Chapter Text
They say that life is full of unexpected moments. If it were any normal day, today should be the same. Yet nothing is constant in life. In the timeless grandeur of the Grand Opera Epiclese, where the echoes of past dramas lingered in the very air, Furina found herself thrust into the crucible of her own trial. The stage was set for a confrontation that had been foretold in whispers and prophecies centuries before, yet now it unfolded with an unexpected urgency.
As the weight of destiny pressed upon her shoulders, Furina stood with resolve, her mask concealing the calmness in her mind assessing the current situation before her.
( Was this the grand trial promised to her by the ages, or merely another twist in the labyrinth of fate? )
Looking upon the stage, the people involved delved into a discussion, dissecting the meaning behind the stone plate that had miraculously appeared at this pivotal timing. Neuvillette, suspecting her knowledge, had previously questioned Furina about it, and in actuality, his suspicions proved correct—she was already aware of the original sin and Egeria's actions. She did experience it herself after all.
Despite that, Furina maintained the facade of a naïve young goddess heartbroken by the betrayal of her people. Concealing her true emotions beneath a veneer of innocence, she watched from the sidelines with feigned tears, patiently awaiting the unraveling of truth.
As the layers of deception were peeled away and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the revelation of the prophecy rang out like a clarion call. It was the moment she had been waiting for, the signal for her next move.
( At last. The stage is set. It's showtime. )
As everyone was still trying to grasp the truth behind their existence, a haunting laughter echoed throughout the grand hall, drawing the attention of every bewildered onlooker toward the now proven fake goddess.
Rising from her chair, Furina took out a unique item bestowed upon her by Egeria long ago. Resembling a hydro vision with almost similar functionality, it was a precious gift given to her, who wasn't blessed with an actual vision, to wield only when the situation called for it. Each activation of its power threatened to push it to its breaking point, a reminder of its finite endurance. Thus, she had been careful using it previously but this time she will be going all out on for this moment.
With the faux vision, she wove a staircase of hydro and gracefully descended to the stage. Dust or not, she theatrically brushed off nonexistent specks from her attire, adding an air of regal nonchalance. Striding confidently toward the center of the stage, she summoned her favorite sword with an ethereal glow.
"Congratulations on finding the truth," she announced with a disarming smile. The echoes of a broken-hearted woman from moments ago seemed like a distant illusion. "Unfortunately, since things have come to this point, do forgive me for this."
At the utterance of those words, all the doors in the opera house abruptly shut tight. The frantic attempts of the gardes to open them were in vain as they remained locked.
"Furina, what are you—" Before the protest could be completed, a dark metallic chain manifested, holding the sovereign in place. To the dragon's surprise, he found himself unable to break free.
"Sorry, my dearest sovereign, but just stay there for a bit, okay?" Furina gave a playful wink at Neuvillette, adding a touch of whimsy to the unexpected turn of events.
Uncertain about the effectiveness of the dark metallic chain procured from a Natlan dealer she painstakingly found, Furina had taken this precautionary measure. With Neuvillette in control of all water, utilizing hydro was not an option, compelling her to rely on this acquired restraint.
Thankfully, as the chain tightened around Neuvillette's form, a glimmer of hope pierced through the shadows of doubt. It held him at bay, granting her precious moments to set her plans into motion. Was it the efficacy of the chain or Neuvillette's own reluctance to break free that bought her time? The answer mattered little, for in either case, the advantage lay squarely in Furina's hands.
She then turned to gaze upon the audience. A symphony of bewilderment, fear, and even amusement colored their expressions. "As expected of my children," Furina silently mused. Even in such an unreasonable situation, they reveled in the drama unfolding before them.
Furina cleared her throat, her captivating presence, as always, commanding attention.
"How do you like the show so far, dear citizens of Fontaine? Does it match your taste?" she inquired, her voice dripping with an eerie sweetness that sent shivers down spines. "There's a famous saying that ignorance is bliss. Tick-tock, your moment of bliss has abruptly ended."
"Lady Furina. What do you meant by that?" a curious member of the audience inquired, their voice wavering with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The dim glow of the venue heightened the tension as all eyes focused on Furina's enigmatic response.
A villainous smile graced her lips as she answered, "Well now, a secret would still be a secret if no one knew of it, right?"
Her words lingered in the air, and an unsettling silence engulfed the audience. The realization dawned on them, and horror painted everyone's expression as the weight of the fake goddess's words sank in.
( The character of the villain had now entered the stage. )
As Furina commanded the stage as the main character, a fiery attack shot past her from the side. The Knave leapt towards her, but her advance was intercepted by the gardemeks.
