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The dark skies above Fontaine split asunder as a blue bolt streaked upwards towards the heavens, rising high above the Opera Epiclese, thrumming with purpose as the clouds wept in sorrow. None would bear witness to the culmination, to the final sentence of the nation of Hydro and its people, except its judge.
He finally stops, high enough to see the entirety of Fontaine and its lands, even the Court seemed small from so high up. With so much power at his fingertips, Neuvilette pondered, for just a moment, if this is how the Usurper-King feels. Perched above the world, watching Teyvat, their divine gaze able to shape the landscape and its people as they see fit. He wonders if they feel the same burden, the same loneliness as he now does. Yet, how could they, when they are the one who caused so much pain, so much hurt to the world below?
How long he had dreamt of recovering what was once his, the ancient authority of dragons. To feel how every raindrop hits the dirt. How the currents of the seas transport endless life, how lazy waves embrace the shore. The usurpers had taken this away, and now it was returned to him. He was now the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, one of the seven elemental gods of Teyvat, with unquestionable and absolute authority over one of the seven elements.
That power, the puzzle piece that should have completed him, made him whole once more, feels nothing more than a knife plunged into his heart. How cruel, that what should have been a moment of triumph turned into one of lament. He shudders as the raindrops wet his hair and clothes, leaving tracks along his face. He had never thought, in 5 centuries, to attempt to take it back forcefully from his archon, having grown too attached to the woman and the nation they co-ruled together. It had been given to him, at the cost of a life.
“You are a devious one, Focalors…” He had said, yet he can only feel grief at what she had to do for what was just for him. “No…” He thought. This was not justice. In the end, the Hydro Archon was just as much a victim as he or Furina were in this grand performance. Forced to plan her own end, the torture of her own human counterpart, the veil of lies to blind not just the world, but Celestia as well. She had saved Fontaine and done right by him, but to do so, she had to give her life.
Focalors had to engineer her own death, watch in silence as she must have hoped and prayed for her scheme to work, for her counterpart to hold onto the act for every moment, knowing that everything was placed into her hands now, and just the smallest of disturbances could ruin centuries of work. Even then, she had admitted to it, her fear of death, and she carried through nonetheless, to do what she believed was just. Even the faintest flash of her death widened the wound that it left on his soul, right next to where his Authority now is.
Furina had to suffer for 500 years. 182,625 days. Every minute, every second, an act where she had to be someone else, play as something she was not, fragile human that she was, he can only begin to imagine the pain must have been like, or would she have become numb, after all this time? The thought alone wracks grief through his cold body once more. He had known something was amiss, that she lied and was always putting on a brave face, and yet… he did nothing. He did nothing and he actively participated in setting her up, in humiliating her, in betraying her. Her only constant in half a millennia, her only companion. Perhaps, her only friend.
The Iudex does not dare continue that line of thought any longer, choking up a sob as he lets the rain wash over the nation, for he could no longer bear to hold it all in. It was all too much, it was all so unfair. Who would do right by Focalors? Who would do right by Furina? For suffering the brunt of an unjust sentence, passed by a Divine Throne so removed from the world it did not feel the consequences of its actions? If he had any will for it, he would cast a hateful glare to Celestia and swear thrice more to bring down the gods and punish them righteously for this, for all the suffering inflicted. With this power, he certainly feels like he could. Now was not the time, Fontaine was his charge, and he would not disappoint her, not more than he already had, it was the least he could do.
Instead, he musters his power, his regained Authority. To do right by his Archon, both divine and human, he must see this through, he must forgive Fontaine for a sin that they should never have suffered in the first place. He feels it once more and concentrates, the power over Hydro itself, the power to create and transform life. He feels every heartbeat, the primordial sea within each and every Fontainian. His first decree as Hydro Dragon Sovereign, to save the mortals of their nation.
“I Iudex Neuvilette, hereby declare…” He breathes, the words flowing out of his mouth in a tired, almost exhausted tone. Every drop at his very command, the might of the Primordial Sea and the blood of all Oceanids turned human. He focuses on it. Any enjoyment of the feeling is immediately poisoned by the grief of what he has done and witnessed.
“People of Fontaine, your sins are forgiven.” Forgiven for what? There is nothing to forgive. A punishment most unjust that this nation has suffered for centuries. A sin that has taken the life of its Archon and hurt countless more. And yet, as he finishes his declaration, the skies split open once more, a beam of pure Hydro reaching out to the clouds above, and the rain slows, for just a moment, and Neuvilette could, if he wished so, end the tumultuous storm and cast the clouds away.
“Focalors…Furina…I am sorry, for everything. For all you had to sacrifice, for Fontaine, and for me.”
He does not, the pain he feels, not just for his people, but his Archon, is too much to bear. Alone up in the skies, he mourns and he grieves, as the rain descends back unto the earth with full force. The force of a Sovereign’s tears, and his silent apology. His body is wracked by grief and loneliness. Is this how Furina felt? Alone, isolated and unable to share her burden for all those years? As he floats above the Opera, he can only wonder, and he feels so terribly alone.
And so the Dragon weeps, high above his people, alone in the rain, with nothing but the guilt, the pain and the sorrow of being the only witness to this performance, the one cursed with this knowledge. The one who had seen it all happen, had an inkling that something was wrong, but never acted on it, and let this go on for centuries. He understood it had to, for the sake of Fontaine. And yet, remorse is all that he feels, for not being there. For not being the companion he should have been, instead of the Iudex he was.
So much still had to be done, that Narwhal had to be tamed and defeated. The consequences of the trial had to be felt, and he can only dread what that will look like. The only peace he can muster is that perhaps, when the sun shall break, once he has finished grieving, Fontaine will finally be free of its burden. And hopefully, Furina shall be as well, of all lies and duty, of the role she had to play.
A burden he will accept in her place, a workload he shall shoulder, if it means that she may reap the fruits of her sacrifices, of her suffering. Alone he may have to do so, but what is another 500 years to an immortal being such as he? What is his pain and grief compared to hers in the flow of Fontaine’s history?
He does not know, and his duty will not wait any longer. His heart is still wounded and the emotions still swirl inside of him like a maelstrom. But he must depart, the rain has given him all the time it had. He must return to the Opera and finish her work. It is what she and Fontaine deserve, and in this cruel world, it is all the time that they are given.