The Fading Path
Note: Super duper major spoilers for colossi-killing tactics and plot.
Disclaimer: Shadow of the Colossus (obviously) does not belong to me.
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To tell the truth, he can't say what it was he'd expected. But Wander is quite sure that whatever it was, it certainly wasn't this.
Colossi, Dormin had said, but the word hadn't sunk in until he'd scaled that last ledge, clambering awkwardly up to the top, and looked up and up and up…
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He does not come to the Forbidden Lands hoping for a way to revive Mono. The cloudless blue sky, the heat rising in a shimmering haze from the fields, and the relentless sunshine, they bleach away his desperate, stubborn desire, stripping it away with the miles as days passed and he slowly -so slowly he didn't know he how'd borne it- neared his destination.
It is replaced with knowledge, oddly tentative and expectant. There must be a way to revive her, because Wander has gone too far and done too much to ever go back now. He can see the bridge in the distance, swooping white arches and long slender pillars. The sword at his hip feels oddly heavy, and he winces every time it bangs against his leg.
There must be a way to revive her, Wander thinks, because otherwise, everything he has done will mean nothing. He does not hope anymore, because he cannot imagine what would happen if he were to fail.
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…and up, so high that his mind refuses even to categorize it as 'enemy', but rather slots the creature into his mind as 'mountain'. It takes a few precious seconds for it to begin working again, and by then he is running, sprinting towards it even as it turns ponderously to face him, every movement causing the ground to shake with the rattle and grind of rock.
He cannot hesitate, because he is well aware that if he does, he will lose his nerve, and the moment he loses his nerve will also be the moment he is crushed underfoot. There is the taste of fear, flat and metallic in his mouth, but it doesn't seem to quite reach his mind, which balanced perilously on the edge between icy calm and total panic. Tripping over the cracked and broken crusts of the earth, he narrowly avoids being flattened by a single overhand swing of a crude club that seems as much a part of the colossus as the curve of armor circling its wrists, or the mass of fur covering sloping shoulders.
The decision to climb onto its leg is as much impulse as thought. It was just the momentary glimpse of fur, long and ragged and grippable, and a faint pulse of memory, a beacon of light narrowing into a point just behind its left knee and an answering buzz from the ancient sword as it sought out and found weakness. Jump, it says, and he does, feeling the thrill of adrenaline and danger all the way up into his spine. Even now, as Wander sinks his blade into a crack that gleams bright blue, he can feel his bones hum in response to the keening of his sword, and he cannot help but wonder if this is what it has wanted all along.
The blue glint throws bright shadows onto his hands, his face, and in the dim light they glow paler than death.
He jumps, then jumps again, bracing himself against the worn metal armor and clinging on for dear life as it tries to shake him off. Wander has to fight for every foot he climbs, scrambling onto exposed ledges of rock to catch his breath when he could, making his way up its back.
Perhaps it is easier that way, he thinks, burying his hands deep into coarse, ropey fur. If it is not an enemy, then he doesn't have to wrap his mind around the idea of killing something that is a hundred, a thousand times his size, more living mountain than creature. It can be exactly that, a mountain, something to be scaled, piece by piece and bit by bit. It becomes an obstacle, just something to climb, and conquer until the end, when he drives his sword into the thrashing colossus's head with measured, vicious strokes. That, he can do.
And even if it means destroying it, destroying every last one of them, plunging the sacred sword into glowing glyphs amidst spurting black blood and the desperate thrashing of the creature underneath him, he will do it because he needs to bring back Mono, and Wander has gone too far and done too much to ever go back now.
The colossus fades beneath him, blurring into darkness, solid and clinging. He flinches away, losing his balance, and suddenly there is nothing but empty air and cracked ground, rushing to meet him.
Even as he falls, long tendrils of darkness follow. He jerks away in surprise as they pierce him with a crackle of electricity. He can feel the power running through his body, the thud of landing on hard dirt, but all of that was irrelevant, something happening in a distant world to someone else. Wander is lost in the darkness, but suddenly, there is light, and he forgets he was ever lost in the first place. Surrounded by the brightness, he can feel the triumph welling up in the back of his mind, full to overflowing.
He has won, and Wander knows this is true because he can hear Mono's voice.
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A/N: Well, the initial idea was to go for a 16 part piece, a story a colossus. Hopefully, I'll have enough inspiration and ideas to pull through with that, or at least finish a few more colossi.
Much thanks and love to Xamaris for helping me edit.