Chapter Text
Furina opened her eyes slowly, her body swaying slightly as the feeling of suddenly feeling slams into her. A sharp throb pierced through her brain at the influx of sensations. Hissing and stumbling as her hand found her forehead, slightly covering her eyes to try and reduce everything.
“Ugh, my head…” she muttered. “What’s going on?
“Furina…” a hauntingly familiar voice seemed to reverberate around her, soft and caring, but undoubtedly powerful. “Furina…” it called out once more.
“Huh?” Furina uttered, starting to look around as her world started to slowly stabilize. What caught her attention the most was that while everything around her was certainly of the highest quality, the bedroom she found herself in was completely bare of anything. Anything save a bed with plain white sheets to her side and an ornate full body mirror in front of her.
“Who’s that?” Furina questioned the room around her.
‘Furina? Is that…my name?’ she thought to herself. It felt…right, but also not. Shaking the thought off for the time being, she called out to the empty room.
“Who’s calling me? Where are you?”
“Be not nervous,” the voice called out once more. This time instead of seeming to reverb in the world around her, it came from the ornate mirror in front of her. “Be not afraid,” the voice continued as Furina nervously looked towards the mirror despite the voice's statements.
As she approached though, something magical seemed to happen. What caught her attention first was the simple white dress she wore seemed to morph into something more ethereal in appearance. The sides steadily grew longer, golden embroidery lining the edges and cutting a sharp pattern through the lake of starlight the white shifted into, catching the glint of a golden foot chain that she wore only on her right foot, a sapphire teardrop in the middle. The bodice tightened, parting partially in the middle to reveal just enough flesh to be appealing, even as pearlescant teardrops cried their way down her sternum through the moonlit sky lined once again with gold. The sleeves grew slightly poofier, as if mimicking a cloud floating on her shoulders. From a gold band on her upper arms, white sleeves draped their way down her arms, shifting into the same starlit lake that shimmered around her calves.
But most startling was the fact her face and body didn’t change, but seemed to suddenly move separately from her.
“W-w-wait a minute. You're…Mirror-Me? How can this be?” she stuttered out in shock.
“Hmmmm, ‘Mirror-You,’ huh?” Mirror-Her smiled and laughed softly as she tapped her chin lightly in thought. “You know what? That's not bad. Let's go with that.”
“‘Mirror-Me’...Wh-what do you wish to say?” Furina slowly drew closer to the mirror. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt like she knew her. She was…her…but not?
‘Why does my body…yearn for her?” she thought to herself. ‘As if…she’s a missing part of me?”
“The ‘Prophecy’...have you heard of it?” Mirror-Her’s countenance shifted like the tide, suddenly serious and commanding. But for some reason the shift itself didn’t surprise her. Despite the thick cloud that hung in her mind, she felt like she herself was the same. Ever shifting. Ever adapting.
“What prophecy…?” she asked reflexively, her brain having not fully processed what Mirror-Her had asked. Suddenly, a portion of the fog cleared from her mind.
“Oh, wait. I know - I think. I don't know why, but it’s…in my head somehow…” Furina’s forehead found itself in her palm once again at another spike of pain, but thankfully not as bad as when she first…awoke? But almost unbidden, her lips spoke those words that were in her head.
Forever etching them into her soul.
“The people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the Hydro Archon will remain, weeping on her throne. Only then will the sins of the people of Fontaine be washed away.”
“Oh, very good. You know it well.” Mirror-Her gave a sad smile, clasping her hands together at her waist. Furina knew then, with sharp clarity, that Mirror-Her knew exactly what had just happened.
“What's…going on? I can't seem to remember…anything clearly.” She hissed through clenched teeth, trying to force the fog in her mind to clear. “The only thing I know for sure is this prophecy… Will it really come to pass?”
“Yes, it will, and that's why I have come to you,” the divinity in the mirror leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly. “Disaster will come to Fontaine sooner or later. Things will develop just as the prophecy declared - there is no escaping it.”
“But…doesn't that mean that everyone will die? I am Fontainian just like them - will I dissolve too?” The thought honestly terrified her. Her hand moved from her forehead to grip tightly at her bicep as she tried to control her emotions from raging up.
“Hehehe…don't worry.” Mirror-Her giggled softly. Almost conspiratorially. “Magical meetings exist in this world precisely to give people a chance to turn things around. It is the reason you met me today. I will tell you how to save everyone, but…” she trailed off, obviously not wanting to finish her statement. “You may have to suffer somewhat…”
A surge of hope pierced through the fear that had started to feel suffocating.
