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The words had been there since the boy could remember. An elegant scrawl, loopy and swirling like the tide. Now they proved his last hope, a glimmer of light in the stormy night. Oxygen for the drowning child. Soaked to the bone, chest heaving with ragged breaths, he clutched the metal box - more precious than life itself - tight. Shivering, he raked a hand through his hair and rocked impatiently on the balls of his feet. C’mon, c’mon; please. He didn’t have all the time in the world. Not tonight, not if this was going to work. The lift doors opened, and he shot out into the storm.
There! The Palais Mermonia, and his goal. Gasping, he swore as he nearly slipped on wet stone, and pinwheeled to regain his balance. No, no. He had to make it. He had to. Readjusting his grip on the metal box, he took a breath of petrichor-filled night air, and offered a prayer to the gods. Focalors, help him. Please. This was his only chance. It was this or the other route, and -
A chill wracked him, and he sneezed. Skidding to a halt in front of the Palais, icy eyes flicked to the silent Statue of the Seven, and he closed his eyes. Gods, please, grant him the chance to right this wrong. For his siblings, if not for himself. They were alone, some of them unknowing of the hell they were sheltered in, and he’d get them out even if it killed him. They were just kids.
So was he, but that wasn’t the point. He was here, and they weren’t. He hopped up the steps to bang on the grand double doors. Hair in his eyes, he held his breath as it opened. A Garde, their poodle by their side. Lamp in hand, he saw the way they looked at him, and felt something in him wilt. No, he wasn’t a stray, he swore! He was here for a reason - life or death, literally. Please.
“I need to see the Iudex!” It burst out of him, loud even in the storm around him. “Please, it’s important. I swear, I’m not pulling your leg, it really is. If I can’t see him, could I see a Melusine at least? Please. I don’t mean to disturb him, but I have something he needs to see. Him, and no-one else. I can’t trust anyone else with it but him. Maybe expect a Melusine. Please sir!”
“...Kid.” Oh, that was patronising, and he nearly snarled. “It’s nearly midnight, it’s pouring and you’re here alone. What are you doing here? Where are your parents? The Chief Justice is a very busy man, you understand. Hurry home now, before you catch a cold. Wouldn’t want you getting sick. You’re little - you look like the wind could blow you over. The Iudex is busy, okay?”
“Even if it’s a life or death matter, and I’m here to report a crime?” A snap; steel trap cold. “I told you, I need to see him. If not him, a Melusine. Please, I swear on my own life, it’s important enough to warrant his attention. Let me in already, would you? It’s freezing out here, and if I thought telling a Garde would work, I would’ve done so by now. Someone could be dead!”
The Garde reached out with his free hand, and the boy dodged backwards, lip curling. Eyes darting between the Garde and the half open door, he darted forward. Only to bite down when the man’s arm wrapped around his middle. A yelp of pain, and the taste of blood, he jerked his head to the side as the Garde dropped him. Kneeling now, he glared at the man and his growling dog.
“You little - assaulting an officer of the Gardes is a crime!”
Defiant, he scoffed. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t - let me in, officer, and I won’t cause you any more trouble. I swear, all I need is a moment of the Iudex’s time. Besides, what would he say if he saw you preventing a Fontainian from seeking help? Wouldn’t he be disappointed? You’re supposed to help the people, not hinder them. Drag me before him if you have to. I don’t care.”
The door slammed shut in his face, and the boy was left alone on the steps. Box clutched tight, he levelled a cold stare at the doors. No, he wasn’t here to be turned away by a petty officer of the law. Even if it made him a criminal, so be it. Couldn’t be any worse than what his foster parents had done. Damn them, damn them both. Sighing, he hauled himself up. Again.
Half an hour later, he was worse for wear and surrounded by a semi-circle of Gardes. They were under the impression he was a danger. A flight risk. Might have to do with the bite mark. And the man’s nose he’d broken. Oops. Pinned down, the metal box shoved to one side in the scuffle, he glowered at the Garde in front of him. They wanted a fight? Please. He was desperate.
Kid or no, he was determined to cause a commotion. This was important. His siblings needed him, and he didn’t want to go down the other route if he had a chance. Just as he went to get up, the sound of a cane on tile made him freeze. The Gardes, too, froze, all eyes turning to the doors of the Palais Mermonia. The boy held his breath, blinking rapidly from the rain and the blue glow of Hydro in the Iudex’s uplifted pam. It was like a cascade of seafoam, soft despite the depth.
Seizing his chance, he staggered to his feet, scrambling to grab the fallen box.
No-one else dared move, not even the Iudex. A boom of thunder in the distance made one of the Gardes jump, and he snickered. Readjusted the bandages on his arm. The Chief Justice’s eyes turned to him, and he swallowed. Hard. Oh. Nobody he knew had ever said the Iudex was so …pretty. Ethereal? Intimidating? Impartial? Yes, yes, yes. But no-one, it seemed, could have ever explained the man’s beauty. Were his eyes lilac or silver? The boy couldn’t tell. Both, maybe?
Standing there, framed by the Palais and the rain, the Iudex appeared to be some creature of myth. A figure of legend, carved from rainwater and smooth marble. It made his fingers itch, and he whined as he staggered again. Stumbled. Fell to his knees. Ow. Cold, wet stone and the appearance of someone who, perhaps, blasphemously in his thoughts, could rival a god in looks.
A waterfall of white hair, eyes like crystal, and rain-softened features. Again, so pretty as to be ethereal. If Lady Furina was like a bubbling spring or some mountain stream, then the Iudex was the sea at the turn of day. Or maybe a misty lake. A thing half-imagined, not quite real. Like those white swans he sometimes saw, all graceful form and distance. Fictional; an illusion of seawater.
Sorry, Lady Furina, but it was true. Head bowed, he snuck another look, and felt his cheeks heat against his will. The Iudex stood there, one hand outstretched, and the boy nearly choked on his tongue. Bandaged fingers met gloved ones, and the Iudex pulled him up with shocking ease. His touch was warm in the cold, like hot tea or warm soup. Enough to chase away the chill.
