On the bank of a great, green pond, sunning itself on the emerald grass, lies a dragon. This is Lagiacrus, an enormous Asian water monitor, among the largest lizards on Earth. At two metres long, he is a true titan, a leviathan in every sense of the word. He is in the prime of maturity and every aspect of his physique reflects it. He is massively built, with powerful limbs, huge, hooked claws, and an immense, whipped tail. His body is an imposing charcoal black but is coated in rosettes of gold, auburn and crimson that sparkle and shine like autumn leaves. His tail bears a striking, scarlet ridge and his underside flares with the colours of the sun. He holds his mighty head high, regal in stature and imperial in profile. Few monitors are as magnificent as he is. His body is lined with years’ worth of scars and scratches. They carry stories of battles small and large, trials old and new, and are signs of his immense strength and resilience. It is a visual introduction of his might and majesty, the markings of a true survivor.
Lagiacrus licks his lips lazily, allowing the cool breeze to wash over his scales. Like all water monitors, his lower jaw boasts an impressive banding of black stripes that contrast spectacularly with the fiery colours of his underside. Lagiacrus has a proud black spot between the first and second band of his left side. This is his own unique mark, one that sets him apart from every other monitor in the world, the equivalent of a human fingerprint. However, mark or no mark, this land belongs to him and him alone. No creature dares challenge a dragon as majestic and mighty as him. The massive reptile looks out across his domain, confident and calm, basking in the warm glow of the Sri Lankan sun. Before him sprawls a wondrous wetland. Great, green ponds ripples outwards, dotted with islands that are thick with trees and bushes. The water teems with fish and insects of every kind. It is a rich, lush world of emerald and bronze, a world that supports an extraordinary diversity of wildlife.
Indian black turtles, with their ebony shells, lounge on banks and logs, sunning themselves under the searing sun. Kingfishers whizz and weave above the surface, plunging into the water like feathery missiles, spearing fish on their sword shaped beaks. Lagiacrus’s eyes narrow, tracking a common kingfisher as it returns to its mate, its body a blur of iridescent blues with a flaming orange breast. Just beyond, a stork billed kingfisher stands downing its latest meal, its blue and beige feathers rustling while its royal, ruby beak snaps open and shut.
Oriental darters stand silently on their perches, their long, snake like necks folded and their iridescent, black wings open wide. Even the canopy is teeming with life. Sri Lankan grey hornbills nest high above, their slate grey wings tucked neatly away, their huge beaks shining like sunflowers shimmering in the sun. Grizzled giant squirrels scurry among the branches, their purple brown fur glistening as they hop from tree to tree. Toque macaques, tan coloured monkeys with striking red faces, spring through the canopy, while their larger cousins, the tufted gray langurs, sit chewing leaves in deep contemplation.
Surveying them all, in the topmost branch of the tallest tree, a grey headed fish eagle stands atop its perch, its one and a half metre wings folded neatly along its sides, an avian gargoyle watching all those below it. Its earthy, brown body and iron, grey head are as still as stone, its hooked beak and imperial claws glinting like burnished steel. Its eyes bore into the land below, its vision keener than that of almost any other hunter. The eagle stands unmoving but all knowing, its massive, iron talons gripped tightly around the branch like a vice. The eagle’s keen vision, a biological surveillance system, knows exactly what every living thing in the vicinity is, and knows exactly what every living thing is doing. Nothing escapes it.
As the raptor stares at him from above, Lagiacrus eyes it intently, his dark, auburn eyes meeting the eagle’s amber ones. The stare of the eagle is more piercing than the sharpest sword. However, Lagiacrus does not lower his gaze. The eagle narrows its eyes but Lagiacrus does not break contact. After the briefest moment of pause, a pause in which one can sense the very air turn frigid with tension, the eagle finally turns away. Few animals can meet the stare of a dragon, not even an eagle. This is an ecosystem of equilibrium and Lagiacrus is at its apex. Not even the fish eagle can match him in stature.