"Impatient as always, aren't you, dear Knave?" Furina remarked, sparing a knowing glance for the harbinger. "Or should I called you by your real name?"
In that climactic moment, Furina silently mouthed the Knave's true name, sending shockwaves through the harbinger's being. The sheer audacity of Furina's knowledge left the Knave genuinely surprised, though in hindsight, what cause for astonishment was there? Furina wielded her own clandestine network, after all. As the Knave's attention wavered, the gardemeks seized the opportunity, swiftly and strategically pushing the Knave to the side.
Simultaneously, the opera house transformed into a controlled domain under Furina's command. Each gardemeks, like a sentinel, stood at attention, ensuring not a single person could approach her. It was Fontaine's fortune to have geniuses like Alain Guillotine since Furina had personally requested this feature from the inventor himself centuries ago.
On the other side of the grand hall, the Traveler leaped onto the stage together with their flying companion, Paimon. Furina's perceptive gaze followed their every move.
Once they were at a good distance from her Furina turned toward the Traveler. "At last, the hero steps into the limelight," she declared with measured authority.
Then, with a commanding gesture, she demanded, "Raise your blade, Traveler."
The Traveler, uncertain of Furina's intentions, halted their advance. A silent exchange of looks occurred between the Traveler and Paimon, not knowing why she suddenly gave such command.
Fixing her gaze toward the golden-haired Traveler, Furina continued with a tone of both grace and determination, "Just before this, you told me you are my witness. Therefore, I'll give you a chance."
With a calculated scheme unfolding in her mind, Furina understood that for her plan to succeed, she needed to thrust someone into the unforgiving spotlight. Considering these two outsiders' eagerness to involve themselves in this nation's affairs, she decided to use them to her advantage.
With a mesmerizing fluidity, she raised her sword, and a vortex of potent hydro energies enshrouded the gleaming blade, capturing the ambient light with a brilliance that elevated the drama of the moment to an awe-inspiring crescendo. Unknowingly cracks started to form on the surface of her faux vision.
"Fight me and win," Furina proclaimed, her words echoed through the silent grand hall. The significance of the challenge hung in the air, and the gleaming blade in Furina's hands served as a visual testament to the gravity of the impending duel. "Only through victory will everyone be spare in this hall."
The grand stage was set, the sword poised for action, and the stakes heightened to an unprecedented level. In that brief moment of hesitation, the Traveler grappled with the choice before them.
"Come now. You did prove that I'm not the Hydro Archon," Furina taunted sarcastically. "Isn't it your responsibility to see it till the end?"
Yet, the Traveler still remained rooted. Furina, sensing the hesitance, chose not to linger in the anticipation any longer. She took the initiative, stepping forward with calculated grace. The clash of steel echoed through the hall, a prelude to the impending battle that would decide the fate of those present.
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From her seat in the audience, Navia leaned in close to Clorinde, her voice barely a whisper amidst the tension. "Clorinde, have you ever beheld Lady Furina in the heat of combat?"
Clorinde couldn't tear her gaze from the spectacle unfolding before them, her breath caught in her throat. "Never. Not once in all my years by her side have I witnessed her wield a true blade. Props, yes, but never the steel of battle."
"Then how do you gauge her prowess?" Navia pressed, her eyes flickering between Clorinde and the duel.
Clorinde's words hung heavy in the air, tinged with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "It defies description... Beautiful, yet flawed. A dance of skill and imperfection, yet utterly captivating."
As the duel raged on, the grand stage a battleground of swirling emotions, Furina's voice cut through the tension like a blade, demanding attention and respect.
"How does it feel with the lives of other people resting on your shoulders, hm?" She said as their swords clashed, the sound resonated through the grand hall like thunder. The Traveler grit their teeth as they parried her sword.
Despite her outward confidence, a different tale unfolded in truth. Centuries had passed since Furina last wielded a sword in actual combat and the Traveler proved to be even stronger than the rumors suggested. Yet as the metallic symphony of their clash echoed through the hall, her muscles remembered, instinctively dancing to a long-forgotten rhythm. The echoes of a bygone era reverberated through her every move, a testament to the skills she had learned from the very best. Yet amidst the chaos, she couldn't shake the nagging certainty that her mentor would have chastised her for such elementary errors.
After a few more artful exchanges, Furina, now attuned to the ebb and flow of battle, sensed the opportune moment. She decided it was time to set the next part of her plan in motion.
