They say they come from broken nebulas. That their bodies are made of calloused dust and ash. They say, they are nothing but a by product of the stars when they reach the end of their time.
The naked eye far too weak to withhold against their great glow. They are the rulers of eternity. The carriers of time. The deciders of fate. They are never mistaken as their knowledge knows no limits. They are justice. Yet they remain a myth, a legend a mere story - the story no one lived long enough to truly tell.
Once great rulers of the world now nothing but a cautionary tale told to those who seek mischief. They are long forgotten as the pillars of kindness and empathy and serve as the images of fear and obedience.
No mortal soul has met with a Great giant eye to eye. Hence the fathers and mothers tell of their great inhumane size and rock like features. They alert of their deformed hands, used to shape the earth, and their bodies lit by an amburn flame. Their strength beyond any known to mankind and their low growl loud enough to scare th bravest of warriors.
They do not describe beyond. The face that appears in their minds, is so hideous that they fear even if they spoke about it they would be met by a cruel fate. In their dreams they see the eyes of the great giant and stand face to face with the devil himself. Death looking back into their eyes.
As the time passed - people went and people came, yet the word about the great giants never died down, except their voices were much more hushed and quiet now, barely falling above a whisper. The once disorted and vicious faces melt into distant images that only appear in the darkest of dreams. They no longer serve as a punishment but only as a legend.
Until one December morning, when a man ran back to the village howling like an animal. His cry an inhuman noise.
"I have seen him. I have seen the devil - the devil himself. He stood before me. Right before my very two eyes. His valiant figure an empirical body of stone. Two boulder like knuckles ready to destroy anything in its path. Yet that was not the worst - the worst was just ahead. His eyes, or rather what was left of them ominously staring back into mine as if it could see through my very soul. As if the heavens have granted it a passage into my past, present and future all at once. Oh but the sound it made. A low machine like rumbling emerged from its gut. Loud enough to shake the ground, and send a tremble to my knees."
To this very story, told by the bravest of men, in unison the village conflicted to just how he had managed to live long enough to tell the tale upon coming face to face with the king of darkness.
"I have slain him. With this very sword. I have crafted it with fallen stars and thorns. I plunged it into its stone body and it ripped apart like tender flesh. It squelched as I took it apart seam by seam. My blade bathed in its maroon blood. I ripped its life in two and watched with anticipation as its colousal glow fell apart. The ravine of stones tumbled down the red stained field and I laughed. I, who defended the great giant, now stand before you to tell my story. Smother me in glory. Approach me with caution. Let me lay between your eldest daughters soft breasts and rest against your youngest lap. Allow me to great fortune. Glory is mine."
Pride has possesed him and taken him hostage. It holds him down between its claws in a tight cold grasp, as the earth holds down the body if the fallen great giant.
After this incident, the village praised the man as he carried his pride everywhere he went. He ate the best, drank the best and slept the best . He wore clothes not even the greatest of kings could imagine. Had every woman he wished to have and laid with her when his heart desired. All because he slain the great giant.
Slowly, as the days went by, the talk of the man died down. The village went back to it's old habits - people bickered, farmers butchered their animals, farmers grew the crops. It all grew silent and tranquil for a very long time. Once again, people came and people went.
Under the cold December breeze, a great rumbling began. The noise could be heard from miles away as it shook the whole village. The red stain brick houses chattered their teeth. The clothes on the washing line danced to the bitter whispers and moans of the rumble. People of the village retrieved into the darkest corners of their houses. Cowering away, hoping for the rumble to stop.
To their demise, the low growl only intensified as the days turned into nights. By now it's monstrous echo could be heard far above the village and drew the attention of all nearby towns. The air seemed to grow much darker and heavier as if a spell had been caster over it. The curtains of the night were constantly shut and the people once again grew afraid.
However what the people did not know, was the source of the ominous sound. It did not come from the ocean, or from the mountains or from the earth. It came from a far further away place - from the great nebulas. The machine like rumble, was not the violent scream of death, but the thousands of stone feet shuffling against the soft ground. Thousands of great giants were stepping down from the sky.
The cold stallions have made their way to the village. Upon the first glance of this peculiar scene the poeple bound to their weapons and prepared for the great war to begin. All stood for battle together hand in hand to defeat the great monsters that approached.
Bracing their weapons they waited. Waited for the giants to strike - yet to strike came. The great giants simply walked past not paying any mind to the brave warriors. They dragged their feet across the sand toward the end of the village until as whole they came to a stop.
There he laid. The body now calloused and deteriorated. His face lost of all glow - the glow of a thousand skies. He did not look at peace. His mouth draped into a frightful scream. Eyes tightly sealed as if to shield him from the danger ahead. The fallen great giant laid ahead of his companions - would sunk into the ground.
To this sight, the gathered giants weeped and lamented as their knees sank to the ground. Their hearts having no room for anger- their all mourned their lost friend. They felt incomplete as if a piece of them was ripped away. Yet they did not feel hatred - they understand people fear what is not known to them.
They did not move from their position, the people of the village slowly growing accostomed to their sight. Until eventually they became one with the fallen comrade - their non earthy bodies growing starved without starlight.