However, no king goes unchallenged, and the greater the ruler the more imposing their trials. The fish eagle suddenly rattles in alarm, hooting loudly. Lagiacrus looks up, his body tense and alert. Following the eagle’s gaze, he spots the cause of commotion. Striding along the bank towards him, its immense body and tail dragging heavily along the ground, is the biggest monitor he has ever seen.
This is Scatha. He too is a water monitor, identified by a black, crescent shaped mark on his right lower jaw. However, he is huge, easily two metres long and bulkier than even Lagiacrus. He boasts an impressive obsidian body, clad in iron like scales and studded with fiery rosettes that flare like magma. Scatha walks with a swagger of superiority Lagiacrus has never seen before. It is the demeanour of one too used to getting its own way, a dragon that makes its living by forcing others into submission by virtue of sheer bulk and power. Scatha’s scales gleam in the prime of health.
Not a single scratch nor scar breaks his hide. While Scatha appears to take pride in his unbroken beauty, Lagiacrus finds the sight repulsive. For him, such a pristine coating on such a large dragon is the sign of a coward, the mark of a dragon that has never had to fight for success. Conversely, Scatha eyes Lagiacrus with equal distaste, the scars chiselling Lagiacrus’s scales interpreted as a sign of weakness and a lack of self-care. However, regardless of their assessments, both monitors know what is about to happen and neither are willing to back down.
The two dragons square off, their huge, sinuous bodies curving along the bank, sizing each other up. Despite their initial distaste, neither one dares risk a brawl if they can avoid it. Instead they attempt to overwhelm the other by intimidation, attempting to undermine the other’s confidence. They raise themselves to their fullest height, tilting their heads upwards and exposing their fiery underside in a flash of colour. Turning themselves sideways, they then inflate their throats, expanding it with air in a burst of gold that flares like the sun.
They flex their forked tongues insultingly, like lithe, liquorice muscles, hissing loudly through their lips in a great, gravelly growl that reverberates within them. Finally, they turn to face each other, eye to eye. Suddenly, both dragons flex their jaws open, expanding their mouths like a python. Their gape is gigantic, an explosion of blazing pink. A great, growling hiss seethes from within, their final warning and their last word. Yet, neither moves an inch. This leaves but one choice. With a ferocity and speed of unimaginable scale, the dragons lunge forwards, their teeth and talons ready to rip and raze.
Lagiacrus and Scatha clash, a combined fifty kilograms of muscle and sinew colliding, slamming into each other like freight trains. The impact is winding to say the least and the force of it is heard and felt by all in the vicinity. Kingfishers take off in fright and monkeys freeze atop their branches, all alarmed and enthralled by the sight. However, for the duelling dragons, the only focal point is each other. Lagiacrus and Scatha rear upwards on their hind legs, their massive tails providing balance, before slamming into each other with devastating force. They writhe and wrestle, gripping each other in a deathly bear hug, their whipped tails flailing wildly behind them, each one trying to topple the other. The two twist and turn in a macabre ballet, each one ripping into the other’s hide, their titanic tails twirling behind them. Grass and soil fly everywhere as the monitors wrestle, their talons tearing through the sediment. Lagiacrus has experience but Scatha has size and they are evenly matched.
The two stagger towards the edge of the pond, dangerously unbalanced, swiping and striking at each other’s faces and flanks. As they stumble down the bank, Lagiacrus takes the higher ground, forcing Scatha backwards with every step. However, Scatha’s greater bulk grants him better stability and, with his feet firmly planted into the ground, he remains unmoving, rooted to the spot defiantly. Lagiacrus has but one choice if he is to win. With a mighty heave, Lagiacrus throws himself upon his rival, flexing his jaws wide. He locks his jaws around Scatha’s neck and, with a monumental effort, launches himself forwards. Scatha is completely blindsided by the attack and, hissing in fury, the dragons tumble into the pond with a tumultuous splash.
