Howdy folks. (Whomever you are. Not like I have a following to begin with anyway)

Yes I'm still alive. No I haven't killed myself (yet) lol

After what I think I can describe as 7 months in the making I finally released this fucking story. You're probably wondering "Frosty, what the flying fuck took so long, you petrol-sniffing drongo?"

Well the answer to that is pretty complicated;

-One was mainly due to burnout, as I had been writing pages upon pages to get this thing out. 22 pages in total BTW, by far my longest one yet. I hope it doesn't feel too draggy and long winded.

-Another was actually due to story structure. I didn't/couldn't figure out what or how I wanted which ways the story beats would go. Big thanks to Shadowblade217 for giving me some suggestions to sort me out on a couple of things. Thanks mate :D

-And the final reason why this took a while was because... I went down into a dark place and resorted to things like self-harm and suicidal episodes. I think that's about as far as I want to go with that.

This story features an OC I had created for the sole purpose of this story. I figure with the direction I'm going with this AU of the Monsterverse I think the character worked well in his own way. I hope you enjoy that :D

This story, unlike my previous one, doesn't feature any high-impact violence or very adult themes. Given the main character featured in this and the nature of their persona in most depictions, I don't think it would've made a lick of sense or appropriate to put that stuff in anyways XD

P.S Now in this story there is also an inside joke I had made with a fellow author. The reason for this was to get back at them for doing the same for me in one of their projects. Think of it as a "gotcha back!" joke. To that person who I know will be reading this, you know who you are. I hope you have some fun, mmwahahahaha! :D

7 months in the making. For what it is, it's here :)

Cometh the Heavens

-Angelic Herald Guardian of Paradise-

(A Godzilla Fanfiction)

Among a realm of unknown wonders and magic, where gods and titans reside on the soil, Man has felt an ever present void of fear. Fear of all kinds. Of other creatures, lands and distances or even themselves. But to truly understand what frightens even the most stout of Man, is to acknowledge the unknown. What belies the existence of reality? What is there beyond the physical? Of life? Should death truly be the final unknown for all that walk and breathe? Or is there another life that awaits us all? Indeed, that very fear of the great unknown is what truly terrifies the hearts of Man.

But not all of those unknown to them are horrors of great dread. Some among the creatures of the world, may even find peace and harmony with the notion and understand their place among the Earth Allmother's world. Heaven and paradise is seen very differently to all her children. Even Man has their own philosophies of what could truly be Paradise. But there are those few among Man that have even lived it.

Beyond the realm of the seas and great water, away from the lands of common to all, belies this fear of uncertainty. And there within its borders is a kingdom of harmony. A realm where one, be they man or beast, would come to call paradise. A place where fear is but an afterthought. The largest and greatest continents of the world held such a place within the eastern fringes. Safeguarded by the largest, longest and eldest of mountain ranges and cliffs in all the Allmother's very world, the majestic Himalayas. Where the skies rained water drops, frozen yet as light as a feather and softer than sand, and covered the great terrain in a sheet of white. For one to reach these fabled lands, they must traverse upon the ancient road, built of carven stone along the vast mountain ranges by those that lived thousands of years before them. Few who sought to make the pilgrimage have made it there, for this road would hang perilously on the narrowest cliffside and steepest and sharpest of mountain rock. The frozen tundras and walls of ice would prove to be the greatest challenge to the most hardened of travellers. But should one overcome these obstacles they will find themselves at the entrance to a tunnel, the throat of the final mountain. There one would find smooth wide halls, as if artificially tunnelled. The end of the tunnel will take them to the end of their journey, The Dragon's Great Maw. A great dividing ravine where a large deep blue lake separates the end of the mountain range to the borders of the fabled lands. And upon that spot, the eyes of Man are beholden to the greatest sight of astonishing scenery and architecture, right in front of him.

A great wall, artificially constructed through stonework but taller than any in all of the common civilizations of Man. As if carved from the very mountain range where it stood, the wall stood as high as the tallest peak. Its masonry, smooth and refined, and its battlements, fortified and garrisoned. Tall towers serving as lookout points and holding zones, largely protrude from the wall But behind these great defences lay the treasured heart of legend. The treasure that rewards all that make the pilgrimage here.

A large valley, safeguarded by surrounding imposing mountains painted by all kinds of vibrant colours in contrast to the mountains grey. Where no snow or ice falls from the boundless sky. Where the radiant sun burns bright during the day and where the countless stars of the cosmos glow at night illuminate the cloak of darkness. Lush bright green vegetation of trees ripe with bright leaves and colourful flowers lay amok. And grass soft as snow and greener than any other found on the Allmother's good Earth. Rivers divide the heavenly land of pure untainted blue. Water sweeter than the freshest of rain, filled with plentiful aquatic life. Fish wearing scales of gold and pearl white, so bright and shining that one may be forgiven to mistake them for stars. The rivers gather and form together into a large lake, where a city of ancient Buddhist-Tibetan architecture made of the strongest of mountain stone and terracotta, lies above at the heart and centre of the land. Filled with the thousand herds of Man, most born native here and others travelled from the surrounding provinces. This place bore many names among the many tongues of Man;

Elysium,

Pure Land,

Tian,

Takamagahara,

Shangri-La,

But of all these names there is one that is commonly uttered among men and beasts.

"Shambhala."

A realm thought to be a myth by the rest of the world. A story, told in legend spoken by common folk within their communities, by the warmth of hearth fires, the halls of mass gatherings or to the children before their passage of sleep. Those that make the pilgrimage and arrive in good health are rewarded by its majesty and the knowledge of its existence being true. Furthermore, those very same folk are even rewarded an offering as an eternal resident of the land, should they renounce their previous life and luxury and resume a new one upon the path of enlightenment. Those that come with intentions to cause harm with power and conquest in mind, are doomed to the fate of Shambhalii punishment. Despite its apparent appearance of a harmonic lifestyle and culture, the realm is not without its own security.

