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Neuvillette noticed how Furina's hair was shorter and lacked the usual volume when she removed her hat and placed on top of a small cabinet, but he was not to point this out. There were a few other things that changed in her appearance. For one, she swapped her shorts for a long skirt, covering the length of her legs. Her taste in fashion now blended more with the crowd. She was also less jumpy. Neuvillette could tell she was at ease more than ever. And, if one were to scrutinize, creases formed across her face too.
“Ahem, I wonder,” Furina started. Right. It was already fifteen minutes since Neuvillette arrived, yet all they did was her offering him water, and him only sitting like a statue on that chair, unmoving and quiet the whole time. An exchange of words was long overdue.
As for Neuvillette, he was relieved she was the first to speak. He could not do anything at the sight of Furina, except feel sorry. She used to have a long queue seeking an audience with her at the Palais Mermonia, back when she was their Archon. Now, she was enduring alone at this mundane abode, dust settling on her furniture. He wondered if there was even any other visitor before him.
“if I die,”
It was an unfortunate time to sip water. Neuvillette nearly choked at her choice of words. “—Don’t say that.”
It somehow pleased Furina that she was able to catch the mighty Iudex off guard. He had a soft spot for her after all. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, you and I both know that I am not the Archon and no longer Focalors’ substitute. I will perish eventually.” She learned of this imminent fate lately, as signs became more evident. Free from the prophecy's reins, she now had the mortal capability to decline in health. Perhaps, she had these thoughts in mind but never had the chance to speak it out loud with anyone until now.
“Let me rephrase that, then. After this life, where do you think I’ll go? Will I be one with the waters . . . like an Oceanid? I hope not Celestia, though. I'm done with Archon duties. Ooh, how about being reborn . . . like as a Melusine? Hmm, that's actually not bad! I’d get to see you again. Hehe! I'd work at the Palais and bother you! Hahaha.”
This made Neuvillette reminisce the old times. Should she return close to him in the next life, it would be exactly as this lifetime. She may be a cause of headache, making him do extra work when she misjudges at court or in governing matters, but she was ever entertaining, never a lack of luster in her presence.
Only now did he realize how she kept him sane all these centuries, amidst the most grueling trials, or hearing the most atrocious crimes, handing the heaviest judgements, and sending people to the Fortress. She was simply there.
“I don't know what comes after.” It was a lovely thought for her to come back, really. To amuse her, he continued. “But if you were to return as a Melusine, I hope you refrain from levity, especially at your job—that is, if you do choose to join the Marechausee Phantom.”
“You’re too serious.” She rolled her eyes. “Everybody knows how fond you are of Melusines. At least, if I'm a Melusine, you won't lecture me all the time! Hehehe.”
“We'll see about that.”
After her laughter passed, there was a long pause before Furina spoke again—her tone now drained of playfulness. Terrifyingly, she started sounding like Focalors. This was the real Furina, he realized, sans the facade. “I just hope I’ll be reborn as a Fontainian. Melusine or not, I wish to return here.”
This pierced Neuvillette’s chest, twisted it in, if that was even possible.
Rain started pouring outside. In that moment, he was grateful she had no idea that was him.
Furina still loved Fontaine. She did unwaveringly, since the very beginning. Even as a newly born human, she was so willing to sacrifice herself to save its people, her people.
A fresh start in her homeland was warranted.
She deserved a carefree life without the burden of saving the nation, without deceit; a life like a normal Fontainian, free to speak with all honesty, free to be herself, free to choose her own path. Oh, Furina was robbed of all that. Even after the abdication of power to Neuvillette, she seemed to carry the weight of consequences just the same. It's all so unfair to her.
+++
That was the first and final time Neuvillette saw Furina, after the destruction of the Hydro Archon’s throne. Regret creeped into Neuvillette’s entirety when he denied the hints of Furina’s aging—her wrinkled skin and emerging veins seeping through the bare spaces between her jacket and gloves, even her tired eyes and lined smile. Her fragility was unbecoming. She used to be the fountain of youth itself.
For 500 years, Furina was unchanging, petrified in time. She was a constant character in his life. But, now, he still could not wrap his mind around this new truth. He did not expect this day would ever come. There he was, by Poisson, drenched in the downpour of his own doing, left behind once more.
Her eyes no longer met his. She reduced into nothing but a name on a dull stone tablet, among many others. Unfitting for her character. Unjust.
He refused to let this be. She was full of bravado and drama, alive—the coronated prima donna that she was. The least they could do to celebrate her memory was to remember who she truly was. So, he charged a tide against the stone, leaving an engraving for all of Fontaine to—in her words—applaud and rejoice at the curtain call of the grand opera's star.
Above the Lumidouce Bells Neuvillette offered, it now read:
Lady Furina de Fontaine
The Regina of all Waters, Kindreds, People and Laws
A Selfless Fontainian, Savior of the Nation of Hydro