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sellinbees · 5 years

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Creatures of the Week

From the Myths and Legends Podcast

I’ve been searching around for a list of all the creatures of the week from the Myths and Legends podcast, but hadn’t really found anything. So I decided to make the list myself. Seeing as my only followers are porn-bots and my sister, I’m likely talking to myself.

Ep. 1A) Huldefolk (Iceland)

Ep. 1B) Changelings (Ireland)

Ep. 1C) Akename (Japan)

Ep. 2A) Alp (German)

Ep. 2B) Encantado (Brazil)

Ep. 3A) Barbegazi (Swiss, French)

Ep. 3B) Fossegrim (Scandinavian)

Ep. 3C) Clurichaun (Irish)

Ep. 3D) Bakezori (Japanese)

Ep. 3E) Cat Sìth (Scottish)

Ep. 4) Hidebehind (USA)

Ep. 5A) Boo Hag (USA)

Ep. 5B) Kapre (Philippines)

Ep. 6A) Mooinjer Veggey (Gaelic)

Ep. 6B) Qiqirn (Inuit)

Ep. 6C) Dullahan (Irish)

Ep. 7) Satori (Japanese)

Ep. 8) Kikimora (Slavic)

Ep. 9) Nuno Sa Punso (Philippines)

Ep. 10A) Squonk (USA)

Ep. 10B) Kamaitachi (Japanese)

Ep. 11) Fynoderee (Manx/Isle of Man)

Ep. 12) Oozlum Bird (Australia/British)

Ep. 13A) Şüräle (Turkic)

Ep. 13B) Saci (Brazil)

Ep. 15) Tikbalang (Philippines)

Ep. 16) Babanshee (Scotland)

Ep. 17A) Lidérc (Hungary)

Ep. 17B) Leshy (Russia)

Ep. 17C) Muryans (Cornish)

Ep. 19) Bunyip (Australia)

Ep. 20) Hyakume (Japanese)

Ep. 21) Vodyanoy (Slavic)

Ep. 22A) Manociello (Italy)

Ep. 22B) Nguruvilu (Chile)

Ep. 22C) Tokoloshe (South Africa)

Ep. 23) Wood Wife (Germany) (Couldn’t catch the German name, Gernweibel or something)

Ep. 24) Patupaiarehe (Māori)

Ep. 25) Para, Butter Cat (!) (Finland)

Ep. 26) Blue Men of the Minch (Scotland)

Ep. 27A) Mahaha (Intuit)

Ep. 27B) Penanggalan (Malaysia)

Ep. 27C) Mandragora (Europe)

Ep. 28) Gooseberry Wife (Isle of White)

Ep. 29) Itachi (Japan)

Ep. 30) Abatwa (South Africa)

Ep. 31A) Drak (English, French, Scottish)

Ep. 31B) Abbey Lubbers, Buttery Sprites (England)

Ep. 32) Kludde (Belgium)

Ep. 33) Nix (Scandinavia, Germany, Switzerland)

Ep. 34) Gashadokuro (Japan)

Ep. 35) Papa Boi (Trinidad)

Ep. 36A) Langsuir (West Malaysia)

Ep. 36B) Ra/Radandar (Sweden)

Ep. 37) Mamagwasewug (Native American)

Ep. 38A) Sala (Arabia)

Ep. 38B) Cactus Cat (USA)

Ep. 39) Sandman (German)

Ep. 40) Hyōsube (Japan)

Ep. 41A) Gumberoo (USA)

Ep. 41B) Korrigan (British Isle)

Ep. 41C) Laminak (Basque)

Ep. 42) Lutin (France)

Ep. 43) Abda (Russia)

Ep. 44) Aobōzo (Japan)

Ep. 45) Poludnica (Slovenia)

Ep. 46A) Puckwugie (Native American)

Ep. 46B) Roaring Bull of Bagberry (Wales, England)

Ep. 46C) Sea Trow (Orkney Islands)

Ep. 46D) Selkie (Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Denmark)

Ep. 47) Kuchisake-onna (Japan)

Ep. 48) Sensabansum, Shamatin (Ashanti) (Not sure about the spelling on this one. Couldn’t seem to find it online.)