Therein upon the outer walls that are carved and built from the very Himalayan mountains they stand on, lay the garrison of vast numbers of guardians. Warrior monks, those that have made their oaths to protect their way of life. Clad in thick robes made of the finest silks. Shall their heads be properly clean shaven of hair, and thus revealing their smooth bald skin. Gathered in large organised groups either performing the meditation practices of the mind or taking classes in honing the finest of martial arts. While others remain ever vigilant atop the battlements and would rather keep a steady eye toward the borders. But these warrior monks only make but a meagre fraction to the primary militant forces that safeguard these heavenly lands. This place is home to many denizens of all walks of life and not only those belonging to Man. Creatures of plenty common and plenty odd, take their residence here. For some these creatures have, too, made their own oaths to offer defence. Standing among the warrior monks and overseeing the sentry duties with large forms twice the size of a man. Wrapped in a natural sheet of thick, woolly fur, coloured of shades of white and grey. Its head is adorned with large twisting horns like that of a bull goat, a ram. Sharp fangs and tusks for teeth complete their maw with thick noses of wide nostrils capable of astute smell. Sharp bright eyes capable of piercing the veil of even but the harshest of howling storming blizzards. Legs thick like the strongest of pillars support their large well built torso and powerful arms larger than any mortal among Man, with sharp claws shaped like arrowheads equipped at the end of their digits.

The Yeti.

Legendary ancient and probably the most fearsome guardian warriors to walk on land. Beasts of marvellous strength and stature and native to the Himalayan territories. It is said by many that they were the first to arrive and discover the Pure Land upon its harmonic creation millennia ago. Where its creator had said to have brought the heavens and earth together into one.

The realm and its ancient Keeper had openly welcomed the Yeti as its first host of travelled compatriots and upon doing so they made their oaths to protect its sacred tranquillity. But they were limited to the earth. Its eternal skies however remain beneath the safeguard of the first ones that had emerged natively from this Shambhala itself. Underneath the ever present watchful eye of the holy sky serpents.

Dragons.

Great ancient serpentine creatures thought to be mere myths and make believe to most of the common folk of lands below. These fearsome guardians are revered by all who live in the Pure Lands and beyond towards the Far East. Seen by those that lived there as less than monsters, like those of the west, and more like angelic demigods. Wyrms of great power that are to be respected. Scales stronger than any armour forged by Man, clad atop the skin of their elongated bodies. Limbs supported with fine toned muscles and fine curved talons like swords. Manes well groomed behind their heads and below their long chins. And their eyes, deep and piercing like the hottest of flames. How they fly is not known, for they do not wield powerful wings like their fire breathing kin on the Western Realms. Perhaps blessed are they, by the Wind God one would assume. A gifted trait perhaps they had simply acquired from their greater predecessor.

Several draconic wyrms glide through the air like a fish through water. As others perch themselves upon the watchtowers and the very walls.

While it is true that violence is a concept that many of the realm's culture, and those like it, would very much prefer to abstain from partaking in. For such an act is seen by many as a great transgression and would prefer to engage in the acts of peace, learning, artistry and music. Nonetheless, the inhabitants have understood long ago that such necessities must take hold in the face of those that seek to undo their aforementioned cultural norms. Within and away from the outer walls do the peaceful residents reside. Those that have chosen not to hold any weapon nor oath to defence and would rather live the life of harvest, homebuilding, garment making and spiritual teaching. The people of Man that live here have made themselves content with their otherworldly neighbours.

Among the wide and vast valley and within the lowlands lay great fields of crops ripe for harvest. Therein be the farmers, gathered to perform their day's work of collecting precious foods. Ankle deep in muddy water and among the discomfort of flying insects, a farmer, straw hat upon his head and accompanied by his wife and fellow family members, perform such a harvest. Pulling the grains of rice from within their paddy. Another family tends to harvest leek, spring onion and cabbage within crops of their own. As such on the other side upon another farm where a man does his work. Using a sharpened blade to cut tall stalks of sugarcane. Next door to him is yet another farm belonging to a smaller family. Here a boy in his early decade, dressed in simple clothing with a hat of straw upon head, ploughs a field with a device carried by the end of a pair of cattle to prepare another harvest in soaked mud, thick and heavy. Riding atop a large beast of burden, his father does the same. A great giant water buffalo larger than any barn stomps and ploughs through the large muddied paddy. Splashes of mud and water with every step of its large hooved feet. Attached to the behemoth's back is a device built of wood and metal with articulate contraption. Collecting significant amounts of fresh rice, too big and hefty for smaller cattle to carry. One may be forgiven to mistake them for living, lumbering islands. As these juggernauts take residence in their preferred home of bodied waters big. And though these monsters have seen their use in battle, for they perform with terrifying unstoppable fury. Their use here however is much to their preference. To poison the mind of these beasts with sicknesses ripe of stress and anxieties would be but a poor choice. As proven in battles and the dread such a commotion brings.

Friendly and tame, such is the nature of these animals. But deadly they can be, should they be provoked. But to use one for purposes like harvest is quite simple should the individual inquire kind permission to use its majesty. For these farms are blessed by the deep magic of the Valley itself with eternal and everlasting fertility. Allowing an endless supply of food to be grown. Much to the happiness of those that dwell here. And the chagrin of those that dwell within lands of famine.

Many have tried to besiege the Pure Land for this very notion. But very few have even succeeded in finding it. Conquerors of age have journeyed far and wide to search for the legend of the so-called Shangri-La but none have been successful to complete the task. And the loss of their numbers within their armies had broken that drive to search for it. None would dare to risk losing an entire force to the unforgivable tundras and steep ranges to search for a place very many believe to not even exist.

