Chapter 1:  One Sense at a Time 

 

He saw a great white dragon, the size of a god.  It just went up and up, extending unfathomably high into the dark, cloudless sky above.  There was an all-powerful demonic rhythm of bassy vibrations.  He could not hear it, but his eyes and vision vibrated to the beat.   

Then, a great ripping noise and a scream.  He could suddenly hear the drums and the rhythmic stomping of feet, a sort of eerie music consisting entirely of bassy concussives.  The great white figure in front of him began to shrink.  He could make out a snout and hands, out-stretched as if beseeching the sky, and as tall as any skyscraper.   

There was a crescendo in the bassy rhythm, then another scream.  An iron, sickening smell filled his nose.  He could taste it in his mouth.  The creature in front of him shrank to a height merely five stories tall and a circle of red robed figures just as huge sprung into his awareness, hovering behind the beast that he first called a dragon.  He could make out details, now; the creature was covered in short, white fur.  It had a pink tail that was tied brutally around its own neck.  Its hands were spread out and impaled on a wooden cross and a single drop of blood dripped out of the side of its snout and stained its furry white chin.  It was staring at something over his right shoulder and shivering.   

There was yet another scream, this one sounding more human than the last.  He became aware of a warm breeze against his entire body and the feel of his tongue in his mouth.  He took a deep breath, unsure if it was his first breath or if he had been breathing this whole time and could only now feel it along with the rest of his body.  He became larger; he was aware that the being in front of him wasn't shrinking, but in fact, he was growing.  He could tell because he was finally a size that allowed him to grasp his surroundings; he was in a dim forest, the sun completely occluded by the branches above.  He was now only as tall as the protruding bends of roots of the trees around him.  

The fuzzy white creature came into view in front of him, and he noticed with a start that he was very nearly the same height.  The creature, now quite obviously a white albino rat, seemed just a startled as it noticed him in turn.  Its pink tail was blue and black around its neck, as if it had been broken and damaged.  Its pink, hairless hands were clenching and unclenching around the nails that had been hammered through its palms.  Its hands were strangely human-like, with opposable thumbs.  Its whiskers were longer and more numerous than any Earth animal's and expressed the animal's fear and pain through erratic, rippling, insect-like movements.   

He (what was his name, again?) felt a sudden, insistent pressure on his brain like a headache, as the white, rat-like creature stared into his eyes as if pleading for something.  The pressure on his brain increased, and it felt as if something were trying to communicate with him by blowing air in between his ears.  One of the hooded red-figures, dark blue muzzle poking out from underneath the deep hood, stepped out from his right and, after waiting once more for the rhythm of the drums and stamping feet to reach a crescendo, expertly whipped a wicked looking saber across the albino rat's torso, causing its alien blue guts to spill out on its feet.  At that moment there was a popping sensation and a release of pressure in his mind, followed by an agonizing, mindrending intrusion of chaos.  

The albino rat screamed at him and he screamed back.   His ears were filled with a screeching, squealing, yet human-like scream, while his mind was filled with a wordless, formless, telepathic message, communicating the same thing as that audible scream.  The rat's eyes and guts melted away into white smoke that was sucked into the bare, hard earth between his feet. He grew one more time.  The gory white rat, hopefully no longer screaming, quickly shrank away beneath his feet and he found himself surrounded by a hundred blue squirrels in a chest-deep, bare earth pit, hidden among trees, both vertical and living, and horizontal, hole-ridden, and dead.  He kept screaming. 

 

    Chapter 2: Summoning Complete 

 

She saw a great white dragon, the size of a god.   

"Yes, yeesss!!" screamed Jafaar, Arch-Terramancer of the Bare-Earth Occultists.  His arms were raised in the air in exultation, spittle flecked his age-greyed muzzle, and his normally pitch-black eyes bulged from his face, now glowing the milky-white of the (until now) lost art of Bare-Earth Terramancy.  The white faded back to black as he continued, "I can feel it!  The magic is successful!  Behold the White Dragon, just as I have foretold! The true Dragon of Humanity!"   

