Echoes of the Colossus: Prologue
A long time ago, the humans forbade their feet to walk upon this ground. But that was so long ago, they have forgotten exactly why. Tales, legends exist, but they do not hold the whole story. They are just fragments, reflecting the lightning of past times in shattered pieces. Time has stretched and weathered them, bringing new lies into old truths and distorting the past. We have been forgotten. I have been forgotten.
I am just an echo.
Long waves beat against the shore under a windswept sky. White-capped crests crashed against the wet sand, which stubbornly resisted their dragging weight. The sky, from which the wind howled, was overcast with bright clouds, such an unusual sight, as if they glowed from within in the absence of a true sun.
Tall cliffs rose away from the beach, sheer, unfriendly stone which even the black salamanders hesitated to climb. Here and there, they were pierced by passages, yawning dark paths from here to there. If they could be likened to a maze, they were of no particular danger, for their lengths were mediocre in length and no confident traveller would become lost within them, if they had with them a guide.
But there were never travellers here. This land was empty. It had been empty for a time beyond the greatest memories of man.
One could call this land beautiful. There was something impressive to be found in the great, soaring cliffs and the wind that whipped through them. The way the glowing light of the sky reflected off the ocean waves was inspiring, and the grass grew along the shore in plush ripples, broken here and there by a bush or tree, though such growth was sparse.
However, sitting at the edge of the beach, near the base of a mighty cliff, was an ugly, misshapen lump of stone. Tufts of yellowed, mangled grass grew here and there on it, and soil around it ran up and down its craggy surface in rivlets, as if trying to consume it. It broke the landscape unnaturally, out of place on the flow of the shoreline. It looked as if it didn't belong.
The wind was cold across its surface. The sound of the waves echoed faintly around it, as if muffled by fog.
The wind was cold. The craggy surface shivered involuntarily, dirt spilling from its back.
It opened its eyes, covered in white film so thick their original color was lost. The white light of the clouds pierced the film, and the stone let out a terrified shriek.
It was...alive? How could this be? The stone's mind was full of fog and smoke, unable to recall anything but its last moments. Helpless, immobile on the soil, energy and power stripped from its body in all their forms. Curled in a ball at the feet of a mighty another, fists lifted to strike it down. The stone had faded from consciousness, its final surrender. The last thing its clouded eyes saw was a flash of bright light, believed at that moment to be final cutting of its soul from its body.
But instead, it was alive again. And it was alone in the place it had fallen.
What of the war? Where are my comrades?
They must be dead. Otherwise they would have woken the stone from its unconscious state.
But then, what of the being it remembered, crouched overhead? What of...him?
He was going to kill her. What fantastic event could've stayed his hand? Had it been a comrade, plunging in to deflect the blow? But there were no remains of either side, not of the stone's or it's enemies. Had any one remained, the stone would be in a different state.
Despite the thick film over its eyes, it could see, faintly, in outlines, light and shadow. It could see the light reflecting off the waves, and the edge of the lapping water. It was much closer than it had been, in the stone's last memories.
Those cloudy eyes widened. The beach had eroded away, a distance that would have taken two thousand years or more, from its foggy estimate. It had been asleep, trapped, for over two thousand years.
Its breathing began to quickly fearfully, like a trapped animal. Each breath was painful, rasping in its long-unused lungs. It's eyes darted around, fearing every shadow that crept across the landscape. Surely, something would've sensed its awakened, and was coming to kill it.
But nothing moved. No beings descended upon the shore, or rose from the waves. The shadows were just shadows, benign as could be.
And the sky was quiet. The wind was the only thing that stirred the clouds, and if the war had been lost to those darkened spirits, for sure this land would be vastly different.
The stone squeezed its eyes tightly shut, trying to calm itself. Oh, if only it could remember anything beyond its last moments! Anything but the terrible specter that had hovered above, that being of light and shadow, moving to strike the final blow against his downed foe. And how the stone, cowardly and frail, had shut its eyes in fear of watching its own life end, no longer able to take the burning light that emitted from the being's spectral eyes.
Dormin. The name came back to the stone, who cowered in reflex, tucking its head against its narrow chest. But no lightning fell from the sky to smite it, and the shadows did not curl into forms, claws extended to rip and tear. An ethereal peace was settled across the land, one that was so solid and sure nothing could be disrupting it.
Dormin must have been vanquished. There was no other explanation. He would not have suffered the rock to live otherwise.
It peered once more from its earthly prison, with a spark more of confidence. Perhaps, just perhaps, this land was safe again, and it had just narrowly avoided death.
But that just couldn't be it. The answer couldn't be so simple.
I must figure out what has become of him. If only I could remember more!
But she knew this land. That was a different type of memory, an implicit memory, like the memory of how to climb a tree, or wield a sword.
The stone's right fist instinctively contracted, grasping for a weapon. But none was to be found; that had been stolen from the stone along with the rest of its powers.
I will not find answers by sitting here in a lump. That was for sure.
The stone shuddered, shaking more dirt from its back. It uncurled skinny limbs, and it was revealed not to be a stone at all, but the hunched, emaciated form of some being, some creature unidentifiable. The yellowed grass on its head and neck wasn't grass at all, but mange-ridden fur, scattered in thin, rough patches above infected, scaly skin. The fur was thickest on the creature's head, almost resembling the eccentric, mangled hair of some mad-minded humans, those who roamed the streets and yelled nonsense to the sky. The creature was so emaciated, its head seemed too big for its neck, which seemed too long for its shoulders, narrow and boney. Each rib stood out in relief on its sides, and the bones of its hips projected like sharp ridges, ending at its tailless rear.
The creature stumbled onto four legs, shaking more dirt from itself. It felt the urge to push up from the ground, to walk as it should, on twos, but it had not the strength. So instead, it crawled on fours, moving away from the water and towards the towering cliffs.