Away from the farmlands and further towards the centre wherein the great ancient city stood above the deep open lake surrounding it, and the rivers that travelled to and from it. There lies the epicentre of the populace. Within the town centre held its primary marketplace and rifte with crowds of the populace. The herds of Man wore but simple clothing. Silken robes like blankets wrapped around their bodies as do tunics and short leggings of similar make. Some walk the cities topless with sarong, skirt-like garments with patterned calligraphy of batik style, to cover their legs. Typically the males who take to vendor cookery and craftsmanship.

Women tend to make such fine art within their stalls on the streets. Within one is a lady, well within her elder years with canting tools in hand, delicately applying hot waxen liquid onto the silken fabric. Her touch, acute and precise. By her side rests the plentiful pile of completed sarongs, curtains and wall cloth. A symbol of her effort. Such art and craft emerged from the land of Java, far beyond the boundaries of the spiritual realm. But with the arrival of new pilgrims and with trade ripe within the dynasties and kingdoms of the Far East, too comes the arrival of vast knowledge for such artistry. A symbol of cultures becoming expressed and intertwined.

Within the surrounding homes and temples of fine mountain masonry and architecture, lay the monuments to many significant deities, figures and sacred icons treasured by the many cultures and practices among Man. Statues of Buddha himself, the great sage and the enlightened one were among them. As monuments to Krishna and Izanagi were erected too. Erected in key locations were these shrines about as were they Held in structures accustomed and proper to their architectural origins, as were the distinctive followers that pray to those very shrines. Home to many religions was the Far East and with it Man's tribal instinct to spite for one another, should one tribe put their service to one pantheon over another.

Here in this sacred Shambhala however, such tribalistic ire was not evident. There were no rival schools of orthodoxy that took precedence. Here only peace and love and sanctity remained. For the citizens of this spiritual place, despite emerging from different corners of the Allmother's Earth, have come to understand the importance of The Balance, an ancient concept in which the very Titans of the Pantheon all come to honour. Be they from the path of Hinduism, Buddhism or Shinto faith, all have cast aside their malice for religious superiority for the sake of The Balance through cooperation and understanding. There was a fourth path of faith far more ancient than the others, that a particular tribe has remained devoted to. This tribe of Man honours the founding of the and is rewarded with luminous nobility and wisdom through the mutual worship of The Balance, and towards the patron deity of the Valley itself.

Like other kingdoms, be it the empires of the Mediterranean or the deep coves of the deep sea Ecumene belonging to the God-King himself. This place too was under the protection of a patron divinity. One so significant, that it would be among the ruling hierarchy of the great pantheon of titanic gods that walk the very earth.

Engraved into the gold plated wall within the end of the halls of the central great temple, a structure of great prominence located at the centre of the city, laid the image of a dragon and below it, a moth.

Not a mere insect, whose size is all but insignificant to even the most common of Man. But a large and powerful creature of unknown divine origin. Its body said to be taller than the trees and wings as wide as the sky itself. An angelic herald guardian of paradise…

Cold water falls from where the river meets the cliff and within lies a deep cave. There is a great assembly of Man folk that gather here. Spiritual and religious to the bone, their shared faith in their minds. Dressed in regal clothing, male and female alike. Surrounding, do the herds of Man come gathered towards a most holy and great sight. Oval in appearance, massive and wide beyond even the largest Man-made living quarter. 'Twas a cocoon but vastly larger than any made by the mere common insect. It's surface, texture wet and sticky like the silk of a spider's web and yet smooth and soft like the surface of a moss laden stone. non-static is its form, pulsing and beating up and down much like the heart of a being. Cased within its silken confines is its resident. Its power and presence filled the very room with a weight of a thousand Man-folk, as the air itself filled ripe with the essence of harmonic energies, lifegiving with pure rejuvenating quality beyond anything what the outside world would give. Whatever rested from within this most fertile cocoon, it had managed to produce quite a most magnanimous atmosphere.

The form from within the cocoon began to jerk and contort. The silken shelling stretched and pulled to its limits. Audible to the ears of those many present. Upon the first cracks was a sound of gases passing, its smell was unfound, not toxic or unappealing but rather curious and addictive, as if the release had already provided the energy dense air with more life giving natural energies.

Sprouting forth from the openings of the shell like the green growth from the soil do sharp thorn-like legs come forth. Large legs, long and sharp like spears, armoured of chitin plating stronger than even the most resilient of armour forged by Man. Soon followed by the large wings' emergence. Divine and sacred and detailed with natural artistry like tapestry, upon their very fibre with the image of bright red eyes of her fellow pantheon leader at their tips. Eventually all the silken shelling of the cocoon fell apart and her final metamorphosis final and complete. Her large slender, and masterfully crafted full figure of a true goddess was exposed to all. Eyes, pure and blue like the skies and oceans opened wide. Their luminescence gave her already most holy appearance a powerful enhancement of wonder and marvel. Her body channelled with pure energy, illuminating her very being, throughout her meridian system and chakra paths. A concept that exists in all physical beings, be they man, flora or titan.

Her majesty stood in a cavern of rituals. Surrounded by life. Ripe vines and flowering plants, insects of all types, colours, shapes and sizes. Her eyes widened with the glow of azure blue like the crystal ocean waters, tideless and undisturbed, on a cloudless blue sky, her vision revealed the image before her. Gathered around are the tiny ones belonging to the order of Man, dressed in the colours and trappings reminiscent of her visage. Her most precious followers of her worship were these tiny ones. Dressed in sacred, regal cloaks of the finest of silk and cloth. Her two most chief of worshippers stood before the rest of them. The Twin Priestesses, the Sisters of the Moth or so they were called in their tongue, sang the hymn to honour her sacred divinity as they kneeled in her presence. The lesser priests and holy servants organised in a curved fine line just behind the Twins. In their hands they carry large plates with all kinds of offerings. Gifts of appreciation pledged to her divine majesty out of respect. Offerings of elegant pottery, silk, flowers and food.