"You were right all along, Uncle Jafaar," agreed Twilight, First Princess of the Southern Kingdom of Humanity.  She was carried away by the overwhelming fear and awe that was being Whiskered by the one hundred Occultists all around her, "It's true. Humanity does have a Dragon after all.  The Bare-Earth Tomes must be the true history of Humanity. Uncle, Uncle! This changes everything!"   

She chose to focus on his exultation, to push away the fear she felt, but kept the awe.  This was Jafaar's show, his triumph, which was a triumph for Humanity.  She would do her role in his ritual as he requested and focus on preventing a panic.  It was her people's last hope. The Great White Dragon finally reached its terminal height and Twilight had no trouble keeping that awe coming.  Surely this was the mightiest, largest, most magnificent Dragon to have ever walked the Earth!  Humanity's Dragon!  "Yeessss!" she screamed.   

"Nooooo!!" someone else screamed, "You've doomed us all Jafaar!  It has no whiskers with which to speak!  It is a mindless dark god of destruction that will consume us all!"  Uncontrolled terror started to spread, risking everything. Twilight did her job; she drew her cutlass and pointed it to the weak link in the ritual chain.  The speaker, the man that was Whiskering terror and threatening the ritual, was yanked out of the circle and run through by the blade of the Acolyte that was standing behind him for that reason.  The terror the man was radiating pooled away, along with his blue lifeblood.   

A female occultist in the Cyan robes of an Aerialist boldly strode forward from the crowd, stripping down to her birthday suit of metallic blur fur.  She wrestled the red robe of the dead Terramancer from his corpse, still covered in blood.  Donning the robe, she took the empty spot in the ritual circle and threw her own magical weight in behind Jafaar's spell.  The defector's eyes soon turned milky white as she became attuned to the Terramancy.   

"Look out!"  someone screamed.  The Dragon seemed to stumble, taking a backwards step to steady itself.  There was a crunch, then the crowd backed away to reveal the twitching death throes of the Arch-Aerialist's tail.   

"Brother!"  Twilight wailed. 

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    "Oops," said the Dragon.  Underneath his foot, he had splattered one of the metallic blue creatures.  "Oh, no," he moaned, "Now all these weird squirrels with robes and swords are going to kill me." 

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    "The White Dragon has spoken!"  Jafaar declared.  The fur on his face was matted with sweat.  But his eyes had returned to normal, now that the Summoned had stepped out of the ritual pentagram, choosing to stay in this world and thus end the spell.  "The blasphemy of the Aerialists ends today!  Humanity's Dragon has always been an Earth Dragon!"  Everyone in the crowd took a couple steps away from the Cyan-clad Aerialists.  Several stripped off their robe, abandoning the Occultist faith that had guided Humanity for hundreds of years.  The remainder left their robe on, but bowed in submission, putting their heads and tails to the ground.  They thus declared themselves unwilling to abandon or change their path, that of an Aerialist, but put themselves at the mercy of the judgement of their peers.   

Words that would put Jafaar's freedom, even life, in jeopardy just yesterday, were now accepted without question by all.  The Terramancers, thought of as a mostly academic path that was wastefully obsessed with returning ancient, lost magic instead of refining modern combat magic needed for immediate survival, had jumped from the bottom of the hierarchy of Occultist Paths to the very top. Few, if any, outside the Path of Terramancy were even a little bit knowledgeable about the theories behind this particular Dragon.  Twilight didn't even know its name. But she was determined to give her uncle her full support to redeem herself for the derision that she, and pretty much everyone else, had shown him in the past.   

"Edward..." she whispered.  The Dragon retrieved his foot from where it had squished her elder brother, Edward.  It scraped off the remains of the former Arch-Aerialist, obviously disgusted with the blasphemy of the Aerialists, who had been trying to summon the Dragon and paying tribute to it with sky magic, the wrong magic, for hundreds of years.  It roared a wordless roar once more.   

"Continue the Ritual of Welcoming!"  Jafaar roared back, "We must determine the Attribute of this Dragon!"   

"Don't you already know, Uncle??"  Princess Twilight asked in surprise.  At this point she could believe that her Uncle Jafaar knew anything and everything.   

"Does it matter?" he hissed back under his breath, without looking at his niece, "would you cut short the Ritual of Welcoming for any reason and risk offending the Great White Earth Dragon further?"   

