I do not own the Frozen or the Godzilla franchises

One of the things that many people admired about the so-called 'New World', or America as it was now called, was its natural landscape. Despite that large swathes of this continent discovered centuries before had been turned into growing cities with hundreds of miles of railroad track and farmland covering it from the cold regions of the north to the deserts of the south it was still a thing of beauty. A piece of nature that never failed to captivate even the most radical of city-folk, having believed and even expressed vehemently and vociferously man's domination over nature as both a natural talent and a gift from the divine, with its immense forests, luck greenery, steady and calming streams and abundance of wildlife. Put in a concise manner, it was a land full of wonder, beauty and amazement.

That had been part of the reason why Henrik had come here to America, after having been told continuously by his grandfather and several friends of his of their own experiences in this part of the world. Even though he had believed them, and he was a real lover of nature, he never really saw himself as someone who wanted to leave his native homeland of Norway, and especially the city of Arendelle; the kingdom tucked away in one of the many fjords that dotted the southern Norwegian coastline. There, the natural landscape was captivating beyond imagination to him and, well he just ever really saw any reason to leave it. Frankly, to be honest, if anyone had told him that some twenty months ago he would standing on the eastern coast, or seaboard as the Americans referred to it, of this continent on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, he would have dismissed them as liars, tricksters or people who had something wrong with them. Though now if they were to say those exact same words to him he would give a light chuckle and admit he had been proven wrong.

Of course, dear readers, as you can no doubt gather, nature was not the only thing that had drawn him away from Europe to America. Henrik was a trader of the usual commodities that found its way into both Arendelle and neighbouring kingdoms' markets; timber, fish, silver, iron etc. And given that there were many Norwegian settlers in scattered enclaves across America; it helped the many kingdoms establish themselves, to an extent, on the international trading stage (He himself was staying at one of these settlements in the northeast). Henrik was to quickly see opportunities in this and, after gathering resources and getting into contact with the right people and obtaining the approval of Queen Elsa of Arendelle, he set off and well … here he was as part of a growing Norwegian community participating in trading and dealing with merchants and buyers from all over the world. Britain, France, the German states, America (obviously), Italy, India, The Middle East, even the far off regions of the world Europeans called the 'East' such as China and Japan were here, though as expected they were relatively few in number.

Today, however, Henrik was conducting no trade. If he was not working then one would easily find him either wandering along the coastline taking in the natural scenery or exploring the woods not far from the town. It calmed and soothed his mind, but neither was he doing this. Rather, his mind was racing like a cannonball being fired; so too were his legs as he ran as fast as he could up a small hill that overlooked the beach and the sea. One thing was on his mind; get to the top of that hill and fast!

Almost stumbling from a sudden halt in his movement and breathing heavily as if he had been in a marathon, Henrik's eyes searched the scene in front of him, desperately hoping to lock onto what he had seen coming this way a few minutes earlier it had to be here! It had to be! It could not have just disappeared!

Taking a moment to compose himself, Henrik took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He was by no means unfit, just not used to this amount of running. He was about 6ft and broad and dressed in a large black coat with a white shirt underneath and black trousers and cobbled shoes on his large feet. His face was long with a plum nose, small mouth, blue eyes and black hair so by no means was he not handsome either; already he had attracted the attention of several of the local women. It was just that he preferred his work over company of the opposite sex but when it called for it, he did enjoy being with a woman.

Putting the handkerchief in his pocket, he scanned the water again. "Oh where are you?!" he hissed to himself in annoyance. "Akiro needs to know! We cannot lose sight of this now!"

As you may now be wondering whom it was he was talking about, dear readers, I shall explain. You see, as mentioned earlier, there were several people from the largely closed off East who were also present in America, even from the very isolated Japan, where this Akiro had originated. He and Henrik had met each other a few weeks after the latter had arrived in America and became fast friends, often inviting one another around for dinner and exchanging of culture. Akiro had even begun teaching Henrik Japanese, and Henrik in return was teaching him Norwegian; another sure sign of their great friendship. To many in the village this was unusual; some even frowned upon Henrik for mixing with a foreigner whose customs and culture were deemed inferior to their own, but the majority either did not care, or react if they did, or were happy with them.

It was when they had known each other for just under a year when Akiro, after inviting Henrik around for dinner, had gone to prepare a letter to send to a fellow merchant in the south of the area they were living in that Henrik had come across a large book on his host's shelf. Being curious, he opened it, expecting to see the lovely ink art that he had grown fond of after Akiro had shown it to him. But what he saw instead were not landscape pictures of nature or of anything man-made or even anything like an animal.

Well, you could say it was technically an animal, just one that many would never have seen before.

As Henrik had scrolled through the pages, taking in everything he saw on each one with a mind aghast from both wonder and tentativeness, Akiro emerged from his bedroom, saw his guest looking through his book and was quick to take it away from him in a fit of anger, berating him for going through his property. After calming down, Akiro sat Henrik down and told him that he must not tell anyone else of what was in that book, which Henrik promised not to do, before explaining to him everything he had seen.

By the end of the nearly hour long lecture, Henrik left his friend's house in a state of near shock, his mind completely blank and filled only with questions about what he had just heard.

Since then, however, he had aligned himself to Akiro and, for the last year, had been keeping track of everything and anything that seemed strange. Word would always get around through sailors and travellers of the mysteries of this world and whenever they reached this part of the American northeast coast, Henrik and Akiro were quick to try and learn everything they could about them. Given that they were both traders and men of relatively high ranking access to the captains and crewmembers had not been a problem. Keeping it secret was, of course, something different but they had managed it so far.

Though, as Henrik continued to search the sea, he wondered to himself how much longer it would remain that way.

