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When Arlecchino had been anointed as the 13th disciple of the blessed Focalors, they were not baptised as per the instructions of the Holy Sacraments.
In a literal sense, you may state that they indeed were. Their head had been dipped into the river leading to Elton Trench by Neuvillette himself, a symbol of the beginning of their total devotion to their saviour. Their eyes had burned red from how long they had been forced open beneath the river’s depths, their hair was left absolutely drenched to the point that not even the strong winds that day could have dried it, and the water itself had seeped into their lungs and left them choking afterward.
Arlecchino did not feel the holy spirit possess their being nor did they feel the grace of Celestia. No, they only felt plain water. The rocks that sank to the bottom of the river scarred their feet with their edges. The sun shined so bright that they knew it wasn’t the light of the Heavens anymore, but a sample of the heat that The Abyss’ domain possessed. The dove that had flown over the scene of the baptism had fallen deceased into the river without reason as well, yet its corpse was simply washed away by the running water before the others could notice.
When Arlecchino was raised up from the “baptism”, they were met with immediate applause and cheers from their fellow disciples, a sign that they were officially one of them . Focalors herself had then stepped forward to personally embrace the 13th disciple, and as warm and genuine it may have felt, Arlecchino saw the way her gaze was focused on the subtle trail of grey that the dead dove had left before it disappeared into the distance instead.
In truth, Arlecchino knew they had only been chosen as a disciple for their skills and the assets they would contribute to the group of wandering missionaries, not for the unconditional faith that the rest had been known and converted for. Arlecchino had no true regard for the Messiah that they followed through both the dark and light, and perhaps Celestia Himself knew of this if He truly did have an all seeing eye.
Yet, even still, Furina had only looked at Arlecchino in the way that they could just tell was different from the rest of her disciples.
With every remark of doubt Arlecchino had made towards her teachings, Furina’s punishment for them had always been a private praying session with her; but in the end, the disciple would catch her staring at their features instead whenever their eyes were “closed”.
Each time Focalors would give a kiss on the cheek to their disciples for a blessing of guidance, Furina had always looked at Arlecchino’s lips first before pressing hers against the corner of their mouth.
Whereas the other twelve preached Focalors’ divinity and her divine grace and blood to the masses, Arlecchino chose to emphasise Furina’s humanity and her flaws as a human being rather than an icon. And despite every calm scolding Focalors would give them regarding how carefully the disciples’ words should be, Furina would always pull them aside and thank them with full gratitude for it later at night.
As all who had seen Focalors’ miracles would praise the saviour’s beautiful power, Arlecchino cherished the beauty of Furina’s eyes; the beauty of their toothy smile; and the beauty of the laugh they would let out whenever she finally had time to relax.
Arlecchino knew they were hopelessly in love with Furina de Fontaine, and yet in the end, they still found themselves stiff as they sat at the table of what Focalors had just declared as their last supper.
“One of you will betray me tonight.”
The 13th disciple’s hand stopped exactly before the bread had been dipped in the bowl.
The announcement had been greeted with numerous reactions, none comforting in the slightest. Many had gasped at it, some stared at Focalors in shock, and Arlecchino? They did not know what to do.
As the daughter of Celestia sipped the chalice of her own blood, the disciples had started bombarding her with questions of uncertainty and confusion, all the while Arlecchino had merely stared at her from where they sat. She knew. And she knew that Arlecchino knew it.
After a lack of explanation from the demigod, they had resorted to asking a different yet easier chain of questions, to which she had finally responded.
Neuvillette had gone first, “Is it me, Focalors?”
She falsely pondered for a while before answering, “Of course it isn’t you, Neuvillette.” And she did not elaborate further. He did not need her to as well, and simply nodded in relief.
“Is it me then, my lady?”
Focalors had turned to Chevreuse and shook her head, “It’s not you as well.”
After finishing their cup of wine, Clorinde had also spoken out of necessity, “Will it be me, Lady Focalors?”
The questionee immediately gasped and put a hand to her forehead in a dramatic manner, “How did you know?!”