"I'm so sorry, Uncle!"  Twilight bowed her head and covered it with her tail in contrition.  "I am ready to support you in any way I can.  Just tell me what to do!"   

"You know your roles, just be ready," he hissed.  Then, again in his loud, lead-ritualist voice, "Offer the Attribute of Blood!" 

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    The music of unseen drums and the stomping of (now less than) 100 pairs of tiny feet changed, becoming less demonic and slow, and more frantic and panic-inducing.  The Dragon stood as still as he could, heart beating rapidly in terror, still not recovered from witnessing the horrifying death of the quite obviously intelligent albino rat creature.  He held as still as he could, not wanting to crush another squirrel-person accidentally.  He was surprised that accident was so messy and fatal; He was sure that if he stepped on a squirrel from Earth, while he might hurt it, it would definitely survive, bite him, and run away at high speed.  These creatures were significantly smaller and more fragile; The one he had stepped on fit entirely under his foot except for the tail.   

When four of the squirrels crossed the edge of the pentagram he stood in, he held perfectly still, not wanting to see more gore and death.  He did not get his wish. A squirrel in a red robe disemboweled one in a cyan robe, intentionally spilling the entrails on the Dragon's toes (this was a Terramancer executing one of the Aerialists that refused to submit, but the Dragon couldn't have known this.)   

In disgust and horror, his reaction was to kick the dying squirrel and the one that executed him at once, as hard as he could, sending them out of sight into the forest and drizzling gore on those in front of him. Another red robed squirrel was moving quickly to repeat the scene on his other foot, but he wasn't having it.  On impulse, he reached down and plucked the wicked looking sacrificial saber from the red-robed squirrel's hand, then flicked it, also out of sight into the forest.   

"What is wrong with these little guys?" he wondered out loud.  He was starting to be more confused and annoyed than horrified. 

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"Humanity's Dragon rejects the Attribute of Blood!  Offer the Attribute of Gluttony!"  The Terramancer who had his weapon taken stumbled backwards in shock and bewilderment, until a couple of his friends dashed forward and snatched him back into the safety of the crowd.  The Aerialist who had been facing death just stood at the Dragon's feet, at a loss of what to do.   

"Radiant, you prideful fool!"  Jafaar called out to the Aerialist, "The Dragon has personally spared you.  Are you going to waste that and stand there until you offend the Dragon once more and be crushed?  Get over here and lay your head and tail down in gratitude to the Great White Dragon!"  Radiant, the surviving Aerialist, finally came to his senses and ran off to do just as Jafaar commanded.   

"The toll, Uncle, the toll!"  Princess Twilight cried out, the death of her older brother Edward only now starting to hit her.   

"What toll, you foolish whelp?" hissed Jafaar. "Edward, James, Kirk, and Sabin?  What toll are four Occultists compared to how may soldiers are lost to one attack of the Titans?  How many whelps are lost to slavery when the Cromags take their terrible tribute?  Are the lives of Royals and Occultists really worth more than others?  Not to the Earth Dragon.  The Earth Dragon will save all of Humanity equally!"  Twilight sniffed once, then steeled her resolve.   

"You are right, Uncle.  You were always right," she then screamed in a religious fervor, "Feed the Great One!" 

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The music changed once again, becoming somehow slovenly and lazy.  The Dragon felt his emotions being affected; he suddenly just felt like eating and sleeping.  He sat down, cross-legged, trying to stay entirely in the pentagram.  As if on cue, the crowd parted and squirrels came bearing food.  Five miserable looking squirrels in tattered robes, emaciated, ribs-showing and fur patchy, carried forth five ornate metal plates, each just large enough to hold one juicy red grape.  The hungry-looking squirrels each took one bite of their grape then put their plate down, bowing behind it.   

The meaning seemed pretty clear to the Dragon and he was hungry, besides; he took one grape and ate it.  No surprises; it tasted like a red grape.  The skinny squirrel picked up he empty plate and seemed to walk off sadly, even hungrier than before.  This made the Dragon feel guilty.  He tried to feed one of the starving squirrels the grape it had brought, picking it up and holding it out to it.  When it didn't look up, he booped it on the head with the grape.  The emaciated squirrel looked startled, whiskers wiggling around in confusion.  The Dragon insisted, pushing the grape into the arms of the squirrel, who tentatively started eating it.   