At that moment, the Traveler's movements suddenly became erratic, their widened eyes reflecting the realization that control had slipped from their grasp. Observing this, Furina smirked, knowing that her special 'trick' had taken effect. The faux vision now already broken and have lost its glow. Her top hat had fallen from her head and like the unfolding act of a tragic play, the hero's sword plunged into the villain's body.
( Perfect. )
A collective gasp swept through the silent audience as they witnessed the scene. Furina staggered backward, a laugh escaping her lips. With defiant resolve, extracted the weapon from her own body before collapsing on a pool of her own red blood. The grand hall held its breath, a tense hush settling over the onlookers.
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While everyone remained frozen in shock, the one who managed to react swiftly was Sigewinne, who had been on standby just moments ago. With a pallid expression, she sprinted toward Furina as swiftly as she could, breaking through the stillness fueled by a mixture of urgency and dread.
The chains that held Neuvillette slowly retracted, and the gardemeks halted, each one veering off on their own as their purpose fulfilled. Without any moment to lose, Neuvillette descended from his elevated seat to the stage. As he gazed upon Furina, a complex array of emotions danced across his countenance—a mixture of anger, concern, puzzlement, and sorrow, all manifesting in the subtle nuances of his pained expression. It was perhaps the most emotionally expressive display they had witnessed on his face since he assumed the role of Iudex.
Fake or not, her life is the utmost priority right now. Whatever reason she had for doing what she did can be handled later. He believed wholeheartedly that she had a good reason for all this. Just before he could issue any orders, a slow, rhythmic clapping pierced through the silence, emanating from the shadows. The mysterious applause cut through the stillness.
"Bravo, bravo, an interesting duel indeed," a hauntingly familiar voice praised, sending shivers down spines. It sounds like Furina's yet at the same time not her. The spectators exchanged puzzled glances, their eyes darting to find the source of this unexpected applause.
"The Oratrice?" someone whispered.
As if in response, pure hydro energy surged forth from the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, swirling and converging into a familiar figure that materialized before their eyes. A figure bearing an uncanny resemblance to Furina, but with an ethereal yet ominous aura that spoke of divine presence.
Neuvillette took a few steps forward and confronted the figure. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The lookalike glanced at the dragon before giving a chilling smile.
"I'm Focalors," the figure declared, an air of divine confidence surrounding them. "You know, the god."
A hushed whisper, like a soft breeze, rippled through the audience, their collective disbelief tangible. The realization set in— the person they believed to be the Hydro Archon wasn't, and now another with the same face emerged, boldly claiming to be the true Hydro Archon. The atmosphere crackled with uncertainty as doubt and confusion spread like wildfire among the startled crowd.
"Focalors? Does that mean you are the real Hydro Archon?" The Knave inquired, her steps bringing her closer to the proclaimed god.
"But that appearance..." Navia's voice trailed off, her gaze fixed on the stage. As the words lingered, Focalors gave a sinister chuckle.
"Aren't I beautiful?" Focalors twirled gracefully, the stage lights playing off the divine visage. "I specifically requested Egeria to make me look similar to my lovely Furina after all."
"Hold on. If you're the actual god, what role does Furina play? Why is she masquerading as you?" Paimon questioned. "Paimon is really at lost now."
Paimon isn't the only one as everyone in the grand opera house all share the same sentiments. Looking around Focalors lightly chuckled.
"Quite the intriguing question you've posed there little one. But since I'm in a good mood, I suppose I'll indulge you," Focalors said with a whimsical tone. "For your first question, you all are aware that Egeria transformed the oceanids into humans, right? A considerable span of time has passed since then, and now, almost all Fontainians are faux humans."
"Furina, the enduring countenance of the 'Hydro Archon' for nearly five centuries," Focalors declared with a fond smile, "stand as the last true human of Fontaine. In the eyes of the gods, this makes her the sinless one amidst the sea of sinners."
Without waiting for any reaction, she continued, "As for why she acted as me, well, of course it is to save all of you ungrateful sinners. Such is our agreement after all. Alas, it ended up as a tragedy in the end."
Her said without losing the sound of amusement fron her voice. This prompted everyone to look at the goddess with puzzled expressions.
"The citizens of Fontaine will trial and execute their 'fake god,' only for them to realize that it is none other than that very fake god who had been silently safeguarding them for five centuries from the actual Goddess they revered," she remarked. "And now, with their protector no more, the long-awaited prophecy will unfold as dictated by the heavens."
The revelation hung in the air, casting a sense of foreboding over the audience, as they grappled with the sick twist. A multitude of questions arose, yet everyone felt like their tongues were tied.
