A/N: Well, here I am, trekking back to the Forbidden Lands to rewrite the first story I ever posted on here. Let me fucking tell ya, folks, I look back on the original version of this story with shame. Pure, unfiltered shame. Not only did I botch nearly everything, the most egregious error I made was not doing this absolutely amazing game justice. Seriously, Shadow of the Colossus beats the everloving fuck out of every Zelda game that ever has and will ever be made, and did I prove that with the original version of this story? Hell fucking NO. So here I am, a few years older and a few years more experienced, to repent for my sins. Perhaps, to paraphrase Lord Emon, I will make atonement for what I've done. I hope you all enjoy once again.

Minor details changed in this chapter changed on Sept. 19, 2017.

In The Shadow of the Beasts Redux

By: Rylek196

Prologue: To the Ancient Land

This wasn't supposed to happen, a young man on horseback thought. None of it. It just should not have happened.

Of all the thoughts swirling in his brain, this was the most prevalent. The sense of... wrongness, about his whole situation. As he carefully manoeuvred the horse he rode- Agro, her name was, judging by the label above the stall he had stolen her from- along the treacherous path inside the canyon, one feeling stood out from the rest.

That feeling was rage. Pure, white-hot fury. Fury at what had happened, fury at what he had been forced to resort to, fury at them for taking her from him...

His dark thoughts abruptly paused as a hawk flew by his head, narrowly missing him. He adjusted the cloth-covered bundle attached to Agro's saddle, for it was the most precious cargo imaginable to him, then continued on. Perhaps, he thought, it would best to think about simple things. His name, for one. His name was Wander. That was a start.

He next thought of his appearance and apparel, though he knew neither mattered much in the grand scheme of things. He was wearing the standard uniform of his village's militia- a tan tunic with shorts of a slightly darker shade, tough leather greaves that covered his shins, and an ornate tabard worn over the tunic, which covered his chest and back and trailed down to slightly below his waist.

He once again stopped, but for a different reason. There was a slight gap in the path ahead, and making sure yet again his cargo was secure, he had Agro back up a bit, and jump it. He looked back at the gap and sneered, spiting the fact that it existed.

Moving on, he continued with his thoughts. Where was he? Ah, yes, his physical appearance. He had hair that was a cherry-red colour held back with a blue hairband, a plain, if pale, face, a very toned, muscular build, and grey-green eyes. Everyone knew that eyes were windows to a person's soul, and anyone who knew even a bit about psychology could tell that despite their nonthreatening colour, Wander's eyes were two boiling lakes of anger.

He had always been savage, even as a young boy, hunting animals and skinning them alive for the fun of it, and eighteen years of being alive had only honed his psychopathic nature. It was no wonder he was feared in the militia. His fellow archery cadets, as he himself was an archer, were wary of angering him, lest they bring his wrath down on their heads.

He had initially wanted to hone his skills with a sword, and become a soldier in the regular military, but he had been denied. Mastering a blade took a certain amount of discipline, and while Wander was incredibly bloodthirsty- something that was prized in the ranks- his insolence kept him from taking up the blade. Not that it stopped him from having one now. He was well aware of the consequences for what he had done, but he didn't care.

He turned a slightly upward-slanted bend in the path, one which afforded him a great view of the clouds illuminated by the full moon, and kept going.

It was several more hours of riding before he came to a marshy forest, the moonlight filtering through the treetops. Agro's hooves kicked up dead leaves as she trundled on. Wander wished he could go faster than a slow trot, but riding any faster risked dislodging his cargo. So, he was forced to keep going at a measured pace, his patience wearing ever thinner. It was just a good thing he knew where his destination was.

The forest eventually grew more and more narrow, coming to a head between two short, rock walls. By now it was dawn, and Wander could see his destination on the horizon. However, it had started to rain. Damn it! Wander mentally cursed. Of all the bloody things that had to happen, why this!?

To avoid the constant onslaught of falling water, he steered Agro under an overhang on the right rock wall. He had been riding all night, and was tired. Careful not to jostle his cargo, he slipped out of Agro's saddle, taking a seat on the ground, his back to the rock. Agro moved to lay down too, but was stopped by a growl from Wander. "You will not rest until I say you can," he said threateningly. "We'll continue on once I've had a nap- rain or no rain."