He repeated the scene with the other three underfed squirrels, then found the one whose grape he had eaten in the crowd.  He pointed to the squirrel, then one of the grapes, over and over, until that squirrel returned and shared the grape with the squirrel that was already eating it.  The Dragon wasn't quite sure what he accomplished, but he felt accomplished, nonetheless. 

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"I don't understand what the White Dragon is trying to accomplish," complained Twilight, "Why would it eat one seed of the ambrosia, then waste the rest feeding the Hungrist Monks?"       

"It could not be more obvious you foolish whelp.  The Dragon is correcting our behavior, showing us the ways of Humanity as described in the Tomes of the Earth.  None shall be forced to go hungry as worship to our Dragon.  By sparing Radiant, the powerful peasant, but not Kirk, the useless Occultist who had gained his position due to noble birth, the Earth Dragon teaches us the values of the Earth; Equality and Mercy. Oooh!"  Jafaar clutched his head in agony, "I am so ashamed that we show our Great One a society so different than the ways the Dragon taught us long ago, as handed down over the generations and preserved in the Tomes of Earth.  Oooh! Are we really worthy of this mercy?"   

"We didn't know!  We didn't know!"  lamented Twilight, ashamed, "It must be as you say Uncle, but it doesn't make sense!  How could the values of Equality and Mercy possibly allow us to survive in our brutal world?"   

Jafaar looked at his niece like she was stupid, "Do you see how big this Dragon is?  It can force the world to work however it wants!" he went back to his commanding, Arch-Occultist mode, "Skip the Offerings of Suffering and Sleeplessness.  Try the offering of Lust!" 

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The music changed once again, becoming even slower and somehow more sensual.  The Dragon was reminded of porno music.  Five naked blue squirrels (and thus, regular-looking squirrels to the Dragon's eyes) that were a little smaller than the rest and had their whiskers trimmed down almost to their faces, came out from the crowd and started dancing in a circle in front of the Dragon.  They danced on two feet and four, their tails swaying, twirling, and twitching back and forth in a way that seemed the most squirrel-like of their mannerisms so far.  Their fur, especially their tails, were fluffed up and soft-looking like a dog that had been bathed and blowdried.   

They came closer and began to brush their fluffy tails against the Dragon's legs, knees, and feet as they passed by in their dancing circle.  It felt nice and soft and wasn't hurting anyone as far as the Dragon could tell, so he sat still and enjoyed it for now.  The dancers seemed to be cleaning the gore off his feet in the process.  

"Nice.  Squirrel fluff-bath."  He closed his eyes and relaxed into the music and soft touches.  While his guard was down, the naked squirrels expanded their dancing circle to dart under the knees of his crossed legs, brushing their luxurious metallic blue tails against the inside of his thighs and under and around his genitals.  The Dragon's eyes flashed open in surprise at the unexpected invasion of his personal space.  He held perfectly still, afraid that any movement would squish the little dancing squirrels that were spinning around his legs.  Completely against his will, and to his horror and embarrassment, the sexy rhythm and sensual strokes of fluffy tails visibly stimulated the Dragon. 

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"Behold Sean, The Great White Earth Dragon of Lust!"  Jafaar announced with grandeur.   

"Sean..." objected Twilight, "But that's a human name?"   

"It's time you studied the history of Humanity according to the Tomes of Earth.  Then, you will understand."  Jafaar answered, pedantically.   

"What does it mean that our Dragon is a Dragon of Lust?"  Twilight asked.   

"An Earth Dragon of Lust," Jafaar clarified, "this means that we worship our Dragon with the rituals of Earth and make gifts corresponding to the Attribute of Lust.  In exchange, the Dragon will share its wisdom and power for the protection and prosperity of Humanity.  We will start by making a gift of these pleasure-whelps."   

"But Uncle!"  Twilight objected, "How will the Lust Magicians use their magic without the pleasure-whelps?"   