I...I remember where I am. And where I should go. It knew the way, back into the heart of this land, where perhaps there were answers. It entered into one of the clefts in the wall of stone, instinctively shying away from the shadows until they were unavoidable. Once consumed by the dark, it walked even more fearfully, legs bent and cloudy eyes flicking nervously about. Nothing was to be seen or heard, besides the scuttling lizards and whisking wind.
One eye became caught upon one of the small reptiles. The creature slowed, its mind recalling the taste of food, of feasts from so long ago, of grand proportion. But this lizard was a mere mortal beast, containing none of the grand energy found within the beings of the Higher Lands.
The Higher Lands. The name rang emptily in the ragged creature's mind, but somehow it knew its significance. Much like it could recall the broad scope of this earthy ground it walked upon, it could recall vast expanses of beautiful grounds, towering mountains, and lush forests that made up what had once been her home, and the home of her comrades. A land to which they could commute, flying so high they pierced the fabric of the sky itself and entered what lay beyond.
A sharp pain coursed suddenly down the creature's back, and it whimpered pitifully. Out of instinct, it had tried to stretch its wings, only to feel the ridged, coarse scar tissue running down its back where the appendages should've been. It stumbled, forelegs collapsing, and plowed nose-first into the dirt.
Oh, get up...you are as miserably as you were in your last moments, the creature weakly chided itself, putting its forefeet back on the ground and shaking its head. Another dark-scaled lizard crawled past its nose, unafraid of the mangy beast. Fully knowing it would do very little to aid its situation, the creature shot out a paw, trying to catch the reptile. It squeaked in surprise and scuttled away, outpacing the creature's blow. It caught the lizard's tail in its claws, barely, and the reptile quickly dropped the appendage, fleeing to safety without it.
I am so weak! The creature bowed its head shamefully. No longer fast enough to even catch a lonely lizard, it stuck the severed tail into its mouth a chewed mournfully on crooked teeth. The tail was barely more than a morsel, but even so, the creature felt a renewed bit of warmth in its chest from the small meal.
It pushed itself back to its feet and walked onwards, trying to shake the cold from its bones. The cliffs opened up not long after, revealing a rolling expanse of green plains, dotted with rocks and small cliffs. Larger shelves of stone rose around it, forming looming borders to the north and south. The creature was trying to go north, but its memories told it there were more passages through the thick stone that it could follow. The cliffs would not stand in its way.
But that would wait, for the creature's cloudy eyes had lit upon the shape of something more interesting. A shrine, situated within the landscape, of roughly cylindrical composition, rising to a point upon which one could stand and observe their surroundings. From its rear projected a small arch, completing the simple asymmetry of the structure.
Of what..? The small building was weathered and crawling with mosses and vines, but the ancient magic situated around it had prevented any more intensive wearing. The creature approached it with caution, not quite remembering what the shrine was for, but drawn to its energy nevertheless.
The ancient humans...they must've communicated with us through these. Its mind couldn't grasp the original function, but it still held an understanding of the building, recognizing it for what it was. It reached one, crooked paw forth and rested it upon the inscribed surface of the shrine, where the energy was most intense. It was warm against the creature's infected skin, and it inspired it to hold its head a little higher. If these shrines still stood, free from the destruction of war, then perhaps more remained to remind it of its past.
Another lizard scuttled by. To the creature's surprise, this one had a silver tail that almost seemed to glow with an ethereal light. Curiosity caught, it stalked after the lizard as it latched onto the outer wall of the shrine and began to climb. This one, unlike its all-black cousins, seemed more wary of other beasts.
The creature circled the shrine, watching for the lizard to return closer to the ground. Eventually, it heard the patter of footsteps and saw the small reptile crawl out from the arch of the shrine, moving closer to the ground. With a grunt, the creature launched itself at the shrine, paws reaching. The lizard squeaked and bolted, dodging the strike. The creature managed to change its course of attack just in time, paw slamming down on the lizard's back. It cut off the panicked squeaks by clamping its jaws around the lizard's head, crushing its skull.
Ah...Feeling a little more satisfied with the outcome of this hunt, the creature crouched down, taking the lizard's body in its forepaws. Without much ceremony, it consumed the entire reptile, bones, scales, and all. The silvery tail was especially delicious, faintly reminding the creature of some exotic meat it had consumed in the Higher Lands, the leg of some long-lost magical beast.
Courage renewed, it set out once more towards the northern cliffs, moving at a steady but stumbling pace. It moved once again into the shadows of the stone, following a winding path through the cliffs, past the yawning entrance of a cave. To its delight, just north of that point there was another shrine, looking identical to the last. It spent a moment in the energy of the shrine, eyes lidded and face turning towards the inscribed surface, like a cat basking in a sunbeam. But time was not to be wasted, and it soon moved on, into a narrow passage between the rising cliffs.
The path was not long, and soon the land began to open up again, sunlight filtering down to the earth. The stone walls peeled away, and a green expanse of land opened up, rolling plains broken by stones and short cliffs, the almost unreal landscape fading away into the distance. The creature's eyes, as weak as they were, could not see the end of the landscape. Everything faded into a blur, into shadow, the farther away it got. But its eyes could see far enough to reveal the shape of the place it sought; the massive, rising structure of an ancient building, a building once grand and busy, but now crumbling and quiet. The Shrine, the one Shrine in which it had spent many of its days. Though how it had spent those days, it remembered not.
It almost had the shape of a sharp mountain, spires and plunging cliffs, worn and weathered by time. The creature's eyes couldn't see the details of the place, but it could easily imagine the vines and moss that crawled upon it. It was outlined powerfully against the glowing sky, and even as it watched, and eagle cried and soared across its silhouette, wings spread wide on the wind.
