Children of Fate : The Wanderer

by Renato Oliveira

Wa'Nda, a young Sunarii Warrior, faces the death of his beloved. But he feels something is amiss for the gods have left her body intact. He desperately searches for answers and what unravels will take him to the darkest parts of the world.

Children of Fate

Written by Renato Oliveira Lazo Lopez

Edited by Renato Oliveira and Veronic Ly

Based on the video game, Shadow of the Colossus, published by Sony Computer Entertainment

To the games' creators and all their fans

The Wanderer

The Legend of the Cursed Knight

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster." - Nietzsche

Preface

To tackle the creation of another is a difficult undertaking for me. Fanfiction is very frowned upon in the world of literature due in part to the usually poor quality of work and the fact that the writers are not creating some essential ideas themselves. Nevertheless I feel some of the critics are missing the point of it all. The price I pay by adapting these ideas is clear: none of this will ever be considered 'official'. But what I am trying to accomplish is to give Children of Fate a sense of authenticity by crafting a tale that will 'feel' deserving of reaching such a title. Though it is my first attempt at fanfiction, my ideas have been forming since the release of ICO. The first time I experienced Fumito Ueda's ICO, I fell in love with the material. From a creative standpoint it is irresistible. I could not contain the attraction to create a tale to accompany it. Throughout the game you are given a minimalist amount of story to keep you pushing forth. The game, in my opinion, shines because of this very fact since the tale is actually told through the experience itself. Needless to say I couldn't wait for Ueda's next project. And so, years later, came Shadow of The Colossus which introduced another cast of characters in an empty setting filled with despair and passion. As a fan, I wanted to know what happened before; I wanted to know the connection between the protagonist and his horse. I wanted to know who the woman he wished to save was. I wanted to know about the mystical sword he stroke down each Colossi with. I am sure none of these things are told to us for a purpose. Since I knew I would never know the answers I decided to create them myself. I'd love to walk up to Mr. Ueda and ask him the meaning behind it all but I am sure I would be met with the same answer a classical author would give about one of his pieces: "You make what you wish of it." The ending of Ico, and the same can be said about Shadow of the Colossus, all reflect this mentality. Thus, through this tale, I shall try to create something entertaining for you all. As an aspiring writer this serves as excellent practice and I hope you shall be forgiving of my mistakes. Now, as a gamer, (I am from the Atari-NES generation), I was mesmerized by Ico's relationship with Yorda and most importantly the interaction between the two characters which is the game's heart. In Shadow of the Colossus, the freedom of riding the horse in a vast empty field, the masterstroke being these massive creatures which served as levels and bosses all mashed up into one big euphoric gaming moment. Love was Wander's determination and his destruction, sacrifice was his purpose and raised questions about following powers that cannot be seen. I wish to assure you all that I have completed both games and though it has been many years since the completion of ICO, I have researched the material and tried my best to remain within some necessary 'original' walls.

What is "The Children of Fate"? Well, it is a trilogy which encompasses both of Ueda's games in terms of characters only. I plan to deal with three separate individuals. I wish to follow the life of 'The Wanderer', 'Ico' and finally 'Palere'Suna' (a third character that is in no way new, I simply decided to give her a name). Nevertheless, I am somewhat roaming free with the material (though I do try to follow Ueda's timeline). You must understand that I find beauty in creating intricate webs that give unusual meaning and a great sense of discovery to this world. I write this for those who, like me, can never get enough of both of these games and wished to experience more of their beautiful world. I will not be dealing with the storylines of the games themselves. What I mean is that I will not re-tell their stories. That is just a line I cannot cross as a writer. This tale is a prequel to what we have all already experienced. By creating a trilogy focusing on three separate stories, I believe that I can give these individuals more impact and perhaps explain their destiny of seclusion and exile. For me, each of these people shine brighter than the game they inhabit, and so I wanted to give them a more complex beginning and a greater back story. What better way than to bathe them in a type of mélange reminiscent of Greek mythology? (I've put some references for the mythology buffs). In its infancy this project was a simple short story, since fantasy is not my usual writing genre, but as you will witness, Children of Fate has eclipsed my initial intentions. What you will read is the culmination of A LOT of hard work, so please take the time to comment. I thread carefully in the realm of fantasy and so please excuse any clumsiness on my part. I will be posting this on DeviantArt with a much richer presentation since it has always been my intention to begin with and I am unable to do so here.

Feel free to send your compliments, hurl your insults, thrown in suggestions.

Now, on to the main course, I hope you all enjoy!

- Renato Oliveira

Sunarlic Mythology

Prior to embarking within the world of Vaa'Ga, where the tale of The Cursed Knight takes place, you must familiarize yourself with certain aspects of this land. The following is a story which serves as basis to the Sunarii way of life.

The Birth of the Gods and The Creation of The Ancients

First, there was Teula'Tras (Father Air), voyaging throughout pre-existence to find a bride worthy to bare his children. Meula'Vaa's (Mother Earth) beautiful voice traveled in the True Silence of pre-existence and Father Air yearned to know its source.

"Out of this maddening silence, your voice came to me. How glad I am to have found you! Though your calls are bewitching, the sorrow in them weighs heavier upon me!" said Father Air

"I too am sick of all this silence. I wish for more than this nothingness!" answered Mother Earth.

Having found one another, Mother Earth and Father Air wished to enchant their lives and break all the stillness surrounding them; thus they produced many children – the Gods, as the Sunarii call them. The Gods were born from the different events in the coming together of Teula'Tras and Meula'Vaa.

Na, Goddess of Fate

The First Child, born from their dreams

Ly, Goddess of Understanding

Born from the thoughts of Meula'Vaa for Treula'Tras

Jhi, Goddess of Sorrow

Born from the tear of Meula'Vaa

Yul, God of Peace

Born from the tongue of Meula'Vaa

Sha, Goddess of Happiness

Born from their laughter

Kr, God of Strength

Born from the passion of Treula'Tras for Meula'Vaa

Gorgol, God of Malice

Born from the shadow of Treula'Tras. Gorgol escaped within the Sunarii world and became ruler of the evil dead and lost souls.

