When I was still a young boy, my mother would read me books just to flood the time. Books of old, books that have been sitting on the dusty book shelf for years. The tales of the greatest Colossals to ever grace our land. The rulers that shaped Caelum to what it is today and every single one had their own legends, that have been passed down from generation to generation. Growing up I had dreamt of becoming like them, from conquering cities, slaying beasts and exploring dungeons. What I never knew was that I was destined to do so and I couldn't escape it.
Xanthe had told me that such legends were real and not just mere myths. As soon as I had turned 10, Xanthe had been gone for 2 years, I often wondered where she is, how she's doing and if she was okay. Mother never spoke of her, I started seeing the world differently and knew there was something wrong with this body of mine, as I was nowhere near mother's body mass. I was only as big as her hand, I knew I was small but never realised how small I was. Questions flooded my mind and needed to be drained out. Question after question came and non left, from why I wasn't as big as mom or atleast Xanthe, why didn't I have a name like they both did, why are we staying in such a place, far from the city, far from all the other Colossals. It was as if all these questions were eating my brain out, I knew deep down that mother had all the answers but kept them hidden.
A part of me wanted to ask, a part of me wanted to run away, leaving these woods and all the memories I had in this place. I just wanted to go to the city and see for myself all the houses that were built from bricks and not wood like this cottage. I wanted to see the castle, horses and chariots, I had dreams I wanted to achieve in the city. Xanthe had made me curious of the world, staying in this place made me feel like I was suffocating but I was still the obedient little boy and I couldn't go against mother. I knew she had her own reasons for leaving the city and staying in such a place.