Un-forbidding the Land {Wander x Echoplex}

“Search peace here, search there, search everywhere; Thou shalt find only with thy pair!”

‘You need to do it. You need to free us. We shall be whole and fulfil all your deepest desires; you shall be king.’ Promised the disembodied voice while it rung within The Prince’s mind. It sounded to him like the chorus of several creatures, 16 to be precise. The Prince could not fathom how he knew the exact number, all he knew was that he knew it.
‘Get out of my head, Dormin!’ Exclaimed The Prince within as he tried to dispel the chorus of voices within his head of that one creature that always considered itself as some kind of royalty by referring to itself in the plural.
‘You know you want to save us, you know you do, you know you do, you know...’ The voice trailed off into the distance as The Prince fell down onto his knees sobbing. The urge to concede, to acquiesce was insurmountable. It was an intoxicating need and no pain in the world could match the agony coursing through his veins. He could not understand what was the power of this demon? What was it doing to him?

The young boy was sobbing; he could remember the comfortable bed in his palace and now and all its comforts. Sleeping on the floor like this, in this arid land with not a single soul in sight, the boy felt almost distressed and lonesome. He longed for only one thing, the loving embrace of his mother and the warmth he experienced while resting his head in her lap and sleeping. But now, all he got was the cold ground. The land was so ominous, that not even a single creature resided here, save a lizard or two Survival is something that drives the sanest of minds towards the very depths of insanity. The young boy was no stranger to this instinct. Therefore, in order to survive this arid land, the boy was compelled to hunt his only companions and make them the source of his nourishment, eat them to stay alive. He had wandered this land for several months, or was it years? He could not remember and the solidarity of his existence was excruciating.

Finally, when he finally came across the grandest among all the numerous small temples within this land, he was sure to the very ebb of his soul that he would once again not witness a single creature, let alone a human within this grand structure carved so intricately with mythril and marble, certainly in honour of some god or goddess. The young prince could not fathom why this land which showed all signs of a great past of human civilisation with its magnificent structures, infinite temples, pathways, and bridges was in fact so utterly devoid of fauna, let alone human beings.

Ascending the steps of this temple, the prince decided to explore. He knew it was a temple because when he entered it, right before him lay carved in some indiscernible stone a grand altar, carved to perfection. It seemed to him that amongst all these ruins, this was the only part of the arid land untouched by the tides of time and lay unnerved by its attempts to destroy it. The sun gleamed upon the pale skin and made it illuminate while azure optics darted forth deeper. With a slight jerk of his cranium, the prince dispersed the strands of long and straight golden locks which attempted to hamper his vision of the mesmerising structure within. Life within the arid land had made the once sinewy young boy, weaker and disheveled. The once strong limbs were now lanky and carried the boy with waning effort as he explored deeper to look at large structures of various creatures on either side on the isle that led outward. These sculptures towered over his tiny form, all resembling some kind of beast and some human. The prince assumed that these were deities that the people of this land used to worship before they abandoned their homes. Then, as he stood, gazing down into a black pool of water which seemed more like a deep abyss into hell, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The hand felt warm and the prince knew that it was her. “Sister!” He exclaimed and turned around to embrace the young girl that never spoke a single word to him, but whose eyes expressed all the emotions that The Prince wanted to hear. Conversations with Dormin had always left him in a state of trepidation and this young girl, always clad in white, with long flowing black hair and pale skin which the prince had started to call sister was his only companion during the exhausting and exasperating introspective conversations with the demon. There was a small tug upon his robes and he looked down upon the little boy he had named ‘Ico’ .

Hearing the neigh of a horse, he knew it could only be his dear ‘Swift’. Seeing the limping horse with a gimp leg, The prince wanted the horse to never feel incomplete or unsuitable as a part of its species known for speed. Therefore, he had built a wooden support for the horse’s broken leg and named him for pace which the horse could produce even with the gimp leg depicting how fast and valorous the horse once was. Lifting Ico in his arms, he held the young boy, while the horse came galloping forward, neighing and tugging The Prince to direct him further towards something they had never seen before, there was going to be a big change in the Forbidden Land, it would not be Forbidden any longer.