Rele, Goddess of Water

Born from the saliva of Meula'Vaa

Elek, God of Battle

Born from the muscle of Treula'Tras

Ama, The Goddess of Love

Born from their kiss

Wa and Fyo, God of Day (Sun) and God of Night (Moon)

Twins born when a droplet of Treula'Tras' blood fell upon Meula'Vaa's skin and split into two. The boys were separated forever as punishment for their remarkable hatred for one another. Such hatred that Meula'Vaa cast them to two distinct and far away realms: Night and Day. Wa was imprisoned in a giant ball of fire known as The Sun and Fyo, inside a giant marble ball known as The Moon – thus the transition of daytime and nighttime as Mother Earth tends to each.

Fa, God of the Wind

Born from the breath of Meula'Vaa

Tya, Goddess of Creativity

Born from the singing voice of Meula'Vaa.

Amnos, God of Time and Aging

Born from the nail of Treula'Tras

Delpa, God of Mercy

Born from the ear of Meula'Vaa. Together with his brother Gorgol, Delpa escaped within the world of the Sunarii, although for very different reasons. While Gorgol wanted ultimate supremacy over all Sunarii, Delpa wished to be close to his children to protect them. He dove onto his mother's body, knowing fully that the only mean of return to the Gods' Dominion would be a mortal's death.

Although created by the coming together of two Supreme beings, the Gods did not possess the capacity to grant life.

The children of Treula'Tras and Meula'Vaa fought constantly for their love. Grown tired of their children's quarrels, both Supreme beings decided to teach them a lesson, one that would lead to the creation of the world and the Sunarii race. Meula'Vaa and Treula'Tras spoke in unity.

"What sorrow, my children, to see you bicker with sharp tongues and sour words. Having been born from love, you seem more accustomed to hatred. All shall end here and now, for we have decided to teach you a lesson!"

As a storm brewing, as though the darkest of clouds gathered together, the words thundered across all pre-existence.

"We grant you the power to create, together, a child that shall be called your own. Made from all your essences, your child shall rise from this chalice. In this holy union, you will learn to appreciate one another, working to create and watch over it for all eternity. Do not mistake this for foolish patience, my children, this lesson will not be taught twice!"

But it was not long until their children began to feud again when the gender of their child could not be agreed upon. However, before their disagreement could severely erupt, Ly suggested creating both genders – a proposal that brought sounds of agreement amongst the siblings. Meula'Vaa and Treula'Tras, seeing harmony between the Gods, found no other answer than to grant their request.

During the process of creation a most unexpected occurrence took the Gods by surprise. Each sibling was to pierce their finger and let their godly blood pour into a chalice; but as Sha, the next to last, made her contribution, a great explosion shook the realm of pre-existence. When the gods opened their eyes, they saw the energy called Larlin (Life Force) floating in the place of the chalice. They tried helplessly to grasp the ball of energy in order to tame it but none could manage. It is said even Treula'Tras, the father of all things, could not touch the Life Force. The only hands it did not reject were those of Meula'Vaa.

"How does it feel in your hand, mother?" asked one of her children.

"Warm, powerful – proof that together you are strong, but also stubborn,'' responded Meula'Vaa. "It has a will completely separate from your own."

"So we shall encapsulate parts of it within bodies – bodies we can control – for if one ever decides to live outside our rules, we may restrain it and mother will thus take away its essence," said Fa.

"But how can free will exist if we are to impose rules?" exclaimed one of the gods.

"Just as our mother and father impose that we act according to their wishes, so shall our children act according to ours," said Kr.

"And they shall not be eternal!" interrupted Amnos.

"Why not?" demanded Teula'Tras intrigued.

"They must have a single greatest happiness in parenthood, such as you, such as us, but unlike us, they shall know the greatest fear of all, death. Death will be their mean to return to the Life Force, in an eternal cycle, never to let it run out. For we have crafted a realm of existence they shall call their own. They shall be granted dominion over this land and we shall watch over them in their existence."

Amidst everyone's excitement young Na desperately cried out,

'How quickly everyone forgets that I have not contributed my essence to the Life Force. Mother! Father! What injustice is this, that I be excluded from this divine event?"

Meula'Va, seeing the despair take over her daughter, decided that she would be assigned the greatest task of all.

"Although each body will make his or her own destiny, you, Na, shall be the one who determines where it begins, for each tale must have a beginning. And you will also influence their future for you shall sew their threads."

Na smiled proudly at her brothers and sisters who looked upon her with jealousy. Nevertheless the feelings soon faded as preparations continued and a final decision was made: as gifts to their parents, the gods decided to have their children live upon the body of their mother, near her heart, and in eternal harmony with the presence of their father.

"For there should be no existence without them!" they cried out together.

The first people to walk upon the body of Mother Earth were called The Larlii, The Children of Life. Men and women prospered in harmony with the rules imposed by the gods and some could even speak to them directly. A lot has been forgotten through the ages, but it is believed the Larlii acquired much unnatural knowledge from the gods. Overly concerned with being worshiped, the gods taught their children to build monuments in their honor. The Larlii happily obliged their makers, and with each stone set a sense of pride overwhelmed the Larlii for the tributes served as proof of their own potential. But as time progressed, the Larlii grew tired of living solely for the gods and thus began to think of means to escape their perpetual life of worship. It was not long until bridges were constructed and the Larlii set on to discover lands outside their borders.

"What is a distance if I cannot reach it? Such beauty, such greatness my eyes provide me and my body wishes to feel its earth, its winds, to drink its waters. There is so much beyond the existence of the gods–there is so much more to us than they let us know! We look to the skies for greatness, when greatness is to be found here, amongst us!" - Unknown author

Having lost faith in the gods, many Larlii abandoned their lives of servitude and deserted their motherland. Soon, the voices of the gods were never to be heard again. Through the ages, all the divine knowledge was lost, and the people returned to a simple life, living for themselves, but still respectful of their creators. According to legend, their lives grew difficult without guidance, without hope, and in a desperate attempt to find connection with the gods once again; the people gave their makers the ultimate gift, renaming themselves The Sunarii – The Children of The Gods.

Important Sunarlic Words

Larlii – pl. of Larliien – (Lerlee) - Children of Life or The Ancients - Before they were known as the Sunarii, there lived a race of people in connection with the gods. Knowledge was given to them openly and in return the gods demanded they remain within the Sacred Lands (Ereki'Su'Lali). The Larlii could not contain their curiosity and soon built ways to escape the Sacred Lands.