"When Egeria died, I found myself chosen as her successor. Frankly, considering the mess she left behind, I thought it was a burdensome duty. Thus, I forsook this land," Focalors revealed with an air of detachment.
"Why would I waste my time on something certain to be doomed?" Focalors nonchalantly shrugged, her indifference permeating the air.
"Furina, Furina. My most beloved human. I can't fathom why you're so desperate to save this nation and its people," she said, her gaze shifting towards Siegwinne's frantic attempts to staunch the bleeding from Furina's torso.
"I remember that day when you were desperately begging me to not flood this nation myself. Since it was you, who asked for it, I thought it would be fun for us to play a very special game," Focalors said.
"A.. game?" Neuvillette asked sensing something not right.
Putting her index finger in front of her lips, as if revealing a long-guarded secret, Focalors smiled and said, "For 500 years, Furina de Fontaine must act as the Hydro Archon."
"During the time Furina de Fontaine reigned as the acting Hydro Archon, the God Focalors wasn't allowed to bring harm to this nation and its people," Focalors continued, emphasizing the terms. "And Furina de Fontaine mustn't let anyone suspect her identity during her reign nor should Focalors reveal this to others as well. If she succeeds, then the God Focalors will help to stop the prophecy when the time comes."
"Then..." Neuvillette's voice faded, a realization slowly settling in.
The notion of assuming another's identity for five centuries, shouldering a burden not originally hers, and enduring it all in solitude until the very end is something no one could hope to imagine.
( Can a mere human be able to maintain themselves while drowning in such insanity? )
"Just a bit more and she could have reached the 500th-anniversary mark of her reign," Focalors said with a touch of cruelty. "Thanks to this wonderful performance you people have planned, her 500 years of suffering ended up in vain, and now the sole winner of this game is none other than me."
"Then again, even if she were to emerge victorious, the prophecy would still unfold," Focalors shrugged nonchalantly. "The assurance I gave her about halting the prophecy was nothing more than a fortuitous misdirection after all."
"It was entertaining to see how endearing your efforts over five centuries were. You even brought a sovereign under your reign," Focalors added, her tone laced with mock admiration as she glanced at Neuvillette.
A hushed murmur swept through the audience as. Focalors, amused by the situation, gave a hearty laugh.
Neuvillette could feel anger surging within him, directed not only towards the usurper wearing Furina's skin in front of him but also towards himself for failing to realize the truth even after four centuries.
Meanwhile, as Focalors delivered her monologue, Sigewinne, who was tending to Furina, couldn't believe her eyes. The pool of blood beneath the lady just moments ago miraculously flowed back through the wounds and as if her skin were akin to fabric, the gaping hole at her torso seamlessly closed up, resembling the meticulous work of a skilled weaver.
"Alas, that naïve dream of yours to save everyone was nothing more than a pipedream," Focalors declared, shaking her head with an air of condescension.
Suddenly a similar voice halted the goddess movement.
"I wonder about that," Furina countered, her voice cutting through the solemn atmosphere, drawing everyone's attention toward her. Struggling against the overpowering lights above, Furina squinted and pulled herself up from the ground.
"Lady—" Sigewinne attempted to hold her back, but Furina gently patted the young melusine's head and offered a reassuring smile.
Despite the concerned whispers swirling around her, Furina's gaze remained fixed upon Focalors, a steely determination burning in her eyes. "It has been far too long since our paths last crossed," she declared, her voice cutting through the murmurs with unwavering resolve. "The last encounter, if memory serves me right, was when we struck that fateful agreement."
"Your sudden disclosure," Furina continued, her tone tinged with a mix of resignation and defiance, "while unexpected, has spared me the burden of unraveling this tangled web alone."
A wry smile curved her lips as she addressed the captive audience, her words laced with a bitter truth. "To reveal to these people that their true archon has long forsaken them would indeed deliver a devastating blow," she remarked, her gaze sweeping across the faces of those gathered before her.
"But in the end, it seems almost everyone achieved their purpose," Furina chuckled. "The aim of this 'trap' was to extract the truth from the hydro archon, after all," Furina continued, her words resonating through the hall. "And now, they have both heard and witnessed the truth firsthand."
She glanced toward the individuals intended to be the puppeteers of this grand theatrical spectacle, causing those involved to slightly flinch under the weight of her scrutiny.
"A piece of advice," Furina's voice dripped with sly amusement, a wicked smile dancing upon her lips. "Before you strike, it would serve you well to study your prey thoroughly."