Ep. 49) Lake Worth Monster (USA)

Ep. 50) Skogsrå (Swedish)

Ep. 51) Sleigh Beggy (Isle of Man)

Ep. 52) Shirime (Japan)

Ep. 53) Leprechaun (Ireland)

Ep. 54A) Bugul Noz (Brittany)

Ep. 54B) Splinter Cat (USA)

Ep. 54C) Grogoch (Ireland)

Ep. 55) Gwrach y Rhibyn (Wales)

Ep. 56) Habitrot (Scotland)

Ep. 57) Hedley Kow (England)

Ep. 58) Likho (Russia)

Ep. 59) Nakki (Finland)

Ep. 60A) Yara-ma-yha-who (Aboriginal Australia)

Ep. 60B) Baku (Japan)

Ep. 60C) Snallygaster (USA)

Ep. 61) Side-hill Gouger (USA)

Ep. 62) Aitvaras (Lithuania)

Ep. 63) Callicantzaros (Greece, Serbia, Albania, Bulgaria, Italy)

Ep. 64) Koa (Perú)

Ep. 65) Tanooki (Japan)

Ep. 66) Agropelter, Wind Tosser (USA)

Ep. 67A) Chin Chin Kobakama (Japan, China)

Ep. 67B) Churn-milk-Peg, Melchstik (England)

Ep. 68A) Nain Rouge (USA)

Ep. 68B) Fishman (Spain)

Ep. 69) Leontophone (Europe)

Ep. 70) Loveland Frog Man (USA)

Ep. 71A) Muscalia/Hot Squirrel (France)

Ep. 71B) Abonsum (West Africa)

Ep. 71C) Adaro (Polynesia)

Ep. 72) Shojo (Japan)

Ep. 73) Skunk Ape (USA)

Ep. 74) Ball-tailed cat, Colombia River Sand Squink

Ep. 75) Mongolian Death Worm (Mongolia)

Ep. 76) Al (North Africa, Afghanistan)

Ep. 77) Alkutane (USA, Canada)

Ep. 78) Joint Eater (Ireland)

Ep. 79) Ant-lion (Greece)

Ep. 80A) Flying Head (Iroquois)

Ep. 80B) Gargoyle (France)

Ep. 81) Axe-Handle Hound (USA), Aufhawker (Germany) (Don’t know how to spell it)

Ep. 82A) Asazusta (Persia) (Also couldn’t find spelling >:( )

Ep. 82B) Azuki Arai (Japan)

Ep. 83) Baital (India)

Ep. 84) Bakeneko (Japan)

Ep. 85A) Barometz (Central Asia)

Ep. 85B) Big Ears (Scotland)

Ep. 86) Bisaan (Jakun, West Malaysia)

Ep. 88) Kenmun (Japan)

Ep. 89) Cugrino? Koogreeno? (West India) (Can’t find spelling)

Ep. 90) Caladrius (Rome)

Ep. 91) Camahueto (Chilé)

Ep. 92) Carizonin? (India, Central Africa) (On a bad streak here)

Ep. 93A) Centichora? (Greece) (I literally cannot find these things anymore)

Ep. 93B) Cerastes (Greece)

Ep. 94) Gloso (Switzerland), Nisse (Denmark)

Ep. 95A) Cherufe (Chilé)

Ep. 95B) Kamikiri (Japan)

Ep. 96) Cinnamon Bird (Arabian/Greek)

Ep. 97) Crommyonian Sow (Greece)

Ep. 98) Chonchon (Chilé)

Ep. 99) Cockatrice (British)

Ep. 100A) Dungavenhooter (USA)

Ep. 100B) Cuero (South America)

Ep. 101) Inugami (Japan)

Ep. 102) Dinabarata? (Australia) (How could I not find an emu centaur?!)

Ep. 103) Dokkaebi (Korea)

Ep. 104) Vegetable Man (USA)

Ep. 105A) Dorotabo (Japan)

Ep. 105B) Dragua (Albania)

Ep. 106A) Empusa (Greece)

Ep. 106B) Ethiopian Dragon (Ethiopia/Europe)

Ep. 106C) Big Grey Man of Ben MacDhui (Scotland)

Ep. 107A) Flitterick (USA)

Ep. 107B) Funeral Mountain Terrashot (USA)

Ep. 108) Fur-Bearing Trout (USA, Canada, Iceland)

Ep. 109) Fairy Cow, Fuwch Gyfeiliorn (Wales)

Ep. 110) Gagait (Native American)

Ep. 111) Gazarium? (USA) (Some french fry tasting shrimp thing)

Ep. 112A) Hakapezini?/ Grasshopper ogre (Kawaiisu)

Ep. 112B) Hai Ho Shang (China)

Ep. 112C) Kappa (Japan)

Ep. 113) Hackulack? (Tsimshian Native Americans) (Couldnt find it)

Ep. 114A) Haymah? (Arabia)

Ep. 114B) Hama ukiu? (Morocco) (Three in a row...)