It made him want to cry. The Iudex squeezed his hand, long fingers gentle over his bandaged skin, and the boy shivered. Not from the cold, but the silent comfort. And yet - those crystalline eyes burned . They swept over the assembled Gardes, and the tap of that cane struck like another peal of thunder. Lightning lit their surroundings, casting shadows long and narrow.
When he spoke, he addressed the Gardes, not the boy.
His voice was like whalesong or the sea. The crest of an overcast sky. Sighing, with depths to it, and the echoing ring of the judge he was. More than that, it felt safe. The boy couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt safe after … everything. That living hell he’d been through. It made him want to curl up in it and go to sleep. He was finally, finally safe , and that realisation exhausted him.
“What is the meaning of this?” The words contained a simmering anger, hissing like steam. “Sedene informed me of a commotion, but I did not expect a child to be at the centre of it. You still have a duty to the citizens of the Court. If another citizen came to you, seeking a desperate audience with me at such an hour, you would let them in. Why should this child be different?”
“Monsieur -” That was the first Garde he’d met, and the boy sneered. He hoped that bite mark stung. “He insisted on seeing you, despite the late hour. And would not leave even when we insisted you were much too busy. Furthermore, we didn’t know what the box he carried contained. It could have well been a concealed weapon. He refused to hand it over to us.”
“A weapon?” Was it just him, or was there contempt in the Iudex’s voice? “That is a child, officer. Children are many things, but they rarely lie. They are honest, and if one came here in such conditions, it must indeed be dire. I would like to remind you that all people of the Court have a right to be heard before the law, and this child among them. My word on this is final, no?”
The Garde looked away, and the boy let his shoulders slump. It felt like he could breathe again, and he sniffled. Blinking back the threat of tears, he clutched the metal box tighter. A weapon? Him? Well, in a sense. But it wasn’t one to be used against the Iudex. Rather, by him. He hoped. It had been such a gamble to gather even this much, but he’d had to try. It was truly important.
The rustle of fabric caught his attention, and he startled, jumping backwards as the Iudex crouched down to meet his eyes. That hand that had held his rested gently on his head, and he shuddered despite himself. It was so …kind, and he wasn’t used to it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sniffled again, wiping his eyes furiously despite the tears. He hated crying. He really did.
The Iudex’s next words made his breath leave him in a rush, because he knew them off by heart. They were, after all, the very same words scrawled on his arm; the one he kept tightly bandaged to hide from view. The one that cradled the metal box tight to his chest. They left his eyes wide with something like awe. Wonder. No, no way. This was a dream, right? It had to be. It must.
“Now then, what brings you to the Palais Mermonia at such a late hour?”
It was so gentle, so soft. There was no trace of the anger he’d turned on the Gardes, and the boy licked his lips. Tried to find the words he needed. His heartbeat sounded so loud in his ears, he swore the Iudex could hear it. It was important he got this right. For himself. For his siblings. And the tiny kernel of hope alight in his chest. That he could, in fact, do this. That he was right.
“Assistance, sir.” A deep breath. “Assistance for my siblings. For myself. As I told the Gardes earlier, it’s a life or death matter. I’m here to report a crime against the children of the Court. Multiple crimes. Someone could be dead by now, if they’ve noticed, but I had to try. The ones responsible they - they’re monsters. Monsters in human skin, and they deserve to be punished.”
This close, he could see the colours that made up the Iudex’s eyes. They truly were beautiful. Neither lilac or silver, but something in between. Was there a trace of red there? The boy couldn’t tell, too focused on holding his breath as the Chief Justice searched his face. A slow inhale, silence falling like the rain, and the Iudex tilted his head. A finely pointed ear twitched, and the boy’s fingers itched as the motion caused a strand of long white hair to fall loose of its hold.
To touch the Chief Justice was a crime, he was pretty sure. Especially with hands as dirty as his. He was just an orphan, one entangled in a crime, no less. Certainly not worthy of what he suspected. He looked away, keeping his eyes fixed on his feet as another rustle of fabric filled the silence. The hand on his head lifted, and the boy blinked as his eyes burned with more tears.
“...Follow me.”
Squeezing the metal box, the boy hurried to obey. The Iudex believed him? He believed him? He believed him. He had a chance. Staring at his back, the boy finally allowed himself a tremulous smile. The doors shut behind them, the Gardes hurrying to follow as well. It was quiet in the Palais, but it was warm and dry. Even if he tracked water all over the floor, he kept his eyes on the Iudex before him. He knew at that moment that he’d follow him, if only to see what awaited.
He was safe, at last. It would be okay from now on; he was safe . Meaning his siblings would be too. Safe from the hell he’d been raised in. The one that had threatened to swallow him alive. The one that had nearly succeeded. He knew what he’d have done if he hadn’t had this option. He knew how it would have gone. Where, of all places, he’d have ended up. Within Meropide.
♡●♡○♡●♡○♡●♡
Soulmates were a curious concept, Iudex Neuvillette found. A uniquely human concept. The Melusines didn’t have soulmates, and neither did vishaps. Neither did other immortals, unless they had a human form. As far as he knew, no Archon had one. Lady Furina didn’t, after all. So it had been a shock, some ten years ago, to find soul writing on the inside of his right wrist.
He usually covered it with makeup, but the fact remained: he had a soulmate.
Two little words he couldn’t forget if he tried. Two words that had just come out of this child’s mouth. A plea for assistance. It was something of a cruel joke, as far as he was concerned. Soulmates could be platonic or romantic, but he didn’t know which the bond he shared with his would be. Nor was he all that interested. His soulmate had come to him seeking assistance.
Assistance he was determined to give. The boy - for he hadn’t yet offered his name - was small. Small for a human in his early adolescence. He was perhaps twelve? Thirteen? Too young to be ensnared in the jaws of the law. Neuvillette shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at his little shadow. The boy was small, soaked to the bone, and clearly terrified. But oh so determined.
Those eyes were bright again. Bright, like a glass of clear water, ringed with gold. Fierce and brilliant and lovely. There were tears, but he still looked him in the eye. Not many could do so. They found him too intimidating. It spoke volumes to him that this small child could. Inclining his head, Neuvillette motioned for the boy to continue following him. Past the entry of the Palais.