Though her words carried a hint of sarcasm, Furina couldn't help but acknowledge the source of their confidence. For centuries, she had meticulously crafted the persona of the proud and haughty Goddess, a facade so flawless that even Neuvillette, her faithful companion for four centuries, never once questioned its authenticity.
"How intriguing..." Focalors' voice resonated with curiosity as she scrutinized Furina, her keen gaze lingering on the supposed stab wounds that adorned her form. "Moments ago, your heart ceased to beat..."
Furina's laughter rang out, a melodious echo of defiance in the face of uncertainty. "Ah, indeed," she chuckled, her tone brimming with a blend of pride and nonchalance. "I daresay, that was perhaps my finest performance yet, wouldn't you agree?"
"But truly," Furina's tone shifted, a solemn edge creeping into her words as she addressed the gathered audience. "Initially, I accepted the unfolding events as inevitable. It wasn't until the tragedy in Poisson reached my ears that I began to suspect something is amiss." Furina's gaze shifted towards Navia and afterwards toward Clorinde.
"Indeed," she admitted, her voice carrying a weight of finality as her hand brushed against the broken faux vision at her side. "Save for Meropide, I took it upon myself to erect seals, barriers to prevent any unwanted leakage."
A tense silence settled over the audience as Furina's words reverberated through the hall, the implication of her confession sinking in. "Why do you think Fontaine has endured through the ages?" she challenged, her gaze piercing as she dared anyone to question her methods.
"Of course, compared to our esteemed Iudex's, mine may be deemed a bit low quality," she admitted, punctuating her statement with a casual shrug. "But even so, it shouldn't break anytime soon."
Her proclamation resonated through the hall, a declaration of unwavering confidence. "If, by some extraordinary circumstance, it were to break, without my knowledge to boot," Furina continued, "Then someone or something might have tampered it on purpose."
"I do have my list of suspects after all," Furina declared, her tone tinged with resolve as she began to stride purposefully towards Focalors.
With the poise of a queen and the grace of a dancer, Furina navigated through the gathered onlookers—the Knave, the Traveler, and Neuvillette—all of whom instinctively made way for her.
"One," Furina's gaze landed on Neuvillette as she strode past him, locking onto Neuvillette with a knowing look, acknowledging the power he held, even in its yet unfulfilled potential.
"Two," pressing onward, her eyes shifted to the Knave. Furina recognized the strength harbored within the depths of the Fourth Fatui Harbinger's ambitious soul, a strength tempered by cunning and ambition.
"Three," she then fixed her gaze upon the Traveler as she passed them as well, a hero celebrated in other nations, embodying the strength that transcended borders and tales.
"And finally..." Furina's voice trailed off as she halted near her fallen hat, her eyes locking with Focalors, the true hydro archon, the embodiment of divine power. The one whom she had masqueraded as for centuries, a charade as delicate as it was dangerous. "Four."
"Of course, those were merely my initial conjectures," she continued, her tone laced with resignation. "As the so-called 'God of Justice', my hands are bound by the chains of uncertainty, lacking the concrete proof needed to substantiate my claims. And let us not forget the chaos I inadvertently sowed during Lyney's trial," she added, her gaze falling to the ground in a rare display of vulnerability. "Hence my 'inaction,' which has only served to fuel the flames of this unfolding drama."
Furina then sighed.
"The tragedy of Poisson, those stone tablets that appeared now of all times, and the soon unwanted visitor who somehow made its way here," Furina's voice resonating with a dramatic cadence that seized the attention of the audience.
"It was all your doing, wasn't it?" The question hung in the air, allowing the weight of Furina's words to settle. "Has the abyss finally consumed your love for humanity and your sanity along with it?"
Even if Focalors didn't respond, Furina understood the goddess in front of her well. Of all things, Focalors lured the beast who traverse the sea of star to Teyvat using the primordial sea water. With the seal being tampered with, the unexpected flooding happens which took the lives of the people.
The being she once knew had been consumed by darkness, her descent into madness and malevolence evident in every shadow that danced across her features. Even the sacred duty of an Archon to nurture and safeguard humanity had failed to shield her from corruption.
( The one I once knew is lost to me. )
With a bitter smile twisting her lips, Furina whispered, "Perhaps it was my own blindness that prevented me from seeing the truth sooner." But then, her tone shifted, a spark of defiance igniting in her eyes. "Well, just like you said, thanks for this wonderful trap my beloved people had laid upon me on a silver platter, an interesting idea popped into my mind."
"I just have to follow the script accordingly until one point and then make it my own afterwards," Furina mused, bending down to retrieve her fallen hat and sweeping off the dust with a practiced flourish. "But one problem still remains. How am I to lure you out?"