Ep. 115) Hannya (Japan)

Ep. 116A) Headless Mule (Brazil)

Ep. 116B) Helhest (Denmark)

Ep. 117) Hili (Lesotho)

Ep. 118) Hinkumenin (Cordelain, Canada) (Sentient Lake, cant find spelling)

Ep. 119) Hua-Hu-Tiao (China)

Ep. 120A) Hvcko Capko (Seminole Native Americans)

Ep. 120B) Hippocampus (Greece)

Ep. 121) Eelay (Romania) (Can’t find spelling)

Ep. 122) Kasha (Japan)

Ep. 123) Ilomba (Zambia)

Ep. 124) Impundulu (South Africa)

Ep. 125) Invunche (Chile)

Ep. 126) Jiangshi (China)

Ep. 127) Baskethead/Isitwalangcengce (Zulu)

Ep. 128) Hook girl/Harionago

Ep. 129A) Jackelope (USA)

Ep. 129B) Kakamora (Solomon Islands)

Ep. 130A) Kaki Besar (Malaysia)

Ep. 130B) Karakasa (Japan)

Ep. 130C) Karkanxholl (Albania)

Ep. 131A) Yule Lads (Iceland)

Ep. 131B) Pipe Fox (Japan)

Ep. 132A) Lady of the Land (Greek)

Ep. 132B) Leucrocotta (Greek)

Ep. 133) Loathly Worm (England)

Ep. 134) Lobishomen (Portugal)

Ep. 135A) The Snail (France)

Ep. 135B) Lugaru (Caribbean)

Ep. 135C) Luferlang (USA)

Ep. 136) Mama Dlo (Trinidad)

Ep. 137) Mamlambo (Zulu, South Africa)

Ep. 138) Star Monkey (Kenya)

Ep. 139A) Mester Stoor Worm (Scotland)

Ep. 139B) Kiyohime (Japan)

Ep. 140) Chupacabra (Mexico, Puerto Rico, Southwest US)

Ep. 141A) Betobeto-san (Japan)

Ep. 141B) Merman (Scotland, Ireland)

Ep. 141C) Milcham (Jewish)

Ep. 142A) Mimick Dog (Medieval Europe)

Ep. 142B) Minhocao (Brazil)

Ep. 143) Mora (Slavic)

Ep. 144) Mozalancha? (Africa) (Not sure about spelling)

Ep. 145) Moddey Dhoo (Isle of Man)

Ep. 146) Tomcod (USA)

Ep. 147A) Muldjewank (Aboriginal Australian)

Ep. 147B) Various Irish Creatures if you don’t keep the sabbath

Ep. 148A) Ningyo (Japan)

Ep. 148B) Nuzuzuu (Africa)

Ep. 149) Nobusuma (Japan)

Ep. 150A) Obariyon (Japan)

#myths and legends #myths and legends podcast #jason weiser #carissa weiser #creature of the week

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deathsmallcaps · 5 years

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The Palace of the Eagles The Eyrie

I listen to the Myths and Legends podcast by Jason and Carissa Weiser, and episode 118 really stuck with me. In fact, I decided to stick it into rotation for the coloring story books I’m making for my little cousins, (I release one story a month for my *Win A Commission contest), and so I looked up a version of it I could use. But the ones I found online lacked as much detail, so I decided to use the podcast version.

That was sort of a mistake. You see, they don’t give transcripts out for free. Understandably of course, as they are well written and they have to make their living. But that meant I had to do a lot of work.

So this here, under the cut, is the fruit of my efforts to write the episode down. There is minimal changes, as I’m sure some words escaped my notice, but some of what I converted to dialogue or into paragraphs may also be a bit clunky. Italics is more for how Jason added a couple personal thoughts to the story. But anyway, if you’re a fan or the show and/or the story, here you go!

I actually don't know much about the origin of the story. I found it in the collection of Jewish folklore published in 1919, by a woman by the name of Gertrude Landa. It's a folktale, so it's not really linked to anything historical and its in kind of a faraway fantastical land. So we’ll just jump right in.

