Chapter Text
SNEZ-POI-4
lgnis Purgatorius - Monoceros Caeli
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The landscape was a beautiful sight. The various emerald hills occasionally lined by fields growing all-sorts of produce or lined by a careful dotting of various trees. Some were triangular and tall, whereas others branched out from thin trunks into a blur of green. Other times, the fields were filled with those trees, a messy painting of nothing but green.
Rarely did Furina witness hills mottled with holes, an army of brown splotches mixing in with the vibrant green and creating a putrid mess. It looked horrifically ugly seeing the land upturned and churned into a mess that would never be the same again. Even with the few sprouts of life, no doubt appearing in the craters. Furina could hardly tell where the pale smoke that danced in the sky came from.
Whether it came from a fire in a hearth or destroyed homes – something was being burned.
The sun was sickeningly bright today. It shone and danced through the rocking carriage as it bumped and stumbled down these aged tracks. It illuminated the world and filled it with warmth, turning the landscape into an artist's dream.
It burned heterochromatic blues as it sparkled through trees streaming past the train. Branches knocked upon its steel frame as it charged down the tracks.
The warmth and rocking would be comforting, like being held and gently lulled into a pleasant slumber — yet Furina could not be more awake.
The squealing of wheels as they chugged along the tracks was haunting her. The bangs and roars occasionally filled the cabin as the train screeched along. It all felt so familiar yet nightmarish.
The tremor in his hand seemed to reappear.
Furina sighed, turning her attention from the window to his hands. It was easy to flex the fingers and muscles in his left hand. The right wasn't so easy. The thought seemed irreparably delayed and slowed. The fingers curled slowly; the further they creased, the stronger the numb sensation became. Like watching a train in the fog slowly drawing closer, new lines of definition appeared until suddenly there was no more you. A sharp pain shot like lightning through every nerve in her arm.
Progress. Probably. Please.
The glove was itchy; her hand was itchy.
Furina sighed, burying her face in her gloved hands, her elbows digging uncomfortably into the wooden table.
The train ride wasn't bad, persay – Furina was just so tired at the moment. It wasn't the physical kind of exhaustion, even if the train ride had taken a few hours. It was a different kind of exhaustion. The kind that seeped into your bones and mind; it seemed to have hands that wrapped around your throat and peeled at your eyes – making the world seem so depressing and gray. It sat comfortably upon your heart. It got along so well with depression and grief. On this train, there was no one but misery for accompaniment.
Furina was mourning a lot.
"Ha!" Furina jumped, a small gasp of breath escaping his mouth, as a sudden trio of sharp whistles began. A series of town houses slowly passed by – Poisson. This was Poisson. Furina's new home.
It's a rather small station that didn't seem too dilapidated, perhaps a little old, but Poisson wasn't that popular a place. Its community was rather small but quite vocal. If Furina's memory served her well, then this was the origin of a rather influential man – Callas, at least that's what Furina thought his name was. He was rather vocal about the state of disarray the Fontainian law and judiciary were in.
Furina found him quite an admirable man.
Dedicated to fighting the law and deeply caring for his town, the news of his death struck Fontaine deeply.
Poisson was struck the hardest. A series of unfortunate events struck one after another.
The train jerked to a stop, wheels whistling as the brakes were applied. The bustle to exit the train was small – Furina noted. A handful of children scuttled towards the exit before her; they seemed rather timid yet excited to explore the new town. They had sat through the entire train ride silently, barely whispering a sound, entertained only by the books and crayons they had. Drawing fanatically. The guardian following them seemed less enthusiastic, an air of solemn duty about them. Dressed rather formally, too, in a palette of blues similar to Furina's, yet it seemed much sharper than Furina's. His own exuded an air of casual formality befitting his status.
Whoever this guardian was, she exuded a cold authority, unwelcoming and aloof to the world. She was here simply to lead the children to whoever was going to be taking in the poor evacuees.
Furina could not help but feel a simmer of displeasure as she slowly waited to gather the few bags she had with her. It wasn't like she was any different from the children—just another evacuee, come to stay in the home bought a long time ago from dreams and a promised future.