"Oh for God's sake, where are you?!" he muttered to himself again, quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone. No one else could see or know of this! "I saw you!" he said to himself, his voice rising with annoyance as he looked back out to sea, his head going left and right.

Left-nothing

Right-nothing

Left-nothing

Right-nothing but a black shape

Left-Nothi-WAIT!

Looking back to his right, or to the south, his eyes were quick to lock onto a large black shape moving through the water. Swallowing hard, he walked across the hill, never taking his eyes off it as it seemed to approach the coast. What struck him about it was its size. Even now in the dimming afternoon sun, he could make out it was big, very big! Even the water above it seemed to shift as it glided effortlessly as if it were terrified and trying to escape.

"My God!" Henrik breathed with a shocked tone.

As the shape moved on, passing the shoreline by about a few hundred feet, though it looked to be less considering its size, Henrik watched as the water suddenly broke a little. From within the depths like some rising monster, a row of huge spires, almost like fins, broke the surface and towered over the water as they ploughed through it effortlessly, sending waves in all directions. Henrik watched with a mixture of amazement and terror, his mind going blank completely as it tried to process what it was he was seeing.

Shaking his head a little, he muttered something under his breath but it was hard to decipher. Given what he was witnessing, though, it was no doubt something that emphasised the expression he had on his face.

For about a minute, he watched the fins move further and further away to the north, still ploughing through the water like a knife through warm butter. Then, like magic, they just dropped from view and disappeared beneath the waves and the shape disappeared from sight behind another tree covered hill that jutted out slightly from the coast a few hundred metres away.

It had taken about a minute for Henrik's experience to take place, but even if it had been ten seconds or five seconds it would have been enough to plant the fear and trepidation in his mind and the adrenaline pumping through his body along with his now out of control heartbeat. He did not know what it was or what it was doing here but one thing was certain; Get back to Akiro now!

But just as he turned away to run back to his horse, he stopped and looked back in the direction the shape had come and his heart may have stopped for a brief moment because his skin turned white and his breath was caught in his throat.

A little further out to sea, another shape moved past, the water, as with the predecessor, being violently thrown aside as it went. Though nothing broke the surface and it was about a hundred feet or so more out from the previous shape's line of movement, Henrik could see that there was one difference between these two.

This one was a lot bigger! Its sheer size made him gulp as if fearing that he would have to go up against … whatever the hell it was! Part of him told him to run but he just stayed rooted to the spot, frozen in time like a statue.

Racing by as if in pursuit, this shape quickly disappeared behind the same hill and once again the sea was calm and sparkled with the sunlight reflecting off of it. Henrik stood frozen for a moment longer, unable to move or speak, his eyes wide with shock and terror, his mouth quivering as if he tried to speak but not a single word came out.

Then, snapping himself back into reality as his brain seemed to activate itself, once again, he ran as fast as he could back inland towards his horse.

Ten minutes later

"Whoa boy!"

Pulling back hard on the reins of his horse, Henrik screeched to a halt and, almost simultaneously, leapt off onto the ground and took off running towards a large two storey wooden house near the dirt path that made up for a road. A stone chimney jutted out from the roof and a small stable was placed next to it across a garden with three stacks of hay and a fork placed in it. Through one of the windows, he could see a figure sitting on the floor in front of a table and above the front door were several Japanese characters but Henrik was in too much of a hurry to read them.

BANG! The front door flew open and Henrik stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his face covered with sweat and his shirt untucked and coat dirty from where he had fallen off trying to get on his horse in a hurry. An Asian man of about thirty with black hair, brown eyes and was dressed in a sort of traditional Japanese attire almost leapt into the air as he turned to see Henrik plough into the house like some intruder.

"Henrik?!" he exclaimed, his English heavy with a deep Japanese accent. "What is it? What's w-"

He stopped and looked at his Norwegian companion in the eyes. One look was all it took. With that, he rushed over and pulled Henrik inside and set about shutting and locking the door and closing all the curtains and windows.

As Henrik tried to get his breath back, he took a moment to gather himself and took in his surroundings to try and calm himself with familiarity. The front room was large with wooden floors, walls and ceiling. The chimney began at the fireplace on the right wall where a small fire was still ablaze, though the wood was almost burnt to a crisp. Along it were several Japanese pottery items Akiro had bought with him from his homeland or had been given by other Japanese travellers he had come across. In the middle of the room was a small table with tiny legs and several cushions around it. A plate of rice and sauce with chopsticks and a spoon was sat on top of it. Along the walls were several ink paintings of the landscape of Japan as well as the natural American landscape from which Akiro had come across on his travels. Below one of Mt Fuji on the left wall was a long shelf filled with books, a bamboo flute and several pieces of paper and an ink pot. Another door on the wall at the other end of the room led to the bedroom and the stairs.

Henrik was suddenly snapped out of his trance by Akiro, who pulled him over to the table and sat him down on one of the cushions. Akiro sat opposite him and looked at Henrik was a form expression of determination.

"Henrik, what did you see?" he asked him.

For a moment, he tried to reply but the words got lost in his mouth. With a mental hit, he replied with two sentences.

"The stories of the sailors were true, Akiro!" his voice was quiet but dripped with fear. "I saw Them!"

On that note, Akiro's expression changed instantly from determination to fear.

God help us all. "Which way did they go?"

"To the north!" Henrik paused for a moment to try and contemplate what was going on. "It seems what happened south was true after all!"

Akiro nodded and was silent for a moment, looking down at the food on the table. No longer was he in a mood to eat. Now, he was set on one thing.

"Henrik," he said after a few moments, looking up at his European colleague. "Go back to the house where you live and gather your things. You must go back to Arendelle."