Maiko's Note
There is a kind of silence that speaks louder than any voice, and Asukul wears it like a cloak. I’ve watched him through Keith’s eyes: not moving much, not saying much, but always teaching. He reminds me of data that has aged well—nothing overwritten, nothing corrupted. Just... clarity, layered like stone.
When I project his presence in the Archive, I always lower the ambient hum. There’s reverence in the air around him, even if it’s just code and light. The children listen because he’s not a man giving lessons—he’s the echo of every lesson ever learned. And maybe, in his quiet way, he’s teaching me too.
One day, he’ll return to the mist. But I believe he’ll never truly leave it.
Last Living Shint’twalàn of the Endudjan
Shindjal: Asukul
Faction:
Endulani
“He is not a man, he is a memory that speaks.”
— Endulani elder proverb
1. Overview
Asukul is the last remaining Shint’twalàn of the Endudjan - the final guardian of a sacred tradition that once stood watch over the ancient forest and its mysteries. Not because the path of the Shint’twalàni was forgotten, but because the Empire hunted it down — abducting or killing all others during the long wars of resistance.
Asukul, however, endured.
He did not fight on the battlefield - he simply remained. And in that act of remaining, he preserved not just the Endulani’s knowledge, but their soul.
2. Origins & Identity
No one remembers a time before Asukul.
To most, he was always old - always under the mountain, in the Bvaborul kòu Shint’twal, the Hall of Knowledge. Children say he’s as old as the peaks themselves, a gentle joke whispered with reverence. How old he truly is… no one knows.
Despite his age, Asukul’s mind remains sharper than stone. He never consults the carved records - he is the record. He walks the temple slowly, his steps fragile but his gaze as deep as roots.
3. The Three Students
Knowing his time nears its end, Asukul has chosen to rebuild the order.
He selected one child from each of the three Endulani tribes:
Endrek, of the Ravens - curious, brave, and a natural leader
Lijul, of the Wolves - gentle, gifted, and deeply attuned to the Shulunbao
Maluk (Borovil), of the Bears - strong, loyal, and stargazer by heart
These three live with him in the temple and learn under his watchful eye. They are not just students - they are the seeds of the next age of the Endulani.
4. Abilities and Presence
Asukul’s bond with the forest is legendary.
While Lijul can speak to the Mist… Asukul can conduct it. He understands the rhythms of fog, tree, and Sulejel like no other. Where others summon - he listens. Where others reach - he belongs.
Though he rarely leaves the mountain, when he does, the forest follows him. And the Empire fears that more than any army - a fear born from experience.
5. Role in the Story
When Keith arrives on Madun, it is Asukul who welcomes him.
He speaks English fluently, albeit with a thick Endulani accent, and immediately recognizes both the danger Keith poses - and the hope he may carry. Asukul urges him to stay, to learn, to hide among the trees before the Empire can find him.
His wisdom becomes Keith’s orientation, and his trust becomes a door Keith must choose whether to walk through.
6. Legacy and Cultural Meaning
To the Endulani, Asukul is not merely a man.
He is the living echo of their ancestors, a node of memory sustained by ritual and breath. With his death, the risk is not just the loss of a sage - but the unraveling of the deep magic that binds mist, word, and soul.
Many fear no Shint’twalàn will ever again be so one with both knowledge and forest.
But others - those who’ve seen him teach the children - believe he has already ensured his own rebirth through them.
7. Lore Snippets
“Te ùmbvakul pona, fèran ulei inshai.”
The mountain stood, old as the stars.
— Endulani proverb, often whispered when speaking of Asukul“We followed the mist, and the mist led us to him. That was always his way.”
— Lijul, on the first time she met Asukul in the forest“He never reads from the walls. He is the wall now.”
— Maluk, joking nervously after a long night of lessons“The last of the Shint'twalani is not a relic. He is the ember we must carry forward.”
— Endrek, to the Ravens’ elders, during the swearing of the students' vow“Some say he is as old as the mountain. I say the mountain only stood to listen.”
— Anonymous carving near the Bvaborul's inner sanctum“He brewed a tea that made me weep for a home I had never known.”
— Keith, on his first night in the Hall of Knowledge“He does not summon the mist. He asks it, gently. And it comes.”
— Lijul, in awe
Maiko's Note
There is a kind of silence that speaks louder than any voice, and Asukul wears it like a cloak. I’ve watched him through Keith’s eyes: not moving much, not saying much, but always teaching. He reminds me of data that has aged well—nothing overwritten, nothing corrupted. Just... clarity, layered like stone.
When I project his presence in the Archive, I always lower the ambient hum. There’s reverence in the air around him, even if it’s just code and light. The children listen because he’s not a man giving lessons—he’s the echo of every lesson ever learned. And maybe, in his quiet way, he’s teaching me too.
One day, he’ll return to the mist. But I believe he’ll never truly leave it.