Into the offices proper, where Sedene waited. Sweet Sedene, who still cared deeply for the people of the Court, even after all she’d seen and heard. She was not Sigewinne, but she cared nonetheless. Proof? Right now. The gasp that escaped her at the sight of Neuvillette’s little shadow, and the way she dropped her paperwork to scramble out behind her desk.
“I’ll go get the towels, Monsieur!” Her tail bounced the way her voice did. “Some blankets and some tea, too. Oh, poor thing. It’s pouring out there! And it’s so late - whatever is a child doing out in the city after midnight? And in such a storm no less! What if you got sick? I heard thunder earlier, my goodness. It’s most unusual for someone so young to be here like this, forgive me.”
The boy’s eyes were wide when Neuvillette chanced another look back, and his cheeks warm. Swallowing a smile, he gestured towards his office door. But first - that star-struck look returned as water lifted from the boy’s clothes, condensing in Neuvillette’s palm. It very nearly made him laugh, to see such child-like wonder. Just a little parlour trick, nothing more. Not for him.
The water found its way to one of the nearby plants, and the boy, his way to one of the couches in the office. Sedene bustled in, and soon the boy was bundled up in towels and blankets. The metal box he’d clutched so tightly remained on his lap, small hands cradling a warm cup of tea. A sneeze broke the silence, and when the boy shook his head, Neuvillette paused in writing.
Wait. What was that? He’d seen something.
…There. The impression of dark ears, flicking water away. The swish of a fluffy tail, curled up against his side. Did this child - his soulmate - have some Inazuman heritage? Yokai blood? It's no more than an impression, a sensation, but Neuvillette had long since learned to trust his instincts on such matters. If not that, it was a glimpse into the boy’s constellation.
Meaning he would one day come to hold a Vision in hand.
He didn’t know which was more concerning. The idea that his soulmate had distant Yokai blood, or the idea that he had a constellation. There weren’t many canine constellations out there, especially under Fontaine’s sky. The one that immediately came to mind was Cerberus, and that made his ears twitch. Cerberus wasn’t a bad thing, but it brought Meropide to mind. And no.
He wouldn’t send a child, much less his soulmate, to Meropide if he could help it. That was no place for a child. Especially with the current Administrator. The man was perfectly respectable - on paper only. Letters from Sigewinne could only do so much: the Fortress was independent from the rest of the Court. And he suspected the Administrator used that fact to his advantage.
Unfortunately.
He returned his attention to the boy, seeing the way those cool eyes scanned the candlelit office. The windows, the door - he was looking for exits. An escape, if need be. It reminded him of Lady Furina in crowds, and something ugly squeezed his chest. This was a frightened child, and crimes against children? Among his most despised. Children should be innocent, not like this.
Not a cornered pup hiding in the dark, afraid of torchlight.
He moved to clear his throat, but a gentle head shake from Sedene stopped him. Instead, he watched the way the boy sank deeper into the warmth of the blankets. Watched the steam billow from the teacup, the slow sip he took. Neuvillette himself preferred water or consomme, even in wet weather. Heat wasn’t his friend, yet he understood the sentiment. Everyone had preferences.
Again, the impression of ears atop the boy’s head. No longer pinned back, something more relaxed now. Swivelling around to catch every little sound. A content thump of that fluffy tail, and the boy sighed. Leaned back, eyes slipping closed as weight dropped from his thin shoulders. Like this, the boy reminded him of a Northland Hound, or maybe even something wilder.
“...Thank you, Monsieur.” Those eyes were so blue in the dim light, like a sliver of ice. “For agreeing to hear me out. And thank you, Miss. For the blankets and the tea. They’re warm. Helps me feel a bit more human. Wouldn’t be the first time a Melusine has given me such a thing. Last time, I think it was soup. That was as equally warm and delicious as it was life-saving.”
Sedene merely smiled, but her tail gave her pleasure away, and it made the boy - his soulmate - huff a laugh. Regretful as he was to break the peaceful atmosphere, he needed to. Ashamed to do so, Neuvillette cleared his throat. Blue eyes snapped to him, and the boy tilted his head. Curious, watchful. Perhaps his guess of Cerberus’ constellation wasn’t too far off the mark.
Cerberus, after all, was most often attributed to guardians. Watchmen. The bulwark of a fortress.
A shield against potential disaster.
"So, then, what do you have for me? You came seeking assistance from me? I'm afraid I cannot begin if you don’t give me a place to start on such a thing." He paused. “Assistance for yourself and your siblings, you said. Which means it’s more than you caught up in this, correct? I won’t be able to determine a direction to take this with your words alone. Not that I’m saying you lied.”
“I understand. You need evidence. …Evidence I have.” It was blunt. Weary, and yet - Resolute, even, as those fingers curled tighter around the teacup. Setting the cup down, the boy handed the metal box over to Sedene. “That box contains what you need, I think. Evidence of numerous crimes, including murder. Against my parents. My foster parents, rather. It should help. …Sir.”
Foster parents? Eyes widening, Neuvillette reached over to turn on a lamp. Gingerly taking the metal box from Sedene’s paws, he opened it. No wonder his soulmate refused to let go of the box - it was crammed full of papers. A ledger, numerous letters, Kamera pictures, and small, scattered trinkets. Evidence. A lot of it. Evidence that must have been quite risky to gather.
The more he looked, the more damning it became. Sorting it into piles, he stared at the documents before him. He’d had an inkling for a while that was something fishy going on within the Court’s foster system, but this - This was horrific. Monsters in human skin had been an accurate description. What was worse was that this couple was vaguely familiar to him.
He’d heard of them. They were known for their kindness, and yet what was documented here told a very different story. Nor was it possible for this to be fabricated. Not when it contained dates, names and numbers like this. This wasn't a child's handwriting. What he had in front of him wasn't just evidence of a couple abusing the system. Or their foster children. It was more.
This pointed to an entire operation that had, so far, gone under the radar. A trafficking ring. It wasn’t just abuse and neglect. An environment of fear. The children under this couple’s care were treated as merchandise. They assigned certain …values to the children. Based on age, gender, skills and talents. It was a lot of money, too. As for the children who weren’t of value?
