Legends of the Cursed Land of North: The Tale of Semnor

In the forgotten chronicles of the mortal world, there existed a land veiled in myth, a realm said to lie far beyond human reach. The old lores spoke of it as a place untouched by time, where the sun faltered and darkness ruled. Few had ever glimpsed its shadowed borders, and fewer still had lived to tell what they’d seen. The ancients had a name for this land: Lana Shumul Ard – the Cursed Land of North.

Legend claimed that creatures cursed by the world’s guardian roamed the North, and death awaited those who dared to venture there.

The Storyteller of Rimige

In a small, isolated village of Rimige, perched on the southernmost edge of Fajala – a stronghold of the Kooni tribe – an old man named Saaron sat telling stories to his grandson, Samar. Rimige rested at the threshold of the wild, a fact that explained why no true Koonian chose to live there. Saaron and his family were also not of the Kooni lineage either, but foreigners who had settled there long ago.

The room was lit by a dim, flickering light of a lantern battling against the night. In its trembling glow, Saaron’s weathered face was a map of time – each wrinkle a trace of stories long told. His hands, rough and calloused by years of labor, rested upon his knees. His greenish eyes, though blurred by age, still held the distant glint of hundreds of local sagas and historical memories passed down by his elders.

Samar spoke softly, his voice cutting through the quiet air. “Grandpa, we saw the dark forest while crossing Wastan – the land of the hostile Norians.” Samar paused, his youthful face clouded. “Father told me not to look at it, and when I asked why, he angrily silenced me. What secret lies within it? I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Saaron groaned, a low sound in his throat. “My child, that forest has long been abandoned.”

He remained still for a moment, then continued, “My father once told me that the forest is a gateway to the North, the cursed land where dark forces dwell. Many have ventured in to hunt or gather wood, but none has ever crossed its boundaries.”

He fell silent, beginning to rise before settling back onto his wooden stool.

An Ancient Lore

“Wait,” he said, his voice dropping. “There is a story I heard once, told to me by a stranger – a man who claimed to have visited the North. Would you like to hear his tale?

Samar’s eyes lit up. He responded quickly, leaning in, “Yes, Grandpa! Please tell me, who was he, and how did he survive the North?”

Saaron’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Well, I never truly knew who he was,” he murmured. I was only sixteen when I met him by the river outside our village.”

“The Shamghar River?” Samar interrupted.

“Oh yes, the Shamghar,” Saaron confirmed with a smile. “I remember that day vividly, I was singing an old local song, with my feet in the rushing water. I was lost in my own peace when suddenly…”

He paused, the memory tightening his voice. “Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder, making me stumble back in shock. I turned and saw a mature man standing behind me – tall, broad, and utterly unfamiliar.”

Saaron’s voice lowered, threaded with unease. “Samar, my child, I had never seen such a tall, strong man in my whole life. He looked different – stronger, older, as though the world itself had shaped him. I was frightened, for I had never seen him before. Before I could speak, he said: can you tell me the name of this place? I’ve lost my way.”

I swallowed my fear and managed to reply, “You are in Rimige, a village of Fajala, within the Kingdom of Valasiya.”

The stranger stared in awe, frozen as though struck by an unseen force. Then, without warning, he sank to his knees by the riverbank. His eyes were wide, his mouth half-open, and his face was contorted with clear signs of sorrow and deep pain.

Cautiously I reached out to him, “What happened?” I asked.

The man jolted as if my voice had shaken him out of a trance. “What did you say?”

“I asked what happened,” Saaron replied, pulling his hand back slightly. “You seemed… shaken when I mentioned the name of this village.”

The stranger’s head dropped. “Nothing… I shouldn’t be here. It can’t be possible.”

Saaron gently touched his shoulder again. “Are you alright?”

“No,” the man murmured, his voice raw. “I’m not. I don’t know how I came to this place. I was in the North.”

Saaron flinched, the word North draining the color from his face. After a moment, he whispered, “You live in the North?”

The stranger nodded slowly, “Yes, the North is where I belong now.”

Fear clenched Saaron’s chest. “I should go,” Saaron said, pushing himself to his feet. “You can’t be human. No one survives there.”