A now broken promise.
Getting off the train was alright; the conductor politely assisted Furina with his bags. Until it was just her, standing at the station, embracing this... unfortunate existence.
"Monsier Furina! Welcome!" A chipper voice belonging to someone who seemed awfully familiar. Bright blonde hair framed a flustered face in curls that went on and on. It's such a memorable color. It stood out so vibrantly against her navy blue dress but complemented the golden sash around her waist perfectly, and the various golden jewellery that hung around her neck and fingers or dangled from her ears.
"Greetings, Mademoiselle!" Furina cringed at how fake her voice sounded. So sickeningly charming and cheery. Thick with a rusty nonchalance, Furina had practiced time and time again.
Perhaps the slight bow was excessive.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Navia–" There was an abrupt stop, Navia seemed to consider her next words rather carefully as if this scripted introduced wasn't suitable for Furina's presence. "I heard you were coming to stay in Poisson for a while, so I thought I'd give you a tour. There's much to see and learn after all!"
Furina watched at the golden hair flutter in the wind, curls flying up as she was beckoned to wander behind Navia. Furina found himself stunned. The golden seemed to shine so brightly it became nothing but a white glare fooling Furina's sense and luring out memories. The smile seemed to blur until Furina didn't know who she was looking at. Was it still Navia? Or had Furina been lured back into the past?
"Monsieur?" Furina jumped, watching as Navia stared at her, baby blues staring deep into Furina. Piercing a hole into their integrity. They way they sparkled and glittered. Shone brightly.
Everything reminds him of her.
"Ah! Let's go my dear tour guide!" Furina laughed it off, skipping to stand just barely past Navia. A grin plastered hastily across his face as he stared back at Navia, praying silently she didn't ask any questions. Furina was ready for questions. Not yet.
Furina was content to have them buried with her.
Bury all of it with her.
"Ah... Yes, of course, Monsieur!" Navia hoped forward, heels clinking against the metal ground. Looking at it now, Navia was rather tall, around a head taller than Furina. Face carefully lined with golden curls, with blue dangling jewelery matching with her aqua eyes so perfectly. Truly, whomever it was that had placed that silver band around her finger was a rather lucky person.
"Please enough with the 'monsieur', I grow tired of these formalities! Simply call me Furina!" Furina chuckled, watching as they meandered into the train station building, bidding farewell to the train that had dragged Furina here. Poisson seemed like quite the quaint little village. Its people were different from those in the court. They seemed to deviate away from Furina – whereas the Court seemed to itch and crawl, suffocating him in its presence. Trying to slink beneath his skin. Poisson instead was forming a bubble around his presence. Isolating him.
With eyes scrutinising the duo, mixed between adoration, distain, and disinterest.
It felt like there were eyes crawling beneath Furina's skin.
"Of course! Please call me Navia then as well! Now where to begin... Oh! Would uou like to visit my bakery?" Furina jumped up at the mention of a bakery. Furina had always been a rather large fan of them – cherished memories spent in various places across Teyvat. Some bakeries were quaint peaceful places, and others were large famous places he'd only managed to visit thanks to her stardom.
Hearing that Navia owned a bakery was perhaps the best news Furina had heard all week. Or perhaps the best news in a long time.
It was hard to recall the last piece of good news since... that happened.
"It's along the main path through Poisson and would make the perfect break on our walk!" Navia chucked, excitement bursting at her seams. A large grin plastered across her face with teeth poking through. She stood out so boldly against Poisson. A beacon of happiness against it.
"Sounds like a perfect plan, my dear!" Furina smiled, eyes scrunching slightly. It was less fake this time.
"Perfect! Now, welcome to Poisson..." Furina's eyes bounced between looking at the buildings surrounding the path and Navia. The buildings here were homes. Homes. They weren't stacked upon each other's shoulders, trying to stand out from the crowd – plastered with colours that all seemed to blur together. The stores here were occasional and infrequent. They were plain and simple. They seemed to be a part of the community – the blurred mess of laughter that echoed as conversations were struck up here and there, even through the doors of the shop.
