back out.
I suggest bringing a long pieceof thread.
I know some of you may wish touse breadcrumbs, but this
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library is half forest, whichmeans there are several
creatures who may use your trailas a mid-morning snack.
We've located everyone who hasgotten lost so far, or at least
we think we have, but it doestake some time and that's why we
encourage a bit of help inwayfinding.
We're working on signage, butplease use common sense and
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caution when wandering into amythical library.
Having thousands of souls comingin to visit this great library
has reinforced in me just howvital it is for everyone to have
access to such a space oflearning.
We bar no one in these halls,regardless of what gender you
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may be, how much money you have,or even if you can read or not.
Many of you who have beenresidents of Elysium for long
periods of time may have neverhad an opportunity to learn to
read or write, or even see abook in person.
Perhaps you lived during theage of the great storytellers,
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the bards, the rhapsodes, thescalds, the weavers of words,
who are all a library's worth ofstories in themselves.
Yet when those storytellersdied, the words they carried
died with them.
Certainly, others might havepicked up where they left off,
but how many stories have beenlost to time just because no one
(05:35):
was left to carry them?
This well-founded fear drovemany to begin writing tales down
when possible.
But again, the ability to writewas a very precious skill.
Who held the purse strings forthat education?
Who decided who would beeducated?
Who paid for the writer's time,the ink and the vellum skins or
(06:00):
papyrus sheets?
Writing stories instead ofspeaking them was a very pricey
endeavor.
Reading and writing eventuallyspread to many minds and hands,
and the words they captured hasopened worlds otherwise unknown
to millions of souls.
These books hold freedom.
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They hold knowledge, ourhistories, our failures and
achievements.
They hold our souls and theyremember who we are.
So, dear readers, I say all ofthis because I wish to discuss a
few slightly odd situations Ihave encountered recently.
While I love the convenience ofemail, it does tend to allow
(06:43):
people to hide in anonymity, andthat's what happened with one
communication that came in justrecently.
The author only used a longstring of numbers to identify
themselves.
Naturally, it says "Dear Madam,I understand you claim to have
discovered, in quotes, the lostlibrary of Elysium.
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Of course, you have broughtthis thing to our town without
gaining approval of the citizensof Elysium, citizens who have
serious questions and concernswhen a fantastical half-forest
library suddenly appears in themiddle of town, To which I say a
valid point yes, it was sudden,but that cannot be helped.
(07:29):
The letter goes on.
How can one say for certainthat this is truly the lost
library of Elysium?
Has it been verified by anindependent team of reviewers?
Do you have Providencepaperwork?
Have you had any experts at theuniversity authenticate
anything about it?
(07:49):
Well, to that I say how manylost libraries of this scope and
size do you believe there to be?
How many apology libraries didthe goddess Athene dream up, and
how would anyone at theuniversity be able to
authenticate it if they knownothing about it?
The letter goes on.
(08:13):
What kind of degree does a highpriestess possess?
You realize you need a terminaldegree to be a librarian.
Do you have your PhD or yourMaster of Library Science degree
?
Where did you earn it and isthe school certified?
Have you been published inacademic journals?
Who has vouched for theinformation housed in your
(08:35):
library?
How does one properly notatethe story of a sycamore tree and
a gray wolf?
Do you use MLA for that, or isthere a format established?
Well, I have no idea what anyof that means and frankly, it
sounds rather boring.
How you measure this libraryagainst whatever standards you
(08:57):
have set up is entirely up toyou.
Well, I have no idea what anyof that means and, frankly, it
sounds rather boring.
How you measure this libraryagainst whatever standards you
have set up is entirely up toyou.
My only qualifications are thatI have been an acolyte of
learning, knowledge and thetales this library holds for my
(09:22):
entire life, for whatever thatis worth these days.
I'm not sure that that is theanswer that you are seeking.
Probably not, but it's the bestone I have, so let me do this.
Instead, I am offering aninvitation to anyone from the
university to come and examineour library for themselves.
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Talk to me as a person andlet's solve these issues with
the power of learning, offiguring things out.
That is what the spirit of ourLibrary of Elysium calls for.
We are both acolytes of the actof learning and knowledge, so
let us act like them and knittogether a solution that serves
(10:05):
us all.
Next up is a slightly moreinvolved problem.
Now, for the record, I do notnormally like to bring attention
to problem situations, but I dofeel the need to describe this
one, as rumors seem to be flyingaround town and I want to set
the record straight.
First, I received this emailright after we opened.
(10:31):
Get thee out, satan, get thisdevil library out of Elysium and
into hell, where it belongs.
Repent and know the end is near.
Yada yada, yada Revelations,yada yada.