They were ‘disposed’ of. Hence the accusation of murder. He needed to investigate this himself. Who knew who - or what - might be involved otherwise. Smoothing gloved fingers over the documents, Neuvillette looked up. To his soulmate - this brave young boy - and to Sedene. Took a deep breath. He’d already known it’d be a long night, but this had been an unexpected twist.
“Sedene, fetch one of your sisters, please. Perhaps Rhemia? Someone patient. We need to handle this gently. Respectfully. She has, as Sigewinne would say, the bedside manner for dealing with a delicate case like this. The information here is the basis for an investigation, not the body of it. Tell her to pass word along to your other sisters: it will be a personal investigation.”
“Miss Sedene? Monsieur?” The boy paused, fingers twisting in the blankets. “This means you believe me, right? If that’s the case, would asking me questions help? Now that you’ve confirmed I’m telling the truth, that is. My word has more weight now, and I’m involved in the case regardless. They’re my foster parents, and my siblings. That makes me a key witness.”
Neuvillette glanced down at the evidence before him. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. Rain beat a faster tempo against the windows due to his displeasure, a growl threatening to leak from the confines of his chest. He forced it back. His ears flicked as he nodded. His soulmate was correct: his testimony would help, and he was already involved. Denying it solved nothing.
“You want to provide testimony against your foster parents?” Bless Sedene, able to say what he couldn’t right now. Her tail displayed her agitation; an angry lash against the air. “Are you sure? It won’t be easy. What you’re involved in is quite severe - the questions I’ll have to ask won’t shy away from the difficult ones, just because you’re young. Though I think you already know that.”
The boy inhaled. Another flicker of swivelling ears, a black tail lashing against the couch cushions. Angry, defiant. This young child was more wolf than anything else, and that feeling solidified when the boy looked at him, head tilted to one side. Those bright eyes then fixed on the Melusine, chin tipped up as if preparing himself for a fight. His expression? Like a film of frost.
Shuttered like the click of a Kamera lens. His lips were a grim line, eyes narrowed, fingers flexing around the teacup he still cradled. Cerberus, indeed. His eyes appeared to glow in the dim light, that ring of gold catching fire in the candlelight. Neuvillette pulled out a blank sheet of paper in preparation for what he was about to hear. Listening was the most respectful thing to do here.
“No. I know. Ask. My siblings don’t have forever. Neither do I. They’re just kids, most of them unaware. I’m a kid too, but I’ve seen too much to count anymore.” A pause, and he cleared his throat. “...Miss Sedene? You’re not a Garde, are you? I’ve seen Melusines in uniforms like yours when - when I was allowed out of the house. And before. Before my foster parents found me.”
Sedene shook her head. “No, I’m not a Garde. Not like you mean. I’m Monsieur Neuvillette’s secretary, and a member of the Marechaussee Phantom. We conduct investigations on the Iudex’s behalf, and we’re very good at it. A Melusine’s special sight allows us to track things humans cannot see. Like blood, for example, or other traces like fingerprints in a crime scene.”
A nod. “That explains it then - my foster parents don’t like Melusines. Personally, I found it very rude, but now it makes sense. It has to do with the blood on their hands. A Melusine could tell immediately, especially with how frequently my siblings get ‘adopted’. They’d never hurt one, though. That, see, would be a crime too obvious, and they only commit those out of sight.”
“You’re very calm about this,” It was a gentle thing; a statement. A fact. “Most people your age would be panicking, or in shock over what they saw. You’re not. We don’t have to start the questions right away if you’re not ready. But if you are, we can begin. Monsieur Neuvillette will record everything - my paws don’t make holding a pen easy, seeing as I don’t have fingers.”
It earned her a tired smile. Just a thin thing, but one all the same.
Sedene sat opposite his soulmate, paws folded in her lap. The boy finished his tea, setting the cup aside, and fixed his full attention on her. Another deep breath, a shake, and those brilliant eyes found Sedene’s purple ones. Bandaged fingers twisted in the fabric of the blanket as he nodded. There was that determination from earlier, settling naturally over thin shoulders.
“Okay. Let’s start. As far as I know, I’m fourteen. Nearly fifteen. My foster parents never bothered to check beyond that. I was a homeless kid they picked up off the street; who’d miss someone like that? They named me, fed me, gave me clothes and a roof over my head. Mostly, though, they called me ‘stray’. My siblings were the only ones to call me by name, and even then -”
Those thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. The boy sighed, looking away. Towards Neuvillette, then back to Sedene. His mouth twisted into a grimace. His body language had changed, and with it the impression of his ears and tail. Those ears were once again pinned back, his tail tucked tightly against his side. He was afraid. Unsure. As if something had dug its claws into him.
He swallowed. “Even then, it was a nickname. You see, my foster father declared me his ‘junior’ and thus named me after himself. I’ve no desire now to keep that tie. Not now, with everything that’s happened. Forgive me. There is a name I remember - not mine. One I saw. It’s stuck with me; belonged to an old noble, I think. Oh, what was it? Um, let’s see. …Wriothesley?”
“Is that what you would like us to call you?” Sedene inquired, tail twitching. “For the purposes of this report and everything after, I mean? Names are something personal, I understand, so it’s alright if you wish to take more time to consider this. Don’t rush yourself - our questions can wait. They don’t have to be answered in one night. It is late. Most people are sound asleep right now.”
“No, it’ll do.” Another shrug. “I don’t particularly like it, but it’ll grow on me, I’m sure. Better to be associated with an old dead noble than a child murderer. So. Like I said, I’m fourteen. Fifteen in a few days, I think? A week or two? Can’t quite remember. Had other things to worry about. More important things. Y’know. Like if I would live to see my birthday or not. That kind of thing.”
“I see.” Sedene’s tail flicked again. Once; twice. “So, Wriothesley, what else can you tell us?”
A huff, more bark than laugh. "It was either run, or commit a crime. And I'm desperate, but not that desperate. I don't care if my siblings hate me, I'm damned if I do. Damned if I don't. Either way, I had to try. Besides, I’d rather not be dragged before the Iudex like that, even if it came out I had understandable reasoning for murder. My hands are dirty as is, I don’t need blood on them.”