Poisson was nothing like the Court where businesses kept showing up and fighting constantly with one another – not for the sake of the community but rather their own pockets.
Furina preferred this over the Court. Even if she would forever be an outcast – she was ready to rot away and live out her final years alone. Well, perhaps he would at least attempt to get some work. Foçalors would've kicked him out of the house if Furina even thought about rotting at home. Ever the busy body.
"Oh, off they go to the House of the Hearth, I hope they enjoy their stay there. Its unfortunate really, they shouldn't have to bid farewell to home and show up here... poor things." Navia smiled melted into a frown as she stared at the children now breaking from their path and slipping down another. Trailing behind their new guardian to the... House of the Hearth?
"House of the Hearth?" Furina stared confused as her gaze flicked from the children who slowly dissapered from view towards Navia, who stood, staring with blue eyes filled with sadness. What was that place? Why did Navia seem so sad now despite mere seconds ago being filled with nothing but cheer and laughter as she soaked Furina in the history of Poisson?
"It's an orphanage we have here in the village. It's closely tied to the church. Oh, we're here!" Furina jumped at Navia's sudden change of mood. Eyes flicked from the path the children were wandering down to staring through slightly dirty and smudge glass at a range of desserts. All of them looked mouthwateringly delicious. The croissants seemed so beautiful – a well baked outside that glittered and sparkled, concealing its fluffy insides within. Furina could feel the drool slip from between his lips and threatening to drip down onto the floor.
Was she really that hungry? Or was she just this obsessed with desserts?
"Pft, haha! I take it you like croissants Furina?" Navia couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped – it was simply too funny seeing Furina with his face pressed so close to the glass and staring down at the croissants as though they were some kind of treasure! The sight of a famous actor staring down at croissants with such fervent hunger was... a strange compliment?
"Come on in Furina! I'll give you one on the house!" Furina raced into the bakery, barely acknowledging the feeling of the cold metal handle of the door or the sudden warmth inside the bakery.
Until it did register.
The inside of Navia's bakery was small. It was only a little establishment, but it felt so welcoming, like a home, a home for everyone. The decor was simple, like that of an average home. There were various photos hung up on the wall – all of which featured a blonde and purple smear – and some general decor pieces. The wallpaper was surprisingly not too tacky. Even the furniture seemed rather average, simple wood and the occasional sofa lined up against the wall.
"Anyways! Here you go, partner!" Suddenly there it was; the croissant Furina was drooling over mere moments ago. Sat delicately upon a plate, just waiting for her to eat it.
"Wait! Are you sure you don't want me to pay for it? I'm more than happy, too!" Furina couldn't help the sweat that dripped down her face as she stared up at Navia's beaming face, the small wrinkled that surrounded her eyes shut from how big her smile was. Navia seemed so happy to just let Furina have it. No expectations, no nothing.
"Please, take it, partner! Anyways, what were we talking about?" Furina couldn't resist pulling the croissants up to her mouth and taking a bite from it. It was so soft but so crispy, too — just so impossibly delicious it was hard for him to put it into words. It even brought a few tears to her eyes. "Oh! The House of the Hearth!"
Furina let out a muffled hum before hastily chasing after Navia. Joining her at a small table, it granted an almost perfect view of the street outside. The silence of Poisson suddenly striking Furina, he hadn't realised just how calm this place was. The noisiest place this far was the train station, but that was a given – trains aren't known for being quiet after all.
"As I mentioned before, it's closely tied to the church. That's mainly because Father Arlecchino, the priest and head of the church here, runs the orphanage, too. Though; they seem to keep the church and orphanage rather separate." Furina was intrigued. She hasn't noticed a church yet – nor has she seen a sharp spire yet either. This begs the question, where exactly is the church since typically it would be in the centre of a small town such as this.
"Really?"
"Yep! Father Arlecchino is... a rather interesting person. Their position as a priest seems secondary to them... Father Arlecchino seems to focus more on well being a father. I don't really know what to say about her..." Furina was incredibly interested now. Well, that was perhaps a slight exaggeration.
