Chapter Text
Waking from a deep, dark dream, she sweated profusely, blindly waving her hands in the darkness, grasping for something—anything—that could comfort her. Her hands found his. No, she'd prefer to say that his hands held hers, for he could sense her every action, even in dreams, and spoke to her whenever those nightmares ensnared her.
"Is everything all right?" he asked.
She sighed, softly squeezing his hand as if to convey that she was fine. However, she couldn't help but speak the truth: "It's... it's not... Neuvillette, you ask this question every time I wake up from a nightmare. You know it is NOT all right." Somehow, she couldn't control her temper.
"I'm sorry, Furina. I should have asked it differently. Would you like to talk about your dreams?" His touch felt like a gentle wave carrying her, lifting her from the vortex.
"I..." she trailed off, sensing a part of her withdrawing. You are escaping, AGAIN, Furina. What are you frightened of? Him? That part of her questioned. Furina knew, deep in her heart, that tone belonged to Focalors. She let out a frustrated moan, lying back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.
They were in her apartment—well, 'his apartment', truth be told, as he covered the rent and all the furniture expenses. She wasn't keen on him footing the bills, especially since she had saved some mora from her career as a director and an actor. "We are sharing this apartment, anyway," he had said. "I should pay for my part." The truth was, every two weeks, the landlady received a check from Palais Mermonia that covered every expense.
They shared this apartment. The thought thrilled Furina, yet simultaneously made her anxious. It seemed their relationship had been kept a secret, partly because neither of them desired their relationship to be spotlighted by Steambird — at least not so quickly, especially while Fontaine was undergoing her rebuilding after the flood. Everything between them unfolded after the premiere of Furina’s first self-directed film. When Neuvillette knocked on her door with a bouquet of lakelight lilies, their mutual attraction had abruptly surged, catching Furina by surprise, akin to witnessing the blending of Ousia and Pneuma. Was it due to the alcohol, newfound freedom, or the exhilaration from her successful premiere? Furina had forgotten it all, except for their first night in that small apartment—a genuine and secure nest she could finally call 'home'. Everything seemed perfect, except for her nightmares. Furina herself contributed to the reason they kept their relationship a secret. It was evident that Neuvillette understood her concerns, though he chose not to say out loud.
"I'll be here for you whenever you're ready," he said, holding her in his arms. She couldn't help but bury her face in his embrace, savouring the fresh oceanic scent enveloping her between his arms. The aura of the hydro element surrounded her, evoking a familiar sensation akin to what she experienced in her dreams. Trembling, she spoke, "I dreamt of myself—or rather, the reflection I saw in the mirror—standing on the stage of Opera Epiclese. A colossal sword hung from the ceiling directly above me."
"That's—"
"Yes. I know what you want to say, and I recognize who she is." Furina flinched. "And 'I' should have been dead, shouldn't I?"
"A part of you, the Archon, to be precise." His voice trembled slightly. "And right now, your whole self is here, in front of me. Please don't say it again."
"The dreams are continuous, like episodes of a series. She smiled at me as if she'd been waiting for a long time—probably five hundred years, huh?" Furina continued, "She extended her hand as if inviting me, akin to an invitation to a ball, before the sword fell."
"But that's not possible."
"What if it is? I mean…" Furina cleared her throat, trying to be as persuasive as possible. She knew Neuvillette avoided considering the Archon's death. She understood he had been haunted by it since the day of the prophecy, even though he never verbalized it—similar to some of their other issues. "What if it suggests the prophecy crisis hasn't been resolved yet?"
A heavy silence settled between them as they sat on the bed, simply gazing at each other, attempting to discern emotions from their eyes. Furina fixed her gaze on Neuvillette's eyes—at that moment, he appeared more dragon than human, his temper simmering beneath the surface of the hydro element.
"I saw it with my own eyes," Neuvillette spoke after what seemed like an eternity. "Focalors took her own life using the Indemnitium after her final dance. How could she possibly be alive after all that? But... wait..." he trailed off. Simultaneously, the hydro element surrounding them began to sway and murmur—not a sweet melody, but closer to a lament.
"Isn't it intriguing?" Furina whispered. "The hydro element sensed her existence. The sensation is more like... she's nowhere, whereas—"
"She's everywhere." Neuvillette shut his eyes, seemingly drifting into a reverie or the abyss of infinite memories. "Water remembers everything. It seems you were influenced by her remaining power within the hydro element. Moreover, due to your connection as an ancient Oceanid, you could sense her in the Vision."
"You're grieving, aren't you?"
"I have to admit," Neuvillette sighed, "The grief has never stopped."
"Can you see her in the hydro element?" Furina asked softly. Those nightmares tasted like coffee—they prevented her from having a restful night's sleep, yet they became oddly addictive. Somehow, she yearned to see Focalors one last time, just to bid farewell. However, she hesitated, reluctant to subject Neuvillette to the same suffering by witnessing the sentence of death again.
"I couldn't. But with your help? No idea," Neuvillette replied matter-of-factly. "If you wish to see her, or perhaps fragments of her consciousness, I'll try."
"I... I don't know. I want to stop those nightmares, but part of me is afraid of facing her. It's like... well, if I were an actress, I'd fear the judgment from my director, right?" Furina hesitated.
"But you are the director, as always. Focalors, Furina—they are you. You orchestrated everything. According to Focalors, you are who she aspires to be—a human, rather than a Hydro Archon. If there has to be an actor, it would be me," Neuvillette smiled, gently squeezing her hand. "And I'll never regret completing this film with you."