Jafaar's whiskers twisted in anger and disgust as he replied, "Those disgusting old men will masturbate, just like the Magicians of old.  There was never a need to enslave whelps, dismembering their whiskers so that they have no way to communicate their torment, verbally or emotionally.  It is socially irresponsible to ever remove a Human's whiskers, and thus our own capacity to feel empathy for them."  Jafaar Whiskered a small evil grin. "Don't you want to see the Royal's whiskers when we give the Dragon their pleasure-whelps, next?"   

Princess Twilight felt an unfamiliar rebellious glee when she allowed herself to feel a little bit of Jafaar's evil grin, and said, "I....Kind of do, Uncle.  But it's wrong of me to say so."   

"Things will change soon, my niece," he declared mysteriously.   

"I know, Uncle.  Now that you are Occultist Prime, I will bear your whelps instead of my brother Edward's.  Worry not; your muzzle may be gray, but once I mature, I will not shy away from my Royal duties."  Jafaar gave Twilight an affectionate, Uncle-like pat on the tail with his own.  

"You're a good girl, Twilight.  But it may not be necessary.  I suspect the Dragon may choose you or your sister for his Bride."   

"My sister!"  Princess Twilight exclaimed, "but she is yet a whelp?  She still dwells in the House of the Young!"   

"Is she not older than the pleasure-whelps currently servicing our Dragon?"  "But that's different!"   

Twilight objected, "Everyone knows that the pleasure-whelps had their whiskers clipped before they could develop complex thoughts or emotions.  They are no more than trained animals!"  Jafar was about to reply, but was interrupted by a Whiskered outcry of alarm and apprehension. 

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"Whoops-a-Daisy!" the Dragon said as he reached out and caught the squirrel that fell from the decaying and holey tree mass stacked just above his head where he was sitting.  "There you go, little guy," he said, as he ever-so-gently placed the squirrel on the ground in front of him.  The pleasure-whelps continued to fluff his stuff. 

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The Occultists who had held a ritual-ready level of discipline over their speech and emotions could no longer keep silent at the most recent development.  They Whiskered alarm and apprehension and whispered about how the Dragon had saved the falling soldier.  The music trailed off to a stop and the pleasure-whelps did as well, appearing as wind-up toys running out of energy and stopping.  The soldier, surprised by the fall, the rescue, and the unbelievably giant dragon in front of him, could only lay on the ground, frozen in shock.   

"It's a messenger!"  Someone called out.  Several squirrels ran forward to comfort the exhausted, panting, and overwhelmed scout.  One covered his face with their tail, the others stroked him head to tail like one would pet a cat, using their own tail.   

When the messenger came to his senses, someone's tail still on his face, he immediately called out, "Anthrax the Destroyer and all four of his pride are attacking the House of the Young!"  Dread and despair were Whiskered all around.   

"Not now!" lamented Princess Twilight, "Why now, when all the battle mages are away?  Oh, sister!"   

Gerard, the Occultist Battlemaster, strode forward to interrogate the scout, whose face was still covered in order to keep him (and all the others in Whiskering distance) calm.  "You are certain the Titans have discovered our young?  Did they try to dig them out?"   

"They were halfway through digging them out when I left...I could feel the fear of the young through the barrier."  Disbelief and horror.   

"That's impossible, that was just your own fear," Gerard corrected, "What about the army?"   

"Useless," the soldier moaned, "Without the magic of the Occultists, the army stands no chance.  As soon as the Titans catch and torture a soldier, we lose morale.  We have no defense against the Whiskered suffering of others, and no miracles to bolster us with awe."   

"Have they begun Cutting whiskers?"  Gerard asked gravely.   

The scout swallowed and answered, "They were taking volunteers when we left.  When I volunteered to be a runner to get here and tell the Occultists they are needed.  I am the only runner that got through."   

"You almost didn't make it either. You're lucky our merciful Dragon chose to save you."   

"Is that...what happened?" the scout Whiskered his awe.   

"Are they going to cut Whiskers and make a suicide attack as soon as the Titans break through into the House of the Young?"  Gerard pressed.   

"That's right..." the scout agreed in a small voice, "Should I have volunteered to have my whiskers cut as well?  To save the young?"  He sounded young himself, Whiskering self-loathing.   