Sunarii – pl. of Sunaren – (Soon'áh'ree) - Children of the Gods -Descendants of the Larlii, these are the people inhabiting the world of ICO and Shadow of The Colossus.

Treula'Tras - (Traulà'Traas) - Father Air - One of the two Supreme beings, for there would be no existence without air, without his eternal presence filling the lungs of each Sunaren.

Meula'Vaa - (Maulà'Và) - Mother Earth - Also known as "Mother of All Things", she is one of the two Supreme beings, and mother to the gods. The Sunarii live on her body.

Vaa'Ga - (Va'Gaa) - Earth's Body - From her body, all rise and all fall. From her body the Sunarii shall be given the plants, the water, and the food, in unity. The men and women shall live in peace from the holiest of grounds. The Sunarii are gifts from the gods for their everlasting admiration and love to their parents.

Sen/San/Suna - (Saan/Sen/Soo'n) - God/Goddess/Gods - Creators of the Sunarii race, sometimes referred to as 'The Children of The Supremes', these beings were born from the coming together of Meula'Vaa and Treula'Tras who granted them the power to create.

Rhua - (Ruu'ha) - Existence – The plane of living inhabited by the Sunarii. Before the encounter of Treula'Tras and Meula'Vaa, nothing 'existed'.

Q'Rhua - (K'Ruu'ha) - Before Existence - Prior to the meeting of Treula'Tras and Meula'Vaa there was nothing or sometimes nothingness is referred to as 'Unknown'.

G'Rhua – (Ga'Ruu'ha) – Non-Existence – The souls that cannot be tamed or caught are left to wander non-existence forever. It is the plane of existence most feared by the Sunarii race.

Na or Na'San- (Né or Né'Sen) - Fate or The Goddess of Fate - The only goddess not to have given her essence to the creation of Larlin, she was appointed the most important task of all. From her eternal dominion, casting each Sunarii body down, she creates the thread upon which all write their story.

Colossi - (Ch'lo'zi) - Living Mountains - Sprouted from the flesh of a disappointed Mother Earth; these mythical creatures grew from the old ruins of the ungrateful Larlii. Protectors of the Ancient Lands, they hold mystical powers. Thousands of years passed until the tale of Shadow of the Colossus took place. The Colossi have learned to live with nature rather than simply exist as warriors for its protection. Though once formidable, they have grown wary and desire nothing but peace.

Trepilas - (Tray'pe'dass) - The Morning Glow - An ancient sword said to have been forged at the ends of the world (Ereki'Su'Lali), and is composed of materials unknown. It is the only means of destroying a 'Shadow-being' for good. When used on a normal being, the sword is said to consume the soul of the slain but this has never been proven. The means which Wa'Nda appropriated the swords are unknown but it is assumed he received the help of a supernatural entity, probably a god.

Larlin (Laar'yeen) - Life Force - An eternal ball of energy that lives within the Gods' Dominion and from which each soul is taken. Born from an explosion resulting from the mixing of the gods' blood. Only Meula'Vaa has the power to tame it.

Kuru'Suul (K'Su'ul) - The Realm of Darkness - Once entering the land of the Sunarii, Gorgol, The God of Malice, created himself a home within the shadows.

Na'Na - (Nini) - Life partner or Wife - Refers to a woman who has been through the soul-mating ceremony where she accepts to guide a man's soul through life's road and thus help him reach as high a connection with Larlin(Life Force).

Aggro - (Augro) - Warrior Spirit - An ancient term referring to warriors who dedicate their lives to the strengthening of the soul and exist only to provide for and protect his/her people. It is also the name given to Wa'Nda's horse who accompanies him to the ends of the world.

Umni (Oom'nee) - Rainbow flower - A flower that only grows in the Cata'Taga region. The leaves average about eight centimeter in length and each grow in a different color. Because of this unusual trait the Sunarii use this plant in many ceremonial proceedings.

Ereki'Su'Lali - (Arag'soo'dayee) -The Gods' Forbidden Lands or the Sacred Land - It is said that the ancestors of the Sunarii were expelled from these lands or risk never to find peace in the afterlife. Refer to The Legend of Epolo.

Lak'Ta'Mehan – (Lawk'Tej'Meen) – The Teachings – After the Sunarii escaped the Ancient Lands, the gods, in a last bid to keep their children in the right path recited their will to a man and demanded he write them down so the words could never be forgotten.

Na Tar'ta'rus -(Ni Pel'pé'Roo)-Out of Fate - An ancient poem of unknown origin but many attribute it to Marma'Tuu, the witch, who is believed to have composed it in her early days of exile.

Ku'zam - (K'zem) - Soul Shield - A type of over garment worn on the upper body. Rectangular in shape it is customary for males of all ages to wear one.

Gharmena - (G'rmana) - Sagewoman – Women are the life givers, the only beings capable of giving birth and thus are believed to have a stronger connection with Larlin. Considered the highest attainable title by any Sunarii and is reserved only to women.

Suna'Jor'Lum - The Gods' Dominion – The home of the gods. A land of unimaginable beauty where the gods roam free. The only realm where the Life Force can exist in its purest form. The Sunarii souls ascends to it by help of the Soulcatchers and are taken carefully back to its source in the hands of Meula'Vaa.

Larl'Jik'Tasoo – (Larr'Jee'Tso) The Soulcatchers – The soul escapes the body of a dead Sunarii and like an untamed beast it runs wildly. The Soulcatchers are beings created for the sole purpose of bringing souls back to the Gods' Dominion.

Aviltana – (Ha'Vilteena) – Tears of Life – A river from the Cata'Taga region.

CAST OF CHARACTERS FOR THE WANDERER

Wa'Nda - (Wan'der) - 'The Sunlit' - Protagonist of the tale and the game Shadow of The Colossus. Also known as 'The Red Haired Warrior", Wa'Nda's achievements are revered throughout the land for his impressive skill, agility and courage. He brought many honors to his tribe and fought through several conflicts with other tribes. To many of his people he is an exemplary Sunarii who respects the gods and the rules imposed by his people.

Mo'No - (Māhnú) - 'Flower of the Wind' - Not much is known except that her father is the chieftain and that she is Wa'Nda's wife and by the time the story begins she is already dead.

Illipino - (Eeleep'nu) - Wind Feet - A powerful black stallion and sole companion of Wa'Nda throughout his travels. It is said he wears the mark of the devil-god Jhur'Jnac.