He was intrigued to meet this mysterious Father who was clearly the person in charge of taking in those children on the train with her. Though Furina wasn't sure if she'd really get round to the Church. He was actually just content to simply acknowledge where it was and move on.
Furina wasn't much of a religious person.
Even though she's certainly spent a lot of time cursing Egeria.
"Father Arlecchino... they sound like quite an interesting person." Furina hummed. He couldn't drag his eyes away from the path the children went down.
"Indeed! Oh, now that I'm thinking of it – where did you move to Furina?" Furina slowly sat up – back tense and as straight as a board as those words registered. A sudden reminder of why Furina was here. It was a cold realisation that froze Furina in place. Cool sweat dripped down his face. A trembling running through her hands, stretching across her core and even rocking those irises of his.
Furina was here for a reason oh so sickeningly similar to those children.
Furina had run away to here.
"Ah, I um live to the outskirts of Poisson–" Furina fumbled over her own words. They all just seemed to rush to get out of her mouth first. That damned address – Furina knew it so well. It had seared its way into the back of her mind. He knew it so well it hurt to just think! "Lakelight lilly Boulevard."
Furina heaved a breath.
The weight of Navia's shocked gaze, that feeling that made it so hard to look her in the eyes, had come back.
The grain of the wooden tables seemed rather interesting. They were of good quality. Beautiful craftsmanship if Furina had to say so.
"Oh! You're along the road to the church! That's easy to navigate then! You just follow the path the children went down! Oh, and it's not too far from my bakery!" Navia beamed, grinning at Furina seemingly ignorant to Furina's prior panic. Or perhaps she wasn't.
"Really?" Furina sighed, breathless.
"Yep! I can walk you there if you'd like! Poisson is quite closely knit! The church is the only thing that's awkwardly far away! No one knows why, really. It just always has been so far away." Navia seemed to doze off slightly, slipping away into a daydream as she stared down the same road as Furina.
Eyes tracing the two buildings that intercepted this cross road – one road down to the church and Lakelight Lilly Boulevard – the other to the other cluster of houses just down the pass.
Navia had a strange feeling about this predicament. The ring placed upon her finger felt rather heavy all of a sudden.
"If you wouldn't mind, then I'll accept your offer... Madame!" Furina grinned, slipping back into this carefully made mould.
"Alrighty! Once you grab your bags, we'll be on our way!" Furina launched out of her seat with a resounding laugh from Navia. He had entirely forgotten about his luggage sitting discarded before the counter and outside the glass. Such a foolish display – that accursed croissant playing on her love.
'Thump'
Furina was struggling to breathe – her chest heaved up and down violently, attempting to pull some air into him. He fell so lightheaded. The door was cold against his back as he slid down it. Furina was alone now – she was alone now. All alone.
Navia was gone.
This home felt so cold and desolate. Hardly decorated walls that were waiting for an arrival far off in the future disturbed by Furina's sudden presence now. It was all plain and simple – a house rather than a home.
Furina could feel her heart beating in her chest. The way it rocked and beat so uncontrolled. It felt like it was going to rip out of her chest. Each squeeze and clench of the muscles sent pain throughout his system. Tears dripping down his face and painting it in a salty mess. Blue heterochromatic eyes pressed against gloves. As the world was blurred and turning into a muffled mess beneath the roar of Furina's heart beat.
"I don't know–" Furina heaved those words, choking her as they were slowly pulled from her chest. They felt sloppy and dirty as they fell past her lips. "What I'm going to do anymore–"
Furina wailed, strained voice filling the empty room with its sorrow. Painting it in more misery to join its already dreary nature.
"FOÇALORS PLEASE!" Furina didn't know why she was shouting now – who was going to hear her? The creaking boards that lined the floors? The empty and cold bed far too lonely for just one person now? The stack of letters resting beside her?
Foçalors couldn't hear her. Nor could she see her.