Christians have chimed in.
(10:57):
In addition to sending meseveral more letters filled with
the same hate and Bible verses,they then took to making scenes
outside our front doors.
There's a lot of yelling, a lotof hand-painted signs being
waved about, etc.
One man in particular comesalmost every day, and he spends
(11:18):
his time shouting the samethings that he has already
written to us about.
He tries to spray patrons withholy water, and just yesterday I
caught him building awitch-burning pyre, as he called
it.
He did manage to get it lit,but the water nymphs who inhabit
the fountain outside had afield day scorching him with
(11:41):
water and putting out the fire.
He then spent the better partof an hour damning them for
their actions, but eventually hejust ran out of dry matches and
had to give up for the day.
I do feel sorry for him to beso filled with so much hate, but
I can't have him scaring peopleoff or the fates forbid setting
(12:03):
them on fire.
So I did go to speak with himdirectly.
The man who calls himself adeacon wanted to let me know
that he felt the library was awork of the devil.
I gently reminded him that hewas in the underworld proper and
that the Christians have yet tofind any evidence of their
(12:23):
so-called devil here in theserealms, or their God for that
matter.
I have to say that every time Ipass their cathedral, I always
see thousands of Christiansloitering at the bus stop,
waiting for someone named Jesusto come and pick them up.
Some have apparently beenwaiting for centuries and
(12:43):
perhaps someone should break thenews to them that he's not
coming.
As one of our new Young Livingpatrons said, it sounds like
they got ghosted.
Move on already.
And I couldn't agree more.
But regardless, this deacon hadthe nerve to tell me that it
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was his mission to destroy thelibrary because it was full of
Satan's words and it goesagainst their theology.
Yada, yada, yada on repeat.
The deacon also mentioned thattoo many of their nuns which I
understand to be women they'veimprisoned in the cathedral to
do the laundry of the priestshave left the grounds to do the
(13:24):
laundry of the priests, haveleft the grounds to come explore
the library, and now at leastone nun is missing and the
others are asking too manyquestions.
He said quote we can't affordto lose more nuns because we
already must import them fromother lands and I'd like the
missing ones back becauselaundry is piling up.
Ah, what a life those nuns mustlive.
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Can you imagine having youronly reason for existence to be
to wash the dirty underwear ofmen?
Those are the people I feelsorriest for, those who have
been told over and over theyhave no purpose.
They have no, no value andtheir only good is work meals.
So I wish to make this officialannouncement.
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If there is anyone who wishesto escape such an existence,
perhaps such as these nuns, Ioffer up a sanctuary for you.
If you find your way here orfind a way to ask for help, I
will offer you food, shelter anda job, so long as you come of
your own free will and vow notto bring those hateful
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constructs into this space.
And just for the record, thenun is not missing.
I know exactly where she is atand she is finally happy and
safe and not doing laundry.
All right, dear listeners,enough of that drivel, let's
(14:55):
speak of more interesting items.
The Generally Undead SupportGroup is still meeting every
Tuesday from 7 to 8 pm at theElysium Community Center, and
I've been asked to pass alongthat a new support group has
just formed for those whoselives have been wrecked by a
Mount Olympus god be it rape,being shifted into an animal
(15:17):
unwillingly killed, or had yourliver eaten by an eagle or been
devoured by your father.
You should know that there isspace and support for you.
This new group will meet onThursday evenings from 7 to 8 pm
at the community center, it hasbeen noted that a group of
(15:39):
feral ravens has been spottedgraffitying the walls of the
amphitheater with rather rudelimericks.
If anyone has any informationor knows who to contact to get
them to stop or perhaps speaksCorvid please contact Dave with
the Public Works Department.
Now it's time to turn ourattention to the weather, both
(16:03):
here in the underworld and inthe upper world side of town.
Dark spring has finally arrived, wrapped in a bluster of wind,
rain and a smattering of snow.
Only the bravest buds havedared to open soft petals to
these cold skies, but many moreare following suit.
These rains are here to washaway the last of winter's grasp,
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to shake off what sleep holdstight and to bring us all awake.
For the next several daysexpect cold rain, showers,
resist planting.
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Anything that has notdetermined for itself it can
brave the chilly nights, andthat includes you.
The world is waking up, castingoff sleep and dreams.
New lives are beginning, newgrowth is emerging.
Know that, even if the wintertook you down to bare roots,
that even death dies in thespring and we can always begin
again.
So to you watching the AuroraBorealis, to those watching the
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world come out of hibernation.
Welcome back to this new life.
Let's make it a good one.
Big Midges Oracles are broughtto you today with support from
Dionysus Winery, where they wantme to let you know that the
classic Jug of Wine is on salethis month.