Witam Der'Ja ( Wee'am Ler'Ua) - A famous Warrior and often referred to as the only father figure to the infamous Wa'Nda.

Deo'Nees - (Leo'Nis) - Father of Mo'No and chieftain to the

Parele'Suna (Perale'Soon) - Calm Water of the Gods - Older sister of Wa'Nda and branded an exile along with her mother. The two were considered malicious and dangerous for keeping Wa'Nda's intentions a secret. The last time anyone set eyes on them, both women disappeared into the Forest of The Singing Children.

Da'Gna (De'Na) - Autumn Leaf - Mother of Mo'No and wife the ruler of the Gilgitak village situated in mountainous region of Cata'Taga.

Marma'Tuu - (M'rma'To) - Dark Fire - Powerful witch famous for her unprecedented ability to control the shadow-arts. She is said to have slain Gorgol, the God of Malice.

Jhur'Jnac - (Foor'nek)Preys' King - An ancient devil-god of legend, his story dates back to the days when the Sunarii inhabited the Forbidden Lands. Opinion is divided as who created him. Some believe Jhur'Jnac is a punishment from the gods, while others believe the animals' hatred grew so powerful that all their souls gave birth to the devil-god. Regardless, he banished the Sunarii for eternity from what he was first to call: The Forbidden Lands.

Emon - (Ah'mun) - Beholder - Reknown Sageman from the village of For'Ti'Fah who went after Wa'Nda after learning of the youg man's insult to the gods.

Dormin - (Dhor'meen) - Little is known about these mystical beings other than their imprisonment in the Forbidden Lands.

Delpa'Sen - (Dalpe'Sn) - God of Curses and Pity - Preferring to live amongst the Sunarii and away from the realm of the Gods, Delpa'Sen roams the world of the Sunarii looking for worthy souls to bare parts of him. His love for the Sunarii is undeniable but his actions are often interpreted as vile curses. Newborns baring his marks are often remarkably strong but by the age of fifteen they die in incredibly frail.

Children of Fate

Fate cast upon the world her children

Each given parts of her essence

Sacrifice -Hope-Curse

The trinity of mother's womb

For her life, the Colossus fell

The lies and chaos of evils found

The sword split the world

But by the end, He fell out of himself

The animal consumed the boy

But none found safety

From the atrocities of fear made executioner

Far away from it all, her mystical hands found, the peaceful way to freedom

Her body a ruin laid in darkness

Her soul given to the whispering unknowns of the world

Made queen of shadows, crown heavy, she ruled the emptiness of perpetuity

But her daughter forever shone like the sun never to be touched by her again

Fate's instrument played aloud

As each child danced and lay their threads

The tears, the laughter, the agonies, the fears

Overwhelmed with sympathy, she aided them,

A tip of the statue, an ancient sword, a daughter reborn.

- excerpt of the ancient poem Out of Fate (Na Tar'ta'rus )

Prologue

One step, into the sun; two steps, into the moon…So it was the way he began his quest. Looking forward, without the shackles of remorse or regret; disappearing into the vast wilderness, into the ends of the world, to cure his love of an illness–a truth, an inescapable reality that could only be solved by myth. The warrior looked for answers where none had ever dared to look, forgetting the Gods, forgetting his village and putting away all the things that made him a Sunarii. The Cursed Knight moved as a shadow, a murmur in the night towards the light of paradise so that he could grasp his love away from eternal sleep and bring her back into Rhua(existence). Little did he know of his sacrifice, blinded by love, he was to face the impossible but had acquired the tools without merit and without the blessings of his people. He grabbed Trepilas, the ageless sword, in his cold hands and it did not reject him. The sword accepted his will and intentions, giving firm belief that perhaps one of the Gods pitied his foolish pursuit. Trepilas, the blade of legends, was believed to have been forged at the very ends of the earth, the land to which the warrior now traveled. It became his sole recourse in a quest that would not end before giants would be shaken and his soul ultimately lost, forever. He fell deep into the abyss of minor deities playing games with a determined, courageous and powerful man unlike any of us had ever before seen. Let us sing for you, Oh red haired warrior, the formidable and cursed, wherever you are, your legend will be told and you will not be forgotten. – The Journals of The Honorable Witam Der'Ja

Many hundreds of years after the creation of the Sunarii, young Na, Goddess of Fate, who had grown tired of her brothers and sisters' teasing, stole, in her own selfishness, empty bodies of men and women to imbue them with her essence. She had barely begun before Meula'Vaa caught her in the act, destroyed her work and punished her severely. This event was marked in history and became known as the Jilji'Suul (The Days of Darkness) for Fate was imprisoned with her brother Fyo to repent for her actions. Before Na, the defiant, was swept away by her mother, she hid from her three bodies. In her exile, she continued to write the tales of her children. The stories were beautiful, full of glory and happiness, for Na only wished the best for her children. Unfortunately her malicious brother Fyo found and stole the bodies as Na argued with their mother. Fyo altered his sister's work, adding lines that would even be secret to Na and then cast the three bodies immediately upon the world. Two of them fell within the same woman, with only a few years difference, but the third took much longer and fell far away. Na, furious with her brother demanded he be punished, but Mother Earth looked upon her with heavy eyes and said:

"You have violated the rules, my child. Your brother is only guilty of his own malevolence; had you not done the undoable, none would suffer because of this. Pay the price for your selfishness, my daughter."

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As was stipulated by tradition, Mo'No's body laid atop a mesmerizing bed of Umni flowers for all to see. The crowd of Sunarii men and women stood silent and dared not cry, even though in their hearts of hearts, the pain was an unbearable burden. The powers of the Gods must be an act witnessed and accepted by all. Death was a passage and the body needed to be honoured in gratitude for her life, no matter how short-lived. The young corpse was beautiful. She laid in a minutely crafted white dress. Mo'No's small face seemed even smaller within a white pillow and a sea of her long dark hair. The rainbow of colours underneath her body contrasted with her radiant white skin. Mo'No's father, Deo'Nees, seemed in a trance as he wore the ceremonial funeral mask and walked whilst chanting songs of worship. He waved his arms reaching for the sky, touching his daughter's forehead from time to time. Wa'Nda stood steps away from his wife's body. He felt as though he had been left behind, alive and powerless. His mother stood beside him, and held his right hand as she barely contained her tears for the woman who would have bared her grandchildren. Wa'Nda's grip tightened as Mo'No's mother, Da'Gna, approached her daughter's body and released her motherly chains as she in turn chanted to the gods and pierced her index finger to let her blood drip against Mo'No's forehead. Her soul was now the gods' and no one could bring her back. Wa'Nda fell to his knees in desperation and his thin red hair hid his face. Deo'Nees disapproved of Wa'Nda's actions and quickly approached the young man. Wa'Nda could hear Deo'Nees' heavy breathing under the mask.

