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THE LEGEND OF DOCHIA

translated and adjusted by Seachain Aroon
NOTE: Dochia is pronounced approximately as "Do-kee-ya"


When the Romans came again to wage war upon the land, Decebalus, the Dacian king, caught word that the Roman Emperor Trajanus had set quads to capture his beautiful daughter, Dochia, to bring her to Rome and make her his personal slave.
So he called his daughter and told her to cast aside her princessly robes, and put on the simple clothes of a shepherdess, and to go hide in the mountain. So his daughter did, and covered her long braided tresses with a shepherdess’s scarf, and rubbed dirt and ash on her cheeks, but her beauty still shone through the dirt.
With her flock of sheep she crossed the plains, and reached the mountain range when summer was at its peak. There the wolves brought her news of her father’s death, slain by his own hand rather than fall into the enemy’s hands. And tears streaking down her face, she slowly started to climb the mountains towards the hidden caves. And the heat grew strong, so she started to cast away the heavy sheep-wool cloaks she was wearing.
But when she was half way up the mountain, lo! For a slew of Romans showed up, rushing after her. They had found her! And up the mountain Dochia started running, casting aside walking staff, and bag of foods, and cloak and coat and scarf, so she could run faster, her white sheep following her. But soon she saw that weary she was, and the Romans would soon catch up with her, and she would be put in chains and sent to Rome, to live the rest of her life as a slave.
And she fell upon her knees and with great voice she cried out to the Goddess Bendis, begging for help, so the last of the line of the Dacian kings wouldn’t be the laughing toy of the Romans.
And out of the blue sky came a great wind, and a great blizzard, as it can hardly be seen in winter even, not in the heat of summer. And ice and snow blew on the mountain, and one couldn’t see a step ahead.
And when the blizzard died, the Romans couldn’t find more than a white rock, in the shape of a woman, surrounded by other small round white rocks. It was Dochia and her sheep, for the Goddess had heard her plea, and turned her and her flock to stone, rather than be caught by the Romans.
And even now, Dochia watches the lands from the mountain, surrounded by her sheep, and the tears of her sorrow weep in a clear spring running down the mountain slope.