With a graceful flip of her hat, she deftly settled it back atop her head. "Then it struck me." Her eyes alighted with a devious glint. "A situation where you had no choice but to appear—my death"
"I see. But as far as I remember, the curse that I placed on you only for longevity, not undying." Focalors commented. Then she glanced at Neuvillette and said. "I don't suppose the dragon has something to do with that"
"It's neither yours nor Neuvillette's," Furina said with a wry smile, a touch of melancholy accentuating her features.
"Then where did y— ah..." Focalors' eyes widened with realization as she observed a knowing smile on Furina's face. "Egeria..."
"I'd say, the Mistress of All Waters granted me a very useful blessing," Furina revealed.
"Three times," Furina explained, raising three fingers to emphasize the significance. "It's the number of times I'm allowed to cheat death itself."
( Actually the stab just now was my last chance. )
"Hmmm," Focalors acknowledged, a hint of surprise in her tone. "I guess it slipped my knowledge even though I've always been watching you."
Furina simply shrugged, an air of nonchalance that only heightened the lingering tension in the hall.
"But now, I stand before you, alive," Furina declared, her words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Thus, I claim victory, for it was you who unveiled the truth."
Her unwavering gaze locked onto Focalors, a challenge burning in her eyes as she spoke. "Since the rules of our game were built on deception, let us rewrite them. Let it be decreed that the God Focalors shall heed the wishes of Furina de Fontaine."
The sacred pact forged between them was an unbreakable bond, one that even the divine could not defy. Aware of her own mortality and limitations, Furina understood that victory lay not in brute strength, but in the subtle manipulation of fate itself.
"I see," Focalors mused, her tone dripping with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. "So this was your true aim all along. Very well, then. What is your wish, Furina? Will you ask for Fontaine to be untouched once more? You know it would be futile. Perhaps it is time to accept—"
"Focalors," Furina cut through the goddess's words with a commanding presence, causing her to fall into an abrupt silence. "Though you may hold dominion over this nation as its assigned Archon, but the master of this grand opera is me." With her sword in her hand, Furina declared with a regal poise that resonated with the weight of authority.
"As per our agreement.." Furina's voice momentarily softened, her eyes closing in a moment of contemplation.
"Focalors," she pronounced as she opened her eyes, her gaze lowering towards the ground. Then, with an eerie calm and emotionless eyes, she looked directly at Focalors and uttered,
"Kill yourself."
Once again, the command cuts through the silence, echoing in the grand hall like the resolute strike of a conductor's baton signaling the climax of an operatic masterpiece. An oppressive stillness enveloped the onlookers, rendering them silent, caught in the gravity of the unfolding drama.
Suddenly the Oratrice glow and a huge amount of energy came out of it. High above, right at the center of the stage, the energy condensed and form a huge hydro blade.
"Pftt.. HAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHA," the goddess laughed manically, the sound bouncing off the walls like discordant notes in the symphony of destiny.
"I see. So that's why you have been diligently collecting all those energies all this time," she said hysterically, a deranged excitement dancing in her eyes. "All just to craft a weapon that could kill a god. To kill ME."
"What a splendid irony. A god that will be killed by the faith of her people," Focalors declared, her words a sardonic melody that filled the hall. "Ever since we were young, you always knew how to entertain people."
"Marvelous. You truly are my most beloved human," Focalors added, a smile playing on her divine lips, a moment of eerie admiration amidst the unfolding cosmic drama.
"As you wished then," Focalors finally acquiesced, her acceptance of the command rippling through the air with a sense of ominous finality.
With a twirl, Focalors gracefully took the spotlight. Her dance on the stage was a mesmerizing spectacle, captivating everyone in the grand hall. Despite facing her own execution, there was an air of unyielding poise in her movements.
Furina couldn't help but sigh internally. To think that, in the end, it all came to this. For half a millennium, she had clung to a fragile hope, yearning for the day when the true goddess would rise again, reclaiming her rightful place. For her cherished friend, whom she had once regarded as a sister, to emerge from the shadows of darkness and embrace her glory once more. Alas, only when casualties mounted did Furina reluctantly accept the painful truth – the Focalors she knew from her childhood was no more.
Even so, Furina didn't blame Focalors. Perhaps, she mused, it was her own failing that led to Focalors' descent into the abyss. If only she had intervened sooner, if only she had reached out a guiding hand in the darkness, if only... she had the right answer, perhaps the world would not be marred by such twisted fate.
The weight of realization settled heavily on Furina's shoulders as she observed the divine dance unfolding before her. At the end of her dance, Focalors positioned herself with eerie precision directly below the colossal hydro sword that loomed overhead.