Far to the East, even farther than the rising sun, the story says, there existed a kingdom. It sat in a peninsula, that stretched far into the ocean. It was a rich in bountiful and where no one wanted for anything. It lived in such luxury that, well, no one really did anything.

Most of all, the King.

You know, I once had a boss who got in at 10:30am and left at 2pm. So that means if you really wanted to push it, you could get there at 10:15am and leave at 2:30. Not that I ever did that, Mr. Reynolds.

But that's what the King's advisors did. He liked his naps and daytime drinking and hunting expeditions and literally anything other than being a ruler. He ordered his advisors to manage the Kingdom for him, and for a while they did. Until they didn't. You see, when you get a taste of spending all day not worKing, it's really hard to force yourself to wake up and manage a Kingdom for a guy who wakes up and spends all his time partying. Soon the people who should have been managing the Kingdom in the place the guy whose hereditary responsibility was to manage the Kingdom just stopped showing up altogether.

Worse yet, they really started to stick their claws in and started extracting more and more from the people.

For a time everything seems fine. The land was fertile, the ocean bountiful and the people basically peaceful. Then, things began to change.

The weather grew colder one year. Then even colder the next. At first the people had enough, and then just barely not enough. The fish population started to wither, and the following summer was dry, hit by drought.

Soon, things became so bad that the King himself actually had to do some work. His advisors pestered him to rise before 11am, like a commoner. They said they wanted to let him sleep, but the people, the people were out front. They were hungry, the advisors said. And they worried that things were too far gone. Of course they still had the royal food storage, the one they had filled up by taking heavy taxes from the people. But if that dwindled, the entire Kingdom, including the King, would have no protection against the whims of nature. Another cold winter or hot summer, that could be the end of them.

The King laughed it off. “Okay, okay, okay,” he would take some time off that day and save the entire Kingdom. “You're welcome.”

He threw open the doors and stepped out onto the balcony. He announced to the crowd that he knew they were hungry, and he was going to save them. One man yelled back from below, asking him if he was going to open the royal food stores for his starving people.

The King held up both hands. “Whoa, okay, let’s not get drastic.” He was going to hunt. A lot. They probably didn't know this, because they were all scraping by trying not to starve, but the King spent a lot of time hunting. Almost all the time, actually. He was really great at it, and he would single-handedly kill enough animals to feed the entire Kingdom. That afternoon. And they can take that to the bank. “Well, not really because there is a run on the banks that morning and they’re completely bankrupt.”

That obvoiusly wasn’t quite the pep talk the people needed, but at least they were heartened by their stupid, stupid King's confidence. Besides, they never really got to eat a lot of meat, so this might be nice.

On the return trip into town, the King ordered his Royal Guard to surround him. He just needed to get back into the palace safely. If he could return to the palace, everything would be fine. The King had to lie, kind of a lot, to make it inside before the riots began.

He had shot one underweight boar, six rabbits, and a handful of squirrels. That was it. Barely enough for his own dinner, let alone the city. The winters and summers had reduced the animals’ food and water, and thus had reduced the animals.

At this point, the King called together his counselors and demanded to know what he should do. His advisors threw out a lot of good ideas, like to run away, or hole up in the castle with the rest of the food, until the commoners sorted everything out, and pray that next spring will be enough for the survivors to replant and hopefully get everything back on track.

The King sat back. Those were appealing options, definitely. More so the running away part. He didn't think he’d be able to sleep very well with all the starving people complaining in the streets. So, hypothetically, if they were going to run, which way would they go?

The advisers pulled out of map. They could really only go east, across the ocean. Granted, those that have gone that way before, had either sailed for a month straight and found nothing, or had been lost to pirates. The King pointed to the map. To the mountains. “What about west?”

The advisors laughed. You couldn’t go west. No one had gone west. Though they lived in a peninsula, there was a miles long barrier of rocks, impassable to horses and carriages. No one had ever managed to make it more than halfway. Sailing west wasn't an option either. As far as anyone had ventured up the coast, it was a sheer cliff surrounded by sharp rocks jutting up from the ocean. No captain dare to sail close to it. No. West was out. So if they were going to flee, they would risk the pirates and head east. The King looked at each of his advisors.

And what if he wasn't going to flee. Confused, the advisers hesitated. They didn't understand. The King started pacing back and forth. His people were starving, and despite his extremely minimal effort, which also happened to be the most work he had done in months, he couldn't save them by doing the same things. “What if, just beyond the mountains, there were people that can help? What if there were fields they could tame, or waters full of fish, and forests full of game?” What if he could save his people?