Agro snorted as Wander closed his eyes, falling into a light sleep. About half an hour later, Wander awoke, mounted Agro, and rode ever onward. The rain had by now lessened into a light drizzle. While annoying, it did not deter him as he rode across a plain, and soon enough, the rain stopped, leaving only puddles behind.

The day had progressed to an hour before noon when he finally came to his destination: a great stone wall. Obviously man-made, it was tall, with twenty-four pillars in rows of twelve on either side, though most of them on one side had fallen or been destroyed, leaving only sixteen standing. In the centre of the wall was a deep slit that ran the entire height of it. Just barely wide enough to allow horse and rider with his bundle passage through, Wander looked upon the place he had been trying to get to.

The Forbidden Lands. A vast, unknown and feared terrain, it was this landscape that Wander hoped held the power he needed to accomplish his task. The first thing he saw was the enormous bridge. Spanning from the cliffsides upon which Wander now stood to the massive tower-like structure he could see kilometres away, it was enough to make any architect commit ritual suicide out of shame. The grand white construction was held up by elegantly curved tresses, too many to count. Downwards they plunged, stabbing the ground at various points in the vast desert that Wander could see made up most of the north of the Forbidden Lands.

His heart pounding in his chest, Wander began to carefully guide Agro across the bridge. There were no guardrails, no safety feature in place along the sides; one wrong move meant death. Eventually, he made it to the massive tower- the Shrine of Worship. The entrance to the Shrine was a stone door, which slid ominously upward as he neared it. Agro whinnied and squirmed in agitation, Wander kicking her sides harshly to get her moving once again. "Let's go," he grumbled.

The opened door revealed a staircase leading down. At the bottom of the stairs, was a giant, cylindrical room, with a narrow, spiralling ramp serving as a path to the bottom. Yet again, it took some careful riding to get Agro to the bottom of the ramp, as it was obviously made only for people on foot, not horseback.

A pool of still water lay in the centre of the circular room, though Wander gave it only a passing glance. What he was seeking lay just beyond this room.

Going through one more arched entryway, he at last ventured into the giant main hall of the Shrine of Worship. A wide, long room, built of grey stone with a high, vaulted ceiling and an alter at the end, this was where the power he was seeking lay hidden. The most striking feature of this room, though, were the huge alcoves on either side of the hall. There were two rows of eight alcoves, each holding a massive, ornately carved statue.

Wander eyed each one in turn as he rode down to the end of the hall. Just looking at them gave him an odd feeling, like the statues were somehow not of this world, like something other than the hands of men had created them.

He reared Agro to a halt under a hole in the ceiling that let the light of the sun into the Shrine. He dismounted, taking a second to stretch his legs. He then reached up to Agro's saddle, unclipping the bundle where it had been attached. Taking the cargo into his arms, he walked up to the alter, placing it upon its surface.

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the cloth away, revealing his cargo to be the body of a young woman. She was clothed in a simple but elegant long-sleeved white dress, green and purple designs adorning it. He looked down at the corpse, the rage in his eyes growing more potent.

Once, this brown-haired maiden had a name, a life, and a purpose in his. Her name was Mono, the light- and love- of his life. She was the one that had somewhat tempered the wrath in his heart, showed him there was more to life than just killing and death and anger. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen for her.

And they took her from me, he thought. They fucking took her. Them and their absurd, damnable beliefs...

When she died, or rather, was murdered in cold blood, all her teachings to him had gone up in the fires of wrath. There was only one thing that mattered to him now: Bringing her back. At any cost. It didn't matter if he had to go down to the bowels of Hell itself to bring her soul back.

A memory came to him then. It was of him, and several other militia recruits, years ago, sitting around a fire, listening to their village's leader and prime shaman, Lord Emon, recite an esoteric monologue. He could practically hear the crackling of the fire and the smell of the smoke, the mental visual was so vivid.

"That place..." Emon had said, "Began with the resonance of intersecting points... They are memories replaced by ens and naught and etched into stone. Blood, young sprouts, sky- and the one with the ability to control beings created from light... In that world, it is said that if one should wish it one can bring back the souls of the dead... ...But to trespass upon that land is strictly forbidden."

Wander had never forgotten that speech. It remained one of his clearest memories, though he had no idea why.

Unknown to Wander due to his recollections, something was happening in the hall behind him. With disgusting yet quiet slurping sounds, several humanoid beings made of shadow were emerging from the floor. He was only alerted when Agro neighed in fear.