"Fal'Nha, control your son!" Deo'Nees growled. "You will show respect to the Gods and you will not bring dishonour to her soul!"

The old man had always been good to his daughter's husband, even if exceedingly stern at times; he always meant to protect her. Now, even in death, he did the same, even if her body did not belong with them, her soul deserved comfort.

The old Sunarii tried to grab Wa'Nda but was immediately pushed away and though he could not see Deo'Nees' face through the mask, the old man's eyes seemed to cry out to him in sorrow.

"Her body has not aged to nature's call!" said Wa'Nda in an alarming tone, while pointing at his wife's corpse. "Her body has remained as beautiful as the day I first set eyes on her! Do you not see this? Do you not remember it? Only a fool ignores such an affront to the gods' rules! Look with your own eyes or have you all turned blind?" demanded Wa'Nda in an angry cry of distress.

Mo'No's father waved to a few men not far from Wa'Nda. The message was clear: Wa'Nda was to be taken away for he had lost his composure. All his life, the red haired youth followed the Sunarii etiquette to perfection, but in his furiousness, as he witnessed how easily they gave her away to the gods, he could not contain himself. The men approached Wa'Nda and tried vainly to take him away. The young Sunarii was too agile and powerful. He did not hurt the men for they were his companions, but he dodged their attempts with incredible skill by pushing their hands away and making them lose balance.

"Stop it now!" ordered Mo'No's mother. "Please, we are all saddened by my daughter's passing. Contain your anger, do not displease the gods and hold Mo'No from their dominion! My daughter, my flower of the wind, must reach them in peace! Be it your last gesture as her husband..."

The words rang true. Da'Gna's face trembled with sorrow as Wa'Nda's eyes traveled across the old woman's body and witnessed the shaken state she was in.

As a Sunarii, Wa'Nda believed in the gods just like any other of his tribe. His breathing was heavy and the desperation that ravaged his body subsided but did not fade. Mo'No deserved her peace and a safe travel to the gods.

The young man went back to his mother, and immediately took her hand for reassurance.

"Do they not see it, mother? Do they not see how death has not touched her body for days!" whispered Wa'Nda to his mother his eyes fixed away on his wife.

The old woman did not respond to her son, for she was lost in memories of her husband's death and how she had once held Wa'Nda's hand the very same way when he was but a boy. Now it was his turn to bare the pain fully, as an adult, as a man, without a child to console his sorrows. He would be left alone, loveless and angry. She could already see the traces of a bottomless grief on his face.

Evening approached, and the dead were not to be mourned at night. Wa'Nda had never meant to anger Deo'Nees but he knew it was too late for apologies. The old Sunarii followed the traditions; he needed to set an example for all those who stood around them, even if in this moment he just wanted to be a father mourning his daughter. Deo'Nees carried a much heavier burden than Wa'Nda, for he was the chieftain and his actions echoed across his people. Deo'Nees continued the ceremony, but was left deeply disturbed by the young Sunarii's actions. Anger travels across the body, like the ravaging of mad buffalos, leaving one's heart empty. It had consumed Wa'Nda, even if for a short moment. He would speak to the boy about this day, of that he was sure. At least for the remainder of the ceremony there were no more interruptions, except for the loud calls of the falcons flying high above them.

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Night set in and the air was cold. Wa'Nda having never left the field, on which his wife's remains lay, found himself lost deep in thoughts. Though people warned him to leave her be, no one dared to force him.

"Even nature cannot take away your beauty. Even if the Gods want you to die, your body lays as beautiful as any other day when your eyes looked at me and we spoke of the future." said Wa'Nda contently with a sour smile.

"She is dead my boy. My daughter will never speak again. Learn to accept the fate of our fragility. Though I believe as strongly as you that she should have lived a hundred years!" said Da'Gna as she approached him and sat beside him.

"Nature does not claim her. Why?" asked Wa'Nda in a low saddened voice.

"Do not question the Gods. Mo'No's body will leave us whenever it is deemed ready and until then she will remain on the Umni bed." replied Da'Gna.

"Why those flowers?" the words escaped his lips.

"The Umni's scent is said to be the gods' favorite and it is a flower that blooms in any color. The Gods will only accept her if she is properly give back to them. Do not ask 'why' anymore. It is our tradition–it is the way of our people." answered Da'Gna with a low but affirmative voice.

They did not speak to one another for long time while thinking, whimpering and laughing to themselves, beneath the stars, beneath the gods and at their mercy.

The old woman tapped Wa'Nda on the shoulder as she got up and left him to his grief. That night Wa'Nda dreamed a fearful dream and it revealed to him things that he had never before doubted.

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In the morning Wa'Nda awoke anxious, his body trembling and full of sweat. The young Sunarii ran to his mother to tell her of his dream since she was a Gharmena (Sagewoman) and would be able to explain to him what it meant. When he got to the tribe his mother and sister sat outside their hut near a fire, preparing food, smiling and laughing as they spoke.

"Mother I need to speak with you." said Wa'Nda softly.

The old woman turned her head to him and examined him silently before speaking. She wet her lips, swallowed and said with a smile: "Speak my son."

"I've dreamt of things–things I cannot comprehend…" said the young man worryingly.

"The shadow world, the world from which dreams are born and take form is made of truths and lies. It is not a world we can understand. But speak to me of this dream and we might make something out of it," replied the old woman who now shed her motherly tone to take that of a Sagewoman.

