Storm, Rain, and Water heeded her call. Leviathan struck fierce blows against the oversized monster that emerged from the sea. The water’s fury was like a tsunami in its strength, unmatched in its might. Nia had only briefly met the Regalia of Water, but she imagined there was a home turf advantage here, and envisioned the lord of the seas making short work of the intruder rising from its depths. Tales from history report that entire cities have been drowned when they faced the wrath of the Dominant of the Sea.
As she watched, it appeared that Leviathan was not using their full strength. Perhaps it was the proximity to the harbour and the civilian in harm’s way that caused the restraint from such a powerful force of nature. However, seeing the magnificent and large beast coil around the monster and constrict it should have proven sufficient. Yet, Leviathan did not face the monstrosity alone; its minions, which swarmed the great serpent like ravenous lice. It was at that moment that Leviathan began to lose her strength, and her last cry throughout the harbour was cut short through a grisly end. Nia’s eyes widened in horror as the unthinkable happened in this era of peace, the death of a dominant.
It was that loss of composure, the intensity of the moment, that led to her to unintentionally reveal herself to Gaia. As the large green dominant turned to her, the instruction was clear; she expected Nia’s participation to face the current tribulation before them all. She was inclined to protest, but stopped herself. Was that fear she felt? The beat of her heart thumping, her breathing deep, the sensation of energy being released throughout her body, the overwhelming urge to run. To run away, far from here. She took a moment to breathe, to steady herself. It was when a large green finger gently tapped her on the nose, boop, her focus returned to the world outside. As she blinked, she noticed the finger over those dark green lips, signifying secrecy.
Nia knew there was a purpose in visiting this festival, a purpose that was unclear to her. Maybe it was to reach out to others to make connections, perhaps to guide others on a more enlightened and spiritual journey. As her eyes crossed the bay, the true purpose became clearer. She was not wrong, but the truth, as always, was infinitely more simple. People often feared the enmity of the void, but what does it mean to be inspired by it? Like paint on a canvas, it was always left to the imagination of the one with the paintbrush, but perhaps her role was to start with the first stroke, in front of a global audience. A path of salvation in what appears to be the beginning chapter of the darkest of days.
She raised her hood over her head as she nodded back to Gaia in appreciation, as she moved to the rear exit, to leave the safety and protection of her embrace. The cold reality struck her as she left, like an opening of the door on a very cold winter's day, a shock to the system, but it served only to steel her nerves, for she knew what she had to do.
Nia raised her hands as the mists grew across the harbour, the thick fog obscuring those she wished to be hidden, and importantly, herself as she strolled into the midst of the thickest part. Civilians continued to stream through, as if guided around and away from the battlefield, as the mist began to form a tall and large shape, much like a tower of the big cities. The air seemed to grow colder, as the fog moved as if it was alive, twisting a swirling into an entirely new shape.
Those nearby could swear a primordial and guttural growl could be heard from within those mists, as if the tales of Nibelheim were being brought to life before them. The sound growing louder, as if an ancient beast was awakening from its long slumber, as it resonated throughout the fog.
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