With an extravagant bow, Focalors fixed her gaze solely on Furina, a flicker of surprise crossing her divine features before a serene, knowing smile graced her lips. Every eye in the hall turned to Furina, but she remained oblivious to the tears streaming down her left cheek. Even the thickest of a mask would crack at some point.
"It has been quite the spectacle," Focalors declared, her voice resonating with a chilling elegance that seemed to freeze the very air around them. "Farewell, Furina."
As much as every fiber of her being screamed to look away, Furina held fast, her gaze unwavering. With a determination etched into every line of her face, she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword, steeling herself to witness Focalors' final moments until the very end.
With Focalors' final words hanging in the air, the colossal hydro blade descended, accentuated by an ominous whoosh that reverberated through the grand hall. The spectators bore witness to the dramatic and tragic end of Fontaine's hydro archon as the blade met its mark.
The goddess dissipated, scattering into bubbles of hydro energy. Some fragments gracefully swirled toward Neuvillette, merging with him, while with a solemn thud, the gnosis rolled to the floor. Furina approached, a mix of sorrow and relief in her eyes, as she picked up the hydro gnosis.
Momentarily Furina held the gnosis to her heart. "Even if there's no one to mourn for you, rest assured that I will. Farewell, my friend," Furina whispered to herself, a eulogy for a fallen goddess.
With a heavy heart, she held the gnosis for a moment longer before donning her mask once more and facing the audience.
"The show haven't reached it conclusion yet, it be best if everyone evacuate the place now." Furina proclaimed to the crowd, her voice cutting through the lingering confusion like a clarion call of warning.
Her people, still grappling to digest the recent events, found themselves further entangled in confusion by Furina's cryptic warning. A palpable tension hung in the hall, an ominous prelude to an unforeseen climax. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the very atmosphere seemed to thrum with an otherworldly energy.
"Right on time, our special visitor will drop by soon," Furina continued calmly, her gaze fixed upon the colossal hydro blade embedded at the center of the stage.
A resounding crack echoed through the hall as the hydro blade's fissure suddenly extended, creating an enigmatic fracture in the fabric of reality itself.
"Rejoice, Knave, for you will be meeting your lovable colleague soon," Furina declared, her words laced with a subtle hint of sarcasm.
The crack transformed into a dark dimensional hole, and with a dramatic entrance, a colossal whale, the All-devouring Narwhal emerged from the rift. Neuvillette swiftly tried to subdue it. The narwhal then charged at the stage where Neuvillette then created a shield.
"Though I expected it somewhat, seeing it in person is truly an incredible sight I'd say." Furina muttered at the back calmly. "So this is the creature known to devour everything."
As Neuvillette's shield shattered and he was thrust backward, the narwhal redirected its wrath toward the Fontainians gathered at the hall's exit, poised to unleash its devastating hunger upon them.
Yet before it could devour anyone, the long sought-after prisoner everyone had been tirelessly searching for in the past few weeks came out of the portal. The eleventh of the Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia, arrived in his Foul Legacy Form and continued to fight it.
Amidst the chaos and surprise that engulfed the hall, Furina remained eerily composed, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil unfolding around her. Unbeknownst to the others, she had orchestrated this moment behind the scenes, striking a clandestine deal with Tartaglia to ensure his involvement in her plan. Unlike the Knave, the battle-hungry Harbinger proved to be a more willing ally, his penchant for combat aligning with her objectives.
Then together with Neuvillette, they manage to chase back the beast into the portal back. Floating in the middle of the hall, Tartaglia who was already battered at this point, looks towards the people on the stage. He then gave a thumbs down before he too fell into the portal as well.
As the tension eased and the chaos subsided, the stage became a gathering place for the cast of vision holders, their footsteps echoing like a drumbeat of destiny in the hushed aftermath.
Approaching Neuvillette with purposeful strides, Furina's presence commanded attention as she extended the hydro gnosis towards him. "Take this. As the impartial Iudex of our land, the final decision now rests with you," she declared, her gaze unwavering as it bore into his soul. "Whether you save Fontaine or not that up to you."
( It was for this moment I brought you here after all. )
There was a fleeting hesitation in the dragon's eyes, a flicker of doubt amidst the weight of responsibility, before he accepted the gnosis from Furina's outstretched hands.
Turning her attention to the gathered vision holders, Furina's voice carried a solemn urgency. "As for the rest of you, the time for preparation is at hand. Each of you still has a crucial role to play in grand opera. I already sent some heads up as well to the others including the Duke of Meropide, " she announced, her words a stark reminder of the impending calamity foretold in prophecy. "The flood from the prophecy will soon be upon us. Be ready."