One bold advisor asked if it even mattered what they said. He was just going to do it anyway, wasn’t he?

The King, lost in thought and already packing, looked up briefly. “Did he say something?”

That very night, the King slipped out of the city. It was easy with the riots in the chaos. He had taken his hunting party and his best knights, and together they camped for the evening by the barrier, on the edge of their world.

In the morning, the King woke early with a start. Early rays illuminated the rocks, and he grinned. “The people that have been sent before, they were commoners, right?’

The knights thought about it. “Yeah, why?”

The King shrugged. “It wasn’t their fault, but they didn't understand the old ways. The ancient tongues. Someone had chipped away at the rock here, and to someone who hadn't been relentlessly educated against his will in ancient languages by a royal tutor, it just looked like an odd crack in the rocks. It wasn’t, though.” It was a symbol, a word. It meant:

Here.

It took the better part of the morning, before they were able, with ropes and pulleys and a wedge, to wrangle the massive rock free from the opening.

And it was an opening. A dark tunnel that stretched far into the rocks. It looked like it was naturally formed, now one had hewn it from the rocks. And yet it had been closed off. Why?

The King smiled and pointed down into the darkness. It seemed that the mountains weren't impassible anymore. It was time to go see what was on the other side.

Progress was slow going. The hidden passage became so narrow in some spots that they had to walk sideways, and inching along. At the first neck, they had sent the horses back the capitol with one of the men, and continued on foot. Wider spots opened occasionally where the band could stop to rest, and by evening, they saw the light of the setting sun poking through the shadows up ahead. After hours upon hours of walKing in the dark, they arrived. Finally, on the other side of the mountains. For the first time in their history, someone had gone west.

But it was cold, and barren. They couldn’t see much of the setting sun. As they squinted towards the highlands, stretching off into the distance, there wasn’t farmland, only mountains and barren crags.

The King blinked and squinted again. It was far away, barely visible, but he saw it. He was sure of it. It was this silhouette against the darkness, but it was there. A tower. There were people west of the mountains. He smiled. Maybe all hope wasn't lost quite yet.

When he awoke the next morning, the King commanded his knights and hunting party make all haste towards the tower. His people were dying, and they needed to move as quickly as possible if he was going to save them.

The land was vast, and beautiful, and despite a tower being so close, the hunters said with certainty that no foot had ever trod in that region. Not in hundreds of years at least. The trees were old, older than any on the eastern side of the mountains, and they gnarled into fantastic shapes. The whole countryside had an eerie stillness to it. They saw no people, no animals, not even insects.

Over the next four days, the royal guards stayed close to their King, and the hunters scattered out in all directions, as they made their way to the tower. Every hunter returned at the end of the day, saying that there was nothing, nothing at all in any direction. This place was as still has a tomb. When they finally heard a river, it came at them like a deafening flood, after the stillnesses of the previous few days. By the dawn of the fifth day, they arrived at the river that encircled the base the mountains.

The King glanced up. And his heart sank. There was a walkway, but it was overgrown with moss and trees, and it had collapsed in some places. There weren’t people here to maintain it. By the look of it, this place had been abandoned hundreds of years ago. The King ordered the hunters to stay below, to keep scouting in all directions. They had to find a field, fertile soil, animals, something. Even if it meant bringing his people through the mountains, and leaving their homes, he wanted them to live. As for him, he was going to climb, to see what the top of the mountain held. Maybe there would be some answer up there. At the very least, they could see for miles. Maybe there would be some way to save his people.

It was another two days of climbing before they reached the base of the tower. And from that vantage point, the King could see that it wasn't just a tower on the mountains, it was actually a small city, built into the stone. The King took another step, and then nearly fell hundreds of feet to the sharp rocks below.

In that moment, he heard it. The first sign of life.

The Eagle flapped its enormous wings. It must have been twice the size of the largest Royal Guard member. It screeched when it saw the party maKing their way up the mountain, in its soar to its peak, the tallest tower. The King looked back at his guard, who weren’t nearly as bewildered as he was. They tapped their crossbows hanging on their backs, and nodded. And so, they continued their climb.

There wasn’t just a city at the top of the mountain, but a vast palace. The palace alone was bigger than any the King had ever seen. It was bigger than his own town. The King stood in awe, and said that they should try to find a way inside. Obediently, the royal guard split up, and began looking around.