The creature quickened its lumbering pace, destination now in its sights. Excitement coursed through its body, a spark of hope at what may lie within. Answers, perhaps. A safe place to rest, hopefully. And to find out what had happened to Dormin, and with him the creature's many powers…
It crossed the expanse of green grass, wind sweeping after it. Two wide staircases led into the body of the Shrine, between them another of those inscribed tablets, this one radiating faint energy just like the others. The creature slowed its approach, wanting to pay the Shrine its proper respects. This was a holy place, a place of knowledge and wisdom. It would do no good to rush into it like a headstrong mule.
It placed its forepaw, claws dirty and crooked, on the first step. The sight of such ancient and beautiful stone set upon by the horrible appendage made the creature shrink, shoulders hunching. But there was nothing to be done about its horrendous appearance, so it continued upwards.
The staircase was topped by a grand arch, of which there were many, making up the front face of the Shrine. The stairs sloped into a ramp, which blended into the great hall of the Shrine. Here, between the pairs of pointed arches, there was a wide altar, empty even of dust. The room stretched away down the hall, lined by alcloves, eight on each side. The creature had been counting them, trying to remember if their number had changed, when a completely unexpected sound reached its muffled ears.
The footfalls of some being, much heavier than that of a lizard.
The creature, crouched at the top of the ramp, froze fearfully, head whipping around to face the length of the great hall. At first, it thought it was seeing a ghost, but as its eyes adjusted to the dark, it came to see that it was faced by none other than a human woman, clothed in a long-sleeved, lilac dress with green and darker purple details. She stared at the hideous creature crouched in front of her, dark eyes wide with shock. The creature stared back through clouded eyes, finding itself frozen in place. The woman moved first, lifting the previously-unseen bow in her hand and drawing the arrow back to her cheek.
"Don't shoot!" the creature cried, throwing its forepaws into the air. It's voice, rough and lacking any sort of gendered sound, grated painfully in its throat, like it was swallowing sand. It shook fearfully, unable to keep its arms up above its head. Slowly, it lowered them, crooked fingers feeling over the rough contours of its face; its protruding cheekbones, hollowed eyes, and short snout full of craggly, yellowed teeth.
"I know I'm hideous," it whispered painfully. The woman had not moved, her bow still drawn and aimed to kill. The creature shrank beneath the iron in her gaze.
"Who are you," she demanded curtly, not lowering her bow.
"I-" words failed the creature. "I...I don't know. I don't remember."
"You don't remember?" the woman's words were still harsh, but there was a bit of softness to them. Of sympathy.
"I don't remember," the creature repeated, chest tight with desperation. In its current state, with its powers gone from its body, a single shot of that drawn bow would be enough to kill it, to put it out of its misery. Without answers, without certainty that the world was safe from the plague of Dormin.
"Please," it repeated, almost begging, "I'm not here to hurt you. I did not know you were here...I did not know anyone was here. I expected this place to be abandoned."
The woman cautiously lowered her bow, somewhat convinced by the pleading in the creature's words. The emaciated beast was of no threat, as weak as it appeared, despite its frame indicating that it was much larger than a human in size.
"I only remember my last moments," the creature repeated. "There was a war...I was fighting in the war. I was struck down and stripped of my powers. But something happened, something that prevented my final death. I know not what. And I remember no more, until this moment I have awoken. Two thousand years have passed, if not more."
There was silence for a moment. Then, the woman asked, "Are you a god?"
"I-" the creature opened its mouth again, and paused, mulling over the term. It would have denied the title, but humans and other beings used different words for the same things. So it responded, "I reckon that I am."
The woman regarded it with caution. "Who stripped you of your powers? No mortal could wound a god in such a way."
"It was another," the creature replied, shuddering. "His name was Dormin."
Terrible familiarity flitted across the woman's face, and she took a step back. The creature shrank further, fearing that the bow would be drawn against it with the speaking of that name, so intense the response created. But the woman did not lift her bow; instead, her face concentrated, trying to piece something together with knowledge the creature lacked.
Oh, if only I had my powers, I could peer into her thoughts! The creature lamented. The silence stretched out, making its ears feel even more muffled.
"I spoke with someone named Dormin," the woman finally said, gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. "He told me he was fulfilling a promise. He...he sounded like he had been through a struggle. And I...woke up. Here."
"Here?" the creature repeated, voice confused. "Where had you been before?"
The woman took a long time to answer. Then, she said, "I had been dead."
The creature recoiled, neck scrunching into its shoulders. Brought back from the dead; that could only be Dormin's work, he the only one who would go against such sacred and long-standing natural law. He who they had gone to war against because of his decision to do so…
Another faint, foggy memory came to the front of its mind. The reason for the war, for all the fighting and cataclysm. Dormin had broken the most respected law of this world and all others, doing so in secret until he was exposed. Using it for his own advantage. Such a crime could not go unpunished.
Anger flew through its chest. For a fleeting moment, it considered pouncing upon the woman and slaying her, to return things to their natural order. But urge passed faster than it came, for it was of no fault of the woman's. The dead did not barter their way back to life; the living did that on their behalf. There must have been someone else involved.
"Are you alone here?" the creature asked. Someone must have brought her here. To Dormin…
That begged the question: what had happened to Dormin?
The woman shook her head. Slowly, carefully, she reached over her shoulder with her free hand. She grasped the cloth of the sash crossing her body, and brought the bundle upon her back across her shoulder. Swaddled in the cloth was a sleeping human infant, though this one was unlike any infant the creature had encountered before, because it had horns.
The creature cocked its head, confused. A horned human? It did not repulse it; it had encountered far more hideous beings in its lifetime, and given its current state, it had no right to show disgust towards any other beings.
"Where...did you find him?" it asked after a moment, voice shocked.
"In the basin, beneath the spiral stairs," she replied, gesturing behind her to where the hallway ended. "My- a horse led me to him."