His smile was crooked, giving the impression a dog with one ear flopped over. It was a ghost of a thing, not a real smile. A facsimile. Well aware of the irony in what he’d just said. Too many were afraid of merely breathing wrong in Neuvillette’s presence. He was the Iudex, Chief Justice of Fontaine. And this scrappy little pup had confessed to considering murder. How audacious.
Sedene blinked. Blinked again. “Elaborate on that for me, if you could, please.”
The rest of the questions unfolded smoothly after that, painting a grim picture. A dark one. By the time Sedene had finished with her line of questioning, Neuvillette had several pages of notes. And a much clearer understanding. What Wriothesley said was correct. If not for the words scrawled on the young man’s arm, he very well may have committed such a crime.
So he’d had little choice but to run. The thought gave Neuvillette chills - the idea of first meeting him in the courtroom. He was all too aware of what the verdict would’ve been. No matter what came to light, this child - brave as he was - was honest and just. Damningly so, in a case like what he imagined. There would be no innocent verdict; it was Vautrin all over again. Guilty.
He would have sent a child - one the universe deemed important to him - to Meropide. Into the clutches of the current Administrator. Condemned him to exile. Straight into the place most Fontainians called hell. The mere concept made him nauseous. He didn’t doubt Wriothesley would’ve found a way to survive, but it didn’t sit well with him. More than that, it left him furious.
Thunder cut the silence in his office like a knife, hiding the rumble in his own chest. Neither of the other two in the room reacted at first, until Wriothesley laughed. He’d taken to fidgeting with a nearby teaspoon, and spun it between his fingers as he grinned at Neuvillette. It was cheeky; delighted. Troublesome. Behind him, his tail wagged - the first sign of happiness all night.
“Someone must have really angered the Hydro Dragon if the storm’s that loud, huh? It was bad enough on my way here, but that is something else. Glad it’s late - or early - enough that next to no-one’s out in the streets. It sounds like it’s right over the Palais, too. Yikes. Doesn’t Lady Furina live somewhere above the offices? Hope it didn’t wake her. I can only imagine the commotion.”
Neuvillette? Dropped his pen.
And Sedene, sweet Sedene, burst into giggles. She must have seen the humour in it all. It was most unlikely that Wriothesley knew Neuvillette’s identity, of course, but - This child. Audacious, and a handful, to boot. He’d really inflict Lady Furina’s shenanigans on him so casually? While it was …nice to see he’d relaxed some, Neuvillette still struggled to comprehend what he’d heard.
“Excuse me?” His voice sounded incredulous to his own ears. “Care to repeat that, young man?”
That grin turned sly. “Why, Chief, I didn’t know you tolerated our Archon so little. Isn’t she your boss? I’m sure you know the legend of the Hydro Dragon as well as anyone in Fontaine. All I said was that if the big weather-controlling lizard is so mad they’re out here causing thunderstorms - well. It’s going to wake someone up. Lady Furina was just a convenient example, that’s all.”
Neuvillette just spluttered in response. ‘Weather-controlling lizard’? Oh, Sovereigns. While not incorrect, perhaps, it was still insulting. Picking up his pen once more, he returned it to its proper place, and focused on tidying his notes. Determined to ignore his giggling secretary. That said - it had been quite a while since he’d heard Sedene laugh. So it wasn’t as bad as he made it seem.
And yet that ridiculous rhyme haunted him still. There were days he desired nothing more than to find out who had started it in the first place. But if it gave him moments like this? Maybe it could stay. Maybe. Wriothesley asking Sedene questions about her sisters was just background noise. Peaceful and kind of endearing, but background noise all the same. He had papers to sort.
The sound of footsteps drew him from his thoughts, and he blinked up at the disturbance. Wriothesley. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, lamplight catching on a scar under his eye. Another peal of thunder filled the silence, drawing a snicker from his soulmate. Neuvillette looked at him, one brow arched in disapproval. The boy just shrugged, tail swaying from side to side.
“Can I help you?”
The question was tinged with wariness. Neuvillette was still undecided on what to think about this scrappy, audacious pup, after all. Honesty and a sense of justice were indeed redeeming qualities, but the cheekiness? It was very different from Lady Furina’s theatrics. Refreshing, he’d admit - if only in the privacy of his own mind. Not many regarded him as more than his position.
“I know you don't like the idea of me helping, sir, but do you really have a choice? They’ll notice I'm missing at some point, and if I'm honest, you won’t have much of a way in without me. As I said, they’re wary of Melusines, and all others who could investigate are adults. Maybe you’d slip past their defences with a ‘buyer', but that’s unlikely. Besides, they believe children to be fools.”
“No.” Immediate refusal, his heart somewhere in his throat. “It’s too dangerous - you’re a child.”
A snarl answered him, the boy’s lip curling. “I’m involved in the case either way. As I said: damned if I do, damned if I don’t. They’re my foster parents; my siblings. I know how to navigate both the house and them. You can’t do this alone, Chief. Don’t be stubborn. That’s my job. I noticed you didn’t mention the Gardes - you’re handing this off to be investigated immediately.”
“Wriothesley.” His tone brooked no argument. “There are processes and procedures to this, even without the Gardes involved. And, I repeat: you are a child. I would have it on my own conscience if something serious happened to you. That’s not something I can allow. I understand your frustration, but the information you have provided tonight has helped. Please, stand down.”
Tail lashing behind him, ears pinned flat against his head, Wriothesley tipped his chin up. Arms folded across his chest, he looked away - his scowl plain across his face. Blue-grey eyes narrowed as one hand curled into a fist, but he took a half step back. Acquiesced to the order without further complaint. Neuvillette sighed, too aware this was more than teenage rebellion.
That nagging feeling that this was, in fact, the influence of Cerberus’ stars was only getting worse. While it was possible the impression was from some Yokai blood Wriothesley unknowingly had - wolves weren’t exactly common in the Inazuman Archipelago. Dogs? Yes. But not wolves. And this was distinctly wolfish behaviour. Pack instincts on full display, even now.
In this case, his siblings were his pack. And those few under Cerberus had always been guardians. He half expected Wriothesley to start pacing, but he stayed still, eyes turning to regard him once more. Those eyes dropped to the piles of documents and one ear twitched. His tail swept lazily behind him. Once, twice, seeming in consideration. Again, that same ear flicked.