Buy one, get one half off.
(17:31):
Sale this month Buy one, getone half off.
And if you are a member of theDionysian Mystery Cult then you
get triple reward points foreach purpose.
Remember, when you think drunk,think Dionysus.
Now I must say that Big Midge'sidea of having you submit your
(17:51):
queries to her via email hasbeen an overwhelming success.
It's much easier to send anemail than trudge out to the old
Oracle's temple, so let'sembrace this as a positive
change.
Remember, if you have queriesfor her, please email oracle at
hysteriablackwellcom and shewill give me the answers to pass
along.
Big Midge wants everyone to knowshe absolutely loves her new
(18:12):
house.
There's no hint of mold and itis much warmer than the cave.
I had tea with her the otherday and I must say I love what
she has done with the place sofar.
It's warm and cozy, with lotsof natural light, a far cry from
the old temple that was inmajor need of restoration.
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She has started anight-blooming garden which is
full of moonflowers and eveningprimrose and night-blooming
jasmine.
Thousands of moss descended onus in the moonlight even our
dear luna moss and madethemselves drunk from the scent
of the flowers.
It's a lovely and serene home.
Here are the questions andresponses directly from Big
(18:56):
Midge herself.
Oracle number one Dear BigMidge, this may be a strange
query, but a group of riversprites has approached me to
join them in battle against abeaver building a dam away up
from their riverside city.
This dam is causing majorissues, namely with diverting
(19:18):
the river.
They need for survival.
I'm all for helping, but Idon't really see myself as a
warrior and I'm not sure what todo.
Sincerely, do we really need togo to war?
Do we Really Need to Go to War,dear?
Do we really need to go to war?
Ride at dawn, take every swordyou can muster.
(19:39):
The cost may be high and itwill take work to make things
right, but you will prevail.
Beware of teeth.
Oracle number two dear Big Midge, how does one get into Valhalla
?
I have a sword.
I've killed some things.
I'm a pretty badass warrior, ifI say so myself.
(20:00):
I've got a hundred ladiesswooning over me and they're
singing songs about me at thelocal tavern.
I'm pretty sure I meet all therequirements, so I'd like an
invite.
Sincerely, alpha.
Dear Alpha, that is a questionfor a Valkyrie, not an Oracle.
As you are aware, onlyValkyries can bring warriors
(20:23):
into Valhalla.
Maybe they just don't like you,I don't know.
Have you tried asking nicely?
Tried asking nicely.
Oracle number three dear BigMidge, I've asked a rather
fascinating woman out multipletimes by inviting her over to my
house to help find my keys.
I don't think she gets that.
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I'm asking her out on a date.
She just keeps telling me wheremy keys are.
How could I phrase this in away that she'll understand?
Sincerely, brunhild.
Dear Brunhild, oh, why?
Yes, I would love to come overfor dinner.
Thank you very much.
Will Friday work?
Excellent, thank you, big Midge, and best of luck on your date.
(21:08):
Again, if you have questionsfor the Oracle, please drop her
a line at oracle, atasteriablackwellcom.
(21:32):
Now, dear listeners, it is timefor a story from the library.
This one found me, fortunately,as I was exploring deep in the
stacks one sunny afternoon.
I was somewhere near thesection for classic tales as
told by newts, toads and frogs.
Or maybe it was near thesection on dreams, I forget, but
(21:54):
as I perused I heard a strangenoise coming from a far aisle.
It sounded like a rustling ormaybe a hissing.
It was hard to tell, but Iswear that sound began to call
my name.
My name, not my title aspriestess or my role as
librarian, but my name as womanAsteria, it whispered.
(22:18):
Asteria.
Thankfully, I had an extra rollof ribbon, so I asked the olive
tree to hold one in for me andI took the other and went out
towards what called me.
I walked for ages further andfurther into the deepest
sections.
I used all my ribbon and had toresort to pulling books from
(22:41):
shelves and leaving them on theground as a makeshift pathway.
Books from shelves and leavingthem on the ground as a
makeshift pathway.
The light grew dim and shadowedand a strange, deeply dense
grove of trees began to crowd mein.
They were all alight, with deepred leaves, and the color of
(23:04):
their bark seemed to run red too.
On and on, the whispers calledme forward.
Listeners, I must tell you.
What I witnessed next was bothmajestic and horrifying.
Please, before I continue, Iwant you to take a moment with
me to breathe in deeply downinto your chest and diaphragm
(23:25):
and when you release it, put upany mental wards you may need
for the next several minutes.
I have dreams of this encounterevery night now and it has
barely left my waking mind.