"A horse?" the creature questioned. "A...normal horse?"
The woman nodded. "She is upstairs, in the garden atop this place. She was grievously injured, though by what I can only imagine."
"The horse who brought you here, to this place" the creature said. "But of the rider?"
The woman looked downcast, shoulders slumped. "There is no sign."
The creature was silent, looking away from the saddened woman. Eyes cast across the hall's alcoves, each one full of an irregular pile of stone and dirt. There were patterns carved on the stones…
"What do you know of this place?" the creature asked, voice hushed.
"It is forbidden," the woman replied. "None can step foot here. Under the pain of death."
Forbidden. A forbidden land. The land once of the creature's people, the only place on the mortal earth where they could walk. Humans, who long ago had inhabited it, had forbade themselves from here.
"Why?" the creature asked.
The woman shrugged. "I don't know."
The creature's eyes turned back towards the horned infant. It radiated faint, strange energy, something that made it seem not quite...normal. Beyond just the horns, it seemed unhuman.
"I must look around," it said finally, knowing no more was to be gained here. "Dormin...if he is roaming these lands, then shadows are upon us. But I do not see how that could be, since surely he would have sensed my existence, and come to cut me down in my weakened state. But I can't fathom what else could have happened to him…"
It approached the first alcove, eyes upon the pile of decrepit rocks. Nothing to see but rocks…
It reached one forepaw out, towards a piece that somewhat resembled an eye. It looked like...its eye.
Its claws contacted the surface, and a faint pulse of energy radiated through its body. Its eyes widened, and it became acutely aware of some point in the distance, atop a short cliff visible from the steps of the Shrine. The energy felt warm and familiar.
It is my energy! The creature realized with a start. I am feeling...a piece of my soul!
It recoiled from the stone in shock, mouth hanging open. With haste, it scuttled to the next alcove, and the next, setting its paws on the broken stones. With each one, a new pulse of energy manifested itself on the horizon, a precise location at which a piece of her soul, containing her lost powers, was located. When she reached the sixteenth alcove, she gazed upon the most undamaged stones, and their original form was revealed in her mind. Idols, sixteen idols, each one a different form, lining the great hall. As she placed her paws on the last stone, she felt the brightest pulse of energy of them all, a pulse that could only belong to the heart of her soul, the piece of her that granted her some kind of immortality.
My powers...they are all here, within this land. Had Dormin scattered them about, locked away? But why? In possession of the pieces of her soul, he would have become even more powerful. He would never have given up those powers willingly, nor would he have any good reason to lock them away. Something must have happened.
Whatever had occured that had saved the creature's life, so long ago, must have scattered the pieces of her soul across this land.
But then, why the idols? Why did those pieces of her soul feel so...connected to them?
Someone had brought a dead woman to this land, to bargain with Dormin to bring her back to life. So Dormin must have yet been living, strong enough to be accessible to a mortal. But something must have trapped him here, keeping him within these lands. Otherwise, he would have ran rampant across the known world. Something must have defeated him, but unable to kill him, trapped him away.
Fractured into sixteen parts, for sixteen idols. His soul split into small enough pieces, Dormin would've been rendered near to powerless. Sixteen pieces would be enough to trap and render any entity, though more would have been preferred. Whoever had done so to Dormin had either been uneducated, or unable to gather the energy to split him any more.
"What is it?" the woman asked. In its discoveries, the creature had begun to ignore the mortal, entranced as it was by the rows of alcoves. It started, remembering her existence, and turned around quickly. "It is my soul, or rather the pieces of it. They are scattered around this land; I can feel their presence when I touch the remains of these idols." It kicked one of the loose stones with a foot. "Dormin was trapped in this place, his soul split into sixteen pieces once represented by these idols. And now, they are broken...and he is gone."
"You mean he...escaped?" the woman asked, worry creeping into her voice.
The creature shook its head. "He could not have, otherwise I would not be standing here, and things would be much different. Something...he must have encountered some obstacle. He would have been weaker, just recently having reunited his fragments. Though what could've stopped him, I do not know…"
"And what of this child?" the woman asked, holding out the infant in her arms. "What is he?"
The creature shrugged helplessly. "The knowledge to explain such an anomaly escapes me."
They stood in silence, the creature's head bowed. After some time had passed, the woman looked back to the pathetic being. "Here, you should come to the garden and rest. I can provide you with something to eat."
The creature lifted its head exhaustedly, unable to drum up the energy to inform the woman that mortal food would be of no use to it. She strode away, and it followed like an obedient dog.
They entered the room at the end of the great hall, spiral staircase soaring above them. The basin upon the floor was empty; the creature felt a spark of recognition, a faint picture fleeting through her mind. The basin, once full, with many ancient beings gathered around it. Including it. Including Dormin.
The memory was gone as fast as it had came. The creature ascended the spiral staircase no more enlightened as it had been at the bottom. The stair ended in a projecting path, receding towards a sunlit exit. They stepped out of the Shrine, upon the end of a crumbling bridge that once soared over the landscape, stretching just beyond the creature's vision to where the high cliffs were. Another memory came back to it, another fleeting picture. Humans, on horses, riding across the bridge, carrying ceremonial banners, trumpets sounding. An ancient lord, come again to this land to confer with its inhabitants.
"The bridge is gone," it gasped. The bridge had been the only way in and out of this land on foot; the cliffs were far too steep and high to climb. One could navigate to the southern coast by boat, but the waters were treacherous and said to be filled with monsters.
Realization hit the creature. It was trapped here, as was the woman and her horned child. Despite the situation, the latter seemed quite calm.
What a level-headed mortal she must be, the creature wondered. To be brought back from the dead, alone save for a horned infant. And trapped in an unknown land, but yet continues in such a collected manner.
Its eyes, though foggy, could tell that the woman had made her bow by herself, the few arrows she had too. It must have been a few days, then, since she had awoken.
