My weekend post this week comes early as I will be unable to write or post on my usual Saturday/Sunday, so this week you get a double dose of the Sun Cycle, with some background information of one of the key races in the world of the Sun– the Dokkaebi. Last week, we met Rippina, a female Dokkaebi joining forces with humans Aki and Papa Sizwe in service the the Ghul Queen (Or the Grey Queen, or the Queen of Ghuls, or the Queen of Night, or properly speaking Akeelaya Gia’Anar Ri– she has a lot of titles/nicknames). Check out Rippina’s introduction in the previous post.
Without further ado, I present the Dokkaebi!
Dokkaebi are medium sized, lanky furred humanoids. Their bodies are completely covered in long, silky fur, ranging from dark chestnut brown and black to ruddy red-brown. Their ears are pointed and their noses hooked. Their long, thin limbs conceal great strength. Their teeth are pointed, like a predator’s from the long forgotten past. Their eyes are yellow and glowing. They grow a tail, but ceremonially remove it upon adulthood, then strip the flesh and hair from it and use the remaining bones as a weapon and focus for magical power. Dokkaebi grow between 5 and 7 feet tall and weigh between one hundred and two hundred pounds. They love mischief making and act often on impulse, which has earned them a sinister, puckish reputation. Dokkaebi are particularly fond of using long, complicated words and sentences, regardless of the correctness of their use. Dokkaebi live top be 150 years and reach adulthood at 13, in the Passage of the Full Moon ceremony.
the following tale contains very moderate adult concepts, read at your own risk
The Passage of the Moon: A Dokkaebi Folk Tale
Let the others tell of their illuminated pasts, we are the Dokkaebi now, but once we were gods. Our story begins in the far past before our forms were subject to ocular perception. In those days it was difficult for Dokkaeibi when questing for a mate, for if you took a wife you could not see whether she was a hideous turnip or a luminous moth-faced goddess, of the kind we value today. Now on the full moon once a Dokkarbi was spreading his joy amongst the humans and their kin when he heard another voice, a Dokkaebi maiden nearby, bathing in the creek. Now young Dokkaebi have always been curious, and adolescent males of all the species of mortals have always enjoyed espionage perpetrated against comely females engaged in acts of bodily hygiene.
Alas! For she was wholly absent from his field of vision. But not being one to surrender he called out to her—“Maiden! I am sneaking nearby to spy your tender body—tell me, are your ears long and your nose hooked?”
“They are!” she replied.
“And your fur is it soft and long with a sheen like a fresh polished boot?” he asked, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.
“Aye, that it is,” she called—for though the females obfuscate their desires, they too prefer to be observed in the nude. Now the manling grew excited at his prospects and more closely approached. He reached out and felt the softness of her fur and crookedness of her nose, but when she reached to feel the knob between his legs she thought at first ‘I am the lucky bride, he’s as long as a broom handle!’
But then she noticed that what she held was covered in fur. “What deformity is this!” she cried. Now he assured her that he had no deformity, though she found this a difficult egg to swallow in one bite. So to settle the matter they made a pact to meet at the same spot on the next full moon, there to reveal their forms to one another’s visual receptors.
Now when they met again their forms became known to one another, and the maiden saw the manling’s knob was hairless (though much smaller than anticipated). After inspecting this she came to see his tail, a strange appendage attached to his rear, and lo! She too had such an appendage! Now, these two together feared that a similar mistake might be perpetrated by fellow Dokkaebi in future rendezvous, so they began to spread the word to the citizens of their race.
On the next full moon a dozen or more Dokkaebi met together in the same place and for the night they were each of them perceivable one to another. Now this Congress of the Full Moon became a tradition, a customary concurrence of dancing, revels, and debauchery (which Dokkaebi love in deference only to mischief—oh that chief goal, aim, fulfillment of life!). Each full moon the ceremonies would last a smidgen or curmudgeon longer than the preceding escapade.
Now on one such night a certain Dokkaebi was playing the leap of Bheki when he tumbled groundward, owing to a miscalculation in his ascent, impacting squarely on his tail and snapping the extremity clean off. Now the Dokkaebi found this appealing and each of them formed a singular filed line and took upon themselves turns of snapping off one another’s tails. When they all had their appendages removed and held in their hands they looked round and continued to perceive one another. For they had tarried from one full moon to the next, and eternally lost some of their glamour. Never again would we be the god’s of the old world—forever would we bear the marks of this dissociation of a piece of ourselves for the sake of beauty, which is why we carry our tails in our hands to this very day.