When the augur raised the bridge, the denizens of the caravan virtually collapsed in awe. Its intricate lattice-work of stones ascended into their previous positions, having been fixed so they would not do so much as budge. The augur swore on his life that it would be a safe passage but the majority of vagabonds were skeptic. A farmer was the first one to test the augur’s merit. He strode across with his horse cantering behind, driving his heel into the stone. He laughed and gestured for the others to follow. “It’s truly magical,” he whispered; the augur smiled, absentmindedly curling his mustache as the caravan gallivanted after him.

The wind was sharp at such a height, nearly enough to cut cheekbones. The vagabonds shuffled in a single line across the bridge’s suspension, most shielding their eyes from the gale. The augur was strangely unscathed—he’d made this pilgrimage several instances before. Perhaps the wind was a warning to the Forbidden Land’s visitors; the last testament to drive them back, away from the evil that dwelt there, but humans were programmed to overreach.

“This place … it’s so empty,” commented another farmer. He was a stout man whose face was windburnt from his years in the field. He appeared to be directing his concern to a woman adjacent to the augur—she, unlike the survivors, was strangely exotic looking. Her hair was reminiscent of a lion’s mane—black as a starless night sky riddled in wavy tresses. She was swarthy-complected with striking ginger-hued eyes and high cheekbones. She shot him a peculiar glance and his smile only softened. “It looks barren.”

“It’s not, I assure you,” the augur interjected, “There was an empire here epochs ago. The earth stole it back with time; you will find remnants of it, but I implore you to explore its rich history—which, may I add, is as rich as the soil.” The augur had an obsequious air to him. He was tall and wore his hair in a bun decorated with tiny porcelain roses. He was handsome, some years shy of his forties and he spoke with a trustworthy trill. “This place has been long forgotten by the remnants of its people. The myths are not quite concise, I’m afraid, but the shamans in the east claim that a covetous presence dwelt here. When its first settlers erected their empire, it grew envious and lured the empire’s leaders in with promises of wealth and grandeur. In exchange for seemingly menial tasks, it granted them their greatest boons.”

“It’s all fucking hogwash.” One of the masons was staring to the high shrine’s steeple when he growled, arms crossed. “Look at this place. It’s a peninsula. I can see the ocean from here—it probably rose during the rainy seasons and flooded the damn place, much like our home. Salt water probably made the place barren for gods know how long, but by the texture of the vines, that was some centuries ago.”
The augur laughed as they approached the shrine’s postern. A gaping, wide arch welcomed them; light from the pale white sun slanted in through the crenels and illuminated the staircase winding down into the bowels of the shrine. “And it is astute mind like yours, my friend, that will make this place a fitting home for you. Come. We will make camp in the shrine for the night and map out our direction of exploration in the morning.”

“Water is most important,” one of the architects chimed in. “You’ve been here before, augur. Have you seen a lake?”

“Yes, I have. Several, in fact, all fresh water, pure as that of ice. But, as I mentioned, it is wisest to take rest. The land is empty, yes, but an expanse—you will tire easily if you don’t brace yourselves.”

“Mykonos.” The shamaness, his guard, gestured to the bottom of the stairwell. It seemingly ascended into darkness but her eyes were well trained. The augur was drawn to her sonorous beckon; he knelt down and looked, squinting, and threw his eyes open. “There are people down there.”

“Did any of you send scouts forward?” Mykonos asked. The line of settlers looked at each other and shrugged. “How could people be here with the bridge having been collapsed?”

“It’s not impossible. The cliff is steep, but with the right gear it could be descended,” put in the skeptic mason. He pushed through the crowd and knelt next two the augur and his assistant. “’Hoy!” he yelled. His voice echoed through the shaft. “You, down there!”

“Ueeenngghh!” The sound thundered within the great temple of Dormin as Agro bit onto the sleeve of The Prince’s tunic and tugged him on, luring him forth towards the rear entrance into the temple, the one that arose from high above the spiralling staircase.

During his initial days within the temple which had now become his permanent abode, he made several excursions within every depths of the temple, exploring all uncharted territories. It was at that moment that he had discovered the spiralling staircase which led upwards into the temple on and on and on.