The man rose quickly and reached for Saaron’s arm. “Hey, don’t be afraid. I am human. I know what you’ve heard – that the North is cursed, that no soul can endure it – but I am proof that life still breathes in that land.”

He paused, a shadow crossing his face. “How it breathes… that’s a story the North keeps to itself.”

“I can’t believe this,” Saaron insisted.

The Warrior and The Peasant Girl

The stranger’s voice softened, steady and consoling. “Let me tell you something: the North is not as hostile as people believe. It’s wild, yes, but not heartless.

He paused, eyes narrowing as if remembering something buried deep. “But it spares no one who carries weakness.”

He looked away, voice lower now. “Though, I didn’t always belong there. I once lived in a small town called Huzaar, in the wealthy Kingdom of Naabiya, far to the east.”

“Then how did you reach the North? How did you survive, and why are you here?” Saaron pressed.

Tears welled in the stranger’s eyes. “I was the son of a warrior who wished me to follow his path. But I… I fell in love with a girl who did not want me to join the army.”

He offered a broken smile. “I was stubborn. I refused my father and told him I wanted to marry Schaline – a simple peasant girl.”

His face darkened. “My father was enraged. My brothers too tried to stop me. My younger brother, Sorovus, came to me and said coldly, ‘Brother, you must change your decision. If you won’t join the army, fine, but never marry this girl. Her character is not pure.’”

“His words burned me. I struck him so hard he fell to the ground with blood on his lip. He rose up and spat, ‘You are a fool who can’t see the truth. And you’ll pay for it.’”

“I didn’t listen to anyone because I loved Schaline so much,” Semnor said, his gaze softening. “She used to cook for me while I worked in the fields. We talked for hours, laughing. Her smiling face was a ruby flame; her golden hair, a comforting shadow. Her sweet voice brought me peace.”

His tone dropped to a whisper. “My father cast me out. I still remember my mother standing at the door, her eyes full of desperate love, watching me go. But my father was a man of his word. When he said I must leave, I had to.”

Betrayal and Exile

He sighed. “I went straight to Schaline’s home. Her father looked at me with strange eyes. ‘What do you want?’ he asked.”

Schaline rushed to the doorway, her voice trembling. “Father! I wanted to tell you about Semnor.”

Saaron leaned forward, eyes widening. “So, your name is Semnor?”

Semnor nodded. “Yes. Grief and surprise had caught me earlier, that’s why I hadn’t introduced myself properly.”

“Go on. What did her father say?” Saaron urged softly.

“I sat with him by the old wooden table,” Semnor said, his voice steady but distant. “I told him everything about our love, my family, and how I wanted to make her my wife. I swore I’d take care of her, that I’d work until my hands bled if I had to.”

“He listened in silence, then finally spoke. ‘I’ll agree to your marriage only if you can bring me one thousand gold coins. Earn them, give them to me, and I will marry my daughter to you myself.’”

Semnor paused, staring past Saaron as though seeing the past unfold before his eyes, “I didn’t hesitate. I promised I’d return soon and take Schaline with me.”

Semnor’s eyes grew distant. “I journeyed to Naabiya’s capital – a vast city of trade and wealth, where the air smelled of spice and sweat. There I found my childhood friend, Mefnus, who ran a bakery near the southern gates. I worked with him day and night, baking, delivering, doing every odd job I could find. My hands were blistered, my back ached, but I never complained.

After eight months, I had saved six hundred coins — still short, but my heart couldn’t wait. I needed to see Schaline again.”

Mefnus looked up from the counter, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “You want to go back? Yes, you should! You have earned one thousand coins, and it’s time to marry the love of your life. You are so lucky!”

“No,” I corrected him. “I’ve only earned six hundred. But I have to see her.”

Mefnus looked at me with a wide grin. “Count the coins one more time. I think you are mistaken. You have exactly one thousand.”

I opened my bag and counted. It was true: one thousand gold coins.

I stared at Mefnus, stunned. He was smiling. “Go my friend. Consider the rest a gift from me.”

Semnor’s voice trembled. “I hugged him tightly and thanked him.”

As I prepared to leave, Mefnus stopped me. “After the marriage, come back here,” he said. “My house has space for you both. We’ll work together, and you will never have to worry again.”

