Oktai Yajiud

The morning light reflected against the stark white snow. Diffused light filtered softly through the walls of the ger, casting a tawny shadow across its occupants. Oktai turned in his plush bedroll, entangling his lanky limbs within the thick pelts that blanketed him. As he regained consciousness he took stock of his injuries before even opening his eyes and was pleased to find that he had gained no additional wounds, save the ritualistic cuts he had made. He felt the familiar stretch of gut sutures running across his collar bone and forearms, effectively binding his gaping wounds and allowing them to heal. Memories of the previous day and last night’s dream struggled to the forefront of his mind and the boy smiled. He had lived through the ritual that had killed a thousand men, the ritual that had killed firstborn sons in his family for centuries. He had succeeded where his ancestors had failed and now he would wage war alongside Khanuk.

Once Oktai pried open his heavy eyelids he scanned the hut he occupied. He quickly recognized it as the healer's tent as he surveyed the bags of plant matter and herbs hanging from the wooden beams of the circular roof. He was slightly disappointed by Khanuk's absence, but soon he figured that the bull would never fit inside the small ger anyway. His great horns would tear the thinning walls and his powerful form would scatter the wooden frame. Quite unexpectedly a blinding flash of snow-reflected light filled Oktai’s eyes, temporarily blinding him, as the healer stood silhouetted in the doorway, a hunched shadow against the white snow. “Bayarmaa,” Oktai said roughly, his words grating against his rough throat. “Where is Khanuk?”

“Hello Ezen, your bull is just outside. He sat and stayed the night without a word.” Oktai nodded and swung his legs over the edge of the low slung cot, moving to stand. Bayarmaa rushed over and gently pushed him back into the warm and welcoming furs. “You must rest, dear boy. Freeing our Totem Warrior is no small task, you are lucky to be alive.” The old healer's face fell into shadows as she recalled the gruesome aftermath of the many failed attempts in winters past.

“I will recover in my own bed, thank you,” Oktai said. He started to stand and easily brushed off the downward force the old woman was gently applying to his shoulders, careful not to disturb his lacerations. He slowly made his way to the exit, stepping lightly on the rough canvas floor.

As he pushed through the heavy hide door the bitter winter wind cut through his thin shirt and chilled him to the bone. He clenched his jaw and stepped into the cold, the snow sinking frozen teeth into his bare feet. A shiver racked his frame and he turned to his own ger. His eyes fell upon the massive beast waiting to his left, with bovine eyes carefully tracking him. Oktai quickly stepped back, shocked he hadn't noticed the hulking figure. Khanuk slowly stood in front of him, and as his broad shoulders rose into the sky a profound sense of smallness overcame Oktai. He was stunned by the amount of power this creature possessed; his magic rolled off him in great crashing waves, overwhelming the boy. “Khanuk, please accompany me to my ger, permitting you can fit through the doorway.” Oktai's words seemed minuscule compared to the towering beast. He was shocked when he found a clear glimmer of intelligence and amusement reflected in the bull's large brown eyes. He nodded as Oktai walked briskly past him, eager to escape the chill. He pushed through the thick hide flap and entered his ger which was located only a few paces from the healer’s.

Oktai was pleased to find a fire already crackling in the central fire pit, emitting a pleasant warmth throughout the ger. He quickly sat on his cot and watched the doorway apprehensively. As expected, a large form was outlined as it pressed into the entrance. Khanuk had bent at the waist and carefully shuffled forward, easing his broad body and horns through the human-sized doorframe. Oktai was immeasurably glad for the obnoxious size of his personal ger and he grinned as Khanuk squeezed carefully through the entrance. “Please sit, Khanuk Khaan,” Oktai said. The great bull, already low to the ground, sat with a great huff. The force of his mass colliding with the ground sent the flames of the nearby fire sputtering, if only for a second. Khanuk looked down at his massive hooves and shuffled them anxiously. The thought of the Barbarian God being nervous in his presence greatly amused Oktai and he struggled to suppress a bout of laughter. A sly smile managed to sneak upon his face as he wordlessly watched Khanuk settle.

“Süns-Ezen, I am surprised you have been able to awaken me. One so young would rarely possess enough power to undo the wards containing me. I am impressed.” The unexpected compliment drew a slight blush to Oktai’s face as he carefully studied the floor beneath his bare feet.

“Thank you, it has been my purpose since birth, I am only concerned with what comes next,” Oktai stared into the flickering flames and avoided the deity’s penetrating stare.

“What comes next, boy?” Khanuk’s face transformed into a gentle expression of amusement.

“We go to war and we will save the ways of our true gods and our ancestors.”

Khanuk simply nodded to himself. “Speak plainly, Oktai. We are one and the same. I understand the desire to conquer more thoroughly than you understand your desire to breathe.” Oktai felt the hot flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as Khanuk spoke. He frowned before he replied, struggling with the necessary wording.

“Khanuk Khaan, I-”

“You wish to avenge your family, you wish to honor the gods, and you wish to preserve the Yajuid way of life. Noble motivations for a boy, however, you are no mere boy, Süns-Ezen.” Oktai grew uncomfortable under Khanuk’s careful analysis and allowed a silent gap in conversation to swell between the two. “Who would oppose you? Who will you make atone for the wrongs of the past?”

“The Döyadd.” Oktai watched as Khanuk’s inhuman face transitioned from gentle inquiry to seething rage. He felt Khanuk’s powerful anger radiating from him, filling Oktai with a sense of fear mingled with respect for his Khaan. Khanuk’s face became eerily blank and he emitted a sense of deadly calm and grief. Oktai knew that the god sitting on the floor before him would undoubtedly wage any war on his behalf, but he could tell that this time Khanuk would take up arms for his own revenge.