{CHAPTER ONE: A Twist in the Tale}

...

In these cursed lands, where at times even the air seemed to stand still, the only noise to puncture the silence was the labored cry of a beast made of stone. A Colossus of the Forbidden Lands. It sounded as if the earth itself was bellowing in pain.

Deep inside stone walls, the battle raged. The remnants of a castle courtyard, overlooking an expanse of desert sands, shook with the struggles of a desperate man taking on a moving mountain.

The humanoid beast, Argus, shook its massive shoulders in a vain attempt to dislodge the skinny warrior clinging to its coarse fur for dear life. The man's knuckles were white but he did not feel the pressure on his hands. Despite his dire circumstances, there seemed to be a dullness about his eyes, which were once a vibrant blue.

The beast stopped jostling for a fateful minute in which the warrior, Wander, nimbly dropped down to the back of its right arm, just above the elbow that was clad in a broken ring of stone armor. A faint glow emanated from the dark fur of the beast; a weak point humming to life because of the power of Wander's sword. Without hesitation, the man plunged his weapon into the tender flesh.

Argus immediately recoiled in pain, lifting its arm and dropping the massive stone club that it held in its right hand. The motion caused Wander to lose his grip and fall to the ground, where he quickly got to his feet again, watching the beast carefully to calculate its next move. It was as if the warrior didn't feel the impact of the fall jar his bones.

Was this really the case, was he just so close to the end of his task that pain was no longer an obstacle? Finally, after a complicated and arduous struggle to outwit this Colossus, he was nearly there. One more sigil, and then the Fifteenth would fall. One more Colossus, and he would have done Dormin's bidding. He would be able to hold his dear Mono – full of life - in his arms once more.

Wander darted out of the way as Argus slammed its massive fist angrily on the floor, causing the stone to rupture and the entire foundation of the building to shake. That was when the man saw it. Glowing like a beacon in the middle of the beast's clenched fist was the symbol he knew all too well. The thought of Mono gave him a surge of energy. He ran forward and grabbed onto what little fur was there, pulled his arm back and stabbed. Over and over his sword tore into Argus's palm, warm black blood spewing all around him, blanketing the already grimy clothes of the warrior. Here he was, only the size of an ant to this monster, and yet he was draining the life from it like a leech. He stabbed until he felt the beast falter beneath him. He released his grip and stood back, panting, as Argus staggered forward and finally fell dramatically on its stomach, sending a quake through the earth. Defeated.

Wander had learned long ago not to run from the spectral tendrils that came for him after every Colossus fell. This time he almost welcomed them. He braced himself as the black strands tore through his body, and he was brought to his knees. The stone castle blurred in his vision and faded. He felt himself flying into a white light; whispers all around him.

...

When he came to, Wander kept his eyes closed for a moment. He let the sounds of the Forbidden Lands seep into his consciousness. The unrelenting wind, the distant screech of a hawk. The crash of waves against a shoreline…?

The warrior's eyes shot open, and it was in that moment that he realized he felt sand below him. He sat up immediately. He was not in the Shrine of Worship.

He was on a beach, with his mare Agro standing faithfully beside him. But it wasn't just any beach – it was the shoreline where he had slain Quadratus, the Bull. He recognized it immediately by the stone pillars buried into the sand and the slanted path leading up to the plains. There was something missing, however – the corpse of the second Colossus.

Throughout his task Wander had taken time to explore the Forbidden Lands. Occasionally he would revisit his old battlegrounds, only to notice that the Colossi, when defeated, became mounds of stone and rubble that were slowly being reclaimed by the earth. In fact, he had seen Quadratus's fallen figure for himself when crossing over the earthen bridge. But it wasn't here.

Nothing about this felt right. Wander didn't know what force always transported him back to the Shrine after each Colossus battle – he'd never questioned it; he was always grateful. This time, however, it appeared to have failed. If this was Dormin's way of messing with him before leading him to the last Colossus, he was far from amused.

Wander was different in more ways than just his location. He felt… fine. He was not in pain, nor lethargic, nor did he feel like his blood was being replaced by that of a stranger's, like was the case after slaying each Colossus. The seemingly permanent pit in his stomach as he roamed the Forbidden Lands was no longer there. Upon observation of his appearance, he could see no scratches on his skin; no dirt or blood on his clothes; no tears in the fabric of his tunic. Following each battle he had been magically healed upon awakening of any life-threatening injuries, but this time it felt like he'd been cleansed.

At least Agro was here. Wander came to the side of his mare, his only companion throughout these despairing tasks, putting a hand on her neck. He hoisted himself up into the saddle and gave himself a final once-over. He was relieved to see his sword safely in its sheath and his bow and arrows strapped to his back. He goaded Agro into a steady canter and began exploring his surroundings.

He guided his mare up and out of the seaside knoll, to the earthen bridge that would lead him back to the Shrine or towards the desert where he fought Argus. Once he was into the light, he unsheathed his sword and lifted it to the sun in a very practiced habit.

Nothing happened. There were no scattered beams of sunlight glinting off the blade to tell him where he was supposed to go. The sword did not hum promisingly. Wander began to panic.

He was so disoriented that he did not notice he'd been spotted, and approached. He was so unaccustomed to hearing other human voices that the sound of a man's gruff inquiry nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Who are you, trespasser?"

AN; It's been a while since I've posted anything on here, but I'm pretty excited about this one. This is a twist on the events of the game, and will be my take on the origins of Dormin and the ancient inhabitants of the Forbidden Lands. Let me know what you think! - Monica