There was a path to their right, leading up and around the edge of the Shrine. The woman climbed it confidently, the infant slung again over her back. The creature followed, absorbed in thought and trying to remember more of its moments within the halls below them. Once they reached the garden, however, its attention was redirected.
Oh, what a beautiful place! There were many trees here, lush with growth. Bushes and grasses dotted the landscape, which, despite its enclosed state, seemed quite sizable. Birds flitted around in the trees, white doves. They flew in and out of the rooftop garden unfettered, able to leave to the open sky whenever they pleased. A chipmunk ran past, grass waving in its passage.
There are even deer! Memories of the taste of venison from a golden-antlered buck echoed in the creature's mind. These fawns, though, were of no mystical background. They ran through the trees, chasing each other merrily.
A curious neigh sounded through the garden, and a large, black mare came limping towards them, heavily favoring her left hind leg, which she refused to put weight on. Despite her injuries, she seemed bright and alert, ears perked forwards.
"Hello, Agro," the woman greeted the horse, patting its nose. The mare nickered, ears flicking around. She watched the creature carefully, but seemed unafraid of it. The beast had obviously seen other things much worse in her past.
"Her leg…" the creature had noticed the grievous injury. "That looks to be a horrific injury."
"I tried setting it," the woman told her, crouching down next to the mare's injured leg. The creature noticed the branches and bindings around it, a crude cast. "But I'm no healer, and her injury indeed seems bad."
"She has the gaze of only the bravest of beasts," the creature said. "Whoever was her master, she served them faithfully. What trials they must have gone through to free Dormin, I cannot imagine."
"Were the pieces of his soul not trapped in those idols?" the woman asked. "What do you mean by trials?"
The creature shook its head. "Simply destroying the idols would be too easy. There would have been tasks, trials, that must have been completed. Tasks designed, at their birth, to be impossible." She took a shaky breath. "Dormin was cunning with his words. Even the impossible he could make seem not so…someone so desperate as to risk death to come here would have been willing to take the terms he set, no matter their cost. And the cost he would surely have lied about."
The woman had moved away a little, still within earshot next to the length of a fallen tree. She lifted a fleshy fruit from behind the log and struck it against the bark. The fruit split down the middle, and she returned to the creature, offering it a half.
"These are from the garden," she said. "I had a little time to explore the land around this temple as well, and I gathered some different fruits from outside, if those would be more to your taste…"
The creature did not think the origin of the fruits would matter, as mortal as they were. It took the half in its paws, trying to be delicate as it took a bite of the flesh. It was sour and almost repulsive, so much so it couldn't avoid making a face.
"Is it not good?" the woman asked.
The creature, not wanting to seem rude, shook its head. "No, it is fine…"
The woman took a bite of her own half. "I find it quite good…"
The creature lifted the fruit to try it again, and then put it down with a sigh. "It is horribly sour to me. I am sorry."
"Of no worry," the woman replied, taking back the half and standing up. "It does not seem to spoil, as long as it is free of dirt. And I have some of the other fruits, like I said."
She produced one of these other fruits, large and greener in color. As soon as she split it upon the log, a sweet smell drifted to the creature's nose, and it leaned forwards in anticipation.
The woman noticed the creature's movements, and perhaps smiled a little, though one could not tell with how her long hair blew around her face. She handed the creature the two halves of the fruit; the smell was so enticing to the beast that it could barely make itself eat in a proper manner.
This...this cannot be mortal fruit. I can feel its energy flowing through my veins. Did we, some long time ago, drop holy seeds onto this land, so the humans may have a little of higher food?
"This is very good," it said, not wanting to forget its manners. The woman had sat down on the log, watching it eat.
"You don't remember your name, do you?" she asked quietly.
The creature shut its eyes, shaking its head. "I don't."
The woman was silent for a moment, looking away. Then, she said, "My name is Mono."
The creature chewed its food thoughtfully. "That is a pretty name. I like it." It knew not what else to say.
"You need a name," Mono continued. "Perhaps it will help you remember your old identity, to construct a new one…"
The creature nodded slowly, consuming the last of the delicious fruit. It felt sated, and the aching was leaving its bones.
"I know not what to call myself," it admitted. "What is there to signify me? I am ratted, mangled. I am without my weapon, my armor. I am without my wings and my powers. Where once I was a being of earth and sky, I am now nothing."
"You said you liked my name," Mono told her. "That is something."
"It would be a dishonor upon you to give myself your name," the creature replied. "You are far above my current status."
"Make something else out of it," Mono said, unworried and calm. "Something that is singular to you."
The creature was silent, head bowed. "I do not know, my lady."
"Monolith," Mono said to it, voice confident. "That will be your new name."
The creature lifted its head. "Monolith," it echoed. "I guess it is suitable. I will accept your generous suggestion," it lied. It felt empty, worthless. Worthless things didn't have names.
Mono stood, done with her meal. "Where does the first piece of your soul lie, Monolith? Night never falls here, so there is no light to waste, but I see no reason in delaying your quest."
The creature nodded slowly. "There are pieces close to this Shrine. The first of the idols points me directly south of here, only a few minutes' walk."
"What do you think we will encounter, where the piece of your soul lies?" Mono asked.
The creature shrugged. "I could not know. But if my soul was trapped with the pieces of Dormin, then I fear I may face similar trials in getting them back...but we shall see." It squared its shoulders. "There is no gain to be found in idleness."
They exited the garden, leaving behind the injured horse, the fawns, the chipmunks, and the doves. A few of the birds flew past them as they descending the pathway into the Shrine, calling to each other in pure voices. The creature heard the horned infant babble behind her. He was reaching for the birds with a chubby hand.
At least the child is calm, and seems free of distress. His place in the puzzle had not yet been found, but something in the creature's chest was convinced it could find an answer to it all.