“...Alright.” A grumble. “But I’m still helping. And you can’t argue. I might as well make myself useful. If you won’t involve me in the investigation, I have another idea. I punched a Garde earlier tonight, so why not use that? Self-defence or not, my foster parents are determined to appear benevolent - one of their children in court is quite the stir. I’d just be bait. Why not ensnare them?”
“You …want to lure them into the courtroom under false pretences?” It wasn’t ridiculous, not at all. In fact, it was deviously clever. “Are you sure? That could be quite the endeavour. It would have to be carefully planned. One wrong move and it’s all over. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, it just requires …consideration. To execute properly. Say we go ahead with your plan, what then?”
The grin he got in reply? Fierce and full of teeth. And something in Neuvillette purred with satisfaction. He wasn’t all talk, all bark. No, he had plenty of bite too. Excellent. Clearing his throat, he straightened out the stack of papers in his hands. He knew his ears were burning with embarrassment, and he could only hope the varying light levels hid that fact from his soulmate.
(He could have sworn there was a glint of light off fangs, and that - that was a surprise.)
“First of all, it would get them out of the house. That’s step one - their security is awful, really. All you need is an idea of the layout, some lockpicks, and nimble hands. Failing that, my younger siblings all adore Melusines, and you have an entire department under your command. It would be really easy for someone like Miss Sedene to find the evidence needed. Eye-wateringly so.”
Obvious, in other words. Had he a tail, Neuvillette knew it would be flicking from side to side - much like Wriothesley’s had been earlier. Like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Back and forth. It felt …strange, if he were honest. To have his draconic instincts rear their head now. He’d managed to grapple with those feelings for so long; managed to contain them. But he knew why.
Because some part of Wriothesley was wild as he was. Not in the same way, of course, but wild enough. That grin was full of promise: Wriothesley was, undoubtedly, a fighter. And if his sheer audacity hadn’t caught Neuvillette’s attention - it had - then that grin had him purring. Pure predatory intent. Dangerous, even at his young age. He had something to live for. Fight for.
Good.
“Step two?” Only centuries of practice kept his voice even. Without emotion. “If step one is to lay the bait …step two must involve them taking it. Meaning they’d be in the courtroom. The Opera Epiclese. My domain, Lady Furina’s commentary aside. And much as I despise this, this is Fontaine. The twist would certainly appeal to the people’s love of drama. A good show.”
“...Ah, you got me. I confess to banking on Fontaine’s addiction to quality theatre. People here love the twists and turns of a trial. Free entertainment is free entertainment. Messed up? Maybe. But we can use that to our advantage. I don’t intend to let my foster parents leave there alive. Metaphorically. No murder, I promise. No blood on my hands. I aim to please, after all. Monsieur.”
It was a drawl, one that had Neuvillette’s eyes snapping up. Wriothesley’s eyes glowed in the lamplight, like ice illuminated from the inside. That ring of gold? Once again aflame - like molten metal. Hypnotising. The bow, mocking as it was, was a tad .. much, and yet it drew a quiet huff from him. Almost a laugh. Almost. Merely fourteen, and already capable of scheming like this?
He approved. What a pity it would’ve been, to lose a mind like Wriothesley’s to Meropide.
To the Administrator’s clutches. Although, he would admit there was something extremely satisfying about the idea of Wriothesley taking over from that …man. Very much so. It was an idea that came all too easily. Naturally. Perhaps the impression of his constellation? Neuvillette would have to do some digging into legends about Cerberus just in case. To refresh his memory.
“Enough of that, please.” Exasperated, not annoyed. It merely earned him another smile. “Come, let us work through this plan of yours. Before it gets any later. You’re only young, you require much more sleep than I. Quietly now - I think Sedene’s dozing off on the couch. Wake her, and guest or not, you will regret it. The Melusines are most precious to me, I’m sure you understand.”
Wriothesley turned to look, and his expression softened. Neuvillette watched, silenced, as the young boy crept over on light feet. As he grabbed a blanket and carefully, gently, draped it over Sedene. Tucked it around her, set her hat aside. As the rain lightened against the windows, he cleared space on Neuvillette’s desk, before perching on the edge. Reached for a sheaf of paper.
Neuvillette handed it over without protest. The atmosphere had shifted, inexplicably. It was … cozier in his office, now. Warmer, somehow. No longer was it so still. Dark. The slow tap of Wriothesley’s shoes against the leg of his desk was soothing, and his smile was like a puddle after rain. Sweet and kind. Fleeting, but memorable all the same. It made him want to stop time.
Impossible, and yet -
Laughter. Low; genuine. “...No, I do. Understand, that is. I’d do anything for my siblings. If not for the whole soulmate thing, we'd have first met in the courtroom. Not ideal, I know, but I’d have made the best of Meropide, I think. I would have owed you a great deal, Monsieur Neuvillette. Guilty sentence or not, I’m sure I’d have spent the rest of my life trying to repay you. Fancy that.”
“...You really would have committed murder?” His voice was a mere whisper. “Wriothesley, you’re just a child. A teenager. Meropide is no place for someone so young. Especially with the current Administrator - and Meropide functions independently from the Court. There’d have been nothing I could do to help you. The law is - Chief Justice I might be, but even I’m bound by it.”
“I know.” Oh, that smile was terribly sad. “It’s okay, Chief. If the Administrator is as you say, I wouldn’t have ignored him. I’ve found a way, don’t worry. This is all hypotheticals anyway - I’m here, and I have help. No murder for me, no blood on my hands. …Hand me that document?”
“Of course. Here.”
Bandaged fingers brushed his as he passed it over, and he stared, spellbound, as Wriothesley’s cheeks darkened. That fluffy tail swept over the desk like a feather duster, and Neuvillette retrieved his pen out of need to do something. Impression or not, it was hard to fight the impulse to touch. It looked so soft. A canine ear swivelled in his direction and he turned away, face hot.
