Tale: Dovgokul Temple

It has taken me too long to arrive here. I have been sidetracked by other events going on elsewhere. It seems as though my attempts to protect both myself, Psivee-En and my own kids has been for nothing.

Arkay is gone. Where he has gone, no one knows. Of course I had to take a detour to find out what truly happened, and only little Elksia was willing to share. She asked if I wished to stick around, but I explained that I was not supposed to be there (or even among the living) and that I would deal with my sorrow in my own way. She clearly understood how I felt. She would have made a fine partner for my kid.

Most of my journey to Dovgokul had been quiet but… awkward. Despite my new body, my new powers, I had to travel in secret, just in case Ayvee-En had decided to hunt me down once more. And of course, the trip is a treacherous one, even if part of it passed through the safe haven of Hertany. The territory around Dovgokul is a neutral ground, open to any race willing to live there.

But I have finally made it. I just have to climb a mountain.

You see, Dovgokul is a mountain range ruled by Thraki, the draconic, demonic magic-users of the Thanatian race. They are clearly a related race, capable of interbreeding with other Thanatians, but it is also clear that they are from somewhere else entirely. When I first died and exiled myself, I came here, to Portalia, hoping to be left alone, and that’s when I found the Thraki. Or rather, they found me.

Luckily, I have my new powers. It takes little effort to reach the peak, covered in little snow. It is the middle of the hot season, of course there is little time for snow to settle. At the top of the mountain is a huge, towering temple, not built by reasonably sized beings. I take a moment to look back down, and think back to when I was carried up here on the back of a Thraki.

My feet lightly touch down on the smooth, marble steps, and I walk the remainder of my journey. The ground is cold underneath me, but still familiar. The ceiling of this vast temple is many tens of metres above me. All designed so Thraki could fly in and out.

Something swooshes above me and I pause. The air begins to warm, from the breath of a mighty Thraki. It swoops round and lands in front of me.

“Ah, my little Unlahney, you have returned.”

“Obviously. It is an honour to see you again, Vokulunax.”

Vokulunax was the Thraki who took me in. A beautiful black Thanatian with purple highlights. He’s still wearing his gold and purple armour plates. He comes closer, circling around me. I should feel scared, what with Vokulunax standing at 4m tall at the shoulder and weighing goodness knows how much, but he knows me well. After all, he was the being who taught me Thraki magia.

“It is an honour to see you too, Kayel. I see your journey to death has yet again been unsuccessful. Come, we have much to discuss.”

Vokulunax turns around awkwardly and stomps further into the temple, out to the open back. Most visitors never see this, as the physical building is only the entrance. The temple itself is below, encircled by the huge mountains surrounding it. A beautiful, pure lake with shores of white, soft cottongrass. Much like Kinigi.

The powerful Thraki glances round and asks if I need assistance. I tell him I’m fine, and Vokulunax flaps his elegant wings, before drifting down to the water below. I decide to be a bit more dramatic, running off the edge then using my empowered telekinisis to slow my descent. Vokulunax bares his teeth again, his way of smiling at me, then instructs me to look into the crystal clear water.

“What do you see, Unlahney?”

I stare into the water, at my own reflection. I hear Vokulunax muttering magic words in their magic language. Only problem with Thraki magia, it can’t be cast silently, unlike my own telepathic prowess. The spell he is muttering though is a standard checking spell, to see if I am carrying anything unusual with me.

My reflection begins to change. Half my body turns white, bright and holy like sunlight, the other half turns black as night. Both sides seem to vie for more of my body, interchangeably taking over my body completely, until suddenly all I see is my own self, a bleeding corpse, as I was in the monster’s hands. Then, slowly but surely, my reflection turns back to normal.

I glance up at Vokulunax, expecting an answer. But he wants me to figure it out myself.

“I guess what that means is…” I pause, not really sure. The Thraki though pushes me onward. “I have two sides of me now. A holy, bright sunlight side of me, and a dark, twisted side. My reflection suggests that these sides of me will fight for control, until they leave me cold and dead.”

Vokulunax nods. “You are correct, in a way. You have triumphed over both the burning light of Ayveen-En and the cold touch of Psivee-En. In doing so, in sparing their lives, you let a small amount of them into you…”

“You mean they forced their way into me!” I snap. “Had their horrible… I am sorry…” I apologise for my outburst, but Vokulunax understands and continues.

“The issue is that light and shadow will always fight one another if you allow them to. You will have to eventually let one side take full control at the expense of the other. You will be weaker, but finally fulfilled in your life, having escaped from one of your major traumas completely.”

The Thraki is wise, as always. But the idea of succumbing to one side bothers me. “So I bow down to the will of the shadows. Because I’m not going to bend down to the light…”

“Perhaps. If that is your choice. The effects of these two halves battling inside you are minor, but over time the conflicts will start to tear you apart. You allow it to continue, you will die. You accept one side, you survive. No matter what you decide, I shall help you on your path.”

“But what if I take a different part entirely?”

Vokulunax gives me an odd look. “How do you mean?”

I point back at the water, at my own reflection. “You call me Unlahney, the undead one, the being of non-life. You know I have survived death and come back from the beyond. Perhaps we are both misinterpreting the reflection.”

“Then how do you see it?”

“Simple. The path I take is neither path. Instead, I take the path of the Cycle, and the magia of life and death itself.”

Vokulunax hesitates, but I can see it in his eyes, my analysis makes sense.

“You do realise that the arts of nekromagia are incredibly dangerous. They may very well claim you.”

“Light and shadow have already claimed me. One or the other will kill me. I’d rather be claimed by something, by my own choice.”

“Very well. As I said, no matter your path, I shall assist you. Welcome back, little Unlahney.”