Love filled her heart at the sight of these tiny ones with their offerings of devotion to her. Her wings lightly flowed back and forth, and bright dust like stars of the cosmos fell like the wayward flakes of snow of winter's morn. This was a display of her most gracious favour. A kind gesture of her happy appreciation made manifest. The spirits of the Man-folk were very much most enamoured by her gracious divine beauty and her kind gestures to them. They made sure to never disappoint her. For she is their guardian. Their mother of providence.

She, with grace and clarity, accepted the offerings of food and drink, into her maw. The taste of flavours, all rich and subtle, fell upon her tongue and into her mind. She could identify each and every ingredient used in their cookery and drinkery. Herbal and medicinal in one meal and drink. Spice and earthy fragrances in another. The Tiny-Ones around her began their ceremonial dances with masterful practice and choreographed graceful movements like that of the water and air. Voices of the chanting minstrels sang her music in accordance with their rituals. The lyrics of the compositions sang of their utter devotion to her.

Approaching her large form was a couple. Youthful in their years, mind and heart. She focused her vision onto the pair and noticed that the young female had something in her arms, wrapped in cloth. An offering? She thought, only to be surprised by what lay underneath those cloth coverings which were slightly removed by the female. Held in her arms was an infant Man-cub. A newborn soul, into a great and vast world of both beauty and horror. Solemn warmth and an instinct of maternal origin fueled her. She loved the site of newborn creatures, be they Man or otherwise, for they were the utmost purity of innocence.

Leaning her fur covered head forth towards the couple as they came to a stop and knelt down, placing their offspring before her. She understood what they asked for; This child was to receive the blessing of the Goddess. A blessing in which she would gladly offer with all the kindness in her heart.

Her long antennae adorned to the top of her head sprouted downward towards the offspring. Slightly touching the tiny thing with great care as the Goddess' very own maternal instincts taking hold of her. Such a tiny and delicate little thing. Lighting like the full moon did her antennae begin, bright blue and gold surging through the appendages. Soon the shimmering dust of pure energy, like starlight, slowly fell from the ends of the soft antennae and upon the tiny newborn. As if it were the snow from the cold winter clouds.

The child slowly opened his little eyes, and upon his youthful vision did he see the large graceful holy form of the Goddess-Queen. Her large bright blue eyes illuminating into his tiny newborn soul. Though he may not remember this day, she forever will. Blessed is this child by her will, a sign of a vow; She will protect him in life and his dreams so long as he lives.

Moments passed and once the rituals were complete she made her way throughout the chambers of her temple. Emerging outside she took to the skies and let the winds of the land guide her towards her chosen destination. Flying above the wide farmlands, paying a visit to those that fed the realm. She hovered gracefully above the agricultural lands and the abodes of the farmers who all emerged and looked to her grace. Bowing and singing their gleeful prayers directly to her. All happily declaring her return from her long metamorphosis period. She flapped her wings and came forth the shards of energy dust, falling upon those mortals like snow. A sign of her favour to them for all their labour intensive efforts in order to provide food to all that live in the Pure Land.

Eventually her wings took her across the city and residential settlements of this Shangri-La. Earnest 'twas she when she took the time to greet the many many denizens of Paradise. The herds of large water buffalo and towering yak, the mass assortments of the citizens, Yeti and Monks and even the Dragons that flew above, those of her fine and loyal Guardian Caste, the warriors of the land came to honour her presence. She was ever thankful to them, in her absence they always ensured to keep the peace and defence of this most sacred realm.

Soon finding herself at the main entrance of the main palace. Her most elite and powerful Yeti warriors stood by its entrance and upon seeing her, knelt and bowed before her divine majesty. She returned the gesture and bowed back to them, before entering the temple as the prayers and chants of her people filled her ears.

She found herself in the palace's main chambers and looked towards the walls of the temple, filled with scriptures, paintings and engravings. Each telling a tale of the past, present and even the future.

Like her fellow Pantheon members she too was subject to folklore and myth. The tiny ones of Man would tell many tales to one another. Some were formed on the basis of truth and what had been done before. Others were told with mere false premises and were composed of events she had not actually partook or even happened to begin with.

There were tales in which she would conquer and pillage other territories belonging to the other Gods and Titans, while slaughtering the latter parties completely. Then there were others that told that she had partook in depraved sexual acts with many members among the divine pantheon. She was no warmonger nor was she a lustful creature. Both were practises that she detested with such prime affirmation. Her experience upon hearing such terrible myths left her both frustrated and rather embarrassed.

Such was the result of one myth she recalled herself being a part of; One of her followers that had lived in this Shambhala had been responsible for the forgery of a rather intrepid and abysmal mythical tale. The Shambhalii bees were about as large as a hound, perhaps their size was a result of the very deep energies that enveloped the land, as it could explain their rather incredible intelligence. Nonetheless this follower of hers was a queen of a hive and as such provided the production of precious honey, a life giving elixir to the citizens of the pure land.

However this Shambhalii queen bee was as effective in her work as she was with her talent for sharing tales and creating poems in acts of 'respect' to her greater Goddess-Queen. One such poem however would be a grave mistake for the little fool. The poem had told a tale, wherein the Goddess-Queen had relations and desires of lust, pleasure and even love with the barbaric Phoenix of Battle, of all the gods in the Titan Pantheon. The story even went so far to describe that she even fell in love with the God of War! Even laying and performing sexual acts with that beast, and in doing so, permanently destroyed her God-King by shattering his heart whom she was already bonded with.

