Chapter Text
Just as flowers bloom and fall and clouds swirl and disperse, so do all things in the world ebb and flow.
There will always be those who seek to bask in the glory's glow alone atop the highest peaks, yet languish in the valley of despair, bemoaning fate's unwillingness to realize their desires, even as they finally depart along with their fury.
Her speech still rings in their ears, the falseness, the truths within. It's a lie, wrapped in truth, like the meatnado dish Paimon so adores. She said so much, but all it meant was that she'd rose above her challenge, that the would-be hurts inflicted on her were forgiven because they were made from misguided hearts. The words still ring in her head…
My dear citizens of Fontaine!
What a spectacle it’s been, oui? Passions flared, secrets spilled, and oh! the drama! One could write an entire comédie judiciaire from the last month alone.
But now that the stage lights dim and the curtain falls on chaos — I must speak.
First and foremost: no hard feelings, hmm?
We all played our parts. Some grand, some… misguided, but all in good faith — or at least, good theater.
Let’s start with our Traveling friend, shall we? Everyone seems so eager to wag fingers at their behavior. But come now — they were simply caught up in the fervor! Swept into our whirlpools of intrigue without a proper script or director. Can we really blame them? Besides, it’s not as if anyone handed them a playbill explaining who’s who and how things are.
As for Navia… a child led astray. Her heart was too full of justice, and her grief — too easily twisted. And let’s not forget — Marcel was one of her uncles. Family ties can blur the lines between what’s right and what simply feels right. She was not malicious — just misled. As many of us had been.
And now, with Callas Casper returned to the fold, with our lost siblings returned home — Fontaine stands poised once more upon stable ground. The grown-ups are back in charge, as they say.
And to those asking, “How did this all go so wrong?” I say: Mon dieu, what else would you expect from an organization literally named for foolishness? The Fatui! The FOOLS. Who entrusts national stability to people whose organization is foreign and whose name is practically a punchline?
But here —
Here is where the me you know steps down from the stage.
Because the time for performance has passed.
Yes, I have played my part. For years, I wore the crown of justice like a costume — dazzling, deflecting, diverting. I thought if I played the role well enough, if I danced and proclaimed and punished loudly enough… perhaps none of you would notice how hollow the truth had become.
But Fontaine deserves more than a performance.
You deserve a real Archon — one who listens, one who learns, one who leads.
And so, I cast aside the pretense — not because I regret it, but because the waters demand something new. A quieter strength. A justice not built on spectacle… but on substance.
From this day forward, I will no longer be Furina the showgirl god, flitting from case to case like it’s another act in the opera.
No — I will be Furina, Archon of Fontaine.
And I will not let our people be used again. Not by fools. Not by family. Not by fear.
So let us put away our swords and subpoenas. Let us lift our glasses, adjust the drape of our coats and capelets to sally forth — not in shame, in style.
This time, with purpose."
Lady Furina handwaved away the accusations, knowing that they'd tried their best to help, and that is a kindness to them, no matter how galling. It is forgiveness and
The newspaper in hand wrinkles from how she's holding on, and the eyes are all the more obvious and painful to bear, as there is now pity mixed in with the condescension.
A pity about the poor girl.
Fooled into such misconduct.
What renowned traveler could be this blind to the influence they have on others?
All mockery.
As her pace quickens, it's then that she meets someone rather unexpectedly, quite literally running into Navia. By the way her shoulders are practically bound into perfect posture by some invisible force, it's clear that she too is suffering from their shared folly, as well meaning as it was. Perhaps more, since she had more to lose going into it, what with the Spina and all. It's hard to separate her from the group she leads, even in thoughts.
Despite her awkwardness and the invisible shame that holds her tightly, Navia is as kind as ever. "Salut Traveler! Sorry for bumping into you like that. Have you been well?"
It's been a time. Living in the Court, even Fleuve Cendre, means eyes are everywhere. "It's been well enough, what brought you to the Court from Poisson?"
"I've come over for some suits, some of our member's had their uniforms ruined due to the reconstruction efforts involving more heavy lifting than the material could stand." It's good to see Navia giggle, especially with the weight of the eyes. "One of our members over-laundered their dirtied suit jacket, causing the seams to give in."
"Would you like to come to Poisson with me?"
How could I not? The eyes, on both of us, are heavy, but it's always nicer to share a load than suffer alone. "Sure!"