Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to its owner(s) – Not me, the writer of this fanfiction. I'm just mooching off the framework already set in place... largely because I'm too lazy to finish my own, and, to a lesser degree, because I thought it'd be interesting to mix and match a few things...
Author's Note: Since Wind and Water is at a relative standstill, I'm going to take a break from it for a little bit and work on a side-project in an effort to regenerate my muse... similar to passing your 'lucky dice' to your buddy when it stops rolling high to 'charge it up.' No, I'm not as much of a D&D nerd as that statement might make me seem. This will go more in depth into the nature of Aura's pantheon. Aeria will only be mentioned in passing... or will she? If you want, perhaps, a better introduction to the character as she truly was, before her reincarnation, then this is where you will find it.
Zero
End of an Age
The singing of the birds...
The sky above, dark and gray, rumbled as rain poured down, pelting the streets of the city beneath the sky here. Drenching it.
"Aquaria at last awoke, to try and save the land she sheltered. In the heavens, she fought her own foe, while beneath the mortals shed one another's blood. Her fury was known to them, though. Known as the fierce storm above, as she and her sister, together awake for the first time in centuries, did battle against an evil all others of the pantheon had fallen against."
...the flowing of the waters.
Blades clashed. The Outer Wall had fallen, and all defenders that did not flee to the Second Wall were crushed. Screams of fury echoed throughout the night, somehow heard all too clearly over the storm above. There no screams of fear. Only determination and rage. Pure, unbridled fury was the driving force here.
"But Aquaria was no warrior. The Lady of the Waters kept all secrets. Knew all that which was to come. Her fury could wash fleets aside – make lands once prosperous vanish beneath the waves... but she was no warrior. She was never given chance to fight, ever asleep in the slumber she slept in times of conflict. Her sister was the one who fought most. The mistress of the heavens, whose wrath could conjure mighty squalls and fierce hurricanes. The Storm-Maiden and the Sea-Maiden fought against their foe, but it was their nature that one yield to the other..."
The trembling of the leaves...
The Second Wall fell, and the defenders fell back to the third. Their assailants pushed onward, crushing the gardens that once lined the streets, shattering statues and monuments, and breaking every flag and banner they saw. There were no wounded left behind... all stragglers were slain.
"...and so it was that her sister's blade missed its target once, and their foe darted past and to the side, to where Aquaria stood giving aid. As The Lady of the Skies turned in desperation, her sister, her twin... her other half... slid off their opponent's blade – in the mortal lands below, lightning struck throughout the land so fiercely twas as if the sun shone through the clouds. A terrible, wicked wind picked up and knocked entire forests aside. And those mortals fighting paused in awe. Such was her grief."
...and the sorrow of the storm.
The third, and final, wall fell. The defenders did not fall back. They stood their ground and fought. They fought to their last breath, giving ground so grudgingly that their opponent's advanced only one inch in an entire day... for these were the Royal Knights of Aura, champions of the throne, and warriors unmatched in their trade. When the last blood was let, and the final knight fell, defiantly, to the ground... the attackers felt no sense of victory. In order to reach this point, the gates of White Hold, seat of Aura's royal house, they had lost hundreds... thousands... all to a mere seven hundred troops. Five hundred fully trained knights, two hundred squires. When the doors were breached to the citadel, the attackers had to climb a veritable mountain of bodies, both their own and their enemy's, to enter.
"The last goddess felt her follower's fear. Their distress, and their sorrow which nearly matched her own... and she felt her chosen warrior, her daughter among mortals... draw her last breath, reaching out in vain to someone, anyone, to save... not her... but another. The princess her daughter was given task to defend. The goddess decided then her daughter's wish would be granted. That the people who gave their lives would not have died in vain. When her foe struck her... she did not block the blow... nor did she simply receive it. Instead, when his blade entered into her and her form began to shift and her power wain... she repelled it. Such was the force unleashed the the clouds parted below to reveal a starless night. The goddess regained the power she had begun to lose, drawing more still from the will of the dead and the dying below. Her foe charged, sensing, perhaps, what she planned, but it was for naught. When his fel blade thrust forward, the goddess was gone. As he howled in fury, she smiled in triumph as she hid herself away. Far away from this man. Carried along by the hopes of her dead followers, she sealed herself within the last heir to the throne of the land so that, one day, she would ensure, personally, that it was restored."
A great shaking...
The last tattered banner of Aura hung from the highest tower for centuries afterward, kept aloft and strong against time by forces unknown to man. When finally it fell, it fell gracefully, falling from its weathered post to drift along the wind through the heavens. By some queer twist of fate or... perhaps... a clever design, the banner that had survived centuries of war, peace, and merciless time... found its way to be draped in the higher branch of a tree on a hill, surrounded by seven ancient columns and emerald grass until, at the bottom of the hill, the forest started once more. And in the distance, one could see the beginnings of a mountain. A mountain with four faces carved into it.
...a reed pipe.
Once, this place was known as Mystera. Once, this hill was known as Elhen Tatha, the Everlasting Slope, and once, the mountain was known as Etherea – The cornerstone of the realm of mortals... the only point which bypassed the divine realm and brushed against the void. Now, however...
...the first stirrings...
Now this realm was known as the Land of Fire, the hill was nameless, and the mountain was known as a monument. The Hokage's Monument... a symbol of the deeds of some of this lands' greatest leaders.
...of the omen of destruction.
"For she was a clever goddess – every bit as capable of adapting to change as her sister was at preparing for it. She knew her opportunity would only rise after generations had passed and her memory was all but forgotten. She knew she would have to wait until the land was as if she never was, and that no soul knew of her as anything but a myth or story. The goddess knew her power would wain and die until it was but a mere speck of what it once was, held aloft only by the faith of her chosen vessel and their descendents. Should at any time that faith disappear completely... the goddess knew she would die a true death, unlike those of her followers, who would reincarnate, and that of her sister, who could be restored, given enough time and faith. But the goddess knew, somehow, that somewhere along down the line, even if that faith faded, one descendant would believe in her existence, just enough, and she would reborn..."
"And then... the Lady of Storms would exact her wrath upon whatever remnants of her foe remained, with the help of her new child. Her champion. It would be a golden age that followed."