Everyone except Arlecchino had a, for lack of a better term, visceral reaction to the accusation. The most notable was Navia's, who had stood up to defend her lover’s honour first and foremost while Clorinde herself pleaded with them to sit back down.
It didn’t take a while for Furina to burst out laughing at the entire display, pointing at the rest of them while she did so.
“Oh my! I can’t believe you fell for it! Of course it couldn’t be you, Clorinde! You’re incredibly brave, but not brave enough to do that .”
Both the aforementioned and Navia had sighed in relief, but it didn’t erase the unease of the fact that the traitor was still in their midst. For Arlecchino though, their discomfort was from the knowledge that the Fatui were already making preparations for Focalors’ cell while they sat here and acted just as clueless.
But in a moment of doubt and suspicion, Arlecchino caught a shine in the way Furina’s eyes still giggled from her own teasing. It was a reminder yet again that she was a human as well, and that they had sold out not only their saviour, but someone whose smile shined more than her Father’s sun did.
When Furina finally stopped laughing, the entire table had gone silent; it didn’t occur to her that she had been the only source of noise for the past few seconds. She had even coughed to signify at least one person to speak, but that just made the scene look even more awkward than it already was.
Arlecchino, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped staring at her with those same indiscernible eyes that Furina admired all the same. With a sigh, she chose to stand up and everyone else’s attention had gone on its highest alert.
“I… Um…” Furina didn’t know where to look. Their vision wandered from the food on the table, to her closest companion beside her, and finally, to Arlecchino’s eyes again, whose gaze had somehow hardened.
“I’ll… I’ll just go downstairs to pray more. No one should follow me.”
Neuvillette had been first to reply once again, “Are you sure, Lady Focalors? There may be danger lurking outside those doors, especially if you speak of such a betrayal.”
Wriothesley pushed forward to the edge of his seat as his hand subtly wandered to touch Neuvillette’s under the table, “He’s right. At least one of us should come with you, my lady. Well, someone that isn’t the traitor, that is.”
“I assure you, I don’t need any—“
“I will accompany you.”
For the first time since they had taken a seat, Arlecchino finally spoke along with standing up. Furina could not reply, not when they were giving her a glare that left no room for objection.
With utmost reluctance, she groaned, “Ugh! Fine then!”
When Furina had walked towards the exit, Arlecchino made no pause and followed quickly until they had gone in front of her. As they opened the door, the shorter woman had made one final announcement.
“Don’t follow us under any circumstance! …Wait no — I mean unless one or more of you die though, please call us then. Otherwise, just continue feasting, my brothers and sisters! Happy Passover!”
And with that, the duo had gone out and shut the door on the rest, only staring at each other for an approximate two seconds before descending down the stairs leading to the outside.
Upon finally stepping foot onto the stone path, the first thing Arlecchino noticed was how unusually bright the night was. In some other parts of the nation, the residents would say the sky was adorned by clouds and left no room for light, but for Furina and Arlecchino, the clouds perfectly parted to make room for a wonderful view of the moon and the stars. It seemed Celestia always did make way for His child first before all else.
When the disciple looked back at the other woman, she had already sat down on the pavement, staring at that same moon as well. Arlecchino did not ignore how beautiful the moonlight reflected off her face as they sat down beside them.
For the next few breaths, neither of them said a single word. All they could do was stare at the sky, for they could not bear to look at each other knowing what was soon to come.
The tension between them was thicker than the bread of her body, and it was when Arlecchino sensed this that they finally spoke the same as the rest.
“Is it me, Focalors?”
At this, the saviour’s hand clenched, “Furina. Call me Furina.”
Arlecchino could not revise their statement before Furina had continued, “When I am to be captured, and tried, I know they won’t call me by my true name. They will call me Focalors to taunt me for my fraudulence until the moment where I will not have the voice to correct them. I will not hear the name that my mother, Egeria, had called me since I was visited by the three representatives of the Narzissenkreuz Ordo; the only time she defied the command of my Father to name me Focalors.”