Sovereigns dead and gone, his ears were burning again. Not just his ears, either, but his cheeks too. It felt much too warm in here all of a sudden, and he tucked a strand of hair behind one pointed ear. Refocused his attention on the things before him. He was the Iudex, and several centuries’ old besides. Not a hatchling anymore. He had no reason to act this way. Even so -
Was …this what Sigewinne’s texts meant by ‘butterflies’? How strange. It felt like water from Cider Lake, even as the sensation tied his stomach in knots. It was different from anticipation or nerves. Fizzy, almost. A sense of buoyancy, not the unpleasantness of carbonation. Fonta was a new creation, but one he found too sweet. Too acidic. Must be the Bulle Fruit used in the recipe.
His nature meant he was pickier than most in regards to food. Tea had taken some adjustment, and coffee was too bitter for his tastes. This silence, however, was peaceful. Comfortable, in a way it had never been before. He found little need to fill the space with words, and evidently, Wriothesley felt the same. It was … nice. Really, really nice. He could get used to this, in fact.
The shuffle of paper filled the void that had threatened to swallow him the night prior, warm lamplight catching on Wriothesley’s expressions. On his hands as he gestured, the motions a natural extension of his habits. He liked to fidget, it seemed. His earlier thought about his soulmate pacing might have some merit after all. As for his voice? That never lifted too high.
All to keep Sedene asleep, Neuvillette imagined. Something he deeply appreciated. He’d been so unsure even a half hour ago, but now? Ah. He wasn’t. If this was what it was like to have a soulmate - he could understand. There was a grace about it. An ease. He felt settled. Refreshed. Like he could breathe, as if he were outside in the drizzle. It would be nice, yes, to have this.
For himself, and for Wriothesley, who’d taken such a gamble tonight. For a simple chance.
♡●♡○♡●♡○♡●♡
The newly-dubbed Wriothesley blinked awake in a room that smelled like paper and ink. Pulling the blankets tighter around himself, he blearily studied his surroundings. Blue. So much blue. Blue carpet, blue curtains, even the windows were tinted blue. It was nice, though. Quiet. Peaceful. Similar to what he imagined being underwater was like. More than that - it felt safe.
His eyes caught on an ornate key resting on the table nearby, and he blinked. Smiled. Ah, that’s right. He was in the Iudex’s office. Miss Sedene had chased the Chief Justice out after she woke from her nap, somewhere around two-thirty in the morning. She’d then pressed this key into his palm with a kind smile. Told him to return it into the morning, and to use what he needed to.
Like the Gestionnaires’ break room. More than that, it locked the door to the Iudex’s office. He’d never had a door that locked before. His parents had made him share a room with his brothers, one with a plain wooden door. Prior to that, he’d been on the streets, so - a lockable door was a new experience. It meant more than he could say. Grabbing the key, he turned it over in his palm.
Cool to the touch, smooth and shiny. Heavy as he weighed it. Eyes flicking up to the grandfather clock, he sighed and pushed the blankets back. Five, huh? Well. He doubted he had much time before the earliest of Palais staff arrived. An hour or two, at the most. Time to freshen up. The sooner he did so, the sooner he could go back to sleep. He rarely got to sleep in, after all.
To the break room it was, then. Miss Sedene had said he could use whatever he needed, surely that included the cups as well? He was awfully thirsty. In need of some water. The most he’d take was a conch madeleine or two to snack on. Apparently, she’d said, there was a collective cookie jar? Now, that, he’d like to see. Besides, dessert was something of a treat for him.
Did he mind? Well, no. And the cookies, as he soon found out, were good. Really good. Just sweet enough, and wonderfully crumbly. Splashing water on his face, he left the glass he’d used to dry and hurried back. Locking the door to the Iudex’s office behind him, he set the key aside, and stared at the room in front of him. It smelled like paper and ink - and, faintly, of black tea.
Breathing it in, he curled up on the couch and allowed himself to doze off. Not much would dare to disturb him here. And not much did. The sound of a key in the lock roused him, as did the skipping gait of a Melusine, but he drifted again until a hand brushed over his hair. Gloved, long-fingered - opening one eye, he blinked at the culprit. And … wait. Was that giggling?
The Chief Justice placed a finger against his lips, and Wriothesley hummed in response. Whatever. He was going to ignore the two Melusines behind him, then. Wasn’t his business. Grumbling a complaint, he rolled over. Pulled the blankets closer once more. If it was nothing urgent, he was going to go back to sleep. He needed it after yesterday. How long it had been.
Yes, it left his back to the door. So what? He could relax here - it was safe. There was no need to be hyper-vigilant in the presence of the country’s most powerful man. Not much’d get past him. …Except Lady Furina, apparently. The doors to the office slammed open, disturbing the peace, and Wriothesley groaned as he sat up. Last he’d checked, he wasn’t on the floor, but - Ow.
At least it stopped Fontaine’s Archon in her tracks?
Thankfully?
“Lady Furina,” Or maybe it was the Iudex’s tone. “Please refrain from throwing open my office doors. I’ve told you countless times before to knock. It may only be eight o’clock, but I have my first appointment of the day in an hour. Several of the Gestionnaires have been here since seven. I have already been working for two and a half hours; I have a new case at hand. What is it?”
“I wanted to check on you after last night’s storm, that’s all!” A huff, her hands going to her hips. “While I was unaware you had a guest, Neuvillette, is it not charitable of me to check on my Chief Justice? From what I understand, you didn’t leave the Palais until early hours of the morning. Again! Now, then, who’s this young man? It’s not like you to take a vested interest in strays.”
‘Stray’? Him? Wriothesley was momentarily stunned into silence. Then the emotion kicked in.
“My name, Lady Furina, is Wriothesley,” His voice was tight with rage; a snarl. “ And, for your information, I’m not a stray. He was the one who deemed it safer for me to be here, given certain factors to the new case. A case I happen to be heavily involved with. If anything, your first guess was more accurate - I am the Iudex’s guest, and the one who brought the case to his attention.”
His hands were shaking, curled into fists. Teeth gritted, he tipped his chin up defiantly, and stared his Archon down. While he was sure she’d meant no harm by it, it still stung. His foster parents had been the ones to call him that - despite their protests to the contrary, such a thing wasn’t affectionate. What did they take him for? A fool? Hah, please! The thought made him scoff.