Mono was quiet, following the creature as it descended the ramp and the staircase leading out of the Shrine. She observed the landscape with quiet grace, a gaze slowly becoming familiar with these surroundings.
"It is this way," the creature said, pointing her nose towards the cliffs directly to their south. "It is very close, for the signal is strong."
It lead the way, wishing to move a little faster but not wanting to leave Mono behind. Furthermore, it did not know if it could sustain anything beyond a slow trot, as weak as it was.
The cliffs rose above them, and the creature's eyes found what looked like ruins at their base. It stopped once it ascended the worn staircase, sniffing the air.
"Is this where your soul is?" Mono asked, sounding unsure.
It shook its head. "No, it is above us. We must climb these cliffs to get to it."
Mono looked hesitant, but the emotion was brief. Her face was determined as she surveyed their surroundings; after just a moment, she left the creature's side and grasped onto the thick vines that hung down from the wall to their right. Without a word, she started to climb.
Well, alright. The creature was admittedly a little shocked; it had not expected the mortal woman to be so willing to climb the cliff, with or without the infant on her back. With no other choice, the creature pushed itself up to follow.
The vines led up to a rough path, broken in places. Mono was facing the first jump, a ways along the path, gauging its distance. She squared her shoulders and took a running start, soaring over the gap and landing with a stumble.
"I am not sure if this is a good idea for you, my lady…" The creature cautioned, but drifted off as Mono flashed her a steely gaze. The woman was determined to make it to the top of the cliff. Without another look back, she jumped and grabbed the edge of the path above them, pulling herself up with a grunt. The horn child on her back was staring with creepy eyes.
There was another jump, which they made, and a fallen pillar, which they had to ungainly crawl under. The creature's emaciated shoulders scraped painfully against the stone surface, but it gritted its crooked teeth and kept crawling. If a mortal woman, burdened by an infant, could do this, then so could it. Mono was holding the child in her arms as she crawled, unworried about the dirt she got on her dress. She stood up and jumped again, pulling herself higher into the ruins.
A heavy, square column stood in their way, the path continuing beyond it.
"My lady," the creature repeated, catching up to the mortal woman as it ungainly pulled itself up the cliff. "Please, allow me to go first. I can help you across."
Mono hesitated, but then stood aside, allowing the mangy creature to step up to the spire. It bent its legs and jumped onto the face of the stone, hands and feet grasping at the carved ledge that ran around its surface. It edged around the first corner of the column, then the second, teeth gritted in resistance to the strain on its fingers.
The path upwards was behind it now, too far to step to. It would have to jump.
It planted its feet against the vertical surface, bending its knees. With a great heave, it pushed off of the column, twisting as its hands reached for the edge of the path. It landed beyond the edge, safely on solid ground.
It turned. Mono was already on the column, shuffling around the outer edge. Her face was contorted with strain, and she could move at only a crawl.
"My lady," the creature said worriedly, reaching its hands out. "I can assist you."
Mono was looking away from her, at the stone surface of the column. She edged into position painfully slow, bare feet splayed against the stone. Her gaze flashed over her shoulder, gauging the distance to the path.
The creature could clearly see that the mortal woman was afraid. She needed to turn fully, to remove a hand from the stone, in order to make the jump. But she would not, in her fear, which had now chosen to overcome her.
I cannot let her fall! it laid flat against the ground, shoulders beyond the edge of the path. Its arms were outstretched, reaching across the gap towards the woman. "My lady, I will catch you."
Mono still didn't move; the creature could hear her harsh breathing. If she waited any longer, she would lose her grip and fall.
"My lady!" it repeated, urgent this time.
With a bit of scream, Mono jumped off the column, half-twisting to try and orient herself towards the path. The creature grabbed her arms, fingers locking around her biceps. With a great heave, it pulled itself backwards, dragging the woman onto the path with it. It quickly let go of her, drawing itself into a small and apologetic ball.
"I am sorry I had to touch you, my lady," it whispered quietly. "But I did not want you to fall."
"It is fine," Mono replied, pushing herself somewhat shakily to her feet. "We must keep moving."
They had reached the top of the ruins, an expanse of grass opening up in front of them. A few trees lined the edges, but most of the space was open, save for a large shape in the center of the field, to which the creature felt itself drawn.
"It is there," it gasped, loping past the trees and towards the shape. "I can feel it."
It left Mono behind, loping faster than the woman could walk, and she chose not to run. The creature reached the edge of the massive mound and skidded to a stop, struck by the size of the object.
"And what is this?" it mused, eyes wide. It reached a hand forth and wiped the dust from a stone surface it could see protruding from the mound.
Upon contact with the stone, the creature felt a pulse of energy echo through its body. The piece of its soul was within the mound, along with many others.
The others who from which Dormin stole powers! It bowed its head mournfully. So there had been other beings, like it, who had suffered its fate. And they Dormin had slain.
There is more...there were other fragments of souls, ones who it felt no patriotism towards. They were souls that belonged to its enemies.
Souls that I stole from them, before I too, brought them to death. So it had not been above the atrocious actions of soul-stealing. But they were the souls of sworn enemies, so no one was the wiser.
Mono had caught up to the creature, standing with it in the shadow of the mound. "What is it?" she asked, eyes sweeping over the tangle of earth and stone.
"A container," the creature replied. "A container for trapping souls."
"And how will you get them out?" Mono asked.
The creature swept more dirt from the stone surface. It revealed beneath an empty eye, matching the broken eye of the idol in the Shrine.
"The souls within can only be released once the beast is slain," it said quietly, lost in thought.
"It looks as if it was already slain," Mono sounded confused. "You cannot kill a mound of earth."
