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“Farewell, Neuvillette,” Focalors said with a smile. “Thank you for the last five hundred years.”
And that was that, the divinity of Hydro Archon turned away and the rest was history. When Neuvillette woke up from his daze, he didn’t glance towards Furina who had wept on her throne. He was far too emotional to and if he did so, a rainstorm would occur, so he avoided it.
The most important thing at that moment was to subdue the All-Devouring Narwhal with the traveler to prevent it from further worsening the prophecy.
They defeated the Narwhal. Met the mysterious woman named Skirk.
She reminded them that the prophecy was probably in full swing so he, along with the traveler, flew back to Fontaine. Fortunately, the flood had receded when they returned and nobody was hurt badly. The damage and loss could be rebuilt, but humans’ lives were precious.
Wriothesley approached him and told him that everybody seemed to be safe, many exclaimed, in relief, that the prophecy was false. But Neuvillette knew the prophecy wasn’t false. It was only through Focalors’ wit and scheme that the devastating result could be avoided.
“Anyone has seen Lady Furina?” Neuvillette asked them.
They all looked at each other, at a loss.
“No... I think she’s...” Navia trailed off and her eyes wandered to Opera Epiclese.
Neuvillette turned his head, a little shocked. No one checked on her? He briefly felt a flare of dissatisfaction but then felt like a hypocrite himself. He walked briskly through the crowd, almost running back to the opera, he flew through flights of stairs to reach her balcony.
“Lady Furina.” He found her still slumped on her throne. He clenched his hands as his heart stuttered. “Lady Furina, everybody is safe. The prophecy is avoided.” He put a hand over his heart and lowered his head, waiting for her to register his words.
But she never responded.
“Lady Furina...?” Neuvillette raised his head, bewildered. He straightened and trod closer to her. “Do you hear me?”
No breathing.
Neuvillette always trusted his enhanced sense but for the first time in his life, he violently rejected what his sense told him. He rushed to her. “Lady Furina?” he called out in panic.
The moment he held her shoulder to shake her, she crumbled like a marionette without strings. Stiff, lifeless.
Neuvillette’s heart plunged into ice.
No no no no...
“Lady Furina? Furina!” Neuvillette checked her breath and her pulse.
Nothing.
No no no...
NO!
Neuvillette’s knees buckled and he fell on his knees before her throne, grasping desperately on her arms. “It can’t be.”
What went wrong?
They just beat the prophecy!
Focalors had sacrificed herself for this and gave Neuvillette his ancient power back.
Everything ought to be okay.
Yet why is Furina not breathing?!
“Furina...” Neuvillette whispered.
The wind outside picked up and the sky darkened rapidly.
But inside of the opera, there was only silence. Neuvillette gazed upon Furina’s closed eyes and lifeless face. Streaks of tears and also welled tears stuck on her long eyelashes. Neuvillette discarded his glove and wiped her tears for her.
His eyes widened. “Furina...”
Opera Epiclese around them faded into nothing but a dark stage with an eerie spotlight. On the stage, she danced. Her small steps made no sound but the rustles of her elaborate dress were somehow a better accompaniment to her careless dance. The same steps, the same dance, but if Focalors’ dance was pure, carefree, and divine. Furina’s dance was melancholic, methodical, and emotional.
The one hovering above Focalors when she danced was the giant blade of Indemnitium. But for Furina, it was the spotlight. Yet, compared to the giant executing blade, the spotlight felt more eerie, depressing, and suppressing like the pressure of the whole world that forced her to act for the last five hundred years.
“My heart. My sweet Furina.” The familiar, ethereal, voice of Focalors somehow resounded on the empty stage.
Furina’s eyes fluttered open but those mismatched eyes held no spar. Profound sadness in her eyes made the air thick. “Act 182376... when will it stop...” Furina murmured heartbreakingly.
“This is the last act, my sweetness,” Focalors said softly, appearing with a gentle glow into the spotlight. “One hundred eighty-two thousand three hundred seventy-six is the number.”
The string of numbers made no sense to Neuvillette but then Furina perked up.
“Really...? The one hundred eighty-two thousand three hundred seventy-seventh day of act will not come?”
“One hundred...” Neuvillette trembled. ‘She counted it all?’ His heart shattered. 'day by day...?'
Focalors held her tenderly. “Mhm... No more. You are free now.”
“Free...” Furina teared up. “How could I... I’m guilty... How am I—” she sobbed. “I can’t—it hurts so much, Mirror-me...” she wept. “182376 days are wasted... I cannot save anyone!”
“You did it, my heart. You’ve done so well, it’s actually my turn now,” Focalors whispered softly. “After the curtains fall, I will leave forever and you can stop counting the days. I have given the authority over hydro to the rightful owner, everyone will be saved.”
“Leave?” Of all things, Furina latched onto one word that filled her with dread. She hyperventilated. “Leave- you want to leave? You want to leave me too? D-don’t leave me, please. I’m already alone, don’t leave me even more alone!” she wailed incoherently.
“I figured you’d say so...” Focalors’ eyes lowered down. “I didn’t expect the trial to be so painful for you...” she breathed out meekly, clutching her hand over her chest in empathy.
Furina cried harder into her embrace. “It hurts so much...! I tried to be strong...”
Neuvillette’s tear fell. He clenched his hands and shame crushed him like nothing ever did before. “Furina...”
“And you are strong,” Focalors said.
“I can’t anymore, don’t leave me alone, please! They hate me—”
“That’s not true...” Neuvillette whispered.