The King thought it was the oddest thing. It was the largest, most impressive palace he’d ever seen, but there wasn’t a single door or window. His men scoured the perimeter, but found only a shear stone wall. Pulled from his thoughts, the King’s attention fell to the sounds of squawKing and yelling.There was trouble.

He rushed to the courtyard where one of his knights stood, his knife to a baby Eagle’s throat. Wings beat above him, already darkening the skies of the courtyard. “Hey!” the knight yelled. “Muflog, can I get a little help here?”

Muflog, one of the King’s closest advisors and wise men, ran to the knight and threw up his arms. The King thought it would be nice to deescalate, but they were wild animals, birds. He ordered the knights to ready their crossbows. His knight had done this stupid thing by going to one of the Eagles’ nests, but they weren’t going to die for his mistake.

But the knights did not ready their crossbows. Instead, they watched Muflog bow low before one of the birds. It began making several alternating shrill and guttural shrieks. He turned to the knight holding the knife and whispered, “Let the bird go.”

He did, and all the Eagles circled and perched. Well, almost all the Eagles. Muflog faced the offending knight, and said he was sorry. He'd had to make a deal.

Immediately, an Eagle swooped down, with talons as big as the knight’s leg, and lifted him into the air. The knight screamed, his shouts fading as he disappeared into the clouds. The baby flew back to her parents, and everyone resumed breathing once again. Clearing his throat, the King approached Muflog, asKing him, “What … what was all that?”

Muflog shrugged. He was just straight with the birds. He admitted that they were scared of the creatures, and the humans had come to this land looking for food, because their people were dying. And the knight was a coward. It wasn’t Muflog’s first choice to give up the knight, but the man took a giant Eagle baby from her angry, giant Eagle mommy. “What did he expect was going to happen? Anyway, he was going to get eaten anyway, seeing as he didn’t speak their language, and they were angry, hungry birds of prey.”

The King nodded. “I just don't get how you were able to talk to birds, you know? That was the confusing part.” Muflog shrugged again. It was pretty well known he could talk to birds. He took a few electives at the community college.

Anyway, Muflog then told the King that the Eagles lived a the top of the tall tower. The kidnapped baby was a young one, a spry 700 year old. She was the granddaughter of the King, who was nearly two thousand years old.

The King sighed. “Oh, okay, this is nice.” They just finished scaling a mountain, and now they had to climb the tallest tower, occupied bt angry birds older than recorded time. The King turned to Muflog, and asked if maybe the Eagles could give them a ride.

However, Muflog knew better than to ask. Not wanting to push his luck, Muflog squawked some gibberish towards the clouds and shook his head when no reply followed. Giving strangers a ride wasn't something the Eagles did. And so the King and his crew began their climb toward the top of the tallest tower.

The King, Muflog and the one other knight brave enough to climb the tower threw themselves up over the side and shivered. They were so high off the ground, but no matter, they had made it, and they had a job to do.

Across the room, their missing knight lay sleeping at the talons of the Eagle King, the grandfather who ruled over everything on this side of the mountains. The King stole a glance at the surrounding countryside below the tower, and his shoulders slumped. There was nothing. For as far as he could see, there was only highlands, uninhabitable and inhospitable. No life. No people. There was nothing on this side of the mountains that could save his people.

He directed Muflog to wake the Eagle King. They needed to retrieve their knight, and they couldn’t climb down, let alone make a four day journey back, with angry eagles on their tail.

Muflog nudged to sleeping Eagle’s talons. Nothing. He shook it. Nothing. He tapped the feathery expanse that was the Eagle’s stomach. Nothing again. Everyone joined in, jumping on him like a bean bag chair, and eventually, the grandfather Eagle blinked awake.

Muflog bowed low, and screeched as he begged forgiveness for the wayward knight, asking if he could take their man home. He’d made such a stupid mistake.

The Eagle, fully awake, dismissed the request. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He was now transfixed on the face of the king. “How could this be? That the man had returned after 2,000 years?” The Eagle inched closer to the king. He said that the Eagles could have the palace, that’s what he said. That’s what he’d written. The Eagles were only doing what he’d asked.

The king shook his head. He wasn't 2,000 years old. He didn't tell the Eagle to do anything. He had a crown, sure, but a lot of kings have crowns.