"And what about you?" Navia's voice trembled with concern as she posed the question.
"Fate cannot be defied," Furina replied, her gaze fixed upon the looming throne above them. "Fontaine must drown, and the 'hydro archon' must remain upon her throne, weeping for her people."
With a resigned sigh, she continued, "Only when the conditions are met will the curtain fall on this tragic spectacle."
"Enough chatter," Furina declared, her tone brooking no argument. "There is still much to be done. The show has not ended yet."
As everyone filed out of the opera house, leaving Furina seemingly alone, a familiar presence lingered behind her. Though she did not turn yet, she knew without a doubt the identity of the person who remained.
"Do you have anything to say, my dearest judge?" Furina inquired as she turned around, locking eyes with the now completed Hydro Sovereign standing before her.
In that shared gaze, Furina detected a plethora of unspoken emotions swirling between them. Was he enraged at being drawn into this intricate drama, or disillusioned to discover that his supposed equal was naught but a mortal cursed by fate? The weight of the silence bore down upon them, and Furina held her breath, awaiting Neuvillette's response.
"...After this whole thing is over, let's have a long talk," Neuvillette finally said, his words breaking the silence and hanging in the air like a promise yet to be fulfilled.
Furina was momentarily taken aback by his declaration before a gentle smile graced her lips, and she closed her eyes in acceptance. "Of course, my dear Iudex," she murmured, her voice carrying a tone of solemn agreement. "As you wish."
With a nod, Neuvillette then vanished from her presence in the form of hydro energy, leaving Furina momentarily in solitude. Suddenly, a voice echoed through the grand hall, startling her.
"My, oh my. Adding another lie to your repertoire, it seems," the voice remarked, lingering like an unseen observer in the theatrical grandeur.
Furina's gaze scanned the surroundings, seeking the source of the voice, which led her attention to a tea table under a sudden spotlight. Curiously, there was no visible figure at the table, and yet a fancy cup of steaming tea sat on its surface.
"Hmmm... I didn't expect the Hexenzerkiel would get involved," Furina mused as she realized the identity of the unseen presence. A lingering thought then struck her. "Was it you who gave hints to the outlander?"
"It's rare to witness someone attempting to alter the course of fate and succeeding," the voice replied enigmatically. "Yet, it appears you deliberately withheld information about your own fate."
Furina smile wryly, her eyes reflecting a complex mix of emotions. "Though the Goddess who chained my soul is no more, unfortunately, once my role has been fulfilled, my soul too will perish," she confessed. Her gaze then wandered towards the rows of empty spectator seats at the side. "This long lifespan of mine is, after all, both her blessings and her curse."
In the lingering silence, the distant echo of Neuvillette's voice reached her ears as he pardoned all of Fontaine's people. A subtle sigh of relief escaped Furina, and with a weary gaze, she uttered, "This time, let me be the only one to bear the sin of killing their own god."
"Anyways, is there anything you wished from me? I'm afraid I may not be able to fulfilled it though." Furina asked light-heartedly changing the mood.
"Nothing grand," the mage's voice echoed, infused with a solemnity that belied her words. "I simply wished to speak with you, if only once. As a guide, I have always held a fondness for souls such as yours," she continued, her words carrying a sense of longing for a different outcome. "May the future hold a brighter path for you, O' Regina of Fontaine."
The tea cup now emptied, and the mage's presence faded, leaving Furina truly alone in the grand hall. Embracing the solitude, she stood at the center of the stage and mirrored the same dance that Focalors performed before her execution just moments ago.
As the final notes of the dance faded into the stillness, Furina executed a deep, reverent bow, a poignant symbol marking the end of an era. This hall had witnessed her rise to power, and now it would witness her final act as the ruler of Fontaine.
Furina made her way toward her supposed throne. The surreal nature of reaching this point weighed heavily upon her. The piercing sound of the All-devouring Narwhal echoed, reaching even the hall of the Opera Epiclese. The water had risen, and as she seated herself comfortably on her throne, the events of the day replayed in her mind.
"It is as you said, Focalors," Furina whispered into the echoing emptiness, a fleeting smile gracing her lips. "It was indeed a splendid performance."
This time she truly is free. Tears of relief and contentment trickled down her cheeks, mingling with the waters that now inundated her nation. Alone upon her throne, Furina fulfilled her role as the hydro archon, weeping for her people as dictated by the centuries-old prophecy.