He handed me a bundle wrapped in linen. Inside were beautiful wedding clothes. “For the charming bride,” he said.

Semnor paused, his voice heavy with longing. “I left that night, my heart overflowing. The journey home felt like climbing a mountain. I couldn’t wait to see Schaline. I had the coins, the marriage was certain, and I had a job and a home waiting in the dream city of Naabiya’s capital. I dreamt of her smile, her laughter… our life together.”

He drew a slow breath. “When I reached the outskirts of my town, I plucked wildflowers and rushed toward Schaline’s home. The breeze was familiar, carrying what I imagined was her scent and the murmurs of her voice.

I reached her gate and saw her father standing there. The man spoke in a cold, strange voice. “Hey, why are you entering my house? What business do you have here?”

I was shocked. “What do you mean? It was agreed that if I brought one thousand gold coins, you would let me marry Schaline!”

Schaline’s father scoffed, “Oh, shut up and get lost, you poor idiot.” He tried to close the gate, but I stopped him. “For your kind information,” the father continued, “Schaline has married the son of our beloved landlord, Ramus. They gave me two hundred horses, dozens of sheep, and three thousand gold coins.”

Semnor’s voice cracked. “Before I could fully digest this betrayal, her father added: “Schaline is very happy. She accepted this proposal without any hesitation.” Then he shut the door in my face.

A raw, aching pain, like a sword piercing into my chest. My heart pounded relentlessly. After a few stunned moments, I rushed toward the landlord’s house. Guards stopped me at the gate. “I want to meet Schaline! Tell her Semnor has finally arrived,” I cried.

Ramus, the landlord’s son, a man who knew the story, came out. He smiled as he saw me quarreling with the guards. “Hey, why are you making a scene here? Schaline no longer loves you. She is mine now.”

I shouted, “I don’t believe it! You and her selfish father forced her to do this! I know she would never have done that!”

Ramus signaled a guard. “Go tell my princess to come here and tell Semnor herself whether she was forced into this marriage.”

I froze. The guard went inside and returned moments later with Schaline. “I tried to approach her, but the guard held me back.”

“Schaline, who forced you?” I cried out. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll make everything right!”

Before I could finish, Schaline spoke, her voice flat and distant. “Semnor, please don’t cause trouble. My father and I have lived in poverty all our lives. Ramus’s proposal was a blessing. I didn’t believe you’d earn the gold, so I accepted his offer.”

The atmosphere went dead silent. Then came Schaline’s final words, like a blade twisting in his body: “I am very happy with Ramus. It is a dream come true for me. It is better that you leave this place and never come back.”

With that, Ramus and Schaline turned and walked back into the castle, their arms entwined.

The guards shoved me to the ground, “Leave this place now!”

My entire world shattered. I rushed to my own home and tried to enter, but my father stood at the door.

“How dare you come here?” he roared.

“I just want to see my mother,” I pleaded politely.

She appeared, tears streaming, but his glare froze her. ‘This house is not yours,’ he said. ‘To us, you are dead.’

Semnor’s eyes darkened. “I walked away into the night. My heart was ashes. I had lost love, home, and name. I wandered for days without food or sleep, until I reached the edge of the Black Forest – the last barrier to the Cursed North. I wanted to die. The North was the only place left for me.”

The Journey into the North

He exhaled slowly, “For a fleeting moment, I glanced back, searching for a ghost of Schaline. But then I crossed the forest and stepped onto the cursed soil of the North. And I never looked back again.”

Semnor fell silent. The air between them grew heavy.

Saaron, who had been rapt with attention, finally whispered. “So, you entered the North?”

Semnor nodded simply. “Yes.”

“What happened next?” Saaron asked.

“I never stopped moving,” Semnor recalled. “I traveled deep into the North for months. But it was strange – I saw nothing dark or mysterious.”

His eyes gleamed faintly. “One day, I found a valley of waterfalls so magnificent I could not leave. I built my house there and started living. I lived thirty years of my life there, exploring every bit of it. I came to know the rivers, the rocks, the hills, and… the dragons.”

The Stranger’s Secret

Saaron interrupted with a gasp of awe. “Dragons? They truly exist?”

