The night had come alive with a commotion by the gates of Obaka. Jora watched the mob crowd its way through the gates. Gatemasters shouted at them in the torchlight. But they couldn't quell the disorder.
In ordinary times, Jora would welcome the swelling masses of people, as they meant more customers to buy his fruits. But with the way things had been lately, it only added to the fear in his belly. He set his cart down and watched people stream down the street between the pillars of the city.
"Are they still coming in?" a familiar voice said next to him. Jora turned to see Darin, a trusted friend, come beside him.
"They are," Jora told him.
Jora had already known about the vast migration of people away from cities destroyed by the three-headed dragon. Many came from Mu, a continent that had seen the savage storms wrought by the dragon.
The dragon's name was Ghidorah. In the past turn of the moon, Jora had heard nothing but news about him. He had killed many Titans, including Gojira. After that, Ghidorah had unleashed numerous plagues upon men across the world. From Klephis to Lua, millions had suffered. The stories had been horrific. Villages had been washed away. Entire kingdoms had been burned to the ground. Flocks of birds and swarms of insects had reportedly gone mad or fallen from the sky. The Brakar Empire had plunged into civil war. On the faraway islands of Lemuria, rivers were said to run red with the blood of Titans slain by Ghidorah.
Even here, he heard the thunder of Ghidorah's storms from miles away.
He had seen the island chain built up by the bleeding of volcanoes not long ago. He has watched them die, swallowed by the Stranger's storm.
The current carried his battered body. The water moved through him as he moved through it.
Now, from the deeper reaches of the sea he extends his weary senses. Before, he heard the song of the ocean wherever he went. Some swimmers chirped, other swimmers sang, and schools of fish whirled through the various currents. Magma rivers beneath the earth flowed with a pulse as even as his own. For so long this has been the usual order of things. But the world has changed.
Now, the songs of the ocean draw away from the place of his latest battle. The only sound that can be heard over the lifeless currents is the hymn of the Stranger. The flapping of oppressive wings sends winds spiraling free of their usual paths. He feels the cold ends of the world fill with a foul heat. The hot corners of the world swell and decay as the storm clouds cover them.
His territory still remains, a compulsion that leads him to defend against the three headed enemy before its song becomes the only song in existence.
He swims on, searching for his den. He wants to chase the Stranger, find it before it can extinguish more life from his territory. But his wounds are too great. His warmth pours from his flesh through these bloody wounds, escaping into the sea. A few of the dorsal plates near his tail remain as jagged and feeble stumps. He must gather his strength before facing this new enemy again. His compulsion drives him to swim as surely as the sun drives plants to rise.
The enemy's thunder draws away. He feels the storm spread across the face of his territory like an infection. The infection sinks into his blood and saps the sea of its strength. The clouds swirl around the Stranger as it flies. The black tempest slashes his scales and tears great holes in any land in the enemy's path.
Worse yet, the Stranger no longer flies alone.
One of the feathered serpents soars alongside it. Below it, an Other bellows with the storm's thunder, having come from the ancient hollows. This armored one exerts the Stranger's authority. Its calls rouse many Others from their places. The hot breath of the sky, buffeted by the enemy's wings, blows down over his scales from the direction of a lush forest in the northeast. He knows a parasite sleeps there.
The world's current carries him through the freezing darkness. He swims past the reefs of the night and past all the deep dwelling little ones. He sinks deep out of the reach of light. The entrance into the world beneath the world ventures closer. The half-sleep caresses his tissues and bones as it flows into him. The fetid yet fresh smell of the underworld pours from the ragged mouth of the tunnel. The current pulls him into it. He breathes and the current's renewed strength pulls into him. It twists and turns one way, and he flows with it. The warmth reaches him just before the sea slows down.
As he enters the hollow bones of the earth, the warmth becomes warmer. It eventually blossoms into heat and begins to nourish him. He swims among the rocks, the stone that never changes. The half-sleep scratches at him in its determination to take him. Just this once he fights it off. The earth will need him soon. Sleep cannot come now. From here, he listens. He hears the enemy's song replace the melody of yet another forest. He tastes the foul ashes of the once lush jungle as they pollute a river.
He listens to the feathered serpent's cry of mourning. Its consort is dead. Killed by the enemy. Another makes no sound but he hears her as well. She walks on six prickly legs and feeds on the chaos. He listens to the Stranger wake up one of the parasites. The three shrieks come, carrying one demand. To submit and follow.
He hears it all not through his ears, but through his bones. The Stranger clicks and whistles, communicating to the parasite with its foreign tones. The parasite hesitates. It groans back at Stranger in its scratchy voice. In reply, the enemy chirps in three high pitched voices. After much communication the parasite submits and follows, a new addition to the enemy's pack.
He comes to rest on the seafloor. The warmth seeps into every crack of his burned hide. He feels one of the Others in the sea. It comes through a crevice in the ocean floor far away. More of them rise from their places, lured up by the commotion above. He hears the Feline, the Elder, and the Tusked Forest Guardian. The Stranger's storm hasn't reached them yet. He extends his senses deeper below. The ancient enemies remain where they should be.
Only now that he is home does he allow himself to sleep. His body goes still as he lets the warmth around him lull him into darkness. He refuses to wake again until he heals.