Gerard comforted the young soldier by stroking him with his tail, "If you didn't volunteer to be a runner, we wouldn't have learned the danger.  No one should feel badly about not volunteering to consign themselves to a slow death of deaf-mute loneliness.  You have nothing to be ashamed of.  Hide yourself in the lower levels of the Under-Wood until you recover, then take your time and sneak home slowly.  I'm sorry we cannot leave you an escort...We must all rush back even if we cannot make it in time."   

"I understand," the scout agreed. "Sir...is that really...our Dragon?  Maybe it can...?"  Everyone looked to the Dragon with hope.   

Except Princess Twilight, who slowly removed her gloves and thoughtfully examining her retractable claws, an evolutionary throwback millions of years old, and now an ultra-rare mutation that was the mark of a Tree-Climber and a Dragon-Rider.  Jafaar physically jumped, startled as he was from receiving a Whiskered emotion that he had never before encountered in his long life:  The grim and unbreakable determination of a great hero ready to fulfill her destiny.   

"Wait!" Jafaar objected, unable to hide both his panic and awe.  "Now is not the time!  We must finish the offering of Lust and Sanctify the Bare-Earth with the Great Dragon's seed!"       

"No, Uncle." Twilight said calmly, shedding the white robe of an Aural Evoker, revealing a black body suit of chainmail mesh, covered in the claws of the Dragon-Riders of old, woven immovably into the design.  Instead of metallic blue like the others, her fur was a unique gradient of light magenta to dark purple, demonstrating the colors of the twilight sky.  While Jafaar was yelling for the drums to start back up again, Twilight continued, "Now is the only time.  Now that the Titans have discovered the House of the Young, we must strike a real blow or they will just return and slaughter our young another time.  If our young are slain, we cannot pay tribute to the Cromags, and they will slaughter and end Humanity in the South.  Besides, what good is a Dragon if it does not save Humanity's whelps?  I'm coming, sister."   

With that, the princess turned and ran off, back into the crowd in order to sneak around behind the Dragon.  Realizing his role was over for now, Jafaar could only wish the new hero the blessings of the Earth. 

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The Dragon reached over curiously and gently booped one of the fluffy squirrel dancers.  She responded by instantly starting to stroke and pet his hand with her tail.  It felt soft, fluffy and wonderful, but something about the twitchy, almost frantic motions seemed forced to him, and he found it disturbing.  It didn't seem like he was being deliberately caressed so much as turning on a toy that moved automatically.   

Suddenly, his back was on fire.  It felt like a kitten was climbing its way up his bare skin.  He reached down and back, but it climbed up to the spot on his back that he couldn't reach.  He reached over his back instead, then jerked his hands away, looking at drops of blood from where his fingers had snagged on claws.  When the invader reached the back of his neck and climbed into his hair he stood up in a hurry, balancing on one foot, trying not to step on anyone.  When he felt strands of hair being yanked off his head and claws dig into his scalp, he complained, "Ow! Ow! Ow! Why? Why? Ouch!" 

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Twilight clung to the Dragon's long fur with all her might as her body weathered the vibrations of the Dragon's mighty, wordless roar.  Her heart fluttered rapidly as the Dragon took flight, pulling her up to unspeakable heights.  She closed her eyes and held on, unable to truly believe what was happening.  The Dragon shook its head forward and back trying to dislodge her.  Every time it reached to grab her, it would get impaled by the tiny claws of her armor and jerk its hands away.   

Unsure what to do next and desperate to save her sister and the other whelps, Twilight tried to speak to the Dragon, "Oh Great White Earth Dragon of Lust, Sean!  Please forgive me for daring to mount and ride you!  Humanity needs you; our young are about to be horribly eaten by the evil Titans and only you can save us!"  The Dragon froze and stopped trying to throw her to her death as soon as she said its name.  She wasn't sure how the Dragon might hear her without whiskers, but she clung to that hope.   