The Dream

Prior to setting his wife upon the bed of Umni flowers in the Ritual of Passage, a husband must bathe his wife in the clearest of rivers and be certain that she is clear of all physical impurities. Wa'Nda chose Ayiltana, a river situated southeast of his village and from which memories sprouted easily. He remembered Mo'No brushing her long dark hair near the shore after a fresh bath. Her toes dipped lightly into the water as Wa'Nda swam, feeling a cool breeze against his wet body. Sometimes the loud change of force in the wind cut short their peaceful moment. Wa'Nda would hear the surrounding trees sway as the wind passed erratically through them, like the overwhelming sound of a great giant of old approaching.

"It'll rain soon" he said as he emerged from the water. "We should go back to the village."

Now these were the only images left of her and memories soon turn into blurred images that become harder to grasp. Wa'Nda resented the prospect of his life continuing without her. He grew up seeing the beautiful body of his future wife turn from that of a child into that of a woman. Wa'Nda held his wife's naked body as the stream of water ran through them. The wind, like the fluttering of butterflies to his ears, showered all around him, but not even Fa could shake him this day. Wa'Nda scooped the water with his right hand and poured it upon Mo'No's face. For a moment it looked like she was crying, but her eyes remained closed. He wished for her to speak but her lips remained still. He stroked her lips. They felt soft and cold.

"Covered in death yet you remain a soothing view, my love. How I wish for you."

He cried, overwhelmed by an agony unknown to him and an ever growing anger consuming every single part of him. As he opened his eyes, the river turned black as night, and a sudden force pulled Mo'No's body down as Wa'Nda futilely tried to keep her afloat. He screamed, cried, hit the water, and dove in but soon lost his grip on her. Exhausted, breathless and drowned in the dark river in a frightening deafening silence, Wa'Nda examined the water as his heart pounded loudly in his ears. In the corner of his eye he saw out near the shore, coming slowly out of the water, the body of his wife. She was bathed in black, like a shadow. She stepped upon the earth and walked away from the river. Wa'Nda swam towards her, screaming her name but she did not listen or chose not to. She sat on a rock and seemed to wait for something. Now out of the water, Wa'Nda inspected his body for fear the dark sea also left its traces upon him but there was nothing. His skin was clear. As he approached, Mo'No remained motionless and expressionless.

"I am lost in a dream, a fearful dream." she said in a monotone voice without looking at him." I am... SCARED!"

As she let out the words, her sentence ended with sharp screams that seemed to come from many more throats than her own.

Wa'Nda was overwhelmed with dread. The sorcery that powered her resurrection must be a curse of unprecedented power.

"My love, do not be frightened, I am here and death is but a passage. Believe in the teachings..." said Wa'Nda.

"The teachings? What of them? A pack of lies, for what I have ever done to deserve such a fate? What possible curse did I conjure from the grudges so evil they haunt me even in death?" replied Mo'No's specter its voice still without true identity. "They tell me it is my father, along with a man named Emon, who have chastised me so."

"Who do you mean? Who have you spoken to?" asked Wa'Nda as he bent to reach for his wife's face.

Mo'No did not move and her eyes remained closed but the shadow that enveloped her made it hard to discern any of her features. Wa'Nda tried to clean her face but the darkness repelled him with force. Wa'Nda fell and looked at his wife helplessly.

"The Dormin, they have shielded me from my fate, keeping me alive. For I sleep upon the edge of a knife. I can feel the winds of the Suna'Jor'Lum calling for me."

"How can I save you? I do not possess any great power; I am but a simple Sunarii warrior. My heart aches in this moment, as my soul echoes in sorrow. I wish–since it is but a wish, a dream–that I can rescue you from this torment!" said Wa'Nda having approached her and now crying at her feet. He felt the coldness of death touch his shoulder. His very soul seemed to be extracted from him for an instant.

"There is a way you can undo what my father and Emon have done..."said she.

He looked up at her, afraid and curious. Though he loved his wife beyond all imaginable, Wa'Nda began to question what transpired.

"You must travel far, to the Ereki'Su'lali but I have faith that you will succeed. The Dormin live there! They are our salvation!" Mo'No continued.

"Why would such beings help us? Nothing from those lands can be of any good. We are told horrible stories since youth and now you wish for me to carelessly throw away all reasoning and trust these beings—these Dormin?" said Wa'Nda intrigued.

The ground shook, leaves fell all around them, and Mo'No finally opened her eyes as she lowered herself to Wa'Nda, slowly and sensually.

"I can see the fear in your eyes, your breath runs thin. I know what you feel for I have felt it. For you see, my life was robbed within a dream. Powerful magic holds my life in stillness and I do not know how long I am to remain this way."said Mo'No softly as she caressed his face.

"This is a dream? I was certain that this was true, so true. My pain is real, my tears are real!" replied Wa'Nda, confused.

"This is my dream… The Dormin protect me here. I have tried, in vain, to speak to you before. Their powers do not usually travel this far but they are indeed powerful, my love." Mo'No murmured into Wa'Nda's ear.

"My love", he thought in silence. "How long have I longed to hear those words again?"

The ground shook again and with a stunned look of surprise Mo'No stumbled onto the floor. "Someone else is here!" exclaimed Mo'No, her voice trembling, almost angry. "But how?"

The ground reverberated with what seemed to be the stomping of a thousand horses. Wa'Nda could hear them in the distance and Mo'No held on with fear, and did not dare to move from the ground.

"Be wary of what you see in these dreams, Wa'Nda." said a voice coming from all around them. "For what she speaks of is impossible by the rules of mortals. Life is a balance and souls cannot be reclaimed so easily. The Dormin are a foul kind, though they are not known for their lies, they prefer to speak in half-truths."

"Can a mortal be brought back to life?" yelled Wa'Nda.

"Perhaps... I am no god. And who am I to take away your hope? You love this woman dearly but this is not her –."

"I care not for the trivial details of curses, I know this specter is but an image of my beloved Mo'No and I will play its game! I do not believe the filth she spills out of her mouth, for what type of fool am I? This is all the proof I needed to know that something is indeed amiss in her death. Spirit–"said Wa'Nda turning towards the dark image who smiled on the floor. "What is your purpose?"

The shadow now disappearing, Mo'No's naked body and natural glow returned with the soft pink hue of fresh and warm blood running through her veins. Her dark hair, radiated with life as the sun set upon them. Wa'Nda felt his body become weak with sorrow. How he longed to be with her once more, how he longed to love her, the specter's tricks were taking a toll on the young man who boiled with hope. Mo'No seemed so alive and yet he knew of the death curse that empowered her to move. For a moment, Wa'Nda wished to remain in the dream forever. To see her like this was better than never setting eyes on her again.