It is not often that the Goddess-Queen was offended, but this story did little more than to brighten her days. To think she would open her legs and offer her body and heart to that insane War God like a common whore. To fall in love with such a violent beast of chaos. What's worse, it was an affair of betrayal to the loyalty and love she held to her God-King. She had lived for aeons and held a vast knowledge of wisdom to understand right from wrong when it comes to relations. It's impossible for her to fall for any so-called charms that heinous creature could ever hope to give her. The notion didn't help when the tale had amassed a following, though very much divisive amongst her subjects. Such a commotion led to her hidden embarrassment.

At the time upon the hearing of such a ridiculous poem, the Divine Moth had made her way towards the hive of bees within the southern parts of the Valley with the intent to confront the poem master herself in response to her rather offended mood. Perhaps a talk of discipline, as a mother would do to her disobedient child would be a necessity followed by an appropriate punishment. Only upon arrival to witness a rather confrontational and shocking scene.

Her elite Yeti commanders of the guard had performed a harsh punishment already by forcefully ripping the wings of the poor foolish creature clean off. Declaring the work as sacrilege to their patron goddess. Her Yeti caught wind of the poem and upon hearing it, were most aggravated. To spread a story that would tarnish and taint their holy goddess' image, as they said themselves, and thus her royal guard launched a brutal arrest upon the poor creature. The fool was stripped of her right to lead as a queen of a hive and publicly humiliated in front of both her fellow bees and Man-folk alike.

She frowned at the memory, for she did not approve of the overaggressive actions of her prime Guardian Caste members and made sure to chastise their terrifying actions. In their defence, they had only done their part to protect her majesty for the story had already spread outside the borders of Shambhala. Such news had greatly upset her. No doubt that cruel God of War had received word of this hubris tale. Though she will not admit it, she did feel some form of example needed to be made. Though as overwhelmingly terrifying as she wished it wasn't for the poor tiny fool.

As much as she detested the obscene poem, for the mortals of Man are gullible foolish creatures and would believe many tall tales. She was in the end a forgiving Goddess and would offer amnesty in return for her tasks of repentance. She would soon heal the wounds of the queen bee with her powers of lifegiving, and return her wings. But the aforementioned bee had been shamed and ridiculed by all, and the Time God would be the one to allocate the required passages before the little fool is returned of respect by her peers.

She shook her head. Her mind cleared of that rather dramatic and ridiculous memory and buried it under much less embarrassing ones.

Looking to other paintings she focused her eyes towards another one, a painting in which the Goddess-Queen stood by a many legged creature and a feathered serpent. Her good allies. Although her relations with the Rainbow Serpent of the Golden Kingdom could be called to question. As much as she honoured her and respected her as a fellow pantheon one, the serpent had rather… Strange and curious ways of living. She even sensed odd stirrings that the serpent had towards her King.

It was no lie that she had a history of rather… strong pleasures of the flesh. Her many children she had created had been proof of that.

Her gaze followed to yet another painting upon which had an image of herself and her God-King delivering might against a Great Ape. The ancient war before Man had even learned to gather food or understand the practise of farming (Neolithic Period). A war that had damaged The Balance and nearly killed the Earth Allmother herself altogether. They came in tribes, did the Great Apes gather, and the bigger ones all rallied behind the strongest of tribes, led by a powerful solitary leader. She remembered the kind of being said leader was, deadly and powerful as he was merciless. His devotion and conviction was unbreakable. Overzealous was his ways and held to the ultimate belief that the Apes were the true and only Alpha species to rule over the rest, that they were cheated by the Allmother who instead chose the great Fire Drakes to safeguard and defend The Balance and all that live in its domain. That the kin of the God-King had robbed them of their right to become the rulers of the very world above any other being. Man or god.

She was young as was he, two kindred spirits sharing one heart and soul. The two of them formed a good friendship with one another. Tending to one another's wounds from the battles of the war or other animals wishing to fill their bellies with food. And keeping one another close during the comforting sleeps of nights or to to share one's warmth to another in the cold rain. Their bond grew ever so strongly with pure trust, loyalty and companionship to one another. Never leaving each other's side and forever more ensuring one another's survival. For the Titanomachy, with all its wrath and ruin it brought to the world, had brought them closer together than before. And made them truly realise that without one another, they were hopeless. That the Earth Allmother herself meant to have their two fates bonded into one and ensure harmony and keep reverence to The Balance.

And the war had torn their world asunder. Despite the great struggle that the Great Apes had put up, their quest for domination had caused strife and mystery among not only the rest of the world but to their very own kind. Tribes of their kin had come to realise their efforts had damaged The Balance and in doing so stabbed the heart of the Allmother, who was sick and dying as a result of their war. Though the ever so arrogant and devious leader of the Apes refused to admit the wrongs. It took all but the courage of a brave young clan leader, who cherished the way of The Balance and its great importance, to challenge the warchief. To finally end the destructive conflict and bring forth an era of rebuilding and harmony in order to restore the Allmother's broken heart and The Balance in full restoration once again.

Or perhaps at least that's how she remembered it.

Those memories though filled with grief and terror had their moments of peace, happiness and pleasure. She felt clarity with the wisdom and experiences she had and learned from during those days. As her heart filled with warmth to those memories she had with her dyadic other. She couldn't be more thankful to the Emperor of the Sea for all his help and kindness. A friend that became irreplaceable within her circle of companionship.

Though despite their bond, they did have their moments of angst.

She remembered one moment where she and her God-King had one such quarrel against one another, during the legacy that forever changed the realm that encircled the Aegean Sea and the land of Greece. What the tiny ones had called, The Trojan War. The great event turned to empirical legend and folklore. She looked to the wall to which the story was told, through written language and painted imagery and calligraphy upon a massive sheet of Xuan paper, finely produced and considerably large to fit even her size in comparison to a tiny mortal. There stood the city of Troy itself as the tongues of Man had called it. However its visage painted upon the paper on the wall didn't do it's real justice. She remembered it well, it was an engineering marvel. One that had even impressed her pantheon leader. Its kingdom held great power over the Mediterranean realm with trade, commerce and arts, reinforced with an abundance of great wealth unseen in any kingdom within those lands. Its towering abodes for the tiny mortals were one thing but its undercity was another story. Below lay a vast network of carved giant halls, laid with brickwork and masonry. There lay the tombs of past kings, heroes and the city's ancestors. And the vaults which kept the seas of gold and silver which enriched the kingdom safe.