The bird sat back. “Ohhh,” he thought it was part of the human king’s head. “Well, that made a lot of sense.” He said that the king looked like the king of old, but all humans kind of looked the same to him, so he could be wrong.

Through Muflog, the king kept talking to the old Eagle, asking him what happened to this place. The Eagle told him exactly what he had just said. One day, the Eagles were allowed here, and the old king sealed up the palace, and all of its secrets. He sealed up the thing that would keep them alive.

The King stepped backwards. That was interesting. Was there any way in?

“Maybe,” the Eagle replied, still pretty sleepy. When he arrived it was sealed. He was still a young bird then, and had absolutely no interest in getting inside. The nest was all they wanted. It kept them safe from the animals that used to roam these lands. Now, there was nothing. Nothing but stillness. The Eagle continued. None of the humans knew how to get in either. It was a secret, a secret none of the men knew, except for the last.

He has been an old, wise man who only returned to his home far too late, after it was sealed. One of the last things he uttered to the Eagles was the location of the door. It was where the first light at the palace, so they could always greet the dawn.

The king thought a moment. He had seen the miles and miles of emptiness surrounding the castle; there was nothing within a week's ride in any direction that could save his people. Maybe, just maybe, the secret was inside. Regardless, it was their last, and only hope.

At the morning’s rays first broke over the horizon, the King and his nights stood ready before the stone wall. There was no mistaking it. This was where the first light hit. The mountains made sure of that. One shaft of light hit the wall, and the king pointed. They had some digging to do after.

Two hours later, they found it. A seam. After six hours, they had unearthed the door. And by the next morning, all was ready. Whoever had sealed it didn't want it found, ever. The hinges had long since deteriorated, so they had to hack away the door. Finally, a hole appeared, and the King and the others recoiled. If there was a stillness outside in the forest, it was nothing compared to the stillness within.

They finished hacking away of what was left of the door, and began stepping inside. Inside was a stillness, a void, a silence so dead it could drive you mad. It was a building, a building bigger than their entire city. The party stood, frozen, as they took it all in. Inside were piles, piles upon piles of gold, diamonds, rubies, paintings, generations of spider webs from the arachnids that had managed to find a way in between the stones, hung from the ceiling, weighted down by dust. The great hall led into the throne room, and the knights and the King gripped their swords as they ventured closer. They found the throne room, but it had ceased being a throne room millenia ago. It was now a tomb.

Skeletons were scattered throughout the room. Some were alone, others were huddled together. All have been dead for years. Muflog hollered to the group. They’d been looking at the bones, and they had found something.

He picked an arm away from the stone tablets, nearly a dozen of them piled next to a skeleton, still gripping at an ancient stone chisel. They were in the ancient tongue, the language that had marked the passageway. Muflog held them, and both he and his King read.

At first they were boring, almost pedestrian. They described a castle under siege, but the King looked back at the doorway. Who could besiege a castle like this? It was basically a city in the sky. There were spots where only one person could fit in the winding walkway there. The man who apparently wrote this, the one sprawled out on the floor, didn’t seem concerned. He said they had enough food with them to last months. Those outside would give up before then. Meanwhile, they had sealed the doors and windows. They were here with the food. All the attackers were outside with nothing. It was only a matter of time. And, apparently, time passed.

The King and Muflog shuffled the tablets, and they read out that there was infighting among the besieged. Some wanted to give up. Others wanted to bring down the weapons of war on those outside. The King was confused. “It was an attacking army, why didn't they do that at the start?” They continue reading. The prince had escaped with a small band, right before the fighting broke out. He was going to look for- but the tablet was broken, a brownish-reddish substance smeared along the bottom edge. Violence had overcome.

They read as more and more months passed, those outside still not giving up. The Eagles had come, but still, the pounding at the doors and walls was omnipresent. Still more months passed inside. The lights were now going out. They were running out of fuel. They had almost run out of food. The strong had already started eyeing the weak. The knights were looking at their King. One man ground up rubies and gemstones, trying to bake bread with them. This was an outrageously bad idea, and in the end, he ended up the same as everyone else, but just a little bit faster.

The King and Muflog scanned over more and more tablets, until they came to the last one. It was in different writing. The new scribe said he had taken over for the one who had been writing. He knew there was no way out. He had been huddled in a crevice, in one of the darker corners of the castle during the worst of it. He had woken up one morning to the sound of swords and screams. The knights had turned on the nobleman, on their king. All semblance of honor disappeared with the food.

