Aeons ago on a peninsula, long since lost, a wanderer risked his life to save and restore the life of his fallen beloved. He fought against beasts that no man had ever dared before with naught but his trusted horse, the magical sword forged to kill such creatures and the resolve that only love can bring. He slaughtered the Walking Mountains as they stood. One by one the great beasts fell until all sixteen lay destroyed. It was then that the voice that had lead the hero to destroy his foes was a demon by the name of Dormin, whose power was locked away in the sixteen colossus that were scattered through the peninsula in an attempt to keep him from regaining his power.
After all sixteen of the Colossi were destroyed by the Wanderer showed horrible signs of physical degradation and wearing two small horns from his head. A Shaman by the name of Lord Emon arrived just after the sixteenth had fallen and had just enough time to stop the Dormin, now possessing and transforming the Wanderer into a shadowed Colossus. The Shaman cast a spell and discarded the sword into a body of water, causing a vortex of light to drag the demon to his demise, leaving the sword cleansed and the Wanderer reborn as a baby.

True only to the words he spoke, Dormin's power was able to revive the Wanderer's loved Mono, who found the rebirthed hero and the weapon and took them to safety on the back of the horse. What two things that did not know until much longer down the line was that the young child had kept his and Dormin's memories from the adventure and possession and knew that this fight was long from over and that she would birth the first in a line of heroes.

3,000 years passed and a small horned boy of twelve trained deep in the woods with the sword that had been passed down for centuries from father to son and mother to daughter, each being trained by the last to learn and told the story of their great ancestor and his stupid quest that would doom all of humanity if not for them. It was his turn to learn the family responsibility now and he was excited. He always wanted to hold the Forbidden Sword, as it was named long ago. It was his mother who trained him, showing how the sword was to be used. The training included lots of climbing and jumping to train his dexterity and constitution. It was his sense of duty the drove him to do this.

The story of the Wanderer was passed down for generations, but the tellers did their best to leave it unexaggerated, though it did change from story to story. The Colossi was this big or looked this way, it always changed. The only part left pure was the ending where the ancient Shaman saved the lives of countless innocents by casting his spell. The other part added years later was told later in his life by Wanderer himself to his son. He remembered all that Dormin had known and he knew that the demon's power would one day return and would continue to until either he was free forever or was completely destroyed. That was the family responsibility. To stop the great demon when the time arose.

So the boy trained. He trained day and night for months on end until his stance was perfect, until he could hold onto the climbing wall for hours without tiring, until he could leap great distances with no problems. It took years and the boy of twelve was now twenty-seven. That was the day the ground shook with the powerful footsteps of something monstrous. The day had come and the boy, now man, was ready to face the beasts known as the Walking Mountains like his ancestor had. He held the sword to the sun and the beam of light pointed him in all directions. The confusion set in, but was slowly replaced with fear as several large creatures crashed dumbly through the trees.

They weren't like the Colossi of legend. They were much smaller, faster and his training was useless here. They held pudgy human forms, only having hair on their heads. He had no way to climb these things to find their weak points like he had been trained to. These weren't Colossi. Nothing near. If he could have chosen a word for them, he'd have said Titan. He knew it was futile to even try to fight and he ran. This wasn't his fight, but he knew these were the new beasts holding onto Dormin's spirit and he would have to live to fight another day or the world may just fall into darkness yet, but the sword glowed almost in an attempt to reassure him that retribution was in the future.