“O-oh, so there's still hope after all? Goodness, you frightened me - you spoke so much, and with so much certainty…” Furina trailed off herself, trying to put her swirling emotions into coherent thought.
“As for the suffering…Well, I will admit that the first thing that came to mind was, ‘Why do I have to be the one to suffer?’...” A note of bitterness crept into her voice. “But if the prophecy comes true, I'll also die too, right?” she continued her thoughts.
“So if I’ve already met you as my magical meeting in this world…” her hand fell from her arm, hanging limply as acceptance settled deep into her bones. As she gathered the rest of her thoughts, she finished following through the thought Mirror-Her had obviously already. Her hands raised to equal heights at her sides, as if holding two separate trays.
“If there were scales, with all the people of Fontaine on one side, and my pain on the other…is it not obvious where the scales should tilt?” she let herself tilt exaggeratedly to the right, her body the scales that would save Fontaine.
“Hehe…” Mirror-Her laughed at the almost childish action, her hand raising to cover her lips, hiding the smile that bloomed. “You truly are the perfect human - my ‘Ideal.’ I suppose this would also be the ‘justice’ that belongs to you.”
“Huh?” Furina wrinkled her brow as she straightened up, trying to figure out what was being alluded to.
“Don't worry, it's nothing.” Taking a deep breath, Mirror-Her stood straight. Her very presence changed, even through the veil of glass and silver that divided their worlds, Furina knew she stood before a Goddess.
“Listen well. Fontaine has just lost its Hydro Archon.” Furina’s eyes widened upon hearing that. More of the fog began to clear, the knowledge opening itself to her, steadily giving her more information her seemingly amnesiac mind desperately craved. “I need you to ‘play’ a role - that of the new Archon.”
“Play as…a god?” Furina thought she had to be joking. This had to all just be some kind of wild dream! There was nothing special about her…except maybe her eyes, but she severely doubted that was enough to play as a god!
“That's right. You must begin a never ending masquerade. You must never let anyone suspect your identity… If you can keep it up, then I shall have my way of defying this prophecy… but should your identity be revealed, then all hope will be lost,” the divinity spoke clearly, sharply. But somehow not unkindly.
“But…how will I do this? A human assuming the role of a god without being exposed…”
“Don't worry. What you must do is not turn yourself into a real god. You simply need to play the role of a god as humans imagine them to be.” Slowly, Mirror-Her seemed to almost step around her as her actual image appeared within the mirror.
“But I will not leave you without some assistance.” Mirror-Her stepped behind her, their face leaning forward next to hers within the mirror. Raising her left hand to the side, in a flash of divine light and soothing bubbles a wonderful object appeared. It appeared almost sword-like, a clearly defined hilt made of pearl and inlaid with gold and sapphire and a crown shaped topped the object. Further lending credence to the idea of it being a sword was the ever shifting basket of water that served as a guard. However, from the hilt extended a shaft that shifted from the darkness of the deep sea into a scepter like shape, flaring out into an ornate spike of seafoam. Not an edge to be found along the so-called “blade”.
“To lend you authority, what else for the Regina of All Waters than the Splendor of Tranquil Water?” she asked, bringing the sword-scepter in before securing it to her side with a belt that appeared as if woven from rivers. Furina glanced down in shock as she felt the weight actually settle against her leg. There it was, as if it had always been despite the fact it absolutely was not.
“And to provide guidance,” Mirror-Her continued as she straightened up from her little trick, a sparkle of mischievousness in her eyes, “a favorite quote of mine. One I would do my best to lead by, but I feel like you can do even better as my humanity.”
“The king must be greedier than any other. He must laugh louder and rage harder. He must exemplify the extreme of all things, good and evil. That is why his retainers envy and adore him. And why the flames of aspiration, to be as the king is, can burn within his people.”
Furina felt the quote resonate deep within her. A light from the fog, a phantom memory of one of the proudest people Mirror-Her she had ever known, defending his rule to another whose rule was almost an antithesis. Mirror-Her slowly returned back to her original position, her appearance replacing Furina’s reflection…or rather, taking her proper place as her reflection once again.
“Remember, your true challenge will not be pursuing ‘divinity,’ but contending against ‘humanity.’” the divinity warned her, clasping her hands in front of her once again.
“Um, I’m still not sure I understand, but…I’ll try. I’ll try to do this.” Furina’s left hand settled on the crown shaped pommel of her Splendor. Letting her thumb lightly caress the pearl hilt, she gathered her thoughts. “So how long am I going to have to play this role?”