Surrounding the city on the painting were the armies of Man gathered before the gates, and standing on either side, a gathering number of among the Titan pantheon had stood either with or against one another. Herself, the good friend of her King, her many-legged friend, even that wicked war god had taken his place to intervene. So long as blood was spilt he didn't care. Though for some reason only strange to her, was that she sensed his concern for the ones called the Thracians that had allied themselves with the greater Trojan tribe…

The tribe of Man-people, the Greeks had set about a great war to the settlement. Even her God-King's most loyal worshippers had allied themselves with the nations of Greece. His Ecumene united to fight by their side. She remembered he was found to be very troubled and conflicted. The settlement of Troy was among the many cultures that had worshipped and honoured him and his idols since its founding. He did not compel himself to be present there throughout the duration of the war, even when his sea empire chose to fight there.

It was only until a disturbance he sensed did he come to end the war himself. The day he arrived was the day that changed many great things. She recalled his shock when he found that the settlement had renounced his worship, destroying his idols and temples and had instead sought the worship of Zeus' Hydra… A thunderous serpent of dark legend, that was written long ago by a greater unknown race of beings. It was said a mighty power would fall from the cosmos and bring rewards to its servants and death and destruction to its enemies should they pledge a blood oath to it. The great golden horror that would eventually bring forth a great deal of ruin upon the world… Both Titans and Man would suffer and the Allmother's domain would plunge into darkness.

Her King was furious upon this revelation, his spirit weeping with sadness and betrayal. He had seen visions of such a dark power arriving to the world from the stars and with it, brought forth only the harrowing horrors. For this, he took the prophetic legend very seriously as he was the guardian to the Allmother's domain. And he would seek all that dare destroy her.

And with a heavy burden laying on his heart, he with his army unleashed their wrath and fury upon the besieged city. The city engulfed into flames and eventually after nights on end, became little more than a charred ruin. Left nothing more than a vast graveyard of a kingdom once devoted to him…

The war left hundreds of thousands slain, both fighter and commoner alike. And the greatest heroes of that era had met their end there. Their lives, their stories turned to unforgettable legends.

But it had become a moment in history in which Man had received the ultimate price for the sake of power out of mere desperate salvation… The old ruins, once a symbol of a powerful nation, serve as little more than a permanent reminder. An example for all cultures of Man to perhaps think twice about betraying a Titan and their breaking oaths to it in favour of darker forces… Even if it's out of a place of merciful kindness, as it were...

She took to saving as many of the tiny mortal ones that had escaped the madness and had become little more than nomads seeking refuge to a new home. Their previous home, now an eternal ruin. He did not approve of this and sought their destruction, believing that they had been tainted by a great evil. But she would not waver, and soon enough the two had met in a glorious battle.

Despite their fights and skirmishes, neither one dared to strike a killing blow. Their symbiosis and the unconditional compassion for one another that came with it prevented them from truly harming one another. Both had understood their roles to play during that war, and though. They forgave and came together once again. Not even the disputes of Man could shatter their bond.

She smiled fondly at that very notion. She hadn't come to have such a warm, powerful and strong relationship since…

By the Allmother, had she almost forgotten? Her attention turned towards the back wall of the chamber. Where upon a golden wall, 'twas the engraving of herself and the other being above her.

And upon that image, did memories of old pour into her mind. She left the palace with haste and travelled towards the largest temple in all the Pure Land, letting the winds carry her with her powerful wings. Built upon the flat plains and erected upwards of pure stone and gold. Perhaps the most sacred place within the sacred lands of Shambhala. The Dragon's Seat as it was once called. There she landed upon the top of the structure. The stairs all meet towards the centre of the altar, where a large relic stood at its centre. The Moth Titan gazed upon the piece, her pure blue eyes like the sky and ocean. It was here where something truly special began for the Goddess-Queen and it would eventually be where it had ended…

This Elysium, though under her protection and patronage, was not always her territory. Though the deep Sacred Rainforest of Yunnan and the Isle of Birth are and will always be, her two most cherished territories as both were home to many of her temples and Man-people. The privilege to safeguard and protect this heavenly spiritual place as its patron goddess, was given to her as an utmost holy gift. The Goddess' was once but merely a student to a greater, wiser and more powerful soul. A dragon, celestial and pure.

Never suffering to the loss of memory, was the dragon's appearance. Large powerful form, longer than the longest river, vaster than the vastest of agricultural lands and taller than the tallest of trees in the Far-Eastern jungles. His strong powerful arms and legs well portioned to his mighty frame as was his powerful head. Adorned with mighty antlers wide and large. Spiralling straight from his skull and forming into a pattern like the graceful trees. Old was his age for his facial features had shown. His eyebrows long and white as was his large mane which had completely covered the base of his neck and travelled below his jaws to the tip of his great maw, flowing downwards and tied into a knot. Forming a well groomed beard. His eyes wide with astounding vision, pupils of pure pearl white and iris of glittering deep blue. And all over his vast majestic body was he blessed with the beauty of shining blue scales like a great thousand gems of sapphire woven together.

He carried a voice so powerful that a simple whisper would split and divide even the thickest of shrouded cloud formations. That it was said his voice had created this holy paradise of Shambhala itself whereupon he sung a song. Its composition gave birth to the grass, rivers, trees, flowers and mountains. And that the open dividing ravine that separates the walls to the end of the path one must journey on, was carved with his very jaws. Hence the location's name.