"Powerfullittle man you are, my red haired husband. I must admit, I believed myself to be playing you all along… How you must wish for this body once more." said the spirit walking towards the water looking back at Wa'Nda. "I admire your courage but I am not here to claim you as my own. The waves move with you, do you not see it? Your wife was cursed since the day she was born and her father knew this. He demanded for her to be spared but Emon's patience came to an end and he decided to poison her himself." said the specter nonchalantly.

"I have never seen nor heard of an Emon, how could he have killed her?!" demanded Wa'Nda angrily.

"How dare you question me, mortal?" growled the spirit back at him."The time for games has ended. You are lucky indeed and the more I see the pieces fall into place I come to believe that you are without question the Dormin's salvation. Do you know of one named Parele'Suna?"

"What of her? She is my sister, a High Sagewoman! How does she come into this?" Wa'Nda's voice rose with surprise.

"Lord Emon is a high sageman. She must have come into contact with him through her training." said the spirit sitting at the shore, chuckling and dipping her feet into the stream of clear running water. "He ordered her to kill your na'na and she did it without hesitation–the mark of a true follower. Do not blame your sister, Emon is a crafty little bug of a man who always manages to get his way but he has played his part! In his blindness, in his absolute dedication to the 'Gods', he overlooked the fact that Mo'No did not need to be alive to play her part. If there is one thing you can remember from this, it is this: You can revive your beloved, but it will surely cost you more than what the Dormin appear to be willing to admit. We are all victims of the Dormin's actions. By doing this I am free of my torment at their hands. THIS is my purpose–I do not foresee any better for you."

"Your words are vile!" Wa'Nda spit back at her.

"Mo'No bares a child, ask Parele'Suna of this, tell her of this and watch the features on her face crumble as she realizes her actions. She is good, she did what she believed the tribe needed in order to remain out of the Gods disfavor– ", replied the specter.

"She bared my child?" questioned Wa'Nda in disbelief.

"A horned boy, a child gifted by Delpa, the God of Curses. Have you never seen his 'gifts'? They consist of deformities, horns, skin maladies, but in his desperation, in his love, he believes he is granting them a holy trait. Humans cannot retain such gifts, their bodies are far too frail and they die. But not right away–some take many years, but they all eventually succumb to the same fate. Your son would have died too. I saw it in her for I too visited her corpse. Her life and his remain in the Dormin's grasp. With the last remaining strand of their power they've kept her life at the brink of existence. Only bringing her back to the Dormin's dominion will release her and your son. Now play your part, she has played hers, and remember there is no escaping it."

Mo'No's head turned to look back at Wa'Nda. Her eyes were empty, lifeless, but her mouth opened, the lips moved and said: "Awake!"

The seed of doubt has been planted. The warrior will embark on his journey to raise his beloved from the dead. Now there is no stopping him. He travels with hope, the only recourse for those left with nothing. Even mortals appear immortal when driven by it. You have done your job well.

Like awaking from death, as though emerging from a deep sea, Wa'Nda desperately gasped for air as his eyes opened and the sun blinded him. It was morning and Mo'No's body rested on the bed of flowers, beautiful, calm, cursed…

Chapter 1

The Fate of Curses

The black stallion that accompanied Wa'Nda throughout his travels is as much a legend as his famous rider. He is another proof that Wa'Nda's fate was preconceived by a powerful force. Their harmony in battle was unprecedented. Some say they were part of the same soul, others believe the horse to have been a magical creature, but no matter, none could deny the relationship man and beast shared. Aggro began his life as Illipido, a gift from Lord Emon to the chieftain of our tribe, and Mo'No's friendship with Wa'Nda helped the young man acquire the horse from her father. The youngling showed tremendous potential as a hunter and warrior, Witam'Derja being a stern believer in the young man's attributes could find no better suit for such an honorable gift. Many in our tribe were jealous, but the young Wa'Nda paid little attention to their sharp stares. I saw Wa'Nda ride the horse whilst standing perfectly upright on its back holding his bow and shooting down a deer right in the heart. The boy grew to be a force to be reckoned with and none could match his speed and skill with a sword. He was tremendously athletic and always pushed to put on a show for everyone to see while we went out hunting. While some of us would have been perfectly happy hiding and shooting down our meals, Wa'Nda, for his part, found no satisfaction in this simplicity. He rushed in with his horse, jumped from it onto trees, flew through the air with his red hair shining as blinding fire in the sun. Aggro seemed to enjoy the whole affair, flying through the wind like a shadow in Wa'Nda's pursuit. The animal's black mane danced, its muscles glittering like dark pearls, as Wa'Nda called for him and no sooner would Aggro be by his side. A unity worthy of the legends they have become! - The Memories of Ka'Ghree, High Sagewoman

The Legend of Epolo

In the year of the Stalking Wolf, that is to say, eons ago, there lived a man named Epolo. He was not a very tall man, nor was he particularly handsome but they say he had the heart of a mountain lion. He was a warrior before all else and he did not dedicate his life to a wife. In the old times, warriors were fiercely respected more than the tradition of family. And so his sole purpose was to live for nature and he called animals his children. In the old tongue, we called these warriors of nature "Aggro", for it represented their connection with Vaa'Ga. Epolo became the last of all the Aggro and the term became his nickname. Also, during those times, the Larlii did not wear our traditional Ku'Zam instead they wore thick animal fur from the buffalos, bears and wolves. The gods had overlooked the stealing of the fur since the Larlii prayed respectfully to the heavens whenever they cut an animal from its essence, its fur. During Epolo's time a new chieftain came to power in a rather abrupt way, he was much too young to replace his deceased father. The young man's name was Obnate'Kur and he did not enforce certain traditions. Many felt that Epolo should have been named chieftain but with time they forgot their loyalty preferring a life lacking rules, laws and traditions. The gods looked upon the Larlii with furious eyes as our ancestors became ruthless with their killings of animals and hunting had become a pleasure rather than a necessity. Epolo often objected to the chieftain's decisions and they fought constantly and openly. The men in the village grew to dislike the aging Larlii who had soon become the eldest of the tribe.