Mirror-Her gave her saddest smile yet, and when she spoke, it was laced deeply with her divine power. Carving her next words into her soul, cursing them to forever live alongside the prophecy that would doom her entire nation.
“To accomplish this mission, you will have to stay on the stage for many, many years. You will endure and not grow old until your task ends. But I promise you…all will eventually end in a magnificent and dramatic trial, and everyone will be saved.”
Furina felt a small thrill of excitement, from the fog of her memories came a love for justice. For even a god to declare a trial as magnificent…
“A trial, huh…How exciting. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
With a small smile at the childish joy displayed by the woman she had just cursed, in what was probably the worst fate possible, she slowly faded back into Furina’s reflection. Neither knew how long it would be before they saw each other again.
If they ever did.
—
Furina stared at her real reflection for a long while, trying to wrap her mind around the task she had been given, hand still caressing the pommel of her new sword idly. She could already tell that it was going to become a habit of hers. To pretend to be a goddess, to rule a country… It was all so much to take in.
Taking a deep breath, she finally turned away from the ornate mirror and approached the simply clad bed that sat to the side of what she was assuming to be her room. Laying right in the middle was a folded sheet of paper, scrawled across the front was her name in a beautifully flowing script.
Reaching out and picking it up with shaking hands, she lightly ran her thumb over her name. Taking another breath she forced her hands to steady.
‘A god would not allow their fear and discomfort to show so easily,’ she thought to herself. ‘I must assume someone is always watching. Always listening.’
Unbidden, her eyes glanced out the window, spotting a floating castle in the far distance over Sumera. Bringing her eyes back to the letter in her hands, she unfolded it to see what else was left for her.
Furina,
I must apologize one more time for the curse I am asking you to bear. But if I can not trust even a part of myself with this task, then I don’t know who else I can.
I unfortunately can not tell you what I have planned. What I can tell you is that in one week's time, the Hydro Sovereign will arrive in Elynas, southwest of the Court of Fontaine, at my request. He recently awoke with the passing of Egeria during the transfer of the Hydro Authority. However you choose to do so, he must be integrated into Fontaine society. He must be bought to care for our people. He is one of the main keys to my plan.
Tomorrow, you will be approached by the Maison Cardinalice to be taken before our people. You will need to give an ascension speech, your first true act as Archon. Take this day to prepare and decide how you will present yourself as a god.
Finally, there is a closet that I have filled with an assortment of simple clothes. While I think your taste would probably lean to being similar to mine, I have no way to know for sure. I hope it works well as a starting point at least. In the back of the closet is a box with what writings from Egeria I was able to find and save from the destruction of the War Against Khaenri’ah. They should be able to provide at least some guidance.
I wish you the best of luck Furina.
Foçalors
Tomorrow?! She didn’t know if she’d be able to pull off a convincing lie on that short notice. Pursing her lips slightly in displeasure, she reread the note one more time. Doing her best to commit the time and coordinates of the location for meeting with the Hydro Sovereign to memory, she folded the letter in half once again.
With a steady gate she walked towards the candle burning by the mirror. Holding the corner over the open flame, the high quality paper quickly caught a light. With careful movements and rapt attention, she made sure to burn every scrap of the letter to ash. She couldn’t risk the chance of anyone finding any sort of evidence that she was not who she was about to be.
Satisfied with the result, she took a better look around the room. Seeing a smaller door to the side, she approached it. Throwing it open, she was shocked at the size of the closet that she had. Suddenly feeling a bit giddy with excitement, she strutted straight towards the comparatively large selection of clothes currently available, even if it barely took up one percent of the actual closet.
Rifling through them, she was amazed at just the sheer quality of them. All of them, despite being relatively simple in style and decoration, were all made with the highest quality fabrics. Smooth textures, cooling and comfortable, some feeling almost weightless, others very heavy.
If this was what was ‘simply’ available as a goddess, maybe this wouldn’t be all bad.
Having shifted through all the clothes, she caught sight of a simple but sturdy wooden chest in the back, a faint blue sigil floating over the lock.
‘This must be Egeria’s writings.’ Furina thought to herself. Instinctually sweeping the hem of her dress to maintain her propriety as she knelt in front of the chest, taking a closer look at the floating bit of magic.
‘This is so fascinating! I wonder if I could learn to do something like this? Though…how do I open it?” Once again pursing her lips slightly in thought, her hand once again settled on the pommel of her sword.
After a moment, a thought shot through her mind, stilling her hand. Turning her gaze towards the gifted sword, she stared at it for a moment.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to at least try, she carefully removed it from the belt it was secured to. To her surprise it was held there almost as if by magnets and came off easily. Slowly bringing it up to her face, her admiration at the gift only grew. It felt as if the entire sword were made of water despite being more solid than any metal. While the shape of it brought to mind a sword, the only sharp spot to be found was the very tip.