The last scribe had hid for days, until all the sound subsided. Now, he was the last one left, and this will be his legacy. He said that the pounding outside was gone. The people were all dead. If hunger didn't get them,then the Eagles did. They would be the Eagle’s eyries when he died.

The writer said he looked up on the carved image of the king, in the middle of the room. This wasn’t just his fault. This was all their faults. They had squeezed the people until they revolted. The king and his nobles had secretly packed up all the city’s riches, and stored them in his keep. They had shut and barred the doors, hoarding the last of the food. They told themselves that they were better than everyone on the outside. That's why they deserved to survive.

The writer had looked around at what was left of them. The strong had lived long enough to starve to death. What had all their riches bought them? Other than agony, and likely some severe indigestion, like the guy who tried to eat diamond shard biscuits. The writer said that he didn’t have much time. He was going to join his people.

His prayer was that the prince had made it east, that he and his band had somehow found a passageway to the ocean. That would learn from the mistakes of his forefathers, and they would build something better.

The King and Muflog stopped reading at the same time, and looked up the carved image of the king. The King had never much cared for lineage, never looked back at the ancient records. But if he did crack open the warped and dusty tomes, he imagined he would read of the first of his line, coming east, finding his way through the mountains, and building the city.

The King looked all around the room. This, this was them. This was going to be them. He had bled his people dry, and he was going to lock himself and his nobles up in his castle, with all the food to wait out the winter. He had come here seeking a secret to save his people.

There was no secret. Only work.

If he retreated to safety, he might survive a few months. But he would meet an end all the same. No, he needed to work with his people. To be a true King. Survive or die, thrive or starve, they would do it together. And now, he needed to get home.

He stormed from the secret palace, and his knights called behind him, asking him if he wanted them to loot the castle. “Leave it,” he told them. They had a long march back. They were going to make it before the first snowfall. And besides, look what good the gold and jewels had done everyone before.

Outside, the King's mind raced. What should he do? That's when he had an idea. “Call the Eagles,” he told his advisor.

Muflog paused. “Did you mean the Eagles they just learned had killed and eaten all the people on the outside?”

The King nodded. “The very same.”

It didn't take much convincing. Muflog, on the King's orders, said that the Eagles had their home because of the people that died here, their people, and now those people needed help.

Soaring overtop the mountains on an Eagle, the King turned to Muflog, who was holding on for dear life. “You know, why do the Eagles always just help out in the end? I feel like, in general, a lot of stories I’ve heard where giant Eagles save the day, most of the problems could have been solved if the Eagles took on a more active role earlier in the story. Also Muflog don’t translate that.”

As the King and his advisors soared above their familiar city, it was obvious they’d returned just in time. Riots were in full swing, shouts audible from far away. He and Muflog looked out on the ocean. A seven day march had taken mere minutes on the Eagle’s back. They looked to the angry city, and then across the sea. How far could an Eagle fly? After a moment's hesitation, the King sighed, and Muflog asked the Eagle to land.

When the knights and the hunting party finally returned weeks later they saw something that shocked them. The King was working? He was out among his people, among those who were hungry, which was everyone. But they were working together. There wasn't a lot they could do in the late autumn to help the crops, but come winter? The King would ration out the royal food supply. No one would starve.

The King was also pouring as much money as he could into building new ships. They might not have animals, but they had forests, both here and beyond the mountains. The King melted down iron, steel, and any other metal he had to help build the vessels. And, when it started to grow cold, he converted all of his ballrooms to shelters, to protect those who didn’t have a home.

In the end, the King and his people survived the winter, and many winters after that. Soon, their numbers swelled, and they began to colonize the land west of the mountains, stretching as far as the old palace.

When they asked the King’s great-great-granddaughter what she wanted to do with it, she said said that they would leave the Eyrie to the Eagles.

It would stand forever, as a reminder of one king's folly, and another’s wisdom.

*I release one picture from the story each day on the tenth, in scrambled order, until I run out and post the title and the story itself, along with an explanation for my art and any changes I made to the tale (I only do that the European stories). But if you guess the story before then, then you win an art commission! Check it out, I’d love for someone to win! :) I post other art every day - i’ve challenged myself to have a different piece of art each day of the year for my first year, and I’m not doing too bad :) A lot of it is old tbh.

#the eyrie #the palace of the eagles #jewish folktales #myths and legends #myths and legends podcast #win a commission #sometime in the far future #definitely not 2019 or 2020 for sure

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