“They wanted to hurt me—”
“We would never—” Neuvillette choked out.
“The water, mirror-me... it burns...!” Furina wept harder and clutched her hands to her chest.
Neuvillette staggered back, breathing raggedly. 'The water. The primordial water. The primordial water!' He cursed himself.
Focalors absently patted her. Her expression was disturbingly blank. “So, I take it you don’t want me to leave you alone. How about you come with me?”
Neuvillette snapped his head up in shock and terror. “Focalors—” he gritted his teeth in betrayal but on the spotlight, nothing could disturb the two separated halves.
Both Focalors and Furina were right there, but they felt so far away. “Lady Furina! Furina, please stay!” Neuvillette shouted. “We were wrong.” I was wrong. “Please let me make things right again. Don’t do this...” he begged in vain.
Focalors sighed. “But bear in mind, Furina. You will leave everybody you love and know. Is that okay?”
Furina raised her head. “I have nothing else. It’s gone... The children of Fontaine will hate me, a fake archon. I failed to save them, to save their family. Poisson... it’s all my fault...” she sobbed. “Even Neuvillette... he despised me now. Please, don’t leave me. You're the only one left.” She cried, pleading.
“Alright.” Focalors hugged her. “We were once one before, but after five hundred years, we have become our own individuals. So I meant to ask first. I wanted to leave you here because that’s what I wished, but now...” she sighed and offered her dainty hand. “I’ll take you with me, instead. My heart, let us break away from this world and reside among the stars of the real sky.”
“No...” Neuvillette felt faint. “Focalors, please...” he begged the divinity even though this was just a memory from Furina’s tears.
“Yes,” Furina answered determinedly and took Focalors’ hand.
The entire stage cracked, shattering into void just like Neuvillette’s heart. A glint of a sword appeared above and everything was cut short.
Neuvillette stumbled back and landed on his butt right before the throne, back to the real world. “No...” he choked out. “Furina...”
Neuvillette surged back and held her gloved hands, the person in front of him no longer responded. Long departed while Neuvillette carelessly left her alone as she wept. There was no more warmth that only she had before.
The rain outside grew harder, each droplet that fell felt like a painful small punch on the skin.
“Why...” Neuvillette choked back. “Why did you leave... We did it. Fontaine is saved. Why...?!”
Without her, he wouldn’t have understood humanity. Without her, the last five hundred years would have been nothing for him. Without her, what was the point of saving Fontaine?
Neuvillette forgave all people of Fontaine’s sins, but he lost the most innocent one in this ordeal?
Is this justice?!
Thunders boomed and nothing else could be heard except for rain. To Neuvillette, nothing else could be heard except from his inner despair.
Traveler, Clorinde, and Wriothesley barged into the opera in search of the missing Iudex, deeply suspecting the sudden change of extreme weather was caused by him. They ran to the first spot they knew Neuvillette and Furina would be.
“Neuvillette!” Aether shouted when he reached the balcony and they were greeted with the sight of the ever-steadfast Iudex on his knees, weeping before the usually flamboyant archon.
Aether paused and his body stilled with a sinking feeling, Wriothesley walked past the blonde traveler.
“What’s wrong? Is Lady Furina alright?” Wriothesley demanded with mild concern, missing the whole ordeal meant he thought the best of the situation.
Clorinde, however, stepped forward and held back her tears in disbelief. “She’s fine, right? Monsieur...”
Neuvillette’s breath hitched.
The storm outside billowed even fiercer.
“She’s gone.” He didn’t mean it to sound biting, resentful, and bitter. But it did.
“Impossible,” Aether gasped. “She was fine before--!” he choked back. “She was—I saw her—” he stumbled off his own words and staggered. ‘What have I done...?’
“No!” Clorinde refused to believe it. She hurried forward and held Furina’s hand, grasping for a straw of hope but her lady was cold. So, so cold. In the years Clorinde knew Furina and protected her, the lady’s temperature had been warm and a little cool sometimes, but never this cold. “Archons...” she lost her strength.
Wriothesley, the only one who wasn’t present for the trial or even knew about it, exclaimed in disbelief and shock. “How could this happen?! Wait, there must be something more, I’ll call Sigewinne,” he exclaimed and turned back to run through the storm to fetch his trusted medic.
When Wriothesley left, it occurred just how ironic the situation was to Neuvillette. So he laughed, he laughed loudly without feelings.
“Five hundred years of sacrifice just to lose her life in the end...” Neuvillette grasped her hand tightly and she would never squeeze his hand back now.
He glared murderously towards the broken Oratrice. “Is this justice to you, Focalors?!”
Outside, the storm grew so powerful that Wriothesley couldn’t even make a trip back to the opera with Sigewinne. Everyone screamed and evacuated in panic, scrambling back for the boats as the water level reached their knees again.
The Hydro Dragon Sovereign wept before the late archon. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry. I should have checked on you before I left. I shouldn’t have assumed you would be here when I’m back.” He held Furina’s hand and rubbed the scar from the Primordial Water on her hand. “The trial was a mistake...” he whispered.
And Focalors took this mistake seriously.
She was truly the most faithful and devoted Judge, the divine Hydro Archon. Cruel to oneself and cruel to others.
She delivered a just punishment for them. For him.
Focalors called Furina her heart, but didn’t she know Furina was also his heart?
The rain outside refused to stop as the Hydro Dragon cradled the stiff body of his Hydro Archon.