She took a deep breath before finishing off her speech, “For my final night as a free woman, I want you to call me by that name, Arle. Call me by the name you had always familiarised with me and the one I feel happiest with. Let me hear you commit blasphemy once more and ignore my divinity, and view me as a pathetic human who loves. Please, let me hear your voice whisper it to me one last time, for it was and still is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”
Arlecchino did not have the heart to tell her that her name was the sweetest thing that ever came out of their mouth as well, not when they also dared to utter it as they made negotiations with the Fatui.
“…Is it me then, Furina?”
Furina grit her teeth at the question, she wanted to deny the answer so badly.
“ Is it you, Arle?”
The 13th’s silence was enough for the both of them, but the air felt heavy again once it continued. After a while, it had been Furina’s turn to make due with their time together.
“How much did they offer you in exchange for me?”
“30 pieces of silver.”
There was no use hiding the details about the betrayal now. Whatever Furina will ask, Arlecchino will answer.
The demigod furrowed her eyebrows a little bit before humming in compliance, “Fair enough. I’d say I’m worth ten gold bars but that amount can suffice as well. What were you planning to do with it?”
Arlecchino leaned against the bricks behind them, “Ten to finally travel back home to my children, another ten to provide for their needs, and the last ten would be personal savings.”
“Seems you planned this well too. I’m ashamed to have forgotten you love your family more than me.” There was no hint of malice or bite in her words, Furina simply stated it as a fact.
“I’m sorry for making you leave them. I know they were your entire life before you turned into my disciple.”
“All is forgiven. They had to learn independence one way or another, and based on how I’ve heard they’re still alive, it seems they learned well.” Furina only nodded in agreement.
She scooted closer to Arlecchino as another idea popped into her head, “You know what else 30 pieces of silver can afford?”
“What, Furina?”
“A wedding.”
“A wedding?”
“Yes. A small wedding at that, but still a wedding nonetheless.”
A small smile could be seen on the Messiah’s face, but that combined with their solemn eyes gave away what they were exactly imagining.
“…Even if we had the time to, we couldn’t have done it. There’s too many factors to consider other than just our mutual feelings.”
A blush spread across Furina’s face as she sat up and finally faced them, “So you admit you love me as well?”
Arlecchino shrugged, “I do not love Celestia, nor do I love His child… But I do harbour affection for the human daughter of Egeria.”
Furina wanted to smile, she already was, actually; but it slowly faded as she remembered why exactly they were having this talk. She could only sigh.
“It’s a shame we only did this now. Imagine what we could’ve done if we'd said this months ago! If I wasn’t about to be dead tomorrow! We could’ve…”
Before she could go into detail, a few too many scenarios popped into her mind. It was all tame, most romantic and some heartbreaking, but all very dramatic. There was one particular thought that made her a shade redder than any wine she had transformed from water though.
“What got into that little head of yours this time, Furina?” Arlecchino smirked as they slouched to face her.
“I… You… W-We…” Furina continued to stammer until an even riskier thought came to her, to which she took an incredibly deep breath before finally looking the disciple in the eye.
“Arle?”
“Yes."
“Take me tonight.”
“Excuse me?” Arlecchino’s eyes widened at the insinuation of the request.
“Take me. Bring me to bed. Show me pleasure before you show me the road leading to my executioners.” Her hand went up to caress their cheek with a determined gaze. It was normal for them to see Furina go through the most drastic of mood swings, but this was an entirely different matter.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not? Have you never wanted this at least once?”
“Of course I have, but we are not wed, Furina. Bedding you without fulfilling matrimony is a sin.”
“I’m dying tomorrow for the sins of my people, I might as well die for my own as well. Besides, I’m getting resurrected anyway!”
Arlecchino grabbed her hand and firmly put it down without letting go of it, “And how are you so sure you’ll come back? What if your prediction is a farce and you never return?”
“And whose fault is it that you will lose me in the first place?!”
Furina brought her vacant hand to her mouth upon raising her voice; she was more startled by herself than Arlecchino even was. The disciple, on the other hand, did not even flinch as the guilt pierced through them once again. The only indication that it did was how their grip tightened around their love’s hand.
Arlecchino looked back at the exit of the building for any sign that one of the others might have heard it, but turned to Furina and sighed once they felt that no one else was in listening range.
