Eidolons of Gran Pulse: Shiva

By the grace of Etro, twin rulers arise from your icy thrones.
Come forth, sisters of Winter wastes.
In you, our trusts are placed.
Let not your presence remain unknown,
Lest your enemies’, you do condone.
Stiria, heal comrades with haste,
As Nix destroys those in frost encased,
And soon shall the tyrant be dethroned.

Two tires screech against the cement,
Knowing their speed will suffice.
A wall of ice, your weapon wielding.
Diamond Dust, freeze those of hot temperament.
A name in blood, a pact of ice.
Shiva shall rise, her bond eternal and unyielding.