"These were once alive, powered by the fragments of Dormin's soul and ancient magic," it said, eyes shut. It was looking within the stone, reading its stories. "And it was slain by the one who wished to revive you. In doing so, Dormin's soul was released, piece by piece. The fragments of his soul, though broken, were strong enough to extract themselves from their vessel and transmit into another being."
"And your soul was not released?" the woman asked. "Why?"
It dipped its head. "Dormin's soul is strong. It was able to seal the vessels behind it in a cloak of shadow, and prevent anything else from escaping, if anything could. Even my soul may not have been able."
"And so what can be done?" Mono pressed. "Can you not free your soul from this corpse?"
It shook its head. "This is ancient magic, strong and true. It will protect all it holds, and in this form, it is not accessible to this world. I must bring this beast back to life, and slay it by my own hand. Then, I will be able to call my soul forth from its hide."
Mono was silent, pondering the situation. Despite its gravity, she seemed composed.
"You must have a weapon capable of slaying such a monster," she finally said. "You cannot break open stone with your bare hands."
"If I had my sword," the creature groaned, hunching its shoulders. "With that blade, I struck down enemies like they were made of paper. I cut the hearts of higher beings from their bodies, and with them nourished my strength. It would make quick work of these monsters."
"There are many things hidden around this land," Mono told her. "I made my bow from the branches of young trees, and the sinews of the salamanders. There are reeds for lashings, and stones for arrowheads."
"I cannot fight a colossus with just a bow," it replied. "I must have something stronger in my grasp...but I believe I know how to create such a thing, in the absence of my blade."
"And where do we have to go to find the ingredients for such a thing?" the woman asked.
It turned away from the earthen mound and its stony eye. "There are many ruins across this land, relics of their ancient inhabitants. I know of one where we may find something strong enough to pierce the colossi's hides. But it is a distance to walk, my lady."
"Of no matter," Mono replied stoically. "I am able."
The creature dipped its head respectfully, knowing it could not convince the mortal otherwise. It led the way back to the cliffside ruins, picking down them with the greatest care. One or twice, it offered its assistance to the woman, but she always refused unless it was direly needed, preferring to navigate the terrain on her own.
Once back below the looming cliff, the ragged creature leg the mortal woman to the east, where the great cleft in the cliff that it had first entered through existed. The wind whistled briskly through the gap, whisking bits of dust into the sky.
"Have you been this way, my lady?" the creature asked Mono, head lowered submissively.
"No," she replied, eyes darting about. "I feared getting lost within the great walls of stone."
"I have not forgotten the lay of these lands," the creature promised. "We will not get lost, my lady."
Eventually, the ravine widened before them, revealing more expanses of high, grey cliffs and whitish skies. Their grassy path split around the mound that rose beyond them, wreathed in faint mist. Proud, rocky spires jutted from the landscape, giving it an uneven and wild appearance.
"There lies a cave," the creature said, pushing its nose forwards. "Through it lies a miniature paradise, a secluded retreat decorated by lavish growth and ancient architecture. Its name is forgotten in my mind, but it was once a place of relaxation for my kind. And at the center of this place, there lies a great building, an amphitheater of sorts. What it was used for, I cannot remember, but it was a grand place where many could gather."
"Does it contain an armory?" Mono questioned. "It does not seem like the kind of place that would."
The creature shook its mangy head. "No corner of this land contains an armory. Our weapons were as much of a part of us as your hands are to you."
It could see the cave entrance, a yawning mouth crawling with ivy and moss. Feeling encouraged, it picked up its pace, ambling across the plain. Its bones stood out sharply under its decrepit skin, every rolling motion of joints visible. It seemed more like a toy made of sticks and leather than a living being.
The travellers entered into the cave, the light of the glowing clouds quickly falling away. The creature's eyes could not pierce the dark, but it knew the way, following the curves and the contours of the stone until it opened up yet again. Indeed, what lay before them was a small paradise, draped in thick mosses and stone. They stood on an elevated path, above a crystal pool into which a glorious waterfall fell. The thundering sound of the water was muffled in the creature's ears, as if hearing it through layers of cotton.
"The path down to the pool is gone…" it observed sadly. "One can no longer recede into those relaxing depths."
Broken pillars lined the path, which zigged and zagged in the most random fashion. Mono frowned upon seeing it.
"Is this a bridge your people built?" she asked. "What sense is there, in building a crooked bridge?"
The creature shrugged helplessly. "I cannot recall, my lady, if this is indeed a bridge, or a natural spit of land. And it is so worn and overgrown, its past self has been lost."
They continued over the bridge, the mortal woman absorbed in the sights of the miniature paradise, now so unkempt, but still awe-inspiring. The path led them through another, shorter cave, and before them lay the high-roofed cavern, in which the ruins lay. Sunlight pierced through holes in the natural roof, the beams scattering across the worn stones like spots of fire.
The ruin itself looked sunken into the ground, sitting on an island surrounded by water. Vines crawled its lengths, over the ornately-carved stone. The creature paced to the edge of the shore, knowing where it could find the entrance to the place.
It looked back at the mortal woman. "Can you swim, my lady? The water is deep in places."
Mono looked hesitant, once again. "I was never taught…"
"Please, then, wait here," the creature proposed. "The crossing is narrow, but you are burdened by an infant."
The woman nodded, moving to take a seat on the shore. "He will be hungry soon, anyways. I will stay here and await your return."
The creature nodded submissively and turned away, trotting into the water. It winced as the cold washed over its infected skin, the feeling unusually sharp. It paddled its paws, barely able to keep its head above the surface to breathe. When it pulled itself onto the small island halfway across the channel, it shook itself almost irritably, the feeling of the water bothering it.
I was never a fan of the surf and the waves, it grumbled. And now, I cannot even handle a stagnant pool!
It crossed the remaining distance, pulling itself onto the island on which the ruin stood, quietly waiting. It strode over to the yawning entrance, firelight flickering from within.