“Furina, that is exactly why I cannot fulfil your request, I cannot taint you more than I already will. I cannot taint myself with more than just your blood on my hands. You are a sacrificial lamb, and you must be the purest of all. Celestia may be forgiving, but their punishments are also no less cruel.”
Their grip loosened but still, it refused to let go. Arlecchino’s thumb chose to caress her palm instead, “I refuse to prove them right and aid you in sinning before they make you suffer. I can, but I will not.”
It was safe to say that until the final word, Furina had been rendered speechless. Two sides conflicted inside her; one wanted to push through with her request, the other wished to laugh in Arlecchino’s face for being an absolute sap.
In the end, an entirely different response had come out of her mouth, “You know, this is one of the things I like the most about you.”
“Which is exactly?”
Furina chuckled, “How you stand your ground even when the other person agrees with absolutely nothing you’re saying.”
Before Arlecchino could reply, she took their hand and brought it up again, but to her own face this time. She then kissed their hand gently before she let go of it and stood up.
“I bet the others are already getting concerned for us. We’ve been out for quite a long time now.”
It certainly didn’t feel like a long time, but Arlecchino failed to see any reason to disagree with her. They had looked up at the sky again and saw that the moon had been obscured by the clouds at this point as well, so that was proved to be sufficient evidence.
The disciple pondered on what she said as they pushed themselves up from the pavement. She was right, Arlecchino had been the type to make a decision once, and be so convinced that it was the correct one that they’d never change their stance despite anything else. Which brought them to one final question —
“Furina?”
The Messiah had already been a step away from ascending the stairs leading to the banquet when she had been called. She turned her head to them, “Yes, Arle?”
“Why… Why are you not convincing me to not push through with my betrayal? Why haven’t you asked me why I will do it?”
They were already expecting a multitude of answers from her, many along the lines of how ‘this will lead to her predestined fate’ or how this just fueled her obvious suicidal thoughts. And one of their predictions ended up being what her answer actually was.
“Because it is your choice. If you don’t want to do it anymore, then don’t. If you will, then go ahead, I will not stop you or look at you in disdain for it.”
Arlecchino was unsure of what to do as well, but all they did was nod their head, content with the reply. It was odd how Focalors had not addressed their second question, but they themselves did not know the answer to that as well.
It was only after a few hours had passed that they finally found their answer.
As the Fatui followed behind them whilst they walked through the disgusted and betrayed faces of their fellow disciples, Arlecchino had only looked at Focalors’.
She was calmer than most would be in this situation, but she always was whenever it had been truly a grave one. She had accepted her fate and Arlecchino’s choice with open arms, and they didn’t know whether to weep or resent her for it.
When the traitor had come face to face with her, they stared into her eyes searching for any sign of fear or hopefully disgust towards Arlecchino, but they found none. It had only dawned on them now that this may be the last time they’ll ever see those eyes looking back at them.
All that was left to do was kiss her. Kiss her and all will be done. Kiss her and they will get the silver. Kiss her and seal their love’s fate.
Arlecchino had been someone who was always decisive, but they did not know what possessed them to stand stiff in front of her and not move. They did not know why they couldn’t do it now when they had all the time in the world prior to this to reconsider their choice.
When they did finally kiss her, it was not by their will, but hers. Furina had kissed them by her own volition, it was practically suicide. But no other thought had come to Arlecchino when they kissed back with as much passion and held her face in their hands. It was their fantasy and the reality of their darkest sin colliding.
Perhaps this is why Arlecchino had felt the urge to persevere with the betrayal, to feel this at least once.
Their biggest regret was not when they felt the saltiness of Furina’s tears on her lips. Their biggest regret was not when Furina had been pulled away by force and chained by the Fatui to be dragged to their cell. Their biggest regret was not when Clorinde had threatened to end their life once all the disciples had been left in the garden.
No, Arlecchino’s biggest regret would be their hanging during Furina’s crucifixion. Not for the fact that they rightfully ended up in the underworld for such a sin, but how when their love resurrected from the dead after three days, Arlecchino had left Furina searching for them with no clue that that night would be their first and last kiss.