A small tremor softly rumbled through the soil. The outline of the stone slab became visible sinking into the dirt as moss and rocks fell from the cliff face. I watched as it crept into the ground. The sound echoed around the small circular shaped basin that was carved into the middle of high rock walls. Dust began to settle, and a woman figure was outlined in the doorway the stone slab left. Mono stood in the black tunnel entrance. Even now while my brain was foggy with fear, her raw beauty still struck me. She was a full head shorter than me, and only seventeen. The sweeping white gown she wore fluttered over her ankles. Her slender feminine shape and burnt umber hair made me want to hold her. The tears in her eyes made their turquoise irises even more vibrant and startling. On late summer evenings, when the sun was level with the flat earth, I could have stared at her shadowed silhouette for days, if only she and the sun had held still. My stomach lurched as I stepped forward, grabbed her waist and carried her to the stone table in the middle of the room. When I released her, she was trembling. Her slender hands were grasping her face, trying to hide it. It was clear she wished she could melt through the table and hide from me. This was like a nightmare. It almost seemed like I’d dreamt it before. Even my movement was dream-like. A hazy gloss coated my vision as I watched my hand slowly reached for Mono’s arm and pulled it away from her face. I locked all of her limbs to stone claps on the table. She was sobbing now. Tears traced there way down her gritty face.

Mono. My only love. She had had no choices. Fate brought her here slowly, and fate left her for me to strike down. Fate, the beast it was, snuck among the watching crowd, and though no one could see it, fate was waiting. Watching. Then fate will snatch you away, and pull you to your destiny. My fate was to be a templar, and to live alone, without a lover or wife of my own. Mono’s was to be killed today. It’s not a surprise that Mono was going to die. No matter how unwelcome it was, at least it wasn’t a surprise.


Our supposed “God”, several years before I was born, had commanded Droror’s shaman, Lord Emon, to kill a girl with brown hair, for she would be the bane of this city. Most of the people here had a black or red sheen to there locks, so she should be fairly easy to spot. The God didn’t explain why, and Emon blindly followed his orders like a dog obeying his master. Every time a child was born, Emon would visit their home under the false pretenses that he was congratulating them, while he would look for the cursed brown hair. One decade after our God had foretold the curse, Mono was born. That was the same year, Droror experienced a drought for the first time. It was the same year that all of the cows, fish, horses and sheep died. I remember. I was three years old. I can recall the numbing hunger. Eating my leather shoe. Being so thin I could count my ribs. Emon took the signs for what they were. When Mono turned seventeen (the traditional age for sacrifices to be killed), she would be taken to the sacred mountain Basarian and die on the stone table. Still, the plagues continued while Mono grew. The river Phalanx dried. Earthquakes nearly tore the city in two. A pack of feral wolves appeared, ran wild through the streets, and ate everything. Just last year, a hurricane ripped across the plains, even though the sea was hundreds of miles to the south. Then the day they had all hoped for came three weeks ago. Mono turned seventeen. She had had no clue what a curse she was, or that most of the people were secretly praying for her early demise. I suppose they felt, deep inside their minds, ashamed of their bloodlust. So they kept it secret from her. Now the truth was finally out. The time had come. Two days ago, Emon approached me and asked me to carry out the deed of killing Mono.

Emon’s face was very heavily wrinkled, with thin, flossy silver hair that hung just above his shoulder. It gave him an impalpable air, like he was of greater power than I knew. I suppose his spitting image was what anyone would imagine if they had to picture a person who could commune with gods and demons. How I wished to release Mono and run with her from this hellish place. But Emon was present at this sacrifice, and no one defies the wish of the Shaman. My sword menacingly clanged as I drew it from its sheath. The sword that had spilled the blood of many sacrifices before.

The templar’s swords were simple in design, with only one edge and no guard for the hand. Of course none of the swords were notable when compared to the Shaman’s legendary glaive. It was sharpened on both sides, and half-way down was an indent that made it easier to pull out during the frequent battles our city fought. The wrist guard and handle was carved into a serpentine dragon, with emeralds for its eyes and diamonds for scales. to Dormin and the forbidden lands.


Thousands of years before my people had lived here, there was a place ruled by a god of both man and woman; light and shadow; life and death. The power of this being was so inexplicable and wonderful that there was no way it could go un-worshipped. The people built all sorts of shrines and alters. Runes beyond measure were constructed so they might pray to the god. His name was Dormin. A thriving city was built, and people from several hundred miles around came to worship him. His fame was soon universal. Dormin was made of 16 different entities, all combined into one being. Eight male, and Eight female to form the God. Sixteen idols were built within the largest temple, “The Shrine of Worship”, where Dormin resided. Each statue represented a different part of the land, most of them carved to resemble animals or humans. Avion, the bird of prey and lord of lakes and rivers, or Kuromori, the Wall Shadow, overseer of cliffs and tall buildings. All of the statues were worshipped as minor gods.

But predictably, one may even go as far to say unavoidably, this changes. It was gradual, unnoticeable by anyone. To this day nobody really knows what happened. A new religion rose, and perhaps it was started by a new thinker. Someone may have been angry with Dormin. Regardless, they created an untouchable, invisible, cold and impersonal, god of light, and darkness was its enemy. Dormin was the enemy. Rumors spread, and soon, Dormin’s powers were feared instead of praised. The majority of people changed beliefs, and the minority was killed. They migrated north, but before they left for a new place to live and love there nonexistent god, one priest, through use of a mystic sword, bound Dormin to the statues. He is left torn and trapped to the idols and to the land. Left to labor in humiliation and wait to be free again. Over the years, the old land’s name was lost, and is now only known as the place wherein none tread--The Forbidden Land. Those people were the ancestors of everyone in this city, and the very sword used to trap the old god was resting in Emon’s sheath.



I had heard the story told by Lord Emon late at night along with the other templar’s over one hundred times. It was a favorite of all the boys. We nearly made Emons ears fall of with our insistent nagging for him to tell it to us again and again. Mono had come to know the legend almost as well as I did. Late at night, she would sneak to my house and I would thread the tale for her a countless number of times. And when she would fall asleep under my sheets, I slept on the floor. I never told her I loved her. Fear of rejection always held my tongue; now I was sure she hated me. I didn’t blame her. I hated myself at this moment.


I placed my hand on her chest and gently pushed her back to the table. One tear fell off my chin and hit her cheek. It shimmered there against her ashen skin. I met her eyes. Well, I have nothing to lose now I thought. I gathered the words to the tip of my tongue, then let them overflow past my chin. “I love you” I whispered clumsily, tripping over the “L“. She shot me a look of pure loathing. Then, her expression softened. She was pleading with me. I closed my eyes as more tears fell from them. The sword rose above my head. I will fix this Mono. My sword glinted in the feeble sunlight as I thrust the blade down.