Like a poem, the legend of the creation was told;

"And on that day, by the will of the Old Dragon, he who came from beyond the celestial voids of the cosmos, 'twas that song was sung. And did emerge aloft like a feather in the wind was Paradise brought forth into being, in the Time Before Time…"

The Old Dragon…. She remembered the name very well.

Azulong The Great. Azulong of the Heavens. Azulong the Azured One. Azulong of the Northern Sky.

One of many names and titles. He fathered all dragons of the Far East Skies. While his siblings harboured the Far Eastern Seas. Different was their very being of nature, were they indeed between him and her. But seldom was his judgement to those of different beings. He welcomed her with love as a father would to a daughter. She could not remember her own parentage and perhaps she never will. For her kind were a unique form of life, finite in number. She among a mere few of her siblings did not know their true origin, but they were of this world. She was the daughter of the very Allmother herself. But that fact alone never abstained from her choice to his offer to father and tutor her. He was a spirit of vast knowledge and wisdom of the most pure. She came to truly love her mentor and the relation she shared with him was truly precious. As was her equally precious and trusted relation to her dyadic symbiotic other.

The great azure dragon had come to know her symbiote. For the memory of the meeting between the Emperor of the Sea and the Holy Dragon of the Northern Sky was one she, or really any other being perhaps more insignificant than her, would ever diminish. It was true that the Celestial Azured one was not from this world, but from the very cosmos above. Naturally her God-King was very weary and defensive upon meeting the old one. She remembered feeling the overwhelming protective instinct that filled Azulong's mind. Yes he was filled with great wisdom and knew better than to judge one wayward soul upon first sight. But it is a father's natural instinct to be protective, even if the mighty dragon knew very well that the God-King was very trustworthy. For he was no fool and understood the importance that was The Balance. And the Allmother's chosen guardian to which he acknowledged long ago. The two of them came to understand one another through the mutual compassion and affection they have for the divine moth.

An open blessing by the passages of his powerful voice would eventually come to fruition. In dark times…

The arrival of the Golden Devil from the mysterious and beyond brought forth the harrowing darkness with it. The world engulfed in turmoil. Gods and Titans fell one by one, whether it was by grace or the hands of death. The Death Song of Three Storms was unforgiving as he was wicked and purest of evil. The Dragon rifte with age had met the winged thunderous hydra and had done a great performance with strife and domination. But his efforts were cut short in his wounding.

The memory of his passing was not one she often liked to reminisce about. Though he died peacefully, it meant that he would no longer walk the Earth or fly its wind and skies.

With his last strength, he had gracefully sliced off one of his antlers with his claws and planted it firmly upon the centre of the altar. Like a tombstone of sorts sprouting tall as if it were a tree. Upon that action his breath, final as it were, escaped his old maw. And his eyes stripped of colour, slowly closed. Peace had filled the holy dragon's pure heart and with it, his very life.

The months following his departure had left the Goddess Queen emotionally distraught. Her twin priestesses would try their best to comfort her, but their attempts were to no good. Even her God-King would come to visit and stay by her side whenever he could. But the war against the great evil did take much precedence.

Time would pass and her grief would soon at last, be faded and overcomed. And when the great cataclysmic war with the Golden Devil had finally ended, the Time God was finally merciful and provided the much needed passages to perform a proper sacred commemoration for the previous dragon god of the Far East.

A 'holiday' as the denizens of Man would call it, would emerge from this tragedy and so "Azulong's Day" shall remain among the Shambhalii calendar.

A great significance shall this holiday be for all and shall be the day when all creatures and beings of this Shangri-La, come together and honour the one that bestowed them this very land.

She felt the emptiness of his presence. Though she had accepted his passing many aeons ago, feelings of bittersweet and sadness will always fill her heart and mind by way of the memories she treasures ever so overwhelmingly. She rubbed and caressed her fur cloaked head against the large sacred relic and recited her prayers to it. Her wings illuminate the bright colours reflecting love and sadness. Directly above it was the final resting place of the great dragon. His spirit forever embedded in the stars which laid above the realm. The constellation of Azulong The Mighty burned bright among the many others that had too, become one with the cosmos. Upon death a dragon's very form dissipates upon the release of their spiritual energy. Wherein that very energy ascends towards the great eternal universe above and thus becomes legend, as a constellation. Forever reminding all children upon the earth that they had left their mark for eternal history.

After spending such significant passages of time, she decided to leave the Temple of Azulong. She spread her great wings and flew towards the deeper parts of the valley. Her mass divine figure ever gracefully glided through the calm air. Spreading her colourful, powerful wings for a brief moment, she with great strength, thrusted them down and accelerated herself with impressive speed. Levitating further and further into the sky, hurling herself like a feather aloft in the wind, until she came at a stop. The entire Shambhala held in her vision. She made her oaths to protect this land and its people from outside forces of the cruel and the wicked.

Should one have the desire and take the vast journey for ultimate enlightenment and harmonic peace, then cometh the heavens shall be for those that seek its refuge. Forever safeguarded under the watchful eyes of the angelic herald guardian of paradise. Her divine majesty…

Memories of long and old continued to play in her dreams. Memories of her first home, her homes in other lands, her followers, her Shangri-La, her Shambhala. Bestowed to her by her father figure. Memories of the celestial dragon that sired her, memories of her pantheon and the members she called friends. Memories of her kin. Memories of her dyadic, symbiotic other. Her God-King.

She felt his presence through her sleep. He had fought a great battle against the forces of terror belonging to the Jinshin-Mushi and for the first time in many centuries, openly revealed himself to the world of Man.