Furina could help the tears that streamed from his heterochromatic eyes. No one was here to wipe them. They would stream down her face, wet the throat that was choked up and heavy with sorrow, and stain the collar of her shirt.
"Please Foçalors, I beg you, forgive me." It shouldn't have been her. It should have been me.
Furina felt like a monster.
A horrible, selfish, and reviled monster.
"I don't know what to do anymore..." Furina felt so helpless. A bone deep exhaustion piling atop him. What was an actor like him doing so far away from his stage? Furina knew she wasn't welcome here. The way they scorned her and judged her existence proved they didn't want Furina here.
But where else was he to go?
To the spotlight burried in a thousand memories? To the place brought to its knees as it bowed before the world's utmost cruelty?
Furina didn't have a home anymore. It lie shattered in ruins – burned and scorched away. Scarred with the scent of blood and burning as speckles of red seaped out of the remains... as if it were alive.
Would things ever be the same again...?
Of course not.
Furina stared, peaking past her fingers into the hall. He couldn't really see anything – it was just a blur of information muffled beneath the sound of her thoughts.
Furina was trying so damn hard right now. Trying so desperately to see reason. Her own humanity had never felt like such a prison before. Her voice felt hoarse now. It ached and throbbed within his throat.
Furina felt so tired that sleeping against the door didn't seem so unappealing.
Not until she remembered those letters stacked besides her in a mess reminiscent of a pile.
Furina would not sleep beside them. Furina would never lay beside them.
Furina was sick of even just imagining who sent them. Furina, quite frankly, wasn't interested. Exhaustion gave way to irritation.
Furina didn't want to wish harm upon him – that would be wrong after all – but Egeria did she hope he'd get the message eventually. Screw good intentions. Sometimes, they just get in the way, and it's best to just go away. Maybe this distance will finally let Furina mourn in peace. He was happy to die here. Even as he stumbled towards the stairs, hand clinging to the railing as it was the only thing preventing her trembling frame from stumbling down these stairs and being painted in a mottled mess of bruises.
Furina hoped to Egeria that this distance was finally enough.
Furina wanted to be alone – not entirely isolated but far from the constant camera flashes and the grinning self-entitled fools. Furina wanted a life. She wasn't some star atop a tree – Furina was alive. A person.
He knew that. But maybe he'll finally learn their business together was done and that there was no friendship between them.
'Aggh' pain shot across Furina's temple – being so frustrated was never nice – Furina just wanted to lay down. She didn't know how she went from breaking down into pieces once again to holding up one of her shards as though it was a weapon against some figment of her imagination.
Sleep would be good. Even if that bed would be awfully lonely.
⟣────────────────⟢
To Furina de Fontaine,
My Beloved Husband.
It's so strange being able to call you that. To call you mine. Even if it's only just between us.
You might be wondering when I brought this house, well I brought it just before our wedding! (I had Neuvillette help me since I can't see after all. He's even helping me write this letter! Begrudgingly.)
I planned to surprise you with it since you mentioned plans of a peaceful retirement. However, you quickly found out – i hate how perceptive you can be sometimes. I love you more, though. So, instead, I came up with this!
Inside this letter is a key to a safe I have kept somewhere inside this house. Inside the safe is a bunch of things I've collected throughout the years of our relationship and marriage. You've always been so sentimental and with a good memory – so I thought it was a fitting gift. You love remembering things, my heart, so I thought you'd like this. After all, it's something special for both of us.
You are my eyes and hands, my dear – i can not see without you. Reminisce and indulge me in the past through your lens.
Anyways, good luck finding it, my heart. After all, what is a blind woman going to do to hide it herself?
Your beloved wife,
Foçalors de Fontaine.
⟣────────────────⟢
Navia couldn't help the laugh that bubbled into her throat as she watched Furina sulk at one of her tables. It was strange, but she was slowly getting used to seeing such a critically acclaimed actor sulking at one of her tables munching on various baked goods.
Navia was almost entirely certain that despite having arrived mere days ago, Furina had tried everything available in the store.
