In the Sepol world, their word for god is Aioltav, the word for the positive. Some call evil or satan the word Eeiolta of the negative side of us. We are both sentient beings, Eiolta and Aioltav; absolute good or evil never exists. The Sepol people pray to be inspired by the most profound evil and highest aspiring good. If humans reach inside of ourselves, we know this evil and good are subjective depending on the point of the compass or hemisphere each individual finds themselves. Artists catapulted to the most profound evil or the good of inspired vision and words. No one among the Sepol tries to deliberately cultivate negative situations. When circumstances are challenging, they use it to their advantage. We try to find the good in less-than-satisfactory or tragic situations.
My physical appearance is not much different from a human. I wear light clothes similar to a pajama with a tight collar around my neck, which is used for various tasks. It operates like a computer, with alarms in case of danger and a consciousness guide in case I do something wrong. Hair covers my body, not enough to make me look like a monkey. The resemblance is complete because some of us Sepol live in trees. Some of my hair is green and magenta, primarily white and brown. Wide eyes that pierce the dark, no muzzle, no tail, I wear pants, my face is skin, oh, yes, pointed ears.
I imagine my arms torn off or parts of my body falling off, not being hung by cables, just suspended bunched up in a net. That’s not positive or negative; it’s suffering and stupidity. That is how I create the anguish of mind, yet remembering balance is too extreme and has no entrance into my life. Tearing off an arm doesn’t do much to a Sepol; all we do is reattach it. Absolute darkness comes in our dreams, like a dream I had of a gigantic city of nightmarish things that drill through the body, speaking all sorts of nasty things. In the desert are pits, elegantly built walls are cylindrical, smooth as marble descends. And the entrance is a canopy of metal decorated with intricate plant motifs and faces. Sounds emanating from there were whimpering, a sort of crying; it ceased, then a sound of tapping. Some of our people were in the vicinity of the dark holes; they lost their minds and disappeared. I’ve heard other Sepol having dreams of a sinister dark figure asking them to follow it down the hole on the other side. A feast was laid before them. As they consumed the food, darkness enclosed all around them. I live in the tree in an oval-shaped house; lately, the hole below my tree has been beaconing me to come, there are no dreams, but there it is.
What is the whole trying to tell me? No, going in the direction of intellectualizing its meaning, it’s like discussing philosophy that falls into a hole. Holes exist everywhere for the Sepol; other races, including humans, criticize us for discussing philosophy so much that we wear out our minds and don’t accomplish anything. It’s put together; we Sepol don’t like dark tunnels or orifices. Holes have a fondness for Sepol. I think it’s humans who are digging them; they construct lots of openings. The ones we are pestered by appearing unexpectedly.
Whole cities disappeared into oblivion, sucked under the earth by holes with marble walls. The spot embraces the city by protecting it underground or in darkness. Doesn’t make sense; it’s still scary. The word sinister has no definition in Sepol though Aioltav and Eiolta are in balance. It’s all still frightening.