Her visions changed and this time she was alone. She did not know where she was but she felt the aethereal atmosphere and its strange familiarity. Distant shapes and colours of strange blurry form, like they were not clear to her eyes. She knew them to be clouds and mountains if her intuition was to make a guess. But soon a large dark form approached her hovering in the air with large wings, its colour and shape soon became clear. The sharp, jagged ends of the carapace armour plates. The charcoal ashen black colour they carried. The wide wings with natural calligraphy painted onto them much like her own but absent of the eyes of her symbiote. The eyes of red glow as opposed to her blue ones. With immediate recognition she knew what or rather whom, this form was.

Before her lay the visage of her close kin. Or what once was…

"Brother? How is it that you have come here?" She voiced her inquiry of sheer curiosity with pure confusion.

Long has it been since she last saw him. It must've been centuries, even a millenia ago? She couldn't remember but something about this felt oddly familiar, as if she had relieved it before.

"We are siblings, Mosura. Our spirits will always be bonded by blood. No matter how far or perilous our distance is." He seemingly replied to her inquiry. His face showed no emotion of joy or warmth to her. Was this a dream? Perhaps one of lucidity? Or a memory perhaps?

"You do not answer my question Battra. You cannot be here, this is a dream." Demand began to show in her tone. Why is her brother here to see her now? Their last meeting was rife with ire and division, so much so that he left with contempt for her. That had to have been after the end of the War of the Southern Icelands when the Death Song of Three Storms was defeated and casted down to the Underworld.

"But it seems our views upon the blight of this 'Man' creature is not bonded at all." He uttered with a cold delivery.

Needless to say she was confused. "What do you speak about? Why is it that you avoid my questions!?"

"Are we foolish enough to place our faith in them?" He said once more.

Her words fell on deaf ears. It was as if she spoke to a lost spirit or a mere stone wall. This is a memory to be sure, she cannot speak to him as if this was a true occurrence in the world of the awakened. With not but even a choice, she must play her role in the memory.

"No Brother, the race of Man is part of the natural order. It is right that we must protect them as we protect all. It is the will of the Allmother"

He looked back at her, making eye contact. Their contrasting eyes burned into one another. His expression was a strange combination of impassive and sardonic "Your sentimentality to these lowly creatures is much too tiresome dear sister."

"Is it Battra? Or do these words you speak, the mere work of the Golden Devil that has corrupted your mind?" She retorted back.

He sought the destruction of Man for reasons once only peculiar to her. He sided with the Fallen Star during the Second Cataclysm. His distaste for Man was rooted in fear. Fear of what they would become. A fear in which he thought it wise to decree a great warning to her, one that she would remember.

"These lowly simians are of an unwieldy conscience and unpredictability."He said. He turned his head towards the blurry, cloudy realm in the distance, staring out into its wide void.

"Be their quest for greater knowledge and with it, their rapid advancement would soon turn to their folly? Their need to control and conquer that which cannot be so? How long would it be dear sister, until you see what I see? Until Man's evolution goes beyond what we could imagine? Know this, their existence will soon plague this holy world our Allmother gifted to us. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon come a time."

His burning dark red eyes looked back into her bright blue ones.

"And upon that day you will finally learn that your faith in these… 'things' was greatly misplaced."

Those words were the last thing he said to her before his departure to realms unknown. The warning he had uttered still remained in her mind since that fateful day.

"Battra, you would be wise to remember tha-"

Not a moment too soon, he was gone. She was alone in this strange dreamy world she found herself in. She sighed with exasperation and exhaustion.

She loved her brother. She truly did. Once they were a close pair, their companionship bonded by blood. But fate and destiny had caused a rift in their relations. He walked a path in which she could not, one of strife and spire. A result of his founding beliefs of Man. Eventually their paths would meet once again during the incursion of the Death Song of Three Storms in fierce opposition.

Sibling against sibling, blood against blood.

He had placed his allegiance with the winged nightmare, a choice that according to him was a "means to an end, if it meant removing the tainted shame of the Allmother" which he referred to Man by.

Her kind was to be the guardians to all life. She did not want to believe her brother's mad talk of the tiny mortals. She told him back then that his fear was misplaced, that Man dared not go that far for they will always keep to the laws of nature.

Or so she always believed…

The passages of time would follow in her slumber. And the last vision of her brother dissipated as did all that would enter her dreams. Soon she would feel the presence of her Man-people as her metamorphosis was soon coming to an end. That much is true as she felt it within her very being. Eventually things would not be as they usually were. She could not hear the sounds of her tiny ones. Nor the sounds of her two priestesses. Rather the sounds of voices all unbeknownst to her ears. They spoke in one of the many tongues of Man, but not the one she would usually hear.

Unknown and errant was the presence in her chambers. Something was not in accordance. She fears perhaps her followers were in danger, or that these new Man-people may have harmed them.

Her strength returned and using it, she slowly but surely broke free of her bonds. The strong silk that enclosed her egg. Soft and wet vines of silk tore and fell from her wet body as vision came to her bright blue eyes. The chamber of awakening in her Yunnan temple was not as it were. She was not welcomed by her tiny followers of Man. Nor was she welcomed by the angelic hymns sung by her two holy priestesses. In fact they were nowhere to be seen…

Instead she was greeted by faces of Man-folk that she didn't recognize at all. The place itself looked strange. The architecture to her temple was desecrated by this metal and steel that was built on top of her holy palace.

Something was not correct.

She must find her King, dark times are fast approaching. She couldn't understand why but something in her spirit had told her that a great calamity will soon befall the world of Man, and with it, the Earth Allmother herself.

Well, there it is folks. Read and rate it. I offer my thanks to those that take the time out of their day to read this. It had a very troubled development hell.

I'm actually not sure if I'm going to write another one. My goal was to do a Quetzalcoatl story serving as a sequel to the Rodan one I did but given how very little traction this series gets as well as the unreliable release time, the future for these stories is uncertain.