Though it wasn't like Navia was complaining or anything – she could understand why Furina was drowning away in a bunch of sugary treats after having his help rejected by everyone in the village. Navia couldn't help but feel awfully pitiful for her.
"Rejected again, monsieur?" Navia laughed, keeping the conversation largely polite between them, "I don't know why you're so insistent on finding work or help. If i were as rich as you, I'd retire elsewhere and live out my days doing nothing!"
Furina huffed, brows furrowing in annoyance at Navia's words. This was always a subject he hated approaching. It was always so awkward and unnecessarily convoluted.
Furina knew she was better off than so many people in this world. Knew there were so many people out there that had nothing – take those children, for example. They had nothing but a few scraps of clothes and a toy to their name while Furina had everything.
Yet Furina couldn't just sit idle — being stuck in that house alone for hours on end seemed like torture. The ever creeping thoughts lingered around her like a sickness. A sickness without a cure.
Furina couldn't do this. He was desperate from someone to take pity on him – ignore whom he was and and who he'll ever be for once and let him lend a hand. Lend the only one he has. Furina has already tried to pay back the debt of good luck she had accumulated – live a life balancing the line of being famous and average. Furina would gladly pay it back a thousand times more.
"I like being busy." Furina huffed into her coffee as she slowly brought it to her mouth. It was perhaps slightly warmer than anticipated but nevertheless good. All of what Navia served here was good. Perhaps it was more of a café than a bakery.
"Fair enough! Anyways, if you'd like, you can occasionally help out here if you'd like. It'll be only small things, however, and I doubt they'd keep you occupied for as long as you'd like. If you want, you can always see if you can help out at the orphanage! Father Arlecchino is always welcoming to hands to offer help!" Navia beamed as she slowly whipped down the counters. Brushing crumbs into her hand off the marble and into her hand before carefully depositing them into the bin.
Perhaps she was being a tad too nice when discussing Father Arlecchino.
They didn't know each other well, and Navia was perhaps exaggerating how nice they were. Father Arlecchino was quite the stickler for rules and such. Always taking glances to their pocket watch ensuring things happpen accordingly.
"Really? I'd gladly help out with your bakery. Though I'm not too sure about asking Father Arlecchino–"
"We can go together tomorrow if you'd like! I need to ask Father Arlecchino about certain things myself, so why not tag along?" Furina sighed. It seemed like he was going to be paying a visit to the church after all.
It's not as if Furina had anything against religion and all that stuff – it just wasn't something that was ever a part of her life and was never really going to be an aspect of her life. It would simply be rather awkward. Furina could masquerade and pretend to be a bubbly and charming individual – even without pretending Furina had his own charms – but Furina didn't have that warm welcoming personality nor the ability to commune with strangers so easily.
Furina had quite the quippy temperament sometimes.
A silver tounge Foçalors once said.
"Are you certain it won't be a bother for me to pay a visit as well?"
"Of course!" Navia grinned, slipping out from behind the counter to stand before Furina's table. Getting a closer look, Navia could see deep eye bags weighing beneath Furina's eyes, pulling them down. As well as faint wrinkles – it was only just sinking in on how much older Furina was in comparison.
Yet, Navia couldn't help but feel some semblance of empathy and connection. It wasn't her place to pry, but Navia could guess whatever brought Furina here wasn't pleasant. It looked like he had a rather challenging life thus far.
It gave Navia hope for her own life and challenging set of problems. Even if it was a tad selfish.
"Father Arlecchino doesn't mind me, and I'm not particularly religious either, and besides, most of her children aren't either! So don't worry about that Furina, I'm sure you'll find something to do!"
Furina looked up, staring into Navia's crystal blue eyes that shone so perfectly. The way warmth and happiness radiated from her – how she constantly offered to help out – Navia was certainly a truly altruistic person.
Furina was grateful he could at least consider one person a friend here in Poisson.
He'll just have to swallow his apprehension and take the plunge. Better getting her hands dirty than allowing herself to bloody them.
Even if worry still plagued her lungs and weighed down upon each beat of her heart.
"Very well, I entrust myself into your care my dear guide."