‘So maybe it would be closer to a short pike?’ shaking the wondering thought from her head, she lightly tapped the sword against the floating sigil.
With a flash and a sound similar to a popping bubble, the lid of the chest opened slightly.
‘Well, I guess it’s time to study,’ Furina thought with a small grimace. Grabbing a book at random, she settled down against the chest and began to read.
—
She stood before a different mirror this time. This one was in the Opera Epiclese instead of her room in the Palais Mermonia, where she had been tasked by her Mirror-Self.
‘Foçalors,’ she gently reminded herself in her thoughts.
Shaking the stray thoughts from her mind, she once more went back to looking over herself, making sure everything was perfect for her first appearance before the people. Drawing inspiration from Foçalors’ own outfit, she wore a gown of cloudy silk and watery satin. The bodice had a sheen similar to pearls that deepened into river blue as it fell, the colors shimmering subtly as she moved, as though light were passing through shallow water. The hem is heavy, embroidered with silver thread in a looping motif of scales and interlocking waves sweeping against her ankles as she swayed like the rolling of the tides.
Reinforcing her bodice, enameled steel bands provided structure while also drawing to mind the image of armor. Instead of having gigot sleeves, they fit closer to a more traditional sleeve while keeping loose enough to not restrict her movement. As with her gown, the sleeves shifted from pearl to river blue as they widened into narrow panels, allowing some billowy movement around her hands as she practiced some sweeping gestures.
Walking to the table that sat near the mirror, she picked up the Authority gifted to her for her role. Lightly running her hand down the shaft of the Splendor of Tranquil Waters, she admired it deeply once more. It was the centerpiece she based her outfit on, and one of the inspirations for how she would portray herself as a Goddess. It called to mind the image of a scepter, just as used by royalty of old, but despite that it was a sword. The sword of the Goddess of Justice. Its presence is quiet, final and undeniable.
Drawing the ribbons of water around her waist, she hung her sword to her left hip. Looking back down to the table, there was one article left, one she felt fitting for what she was picturing.
Grabbing it and throwing it around her shoulders with a flourish, the dark blue satin mantle shimmered like the depths of the ocean as it settled around her shoulders. Clasping the silver chains that bore a weave similar to the waters of her belt to the opalescent broach shaped like a drop of water, her hands lightly brushed the snow white fur. Lightly carding her fingers through the fur, her attention was once again drawn to the streaks of blue that appeared, matching her hair.
Turning back to her mirror, she gave herself one final look over. Long, white and blue strands are braided in thin ceremonial plaits near the temples, each braid threaded with fine silver rings. The rest cascades down her back, unbound, a deliberate choice. Justice is crowned, not chained. From a side table, she grabbed the last piece of her outfit, placing it atop her head.
Upon her brow rests no towering crown. Instead, she wears a circlet of white gold, thin and severe, set with a single sapphire cut flat like still water. A silent witness to the greatest show that will ever be performed,
Drawing her shoulders back, standing tall, she let herself become the role she saw before her. A Queen. A Goddess. Justice.
It was time. There was no more time to be nervous. No more time for uncertainty. Now it was time to greet her people properly for the first time. Turning from the mirror, she walked towards the stage with her head held high, left hand resting calmly on the pommel of her sword, steps smooth and confident. As she approached, she could hear the herald from the Maison Cardinalise announcing her.
“Oyez, oyez, oyez!
Listen everyone, and show respect!
Let all within these halls give ear and due reverence!
Behold Sa Très Haute et Très Puissante Majesté,
by right of Celestia and by the admission of the Kingdom,
Reine de la Nation des Hydro,
Dame des Rivières et des Rivages,
Garde de l’Équilibre,
Source et Fontaine de Loi,
Bouclier des Justes et Châtiment des Coupables.
She who bears the living scales and the tempered blade,
Anointed in grief, enthroned in duty.
All rise now for Votre Majesté,
la Reine et Déesse de Justice,
Furina de Fontaine!”
Having timed her entry perfectly she crossed on to the stage right as her name finished being announced. Without breaking or altering her stride, Furina approached the pedestal that had been placed in the center of the stage, the gathered crowd clapping uproariously.
As she stepped up into the center of the pedestal, her steel capped heels clicked resoundingly on the smooth stone as she stood proudly. Basking in their acknowledgement. After a few moments, she slowly raised her right hand, letting the simple motion and the presence she’s doing her best to project speak for her, quieting the crowd.