There are pieces missing. Ruins. As if this place was shaken by a great storm. Steps led deeper into the structure, walls containing braziers with everlasting flames. Even after thousands of years, the magic that had run through this place was still here. There was a hole in the roof on the left, letting light spill through.
The creature continued deeper into the structure, where the light faded away. The stairs ended in a small room with no obvious exit.
The ramp has fallen away, the creature realized, observed the sole surviving pillar, which had once flanked the path onwards. It walked to the pillar and reared up, grasping one of the carved edges that ran around it. With a hop, it ascended the pillar, reaching as high as it could go, where the structure narrowed to a large brazier, full of warming fire. The flickering flames filled the creature with courage, and it hopped from the pillar onto the remnants of the higher path.
It followed the path onwards, down another set of darkened stairs, and into the great amphitheater itself. The round room spun away on either side of it, repeated sets of barred windows scrolling away. Great chunks were missing from some of the floors, as if a giant had swung its fists through them. The floor of the amphitheater was far below, each floor stacked on the next like the layers of a cake.
The creature walked to the closest window, observing the far drop to the grassy floor. In the center of that place, there was another great lump of earth and stone, calling to the creature. Another piece of its soul lay here. It knew that stairs led between each level, including the lowest, reaching the open floor. It could reach that earthen corpse, but that was not what it had came here for.
It pad around the floor, to where the great chunk had been carved away. The break had shattered through some of the windows, and the metal bars lining them had been broken, revealing sharp ends.
There were broken windows on every level, with more of the sharpened bars. If the creature could manage to pull them free of the stone masonry, and lash them to stout branches with strong vines…
It was the crudest and most ramshackle of all weapons. But metal was stronger and sharper than stone, and this was the best place it could think of to find sharp metal.
The broken bars were hanging over the broken abyss. The creature crawled to the nearest edge, reaching carefully to see if it could grasp one of the bars. It could, and it wrapped its paw around the surface resolutely. The bar was already crooked in its base from the great force that had shattered it, and with a stiff tug, it moved a little in its housing. The creature ground its teeth together and continued to pull, until it had removed the whole length from the stone, pieces breaking away.
It weighed the bar in its paws, admiring its broken length. The builders of this place had fired these bars with strong metals; whatever had broken them had been of monumental power. The tips were jagged from shearing off, by no means skillfully done, but they were sharp.
I must gather all I can from here. Such crude weapons would break easily, when wielded against stone giants. But it was the only way to answers, and redemption.
The creature reached for another bar, but it was too far from the edge. Disgruntled, it continued around the round floor, exhausting it of all its resources. It moved on to the next, and the next, piling its cache of broken bars at the base of each stairwell, ready to carry back up, until it reached the floor.
Its eyes were drawn to the mound of earth, and, despite itself, it moved onto the grassy stretch to observe it closer. The mound was much smaller than the last, but still of respectable size. Bits of stone stuck out at odd angles, the remains of legs and feet. The dead beast appeared to be on its back.
I cannot linger. The piece of its soul was pulling strongly, longing to be freed. But there were no branches down here with which to make the crude spears, and the creature could not hold the bars in its hands, the metal too slippery in its thin fingers.
I will return for you, it promised the piece, though it could not hear or understand. With a heavy heart, it returned to the stairwells and began to haul its cache back to the top, bit by bit.
I can return here, once I have more strength. There were still plenty of broken bars in the ruin, too far for the creature to reach. Once it was more sure of its agility and resilience, it could pull those bars from their foundations with the weight of its body, and catch the next ledge in its fall.
Its pile of bars was becoming too big to carry neatly. It held as many as it could in its mouth, but there were yet more, and it shuffled awkwardly on three legs, with the rest tucked under its arm. Once it reached the top of the ruin, facing the staircase out, it dropped them with a snort.
Blasted cargo, it grumbled. It could try to carry them in its arms, walking as it should on its hind feet, but it hesitated to do so. Had it the strength?
It gathered the bundle of bars in its arms, crouched on the stone floor. As it stood, it felt its joints popping and complaining. Its back hunched, unwilling to be drawn upright. But the going was faster as it shuffled up the stairs, ignoring the soreness in its muscles.
The more I work my sore bones, the more resilient they will become, once they remember their old ways. The creature felt determination in its heart. Pathetic it would be to be beaten by the task of carrying an armful of metal bars...
It reached the top of the stairs, overlooking the room with the fancy brazier. It slid somewhat ungracefully over the edge of the platform and dropped to the floor with a grunt.
When it finally emerged back into the sunlight at the entrance of the building, it blinked against the glare. Its eyes adjusted slowly, almost painfully so, like mortal eyes. It shook its head with irritation and walked from the temple.
Mono was seated on the shore, holding the strange infant in her arms. She looked up as the creature approached, and replaced the baby into the carrier on her back.
"An interesting idea," she observed the metal bars held in the creature's arms as she stood up. "Though their edges are rough and jagged at best."
"I may be reduced, so that I am almost mortal, but I still possess echoes of my strength," the creature replied, suddenly aware of how much larger it was than the mortal woman. It towered over her; feeling self-conscious, it took a step back and hunched its shoulders.
"I can craft you a bow," Mono offered. "While you lash those bars to stout branches to make strong spears."
The creature nodded. "And...if it isn't a bother, I would enjoy more of that fruit that abounds these lands...and if I could catch another lizard…"
"I can show you the trees upon which those fruits grow," Mono told the creature. "You must be rested and prepared for this fight to come."
The creature nodded resolutely. "I am without the heart of my soul, my lady. Should I be struck down by a fatal blow, I will not rise again. But I cannot afford to be cowed. I would rather die in battle against a worthy opponent than continue to live as a shadow of my former self. I will fight this colossus, and those to come. And I will discover the truth to what has befallen these once-glorious lands."