Turning around, he saw the shadow beings. "What is this!?" he yelled, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I swear, if any of you... creatures wish further harm on me, I'll cut you all down!"

With that, he ripped the blade from its sheath. The sword he carried was no ordinary piece of sharpened metal- it was a sacred artifact to a long-dead people. The Ancient Sword. Forged by unknown hands in elder days, it was nicknamed 'The Magic Killer' due to its rumoured ability to destroy any magical spell, object, or being, simply by stabbing it.

Its next ability, Wander then demonstrated as he thrust the blade forward into open air. A beam of light surged forth from the blade, washing away the shadow beings like the tide does to a sandcastle. That was the Ancient Sword's other power- the ability to lead the user to any magical artifact simply by holding it up to the light.

Suddenly, there was a noise like the rumbling of thunder, and a deep, guttural voice boomed throughout the Shrine. "Hmm? Thou possesses the Ancient Sword? So thou art mortal..."

Wander at first was taken aback, then he remembered what the restricted texts he had read about the Forbidden Land had said.

"Are you Dormin?" he asked. "I was told that in this place at the ends of the world, there existed a being who can control the souls of the dead." He sheathed his sword, hearing no threat from the voice.

The cloth that had once concealed Mono's corpse blew away as Dormin replied. "Thou art correct... we are the one known as Dormin..."

Wander gestured at Mono. His voice turned grim, shaking with barely contained rage. "Sh-she was... sacrificed, for it was told to me she had a cursed fate. I refuse to believe it. Please... I need you to bring back her soul..."

The voice of Dormin seemed to snicker, an action that made Wander's blood reach boiling point. "Heh heh heh hah-ha... That maiden's soul? Souls that are lost cannot be reclaimed... Is that not the law of mortals?"

His anger at hearing that sentence from his last hope finally made Wander snap. "I don't care if it's the law of mortals or not!" he yelled, furious tears forming in his eyes. "She was taken from me, and I want her back! Give her back to me!"

"Thou art a wrathful mortal..." Dormin said. "We sense much anger in thy heart... Still, calm thyself... We did not say bringing her soul back was not possible..."

Wander's anger evaporated in a heartbeat, replaced by desperate, almost insane hope. "Really!?" he cried. "How!? Tell me how!"

"The sword that thou carries is the key..." Dormin explained. "We can bring her back... that is, of course, if thou manages to accomplish what we askest..."

"What do I have to do?" Wander asked, the spot of hope in his chest growing ever larger.

"Behold the idols that stand along these walls..." Dormin said. "Thou art to destroy all of them. But those idols cannot be destroyed- not by the mere hands of a mortal..."

"Then what am I to do?" Wander asked.

"In this land, there exists Colossi that are the incarnations of those idols," Dormin told him. "If thou defeat those Colossi... the idols shall fall."

"I understand," Wander said firmly.

"But heed this, the price you pay may be heavy indeed." Dormin warned him.

Wander looked back at Mono with clenched fists. I swore I would go to any lengths to get you back, Mono, he thought. If this is what I have to do, then so be it. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling where Dormin presumably dwelt. "It doesn't matter," he said.

"Very well..." Dormin boomed, sounding pleased. "Raise thy sword by the light... and go to the place where the sword's light gathers... There, thou shalt find the Colossus thou art to defeat."

Unsheathing his sword once again, Wander walked out onto a balcony that overlooked the southern plains of the Forbidden Lands. The fury in his eyes blazed hotter than it ever had. He held up the Ancient Sword, the flat of the blade catching the mid-afternoon sun, the light beam pointing directly to the southern cliffs some distance away. I'll bring you back, Mono, he thought. I'll slay every one of those foul beasts, and we'll be together again. I promise.

And so what would become a genocide began.

A/N: And there you have it. Improvement, thy name is Rylek. Anyways, a word of warning: Since I'm officially working on two stories now, and this one does not have priority, updates will be slow. I'm not sure how slow, but slow. Just to get this outta the way, some of the changes I added in the original version (such as the day/night cycle, which the actual game does not have) will make their return. I'm not sure if the nightmares will though. I want to do something similar, but more subtle. We'll see. Either way, you can leave a review if you're so inclined. Or don't, makes literally no difference to me regardless.