It has left such a permanentmark on my soul I'm not quite
sure how to process this yet.
(23:47):
I rather think it will take along time, maybe centuries, I'm
not sure.
I came to a clearing in thosetrees, a small one, no more than
a few paces in any direction.
A thick carpet of fallen redleaves covered the center of the
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clearing, and in the middle laythe headless body of a woman.
She had not decayed in any way.
A gentle current of bloodflowed around her, blood that
shimmered red and gold, bloodthat shimmered red and gold.
Her white garments, edged ingold, remained unstained and
(24:33):
undamaged.
She seemed to float there,serene, suspended.
In this moment that was bothhorrible and beautiful.
There was a quiet pulse ofvibration in the ground, a
heartbeat.
Pulse of vibration in theground, a heartbeat Without a
doubt.
I knew in my bones that I hadcome across the living heart of
our library, the most vulnerableand sacred spot hidden in the
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furthest reaches.
I'd rather say the spot may notreveal itself to everyone who
goes searching for it At somepoint maybe minutes later or
hours, I can't say but there wasa shadow of movement and
suddenly beside me was the mostbeautiful ghost I had ever seen.
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She had long black hair thatfell in curls down her back and
a golden diadem pinned at thetop.
Around her upper arm was agolden snake bracelet that held
a single ruby eye shining in thedarkness.
She had her face turned towardsthe body in front of us.
(25:42):
Please sit, she said.
The body in front of us, pleasesit, she said.
A marble bench appeared behindus and I sank down onto it.
The ghost with me.
You understand who I once was,do you not?
She asked.
I would be a poor librarian andan even poorer priestess of
(26:05):
Athene's library library if Idid not.
Lady Medusa, I replied.
As soon as Athene's name crossedmy lips, the ghost stiffened
and I realized that that was thewrong thing to say.
I should have known better, butmy brain seemed to not be
working properly.
My brain seemed to not beworking properly.
(26:28):
I have no desire to speak ofher.
Medusa said the words quick andpointed as a stake.
I caught sight of something inthe shadows a glint of silver,
like a helmet catching sunlight.
The hairs on the back of myneck raised and I was certain we
(26:49):
were not alone, but Medusaseemed not to notice.
She said nothing for a longtime, keeping her eyes fixed on
the body.
I want to tell a differentpiece of my tale, if you would
hear it.
She turned to me then.
Enough for me to see her eyes,the sort of eyeshine that you
see in wild animals, except herswas shining silver as the moon.
(27:12):
Nothing would please me morethan to hear it and share it if
you wish.
I replied.
I turned my body away from theshadows in the forest and faced
her.
She nodded, looked down andplaced her hands silently in her
lap.
And so be it.
(27:37):
I withdrew a small notebookfrom my traveling bag.
I learned to never go anywherewithout one.
I had my pencil and I opened toa fresh page.
He took my head, medusa began.
I didn't need to ask who tookit, for it was always a man.
His name has been spoken aloudenough that I will not do it
here, not now.
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He has enough books of hisstory story, she continued.
He took my head and turned itinto his trophy, holding it up
for the entire world to see howpowerful he was, but he didn't
bother to tell the world.
He attacked me in my sleep whenI was defenseless, when I could
(28:21):
offer no fight.
Even with that advantage, hestill needed divine help from
the gods and her mind, youfeeding him directions and
special gifts so that he couldaccomplish this unnecessarily
gruesome goal.
And for what reason?
For nothing other than an oldking's fear.
(28:42):
I still hear that shout ofvictory ringing in my ears, just
as loud now that I am a shade,just as loud as when I first
heard them watching my body fallto the ground.
Medusa paused and I sat silentwaiting.
A single oak leaf fluttered tothe ground, yet he so casually
(29:11):
forgot about the rest of me.
She said the body and the wombleft behind to rot considered
unimportant, extraneous, nothingto bother with.
For what power could be hadfrom a woman's body?
Nothing, he assumed.
So he walked off to display histrophy, only earned because of
(29:36):
borrowed knowledge and stolenstrength.
Without a second thought, Iturned my eyes back to that body
.
Now, realization setting inMedusa's head had been paraded
around for centuries and Athenehad taken it and affixed it to
her shield.
(29:56):
Medusa had been nothing but aweapon.
Even in death, the body hadnever been affected by the
terrible curse laid upon thehead.
For those of you who fellasleep in your mythology classes
, medusa was once a priestess inAthene's temple, but Poseidon
(30:17):
brutally assaulted her in thetemple and, as a result, her
once beautiful hair was turnedinto a mess of snakes and her
eyes would turn anyone shelooked upon to stone.