"You are a wise Dragon, just as Uncle Jafaar said!  Not a mindless dark god of destruction!  Please help us, Great Dragon!  You are our only hope.  Share with us your power and wisdom!  We only summoned you because we had no choice; Humanity is about to perish.  The Titans and Cromags are driving us to extinction.  If you save us, we will give you the worship you deserve!  We will feed you, bathe you, give you the gifts of Lust and Pleasure!  Our society will be devoted to you, and rightfully so, since it cannot survive without your blessing!  And I... I will... I, First Princess Twilight will become your Bride, if that is what you desire!  I am still a whelp, but soon I will be mature enough to bear offspring..."   

The Dragon reached up and slowly pushed his thumbs under her paws, forcing her claws to retract.  For the first time, Twilight noticed she had the Dragon's strange red blood covering her paws.   

"Oops," she said, laughing nervously. "Did I hurt you?  I'll be more careful."  The Dragon roared in response.  She was surprised that her claws had penetrated the Dragon's smooth scales, but figured it was a perk of being a Dragon rider.  She did the equivalent of clearing her throat, "Ahem.  Great Dragon Sean, please let us ride out at once to save Humanity!" 

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Humanity? Earth?  Sean the Dragon was confused about a great many things.  He was only certain that his name was Sean, recognizing it instantly.  But did Humanity refer to himself (he was still human as far as he could tell) or the squirrels?  Did Earth refer to the world he had come from, the world he was on now, both, or just the dirt under his feet?  The squirrel on his head, wrapped up firmly in his hair, was obviously an intelligent creature that was communicating with him telepathically.  Obviously.   

Sean decided not to question the things that he was experiencing first-hand and could already come up with a simple explanation for; he had too many other open-ended questions to ponder in the meantime.  Where was he?  Why was he here?  Where was he before and why can't he remember?  Why is he naked?  Why are the squirrels and tree bark, blue?   

He was standing in a deep pit of bare, hard-packed, white, dry earth.  He was surrounded by a chest high layer of tightly-packed tree corpses, that seemed to settle into a more or less smooth, flat surface of forest, the cracks between each having been filled by smooth blue and green leaves.  The place he was standing seemed to show the history or life cycle of the forest; he was looking at a cross section of fallen, ever so slowly decaying tree trunks.  After the top layer, the inside of the trees quickly disintegrated to nothing, but the hard shell around the trees, smooth and blue and barkless, seemed to stay intact for a very, very long time.  As the layer of trunks made their way from his chest to his feet, the outer layer slowly thinned, developing holes in a surface that went from metallic blue, to crimson red, and finally white to match the dirt he stood on.  He saw a series of hastily constructed squirrel-sized ladders creating a path down the side of the cross section of dead trees.   

As he watched, the robed squirrels began to climb up and out of the pit, climbing up through the holes in the tree trunks and along the sheer edge when necessary.  Sean would have guessed that squirrels were faster than he, but observed that despite their hurry, they moved no faster than a human of their size would across the ground.  This meant that he, himself, was able to move many times faster even at a walk.   

At the urging of the "Princess", he mounted the wall by simply leaning over it, pushing himself up with his arms, doing a little sideways roll and returning to his feet. During this process, his companion screamed in fear, saying something about "higher that the highest Tree-Climbers."  He turned back and looked down at the pit from which he had been "summoned" and was chilled to see that it appeared as an impression made from a giant footprint.  He tried to reassure himself that it couldn't be a foot print; how could a giant foot make that impression without also crushing those trees that sprout from the bare-earth below?  He saw the pentagram painted in red, through which he entered this world, as well as the gory remains of the albino white rats seemingly sacrificed to make it happen.  He saw the corpse of the cyan-robed squirrel that he had accidently stepped on, and nearby out of the pit the unmoving corpses of the two he had kicked like a field goal.   

Without a better plan, he headed off in the direction that the squirrels seemed to be heading, hurrying a little bit at his companion's urging.  "Saving Humanity" sounded like it was in his best interest and at the very least he wanted to find some humanity and learn about what was happening.  He wasn't sure how useful he could be naked and unarmed against someone called "Anthrax, the Titan of Destruction", but he took heart from how supremely confident Twilight sounded about his chances of winning.  At the very least, he wouldn't mind some of the food he was promised; a gentle rumbling in his stomach was the only warning of a great hunger soon to come.