Elfen Lied Books Novels & Stories

The vellum pages whispered as they turned, filled with an elegant, flowing script I could not decipher—the Old Elven tongue. "Our own libraries hold similar accounts of the legends surrounding K'tthar," Lorien explained, his long fingers ghosting over the script as if communing with the words themselves. "But this codex… this one is different." He continued through the pages, the rustling sound the only noise in the room, until he found his place. He paused, drawing a slow, deliberate breath.

Cassian asked, curious. "Myths and Legends of Old," Elena said with a wink. "It's got stories about vampires, werewolves, angels, and demons." Cassian's face changed. "Elena, these are forbidden books! The Abbey doesn't allow..." "Oh, come on. Don't you want to know what other magical creatures are in this world?" Elena tugged on his sleeve. "Let's go. We'll read it in the hills behind the abbey. No one will find us."

There were piles of books on her table, and there was a request for more books that she had drafted out. “My lady, let us leave.” Liora begged, following behind me impatiently. I checked through some of her books, and they were mostly fiction. My eyes caught a particular book under a pile of books, and I reached for it instantly. “My lady, you're going to get me killed.” Liora groaned as I picked up the book. “THE ADVENTURES OF LADY KILMARTIN.” I read out loud. “Huh?” Liora mumbled.

The archives smelled of smoke. Not the cozy kind from the hearth, but the acrid, chemical stench of magic—faint, but enough to make Elara’s scar tingle. She’d spent three days buried in Eleanor’s journals, and still, the words “the fire comes next” burned in her mind like a brand. Ellie sat at her feet, sorting through a pile of leather-bound books, her tiny fingers tracing the sigils on their covers. Every so often, she’d pause, tilt her head as if listening to a secret, and tuck a book aside.

Countless books lined the shelves. Leaning forward, I picked up an old, rusty spellbook. After brushing off the dust and cobwebs, I opened it to find potions, magics, and spells of all kinds. “But how do I know which is the right one?” I wondered aloud. A brief silence followed. Then, a noise came from the back. My heart skipped. Moving closer to investigate, I spotted a small, aged book on the floor. Picking it up, I skimmed the first few pages. The book focused mainly on werewolves. Opening it further, my eyes widened—there, written boldly on the middle page, were potions, spells, and a cure for werewolf illness.

Fenrir spoke, diverting my attention. “That was fast.” I spoke. “Of course, I’m actually useful.” He spoke, giving Damon a death glare. “I’m listening.” I said. “When you mentioned the entity being a shadow or rather a dark shadow that granted wishes in exchange for souls I thought that sounded familiar—anciently familiar.” He pulled out a book, “Hey, librarian, know about this?” The book was old, with the back pages already peeling off. It read in bold, vintage font, “Elemental Werewolves: The Curse of The Dragon.”

Most of the pages in the front were smudged too terribly to read anything but once it became legible, I started to shake with happiness. It was a story book! Eagerly I began reading the first story that wasn't destroyed. MY mouth dropped open in wonder at this finding. It was a shadow elf storybook, and a very old one. Page after page I flipped through the words absorbing every word that I could. The stories were full of ghastly creatures similar to the ghoulcat and the heroes of ancient Gwathendor who fought them. And their lady loves that they saved along the way. Soon enough I was hunched over the bed with the little book in my lap and my head in the clouds.

“That is not possible. An elf cannot have children. It is heresy to even say such a thing.” “How do elfs reproduce, then?” “Reproduce what?” asked Evand. “Themselves. How do you make a baby elf.” Evand looked horrified. “Elfs do not lower themselves to such base practices. They are beings of energy and light.” “But the Queen was at it all the time. Seven litters.” “That cannot be,” insisted Evand. “You lie.” “Why would I lie about that?” “If... if she did so, she must have had a reason.” He sounded less sure of himself.

There are too many places that welcomed us along the way. In a few days, I arrived at their castle town where the King of Spirits resided. And now, I am waiting in that castle at this very moment. Having served with tea in a luxurious reception room, we were standing by. Its beautiful decorations showed not single inferiority compared to our castle. In the Country of Elves, there are many articles made from natural wood and ores/crystals. It seems that the Country of Fairies does not differ by much either. However, there are still some items that I could not imagine how they were processed on the inside.

Although not as lethal as vervain is for a vampire, Wolfsbane is an effective plant to help keep a vampire at bay. Elsa snapped the book shut with a sense of satisfaction. Thankful that she kept such a complete garden of herbs for her medicines and spells, she rushed to the drying room and filled a few medium sized pouches with dried verbena and wolfsbane. She also grabbed a bit of dried garlic that she’d only just ground that afternoon. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with the garlic from her garden that she couldn’t do with garlic from a store, but it wouldn’t hurt to take it along.