Complete chaos ensues. The dragons spin in a frenzied mass of limbs and tails, grappling each other ferociously and wheeling through the water with increasing speed, their huge, whipped tails thrashing across the surface. Fish scatter in every direction, while kingfishers shoot off their perches like bullets. Turtles tumble away in terror while squirrels scramble into the canopy, scared out of their senses. Darters and hornbills ascend in alarm and even the fish eagle takes leave of its perch, intimidated and unnerved by the battle below. However, the duelling dragons take no notice and continue to thrash in a frenzied death roll. They spin in a whirlwind of black and gold, their fiery rosettes blazing like flames, their metre long tails crashing upon the surface like sledgehammers. However, even for these mighty dragons, the effort is not without cost and, once again, the two find themselves in a deadly stalemate, each unable to overpower the other.
As they roll, Lagiacrus breaches the surface, forcing his head above the murky water. If he is to break out of this death grip he must look beyond the pond itself, though he has but a second to do so. Just a few metres ahead lies an island of greenery, a large sunken log protruding from its banks. It is all the information he needs. Sweeping his massive tail from side to side, Lagiacrus surges forwards, dragging Scatha along the bottom of the pond, their scales and claws raking across the sediment below. The two dragons slam into the sunken log like a battering ram. Scatha takes the full force of the blow, striking the log like a meteor.
However, Lagiacrus does not waste a second and, pushing his feet off Scatha’s dazed body, hauls himself up the decaying trunk. For an animal as massive as he is, the climb is exhausting to say the least, the very bulk of his own body dragging him down with every inch. However, slowly but surely, inch by inch, Lagiacrus ascends, heaving his two metre body upwards. His claws slip and scrape through the wood with each step, but he persists, knowing the stakes are too great to risk letting go. However, just as he is about to haul himself ashore, pain shoots through his flanks. Lagiacrus turns and, to his horror, finds Scatha staring up at him, his talons stabbing into his sides.
Scatha’s stare is like a death mask and his grip is like iron. Lagiacrus kicks away, clawing at his rival’s face but Scatha holds on, an unrelenting force of nature. Lagiacrus desperately tries to haul himself atop the island but pain explodes through him. Weighed down by Scatha’s grip, the effort is too much. The two dragons lock eyes, unblinking and unflinching. However, despite the rage that burns within, there is also a very different look and, for the first time, both dragons see themselves in the other, for once united by a common emotion: exhaustion. Monitor lizards have possibly the highest metabolism of any extant reptile, facilitating an extremely active lifestyle and providing them a huge advantage over other lizards. However, even the most active monitors have their limits, and both combatants now lie overwhelmed and exhausted, their faces filled with lethargy. Their bodies half submerged, the two dragons crawl weakly upwards, their usually rapid and calculating movements now slow and sluggish. For all Lagiacrus’s efforts, he can barely move an inch and Scatha refuses to let go, holding on relentlessly and pulling himself up with every passing second.
From the canopy above, hornbills and monkeys cackle in a chorus of mockery, like vulgar spectators to battling gladiators. However, for Lagiacrus, the calls are a twisted lament for, within moments, Scatha will ascend and, with one swift stroke of his jaws or claws, end his reign for good, ushering in a new domain that Lagiacrus will certainly not be a part of. Yet, as he watches Scatha rise, understanding hits Lagiacrus. Scatha’s iron grip, while exceedingly painful, is not intended to cause damage. Scatha’s only foothold is Lagiacrus himself and should Scatha let go, he would collapse into the surface, unintentionally forfeiting the battle.
Bolstered by this realisation, strength seeps into Lagiacrus and, though every instinct screams at him to defend himself, he lets his body go limp, relaxing his muscles completely and feigning defeat. The effect is instantaneous. Mistaking Lagiacrus’s action as weakness, Scatha hauls himself upwards, scraping through Lagiacrus’s scales and finally clambering onto the log itself. The moment Scatha’s feet touch the log, his grip on Lagiacrus slackens. It Is the moment Lagiacrus has been waiting for. Sweeping round with stupendous speed, Lagiacrus launches himself at Scatha head first.
