The young man lifted his head from the cold, stone floor, his vision blurring in front of him, barely making out the altar where Mono lied. He propped himself up with his elbows and finally raised to his feet.
He expected it already, a disembodied voice… or voices, rang through the wide hall. Masculine and feminine, two voices wielded into one distressing harmony.
"Finally," it said, the stream of light from the circular cut on the temple's ceiling poured onto the red-headed young man's face, "The last colossus… The ritual is nearly over…"
The mortal looked away from the light, adjusting his sword belt, his breathing slightly heavy.
"Thy wish is nearly granted, but someone stands to get in thy way… Make haste, for time is short…" Dormin's voice echoed, the masculine voice dominating this time, he could barely make out the feminine voice, but it was still there, faint and soft.
Just one more and it would be over. The wanderer knew the heavy price he had to pay to revive Mono back from the dead. He knew how it destroyed the balance of life in order to do such a dangerous task, but he did not care. Mono was not supposed to die. She did not deserve death.
He patted his horse, mounted it and rode off to his next destination; South. To the end of the world