The gods, for their part, found a way to make the Larlii pay for their insolence. A young man arrived at the village exhausted and badly hurt after a day of needless hunting. The women were the first to find him and aided him in whatever way they could but his life had already forsaken him. What was in front of them was a puppet to a devil-god. When they were questioned about what had happened, the women simply said that he had the look of death on him and spit out words with hatred:" Tarma sunpi Jhur'Jnak." , which in the old Larlii language means:" The mighty devil-god Jhur'Jjnak."

Obnate'Kur dismissed the women, claiming they were blinded by lunacy and added that the man and his group had met their doom while hunting which was not unusual, even if rare.

Days passed and more men died while women and children disappeared. Fear grew amongst the Larlii and they decided to go away from the cursed land. No matter, the devil-god Jhur'Jnak haunted their steps constantly.

Epolo remained stern with the young chieftain and continued to humiliate him in front of the tribe by defying his authority and let Obnate'Kur know when his decisions were wrong and rushed.

The vengeful Obnate'Kur decided to sentence the old hero to death by organizing an expedition to find the devil-god Jhur'Jnak. He knew he could not convince the whole tribe to turn against Epolo but he could let him die a warrior's death. He met secretly with all the men who would accompany Epolo in the expedition and ordered them to leave the old man deep in the woods to fend for himself. Obnate'Kur branded the last Aggro an exile.

No one dared reject the order but some began to understand that Obnate'Kur was tainted with evil.

The day of the expedition came and Epolo readied his horse in early morning. Deep in thought, he wondered what the devil-god would look like.

One of the men approached Epolo and asked him if he was ready to go. Epolo nodded firmly and quietly. The man, nevertheless, remained at his side and touched him on the shoulder before leaving him.

Epolo felt something deep in his soul. He could smell the uncertainty in the morning air, he could sense a curse vibrate all around him.

They rode for many days before reaching the edge of the Howling Wind forest where the last party of men had met their doom. Epolo's companions were distant during the trip and it seemed they avoided talking to him. The old warrior was used to this treatment but something was different in their eyes. There was a touch of sadness and regret.

Darkness set in and the men camped for the night. During that evening they laughed, drank and shared stories and did not treat Epolo indifferently. The old man felt great respect from them and went to sleep happily.

He dreamt a good dream until he was awakened by the howling cries of his men. Night had not yet completely passed, but the sun beamed dimly in the distant mountains. Epolo, though startled, grabbed his sword from its sheath in reflex and got up in an instant. The old warrior knew he needed to calm down. He spat on the ground, his throat was dry and he swallowed forcefully. He looked around him and he was alone, they had left him. Their things were gone. The old warrior was furious and sad. His eyes watered as he began to understand his fate for on the ground laid the Sign of Exile. His tribe had rejected him. They chose the reckless chieftain over him.

They had made their choice and now it was his turn to make his.

"Come out! Come out Jhur'Jnak, devil-god! I do not fear you! I do not fear death!" exclaimed the old man.

He could hear the screams continue, he could hear each of them distinctly.

Frao'Ba, Qi'Lilote, Eyu'Na, Hmu'Tlo, She'Tam... All the men begged for mercy, until they begged for death. Epolo heard an indistinct sound, much like a loud breath through a small throat, animal-like but still somewhat human.

Epolo reached down on the ground and bathed his face and sword with the cold earth.

"Gods know me, gods look over me, gods guide me!" he said as he rushed towards the sounds and the blinding darkness of the forest.

He heard galloping all around him. He swung his sword in anger but his movements were clear and smooth. Though his arms were old, his strikes were true, precise and powerful.

"What manner of creature are you?" screamed Epolo who felt all his strikes blocked.

"One and all!" responded an echo which repeated many times and seemed to come from inside Epolo's own head. "I am much more than that. I am the stomping of the buffalo, the galloping of the wild horses, the claws of the wolves, everything your kind has deemed so futile and without a soul. I am the fluttering of wings from each insect, the worms that eat your flesh. I am the souls of all that you have slain ungrateful Larliien."

Darkness took hold of Epolo and engulfed him. Soon he could no longer move. His body did not respond, he could not feel his flesh. He heard his sword fall to the ground, the metal clashing against the earth.

"I am Jhur'Jnak, a spirit condemned to damn the Larlii. I am sent by those you call Gods. Beings who could not forgive your insolence." said the indistinct voice that seemed to be breathing on his neck. It sounded much like the mix of a woman, man and child. "You cannot kill me Epolo."

"I will try! I will try until there is no blood rushing through my veins!" said the Larliien warrior.

"Your men left you to me. Your men betrayed you, yet you wish to avenge their deaths? What kind of loyalty is this? An animal's loyalty, loyalty that men have forgotten!" said the voice angry and surprised.

"You will pass here Epolo, your soul will be gone to the very gods which granted me this revenge quest." said the voice calmly.

"The gods—I cannot believe this evil is their doing!" asked Epolo.

"So it is my fragile friend. Yet you feel different. You do not have the carelessness, the insolence which overwhelms the other Larlii!" said the voice intrigued.

"They are young—foolish and stupid! They would have eventually learned the right way!" said Epolo exhausted yet still proud.

"Your kind will die at my hands. Your kind is a hateful race which the gods now want gone from these parts." said Jhur'Jnak.

"Then they shall leave this place forever but do not kill them. Let me return to them and I will convince my tribe to go away!" said Epolo as he felt his life be drained out of him, each breath was becoming harder, each heartbeat more painful.

"I cannot let you leave but I will be merciful to you." said Jhur'Jnak. "You deserve this kindness from me. I can feel the souls stir in me; they tell me that you are worthy."

"Spare my kind! Let them know your wishes and they shall leave you alone! Give them one more chance!" said Epolo as he felt his eyelids become heavy and his final breath rush out of him.

"The fate of the Larlii is decided, you will not change it. You are only worthy of one thing..."

As Epolo woke, he first felt the earth beneath his body and eventually opened his eyes to a bright sun. The field upon which he laid was as vast as the eye could see. He raised himself up painfully and soon realized that his body was gone and in its stead was that of an animal. Jhur'Jnak had turned him into a horse. As he tried to move forward, he felt his paws give in for they were too fragile and he fell to the ground. He had not yet learned how to gallop. He was but a colt after all. His mother approached him and licked him. He did not know what year or why he had come back to life but soon he would go back to his tribe, even if the only Larliien part of him was his soul.