Everyone wanted the weapon hereyes had become, but no one
cared about the rest of her.
(30:38):
Women like me, the ones who showour anger and bare our teeth.
We become beacons for theswords and arrows of spineless
men.
The angrier I became, the moremy blood called out to them.
Like a siren, it clawed intotheir brains and whispered of
how pitiful, how weak, how trulymortal they were, and that no
(31:03):
one would bother to rememberthem when they are gone.
She looked up to the sky.
He killed me for that anger,and there was nothing left after
that.
My life ended in a moment, andyet my rage did not quit me.
I am still tethered here tothis angry body, this river of
(31:27):
blood that refuses to cease, nomatter how badly I wish it would
.
We sat in silence for a longwhile.
I'm tired of being angry.
She whispered I want to behappy, I want to be free,
(31:50):
whispered I want to be happy, Iwant to be free.
A flash of pink and greencaught my eye and I saw that my
dear friend, the Luna Moth, hadswept in and landed on Medusa's
knee.
She flexed her wings and waitedfor me to translate.
She is asking if you wish tocome with her.
I, luna, waved her antenna atme and I went on.
If you choose, she will enchantyou with a body like hers and
(32:16):
you can fly wherever you chooseand no one will.
She is asking if you wish tocome with her.
I said luna waved her antennaat me and she is asking if you
(32:40):
wish to come with her.
I said luna waved her antennaand I went on.
If you choose, she will enchantyou with a body like hers and
you can fly wherever you chooseand answer to no one for as long
as you desire.
Medusa looked at me and thenback down to the Luna moth
(33:02):
shimmering on her leg.
Back down to the Luna Mothshimmering on her leg.
Truly, she asked I would befree of this body, of it all.
Truly I said, and with that Isaid the spell that would allow
her to understand the languageof the moss, a spell I learned
(33:25):
many winters ago from a goddessof spring.
Luna then repeated her offerand Medusa put a hand to her
mouth in shock.
I can understand her.
She said she sounds beautifuland yes, yes, I want to come
with you.
Then so be it, luna said.
Medusa's ghost shimmered softlyfor a moment and then morphed
(33:50):
into a spectacular Luna mothwith blood red edges on her
wings, shifting into a softgreen in the middle.
She flexed those new wings once, twice, and then her and Luna
took off to the stars, leavingme alone with a corpse among the
ruby red trees.
(34:13):
Her story buzzed in my bones asI sat and watched them fly away,
until a hefty rustle scared meenough that I dropped my
notebook and pencil into thatpool of blood.
I dropped my notebook andpencil into that pool of blood.
I looked up just as a largewhite owl soared overhead
opposite of the direction of themoths.
Athene had been eavesdropping,so it seems.
(34:36):
I retrieved my notebook and Iam happy to report that, though
the blood soaked through all ofthe pages, it did not mar a
single word.
I had recorded that blood doesmake one's skin tingle and for
nearly a week I have beenwriting non-stop and dreaming of
(34:56):
that encounter.
And I am shunned sure as Iretrieved my notebook and I'm
happy to report that, eventhough the blood soaked all the
way through the pages, it didnot mar a single word I had
recorded.
The touch of that blood doesmake one's skin tingle and for
(35:23):
nearly a week I had beennon-stop and dreaming of that
encounter.
I don't know if it will stop.
Medusa's blood has ignited afire in me, one of rage and
newfound hope, and I can onlywish that her words will do the
same for the ones who need tohear them most.
(36:07):
Dear listeners, I must tell youhow deeply this story has
altered the very core of me.
Medusa, like so many others,has waited alone to be found and
heard.
It is my honor to hold thisplace for them and for you, in
supporting this endeavor.
This is our great lost libraryof Elysium, home at last, the
(36:28):
shining beacon of knowledge andlearning.
Twice a month, I will bring youa story from the archives, so
be sure to join me as we explorethis magical world.
We by which I mean me and thislibrary are excited to share
(36:50):
these stories with you.
I welcome your feedback.
Please email me at asteria, atasteriablackwellcom, which I
will also list in the writtenshow notes, or stop by the main
circulation desk for a chat.
My name is Asteria Blackwelland you have been listening to
Stories from the Lost Library onElysium Public Radio.
This has been a production ofElysium Public Radio and Sandy
(37:18):
Lynn Studio.
Our music is written andperformed by Scott Buckley.
Today's story was written andnarrated by Sandy Lin.
Follow us on Instagram andTikTok under the handle Asteria
Blackwell For more informationon the show or to obtain a
library card for the LostLibrary of Elysium, or perhaps
(37:40):
to join our mystery cult.
Then find us on Substack atasteriablackwellsubstackcom.
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