Halua, Raging Leviathan

393 AC - Even from miles away, I can smell it emanating from their pores. A strong, sickly scent that trails behind them in the wake of their flimsy ships, their makeshift crafts. They're just like the others – leeches, parasites, only good for sucking out sap until the shoot shrivels. I watch them gorge themselves, like a swarm of locusts. They land on an island, then dig, erode and devour the red-veined rock until the atoll can no longer fly. They leave a trail of destruction under the clouds, eradicating entire biomes, depriving birds of a nesting site or a stop on their migration. Those humans… They take without giving back, unaware of the devastation they cause. Pests.

How could I have trusted them? They saw me being born. They showed me affection. But that was all a ruse to deceive me. To topple me more easily. And this human tribe is no better than the last one. No, they can't be allowed to land. I need to stop it. So I track them, hidden in the clouds. And I wait, patiently. I wait for a ship to fall behind the others, so I can isolate it from the rest of the herd. So I can break it, reduce it to scrap, drag it down to the bottom. So I can make it disappear, body and soul, with a simple flick of my tail. That's all they deserve. What is it they used to say? "You reap what you sow…" Yes, I'll make sure they get what's coming to them, by unleashing my righteous wrath.

HALUA