Once it was quiet, Furina finally spoke.
“People of the rivers and the coasts. Lords of harbor and meadow. Sisters and brothers bound by tide and oath. Today the sea is quiet. Not in peace, but in mourning.” She let her voice ring powerfully throughout the opera house. Sorrow colored her voice. Sorrow at both the suffering she and her divinity were undoubtedly about to suffer. But her words now referred to her sorrow at the previous Hydro Archon. A Just Goddess that she would only ever know through hazy memories that weren’t truly hers and some journals left behind.
“The Goddess who stood before you in steel and verdict has fallen upon the field of battle. She did not flee the storm. She did not bargain with the blade. She died as justice must sometimes die, upright, witnessed, and unashamed. Let her name be carried like a bell across the estuaries, rung not for despair but for memory.”
She lowered her head and clasped her hands in prayer, a moment of silence for her predecessor. Lady Egeria made the ultimate sacrifice, and she did it to protect their neighbor’s lands from being overrun, to protect her people. Seeing her actions, the crowd followed, all of them present reflecting on their memories of their previous goddess. After a minute, she raised her head and let her powerful voice ring out once more.
“I do not stand here to replace her. No crown refills such a vessel. I stand because justice, like water, refuses the grave. Strike it down and it rises elsewhere. Break it with swords and it returns as rain.”
Furina rattled her sword slightly, tapping into the power within it that she had spent time practicing yesterday. A small fog rolled out from the bottoms of her feet, murmuring and cheering beginning to spread throughout the crowd.
“By the accord of Celestia and the acclamation of the realm, I take the Throne of Hydro. Not as a conqueror, not as a savior, but as a steward. This throne is not a seat of comfort. It is a stone in the current. It is worn smooth only by duty.”
“Hear this first law of my reign. Justice shall not be a blade drawn only for kings, nor a net cast only for the poor. The high shall feel its weight as surely as the low feel its cold. No tower shall stand so tall that the tide cannot reach its door.”
The scattered muttering and cheering both rose slightly louder in response to her words. Almost surprised joy from the commoners, anger from the nobility, but shock alike from both.
“Hear the second. Mercy shall not be mistaken for weakness, nor cruelty for strength. A river that never floods becomes a trickle. A river that floods without measure becomes ruin. I will keep the banks.”
She had allowed the power to dim slightly from her voice, once again shifting to a tone of reverent sorrow like she had used at the beginning of her speech as she prepared for her final law she planned to give to a country that, like all others, was fresh off the ravages of war.
“Hear the third. No blood spilled in defense of this realm shall be forgotten. No widow shall be invisible. No orphan shall be told that sacrifice was the price of silence. The fallen will be named. The living will be protected. People of Fontaine, your nation is not merely waves and walls. It is contracts sealed with salt. It is courts that echo with truth spoken plainly. It is hands washed before judgment and afterward as well. If Justice is to rule, it must be seen, and if it is seen, it must be trusted.”
“I swear this before the altar and harbor. I will not hide behind divinity when judgment is hard. I will not invoke heaven to excuse failure. When I err, let the bells ring. When I falter, let the record stand. The crown I take today is forged from grief and resolve. Its weight is real and I welcome it.” Once again the power came back, stepping forward down from the pedestal, she made a grand gesture to the gathered crowd.
“My dear people. Whether you acknowledge me or not, whether you trust me or nay, I say to you — keep faith in your ardor for justice! We have heard it said that this nation's sins can no longer be washed away. Well, I say that justice is most fragrant when it blooms amid sin! The scales of justice should not weigh heavy in the hands of its god. On one side, it must carry fairness and justice, and on the other, praise and applause. May law be the prayer on our lips. May judgment be our worship. Let us light the fires, and drink to the future of Fontaine!”
“Rise with me. Keep faith with the law. Keep faith with one another. Let the waters carry us forward, clear enough to see the stones below, strong enough to turn the mill of history. Justice lives. The Nation of Fontaine endures.”
Drawing her Splendor, and with a grand flourish of the blade, she planted the tip of the blade into the stage with both hands on the pommel. Two taps on the stage, a singular pulse of visible Hydro energy rippling out, she spoke what would later become known as The First Decree, the crowd completely silent as Authority spoke.
“There is no trouble in this world that justice cannot solve. All that is needed is for you, my people, to believe in it, heart and soul. So long as I, the Archon Foçalors, stand within the Opera Epiclese... so long as I stand before the Oratrice... I shall even judge the gods of this world!”
The cheers echoed loud and clear for all of Fontaine to hear.