Semnor replied with a slight smile. “Yes, they do. I saw them frequently, circling the North’s skies. But they never harmed me. I remained surprised by their tolerance.”

“That’s strange,” Saaron admitted. “But tell me, why have you come here?”

“That is what surprised me,” Semnor confessed. “A few days ago, I decided to explore farther into the North. I reached a place that was misty and felt divine. I saw a cave in the rock face, and a dim light was visible from within.”

He paused, “I thought I should explore it. I entered and saw the cave was empty, but a fire was lit. Then I saw a passage at the end.”

“A cave inside a cave?” Saaron murmured.

“You could call it that,” Semnor said. “I entered, and then everything suddenly changed in front of my eyes. In the blink of an eye, I was standing there.” He pointed toward some distant trees. “Then I saw you sitting here, and I came to you.”

Suddenly, Semnor stood up. “Oh, I understand it now.” He turned and ran toward the spot from which he had emerged. Saaron followed, shouting after him. Semnor fumbled in his pocket and pulled out something that was lighting up. He rushed into the trees. Saaron reached the edge just as a huge light erupted from the trees.

The Lost Wanderer

The light lasted for a few moments, and when it vanished, Saaron entered the trees, desperately searching for Semnor. He searched until evening, but the man was gone.

Saaron turned to his grandson, his face etched with wonder and lingering confusion. “I never saw him again in my entire life. Maybe he went back to the North.”

“I never truly understood who he was,” Saaron admitted, shaking his head.

“A lover… a traveler… a magician…”

Author’s Note: The Legends Continue…

This story is a glimpse into the forgotten legends surrounding Semnor and the mysterious land of Lana Shumul Ard – tales that echo through the ages in my upcoming novel series.

If you wish to unveil the full truth behind these legends, stay tuned – the journey begins this winter.

FAQs

What is the Cursed Land of the North?

The Cursed Land of the North, or Lana Shumul Ard, is a mysterious realm whispered about in old legends. It’s said to lie beyond the reach of men, a place where sunlight fades and shadows never end. Few have ever seen it, and those who did were never the same again.

Who is Semnor?

Semnor is the heart of this tale… a man once full of dreams, love, and defiance. Cast out by his family and betrayed by the woman he adored, he wanders into the forbidden North, where fate reshapes him into something far greater than he ever imagined.

Why did Semnor leave his home?

Semnor’s exile wasn’t by choice. He turned away from his father’s wishes to become a warrior and instead chose love over honor. That decision cost him everything- his family, his pride, and his place in the world.

What happened between Semnor and Schaline?

Their love began with hope and ended in heartbreak. Semnor worked for months to earn gold for their marriage, only to return and find Schaline wed to another man. Her betrayal became the wound that pushed him toward the North and into legend.

What did Semnor find in the North?

What he found was not the cursed wasteland the world feared. The North was raw, untamed, and hauntingly beautiful filled with waterfalls, valleys, and creatures thought long extinct. It was there Semnor lived for decades, learning the truth hidden behind the myths.

Are dragons real in this story?

Yes, they are and they’re not the monsters people imagine. Semnor often saw dragons soaring across the northern skies, majestic and free. They never attacked him; they seemed almost to accept him, as if he too had become part of that ancient world.

How did Semnor return from the North?

His return remains a mystery even to him. After entering a glowing cave deep within the northern mountains, he found himself suddenly standing near Saaron’s village as though time and space had folded upon themselves.

Who are Saaron and Samar?

Saaron is an aging storyteller from the village of Rimige, known for his deep voice and countless tales. Samar is his curious grandson, always hungry for stories about the world beyond their borders. It’s through their quiet evening talk that Semnor’s story comes to life.

What role does the Shamghar River play in the tale?

The Shamghar River is more than a setting, it’s a threshold. It’s where the ordinary world meets the extraordinary, where Saaron first meets Semnor and hears a story that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Is “The Tale of Semnor” connected to a larger world or series?

Yes. This story is only the beginning, a single thread in a tapestry of ancient myths surrounding Lana Shumul Ard. The full saga will unfold in the upcoming novel series, where the secrets of the North will finally be revealed.