After a strenuous ascent, the Prince had finally discovered an exit. Very slowly, he had pushed. Mono was standing behind him wordlessly like a ghost as always. She had never spoken a single word and The Prince had assumed that she was probably dumb; what other reason could be to a person not even making an attempt to converse? Language barriers can exist, but even with them, she would have made indiscernible sounds. But around Mono, the only experience one could experience was silence and communication through means of gestures and tacit understanding.

Upon opening the door, the Prince had witnessed the presence of a bridge. “A way out! There is a way out of this cursed land!” Exclaimed he with absolute zeal.

‘Thou shalt not escape our realm so easily!’ The words echoed within his unconscious awareness as if he was speaking to himself.

“You again? I told you, I will not do your bidding. I am not a murderer and that innocent creature was trying to survive. I still feel guilty about it. I will not kill more for you.” The Prince exclaimed to himself. He could see the expression of bewilderment on Mono’s face upon T he Prince’s abrupt soliloquy.

“It is a very long story, I will explain it you someday.” He assured the young woman, whose pale wrist he had firmly gripped within his darker palm.

She nodded in approval and then as they went forward upon the bridge, the Prince groaned in dismay to witness that it had already been broken mid way.

During that particular moment the Prince could swear he heard a very malicious laughter echoing within his psyche.

“I hate you, Dormin.” He muttered and shook his head in disgust. This time when he turned to Mono, she did not appear flummoxed and merely grinned with reassurance as if she could fathom his pain. But the Prince knew that she could not understand, nobody could; not her who was absolutely dumb, not the horse who was again dumb, not even the child, who had not yet learnt to speak. The Prince found himself lamenting the fact that he coveted human interaction for years and when he found it, he once again felt absolutely lonely. He wondered whether this was a joke that the Gods intended to play upon him.

’We are the only God in this land! The words echoed in his mind as if in antiphon to his thoughts.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" He screamed as Mono winched and recoiled, letting go of his hand and the young horned boy awoke suddenly at the sound and began to cry. The Prince always wondered why the boy had horns, but he realised that he would not get an answer from Mono and considering how this land portrayed signs of queer happenings, the horns on this boy’s head were quite trivial.

When they were upon the spiral staircase, The Prince heard the voice of men.... MEN! and in this arid land!

“Hello?” He called out inquiringly.

“Someone lives here?” The voice called out and The Prince could notice an air of bewilderment within their calling.

“Yes, it is a man, a woman, an infant, and a horse. We have been stranded on this land with no means of escape.” Retorted The Prince, his voice now displaying eminent relief upon finally having spoken to a person after what appeared to him to be centuries.

Presently, The Prince observed a whole group of men ascend down the spiral staircase. He could not believe his own eyes. There were PEOPLE! So many of them! The Prince thought he must be dreaming, that he would wake up from this paradise only to realise that he was still alone within the arid land not even having met this mute girl he had come to call sister.

But the moment of anticipation had come and passed and the people were still there.

“How did your entire family come here?” Asked one of the men who appeared to be some form of sentry to the group, standing at the front.

“Family? Oh no! I had been...” The prince paused between his retort; he could not tell them the truth, they too might condemn him like his people and family did. “I was with a group of people and we were travelling over a cliff. I fell from it and the next thing I remember, I was in this land. This girl with me, I found her residing in the temple with this boy and horse. She is a mute so I never got to know what the relationship between her and the boy is and the horse probably belongs to her because it was friendly with her. We have been living here for I don’t know how long. Why are you in the Forbidden Land? I am sure you are aware that it is cursed...”

Then as he was speaking, The Prince stopped between his words. There, within the entire group of people he saw a ghost. ‘How can this be...?’ He wondered. ‘She looks exactly like...But how? She is supposed to be dead. This land truly is accursed. I am seeing the dead rise back to life. How is this possible?’ Sweat coursed down his forehead along with an intense sense of fear coupled with emotions long lost, now suddenly triggered by memory as well as an immense desire the moment his eyes witnessed the long black mane of hair, ginger eyes, and the same perfection of beauty.... It was her!

Behind them, the bridge collapsed into oblivion; the stones plummeted into the watery canyon well below sea-level, others having found a new home in the desert expanse south of the peninsula’s only entrance. The settlers shrieked and cried out in horror but the augur and his assistant were entirely calm. “It’s for the best,” Mykonos promised, “A precaution. I will raise the bridge again when the time comes to send a scouting party back to the survivors.” The shamaness, Ohm, made a face derived from scrutiny. She was far too taken with observing the humans dwelling below. She clutched her khakharra so tightly her knuckles flashed white.