Lagiacrus flies forwards, butting Scatha repeatedly in the chest and swatting at his face with his taloned limbs. Scatha is sent reeling and, in his confusion, loses his grip completely. Scatha tumbles backwards, sliding down the log helplessly, his talons grappling hopelessly at the trunk. However, he is far from defeated and, if he will go down, he will take Lagiacrus with him. Undulating his body like an immense sea monster, Scatha wraps himself around Lagiacrus, constricting his sinuous, two metre body around him. Lagiacrus feels mighty muscles and ironclad scales tighten around his chest, squeezing the life out of him. The two are face to face, their auburn eyes boring into each other. Lagiacrus is at Scatha’s mercy and they both know it.
However, just as Scatha’s coils begin crushing him inside out, a glimmer of movement catches Lagiacrus’s eye. Scatha’s hind leg, still clutched haphazardly to the log, is starting to slip. The movement is immeasurably brief but it relays one bit of vital information; Scatha’s footing is dangerously close to collapse. Lagiacrus has one choice, though it may well seal his own fate too. However, he has not survived so long by turning tail and so, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, Lagiacrus pushes himself against Scatha, heaving backwards with all his might. The effort is immense and Lagiacrus feels Scatha’s coils constricting ever tighter, quite literally crushing him alive. However, the more Lagiacrus pushes, the more Scatha’s grip tightens, and the more his foot begins to slip. With a herculean effort, Lagiacrus throws his entire weight against Scatha and, just as Scatha attempts to tighten his grip, his foot flies from the log.
The two dragons are catapulted through the pond, shooting across the gravelly sediment like an unloaded spring. Scatha is thrown head over heels and launched head first into the depths, the murky water clogging his nostrils and clouding his vision. Meanwhile, Lagiacrus is sent sprawling across the surface, spitting and spluttering in agony. However, with Scatha’s grip removed, he is finally free. Scatha has a heartbeat to register the attack before Lagiacrus ploughs into him like a wrecking ball, pinning against the bottom of the pond. Scatha thrashes in a frenzy, his huge tail throwing up water and sediment everywhere, but his defences are in vain.
As they fly through the water, Lagiacrus sees the log approaching once again and, with brutal finality, rams the spluttering Scatha into the trunk with a titanic crash. The battle is over in a heartbeat. Scatha’s grip slackens immediately and he sinks to the bottom, injured, exhausted and utterly defeated. Lagiacrus erupts triumphantly through the water’s surface, breaching the waves in a burst of black and gold. His scales are ripped and ragged, and his energy is utterly spent, but he is ultimately, and unambiguously, victorious.
Lagiacrus ascends the bank in solemn silence, his huge tail dragging weakly behind him. A flash of movement catches his eye, and he turns just in time to spot a battered and beaten Scatha flee, never to return to this pond again. Lagiacrus drags himself along the shore, tired but triumphant. As the shimmering, Sri Lankan sun shines upon him, Lagiacrus basks in the afternoon rays. Every inch of him aches in agony but he knows he will survive. His shredded scales will only add to his stature and ensure continued respect from all those within his domain. Around him, calm finally begins to settle over the ecosystem. Turtles trundle back onto their logs, while the squirrels resume their usual chittering. Hornbills and darters descend while kingfishers crow in applause.
Troops of macaques descend upon the ground, bowing their heads in respect and regarding Lagiacrus with utmost reverence. To the primates, especially the young ones, he is now a god among mortals, and they take comfort in his regal presence, pointing and chattering quietly in admiration. High above, the fish eagle finally returns to its perch and, slowly but surely, the ecosystem’s natural soundtrack returns, a leitmotif that signifies Lagiacrus’s triumph and the continuation of this small paradise. And perhaps all is not lost for Scatha, for now he finally bears a survivor’s scars and may one day establish his own riparian realm. However, one thing is clear: This land belongs to Lagiacrus and every dragon knows it. Every living creature knows it.
Writer David Jeevathithan Ambalavanar is a twenty-four-year-old from Jaffna who has been fascinated with the natural world and its history. He is currently reading for his Bachelor of Science Honour degree at Monash University Malaysia.
