Stories from the Campfire: The Yui of Esmya

These will be a collection of stories from varying sources across the Mother Trees roots; tales of spirits, the unseen, and incomprehensible.

Welcome dear readers, to the light of The Campfire.

Tonight we visit Loratzen, home to the Yui people. A city of elegance, and many would argue opulence, however it is well known for its peoples cultural influence. It is said that due to the Yui’s longevity as a species, they have always held a strong standing within high society, as many of the oldest Yui dynasties to this day hold only so many generations. When we compare this to the lifespans of Humans, the Yui stand out as merely one of their own are able to outlive a Human twice-over, but that is not to say that they cannot die.

The denizens of Loratzen are well known for their horticultural expertise, even keeping plants alive for days when they mount efforts to reforest certain areas beneath the Mother Tree in an effort to reclaim the lands after seasonal droughts. Everyone knows of the Yui’s natural connection to plants and the dirt we stand upon, with many practicing in the manipulation and growth. Their reverence for the green is also shown in their burial rituals. Though infrequent, the death of a Yui is never taken lightly. They entomb their dead within burial mounds, entering through a small opening at the base of the hill, where they bury the dead within a rich soil alongside their ancestors so that they may enrich the land. In doing this, the plants upon their bodies also become fertilizer. These burial sites can be found encircling the Mother Trees roots close to the base of the immense trunk.

The proceedings begin with a funeral march to the family mound, led by the relatives of the deceased, followed by close friends and acquaintances who wished to pay their respects. Once the departed has been laid to rest, the family will plant the seeds of the same kind of vegetation as the deceased across the hills grass. The vegetation of the deceased would be allowed to flourish, untouched by all attendants until the one month mourning practice has been completed.

Our first story comes from one of these very site attendants, a Yui man by the name of Flecher, who tells us of one of his encounters with the family, but he had been two months dead. The man is a grave site attendant for one of the plots on the east side of the Mother Tree. Upon first inspection he holds himself with a quiet demeanor, and after we asked a few locals of his character, they all responded with similar notions that he kept to himself. We had managed to convince him to join us for tea as he recounted his tale after we had reached out for an interview to many in his trade, however Flecher was the only one to answer.

“I do apologize for any smell. I keep to m’self on account of the Corpse Flower that grows upon me. Don’t think I have to tell ya why that’s funny. Won’t bite until next month.” Flecher joked before clearing his throat.

“Now then, this all happened fifty-two years ago now. I had just cleared the fields atop the Bellblossom plot-. A family of hoity-toity types, butlers I think I heard. Anyhow, it had been some time since we put the old fellow to rest, and it had only been just a week since I had cleared the Bluebells from the fields. The moon was full o’ course, lit up the whole of the mound, I didn’t even need my lantern. It was quiet, peaceful, and I still had to walk the grounds to check the gate that lets ya inside. The light of the moon was cresting over top of the mound, so it was dark when I came around to the gate to check the lock and hinges. It was when I was reaching for the box of matches I dropped that a hand passed me the box, but it came from behind the gate.”

The look in Flecher’s eye from here was telling of his experience. He took a pause with a chill in his breath.

“Well needless to say I took my leave from there as quick as I could. A mystery hand from handing me my matches from the dark of a burial mound was enough to make me take a break for a week. When I came back, the odd occurrences kept happening though, but it was more like a helping hand I suppose. Things I’d forgotten somewhere would turn up, keys found in the lock before I had the chance to wander over to the gate. It was peculiar, but after a century, I’ve grown quite accustomed to the Bellblossom plot. Wouldn’t work any other.” Flecher finished before we took our leave for the evening.

Our next story is spoken of quite often as Yui superstition and a Loratzen folk legend. It has been long said in Loratzen to “mind the breeze,” a slang phrase that references the fragility of saplings and how a strong gale can over-stress them, and tends to be used as an insult among  Yui lower and middle-class. This little piece of trivia takes on a more sepulchral turn as many of the working class would avoid strolls home on windy nights, or at the very least never travel alone.

The reason behind this is that on particularly windy nights, it is said to stir the spirits of the Yui within the mounds. It is on the blustery evening in autumn, when the plants begin to change that reports of phantasmal figures are seen wandering the burial sites. It is said that it begins with overwhelming and sudden silence, then the breeze chills you, followed by a whisper in your ear from behind you. This occurrence is not uncommon. Many of these sightings are often retold in bars by workers who had finished their night shifts, or by guardsmen who are posted on the fringes of the city. To this day, not a single man of Loratzen would be seen without a lantern in the dark of night. It is for this that Loratzens streets are magically light, bringing about a magical glow within the inner-city streets.

Lithoterria is no stranger to unknown phenomena, with many of its peoples encountering strange wonders and terrors alike day to day. It is in this fear of the physical unknown that we often forget what is unseen or unheard-, that is until you go for a walk and hear a whisper from behind, or a tap on your shoulder from an invisible stranger.