Disclaimer: I don't Shadow of the Colossus
Ttile: Last Sunrise
Summary: Our days and nights grow old and young, our bodies merely decay. Our people we swore to protect had diminished when our oath had broken. We shall, upon the last sunrise, fight for them before the Time of Silence begins and the Time of Prosperity ends in front of our very eyes.
Rating: T
Pairing: None
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy
Chapter 1: The First Sunrise
Our story begins in an ancient temple within the corner of the small Settlement of the Mountains. White fire danced upon a large sacrificial alter, heat filled the stone room completely, making a priest sweat greatly. He was a hermit, a man who casted himself away from civilization, away from people. All alone, for most of his life, the priest preformed countless rituals, some he made up himself. What were the rituals for? What magic he used? It was all....Forbidden Magic, Forbidden Spells, anything that was written down on any book or scroll and then later burned for its curses.
His work had been infamous for making the dead walk and creatures of legends become legends for his own amusement. His demented mind made any who approach him loose their stable mentality. His magic was the deadliest tool at his disposal. His youth had demolished as his research in black magic had mingled with his mind, body, and soul.
This land was his land, no one else's. From the East Coast to the West, from the Northern Lands to the Southern Peninsula; it was all his own. None dared venture to this area for it is believed to be tainted with the poisonous footsteps made by the man who walked along it. And it was tainted, greatly, with venom so powerful that not even the proper antidote can cure it. The sun never shined, the lakes ran dry, the crops never grew. This land can not be revived by a single man, no, it'll take an entire civilization to do so...and the time, oh Heavens no.
As the flames continued to dance, he cast out fifteen corpses and carcasses of people and beasts he had slain in the past for personal game. He chanted spells, his long, gray cloak had flown off from several blasts of heat that came from every body that was thrown in.
A Minotaur, the Wielder of Ruins
An Ox, the Beast of Burden
A Warrior, the Swordsman of Punishment
A Horse, the Grave Keeper
An Eagle, the Eyes of Death
An Elderly Man, the Hidden Demon
A Sea-Serpent, the Demon of the Waters
A Gecko, the Sword of Lightning
A Tortoise, the Shield of Thunder
A Sand-Serpent, the Demon of the Lands
A Boar, the Warrior of Patience
A Mask, the Golden Flames of the Abyss
A Dragon, the Demon of the Heavens
A Lion, the Warrior of Impatience
A Soldier, the Sentry
Yes, this ritual was nearly over. Only one more thing....blood, the blood of a sorcerer....the blood of a magic wielder....his blood, his flesh. He brandished out a golden dagger, the tip of it pointed at the base of his left arm. Herbs were taken to make his arm numb, numb enough to be sliced off without pain. He didn't fear pain, however, he had felt it whenever a ritual had gone wrong. This wouldn't be any different, the loss of a limb is a good sacrifice to be Creator, the God, of the New World.
"Shall My Creatures and Warriors bring life and death to the land. I give them mind, body, and soul. My mortal life shall end this hour. My immortal life shall begin this hour."
With teeth gritted, the feeling of flesh being torn had never been felt, only heard. His right hand tossed the last required ingredient to his experiment.
Images of the soon-to-be creatures were mere mirages in the flames.
Blood gushed freely from his wound, but the red liquid slowly turned black. He managed to walk peacefully out of the temple and down the stone steps that he built himself with the help of magic. A slow, drawn out sigh was the last sound he made before perishing under the moon in the grass field....only then, during the first sun rise, did he find out the outcome of his ritual...
Perhaps you, reader, had never gotten the name of this person. You must wonder, you must, for he was the one who started and ended his civilization...
...this hermit of a man went by the name of Dormin, the Dark Head Priest.
First SotC fic, long time fan, first time writer. Just to let you know, this fic is about how the Forbidden Land was created, what happened, and how it ended. It's like the Prologue to SotC....
Enjoy.
READ & REVIEW