When the groups met, the shamaness stalked each faction from the shadow of a column adjacent to the pool at the bottom of the serpentine stairwell. Her place was to observe and protect; she was well trained and highly educated in the means of magics, but it was Mykonos who would lead the people. Regardless, the man whose hair was flaxen appeared to be fabricating lies.

“Forbidden?” a young woman winced. She was a tiny thing, lithe, but chose to come with her father, a farmer. “Mykonos, you did not mention this.”

“It was a thing of little note; a myth, nothing more, certainly not anything less. The last remnants of this land that fled before their empire fell claimed that it was cursed, but the only curse that afflicted them was avarice. It is a place like any other, uncultivated and unmanned.” Mykonos leaned his weight onto his staff. There was brief silence among the settlers, all of which were exchanging looks of conviction among themselves.

When Mykonos glimpsed the infant, his eyes flashed almost mischievously. “Please understand that we did not expect people to be here, but we have supplies enough to share.”

“Certainly an infant having survived this long heralds the richness of the land,” the farmers gossiped behind Mykonos, “Perhaps this will work to our benefit.”
“Regardless. I apologize if we’re invading your home. Regard us as guests. We will sleep here for a night, two at most, then be on our way.” Mykonos stroked his moustache and glanced at the shamaness. She simply nodded at him.

“Your names? What are they?” Mykonos inquired. “I am Augur Mykonos—the woman you see flanking us is Ohm, a soothsayer, and the others here are settlers come to find a new home. Have you explored this place? Perhaps we can exchange stories for bread.”

The Prince stood there, still gazing upon the girl that was standing before them. He could not believe it was her. How could she be alive? She is supposed to be dead. But her actions, her expressions, her gait was absolutely different from what he remembered. ‘It cannot be her,’ He assured himself; ‘That is just impossible.’ He knew that there must be some mistake here. He knew this must be a queer dream from which he would wake up soon.

The words that he heard made him think otherwise. The one called ‘Mykonos’ he knew was either absolutely ignorant or was knowing and yet deceiving the innocent people on purpose.

‘The tales of Dormin, the Colossi and the curse upon this land was widely known and acknowledged .’ He remembered, ‘Then how could these people have not known it. Where do they come from to have not heard of the lore I grew up hearing?’

The Prince was at a loss for words at how easily the man was deceiving all these people. But then he heard the name... ‘Ohm’ Instantly, The Prince knew that she could not be the one. She was dead and this woman who looked so much like her could only be someone who has a face similar to her.

Finally, with a sigh of dismay when this realisation dawned upon him like the enlightenment of Nirvana upon Buddha, The Prince decided to enlighten these ignorant people.

“This place is indeed cursed.” Advised The Prince, “It is inhabited by a pugnacious and nefarious demon called Dormin who has no bodily form and whose soul is divided into sixteen Colossi – Humongous creatures the size of siege towers that are scattered across this entire land and inhabit their solitary corners. Why do you think this land is devoid of any fauna or civilization? It is because of them. They have consumed all life upon this land and left it arid. The humans in this land fled centuries ago from the terror of the Colossi.”

With this The Prince showed them the hulking sculptures on either side of the isle that lead up to the altar. “You see those sculptures?” He exclaimed, “They represent the Colossi and the one shattered in the corner? It was because I killed it. I did it under the directions of that evil demon Dormin. It left me with this!” The Prince then lifted his tunic to reveal the massive scar that ran across from his chest to his abdomen.

“I almost died that day, following the word of that demon. Trust me, in this land, nobody is safe as long as Dormin inhabits it. But he is in himself powerless until The Colossi are killed and they shall not attack his temple. This is the only safe place in the entire Forbidden Land and this is the only place you should reside in.”

He then gazed upon Ohm, a knowing smile painted upon The Prince’s countenance as if he knew the Shamaness all his life. The intense gaze upon her long with the narrowing of his eyes all intended to say but one thing to the beautiful girl, ‘Please trust me.’