Footsteps behind him, and a hand on his shoulder. Instinct nearly had him throwing that hand off, but the fact he was on his feet stopped that line of thought. The gentle pressure of the touch was enough of a reminder to breathe. As was the look in Lady Furina’s eyes. Looking between her and the Iudex behind him, Wriothesley heaved a sigh. Her apology - her remorse - was obvious.
That was enough for him. He was unlikely to get anything else from her. It was, after all, well-known how theatrical Lady Furina was. He couldn’t decide if it was just her personality or she was exaggerating for the fun of it, but whatever. A silent apology? He’d take that. He ducked away, and retreated to the couch. To tidy up. He needed to do something. Occupy his hands.
“...Furina, that was uncalled for,” The Iudex looked resigned. Tired, even. “And you know it. Your expression appears to be an apology enough for Wriothesley, but the fact remains. Child or not, he is my guest. A very important one, as he just told you. I would not have known about this case if not for him. I am remiss to let him leave for his own safety, and thoroughly undecided.”
She blinked, those bluer-than-blue eyes wide. “It’s that bad? Neuvillette, just what -” A pause. “Just what is this case, to have you so concerned? I heard Sedene tell Liath she’d sent a letter summoning Monsieur Callas to your office. To keep watch and wait for him. Cases involving children are delicate, is the Spina di Rosula the best choice here? Callas is a father, isn’t he?”
“That’s precisely why I’ve summoned him.” Monsieur Neuvillette’s fingers tightened on his cane, expression grim. “Wriothesley isn’t the only child involved in this case. The only one at risk. I have a plan and spent many hours last night checking it over. As for the ones responsible, trust they will be brought to justice. Before the court; before the Oratrice. And they will pay for it.”
At this, Wriothesley smirked. “Don’t you worry, Lady Furina. It will be plenty dramatic enough to satisfy Fontaintain sensibilities. Just sit back and enjoy the show. That’s all you need to do. No spoilers - that’s no fun. I think the twist in this trial will have the audience on the edge of their seats. I’m looking forward to it. Who knows? I think it will be another one for the history books.”
Finished folding the blankets, he dusted himself off, and with a sly smile? Bowed to both his Archon and the Iudex. Wriothesley offered a salute - fingers tapping against his temple in a wave. Cheeky? Mayhaps. But if the Iudex had an appointment soon, it was time for him to head off. His involvement in the actual case was coming to a close: he’d done all he could.
Played his part. Now all he had to do was wait for the trial. He trusted the Chief Justice to have the rest handled. In this, the Iudex had more practice and more experience. His only job was to keep his head low. Stay out of trouble. Survive. He was a former street kid, he could manage that much. Surely. Back home, then. To his siblings. To his foster parents. Alright. Not long now.
The muffled tap of a cane made him pause. Hand on the door, he turned. Lady Furina? Silent, hand over her mouth. But the Iudex? Fontaine’s Chief Justice, Monsieur Neuvillette? Backlit by the window, expression grim. The sound of rain against glass was soft, but its presence? All-too telling. Eyes fixed on the Iudex, Wriothesley tilted his head in silent question. Asking; querying.
Wondering.
Gloved fingers squeezed, grip on that fine cane ever tighter. A deep breath.
“...Wriothesley.” The Iudex stopped, hesitated. Shook his head. “Be careful. Stay safe. Rhemia will take you back - she’s a Melusine in the Marechaussee Phantom. Currently on holiday. You should be fine on your way back. If something goes wrong, however, take your siblings and get to Poisson. I will inform Spina di Rosula’s president, Monsieur Callas, of the details required.”
“Just my siblings, sir? Not whatever evidence we can get as we go?” Hey, it was a valid question. “Wouldn’t the evidence be the most important thing for a case like this? One so …complicated? Or am I mistaken? I understand that my life and that of my siblings’ is important, of course, but - well. They’re my foster parents. I do, in fact, know a thing or two about them.”
“No.” Immediate refusal, just as expected. “If things turn dire, risk nothing. Get out. Get to Poisson. Monsieur Callas will handle things from there. Please, if I ask nothing more than this, it’s that you survive. Do nothing that would put yourself in jeopardy. You’re the primary witness in this case. I understand your desire to seek justice, but it must be done by the letter of the law.”
“Of course, Monsieur.” A breath. “Like I said last night, I don’t intend for them to escape. Stick to the plan, nothing more. We’ve been over this - I know my part, and I leave the rest to you. If all goes well, I’ll see you on the day of the trial. In court. Not before. If it doesn’t, ah. I guess there’s a chance you’ll get to meet my siblings. All of the same, I appreciate your concern. Until then?”
“Until then.”
Walking away from the Palais Mermonia entrance, he took a breath. And another. Another. He knew his hands had curled into fists, but he did nothing to stop it. The view from here was grand, sure. The sunlight felt better, though, and he tipped his face towards the sky. Watched as the clouds scattered like a flock of birds. Look at that - the earlier rain had vanished without a trace.
Catching sight of a red-headed Melusine, he waved in greeting. That must be Rhemia; unlike the other Melusines of the Court he’d seen so far, she wasn’t in uniform. Dodging a puddle, he made his way over. Hands shoved into his pockets, he straightened. Closed his eyes. He could do this - get revenge and prove he was more than his foster parents thought he would ever be.
He had to focus. After all, he had a trial to attend. At the Opera Epiclese, no less. Supposedly his own. Not this time - that was merely the precedent. The game to catch his foster parents? Was on. He’d play his part, so that the Iudex had no reason to worry. After all, he trusted he’d do the same. Had the Chief Justice ever not closed a case? Especially one he handled personally?
Not that Wriothesley could recall. He’d been in the role for centuries - that was more experience than he could dream of. Experience that was now on his side. Boy, it felt good. He couldn’t hide his smile as he followed Rhemia, and why would he? He’d taken a chance on something. A true gamble, and one that’d proved successful. No longer was he his father’s ‘junior’. No more.
In the end, he’d meet the Iudex at the Opera Epiclese, after all.
In the courtroom.
On trial.
There? They’d get the justice his siblings deserved. All of them - every one.