Chapter Text
The rain was relentless. It would pick up at unexpected intervals and lighten all the same. Though this wasn’t unusual for those inhabiting the region of Fontaine, they still couldn’t help but find it less than pleasant. Because of the unpredictable weather, it was custom for most to always carry an umbrella or something of the sort. As long as it could shield you as well as your goods from the downpour.
Of course, there still many who believed themselves capable of predicting the weather ━ a practice that had been present for nearly three hundred years. In face of such haughtiness, one could only scoff and hold their own weighty umbrella close.
Against the porch of a flower shop leaned a well-built, bearded man. In hand was a newspaper and in the crook of his elbow was a long, sleek black umbrella. He wasn’t one of the practitioners who wished to be elected as weathermen, no. Unlike most who scurried as far as the eye could see the moment a measly drop of rain fell upon them, this man preferred taking advantage of the quiet streets brought on by the weather.
He had time to spare, and he knew this very well. A big trial taking place paired with the unsightly weather… Of course, the streets would be empty. The man took his time reading over the paper in hand. He even dared to entertain the idea of fetching himself a cup of tea, should any cafés still be running in this dreadful setting.
The thought was quickly shooed from his mind, however, when his eyes landed on a section highlighted with a large “BREAKING NEWS!” header. He offered his full attention, reading over the section once before something clicked in his head.
“Ah… Is this not the very issue that has taken the court by a storm?” He pushed himself off the doorway he’d been using as a back rest. In turn, the top of the paper that had him enraptured was exposed to the rain. The bearded man, however, could not be bothered to pay this any mind.
It was an extra covering a recent case and a large-scale robbery. “Word has it that this issue has forced quite the amount of tension within the upper court.” Interjected a new voice. It was light, a weird mix between mature and youthful, and held an undertone of playfulness despite the severe topic being discussed. “Lady Furina leaving the court has already messed with the power scaling quite a bit. Many now covet what the Iudex holds in his hands but fails to put to good use.”
The older man couldn’t help but flinch at the intervention. Odd personalities were common around Fontaine. That, however, didn’t mean that it was easy to grow used to them. His eyes flickered between the paper, whose words slowly grew illegible as the ink got corroded by the rainwater, and the new figure by his side. He sized them up before going on. “Right… The political struggles aren’t all that terrible this time around. It should be a while before the people are touched.”
“We can only hope ━” The figure straightened up. The older man tried to get a better look at his guest, but a long veil that obscured the upper half of their face seemed to serve as a barrier between the two. He could only watch as the corner of their lips curled upwards, the hand on their chin creeping to conceal the event. “that it is not brought away with the other happenings.”
Sparing not another glance to the startled man, the veiled figure waltzed into the rain, fingers interlocked behind their back and puckish tune mirroring their reckless steps. A bizarre sight, one uncommon for a working day in Fontaine. It only clicked when the man’s red eyes fell upon the portrait drawn on the paper he held in his hands.
The rain had seeped too deep, the portrait itself looking distorted and from the bottom of the paper felt black-tinted water. Yet the portrait that took up a small corner of the paper was still somewhat distinguishable. From the description given by a witness, what the man saw was birthed. An androgynous figure. Obscured by a veil and identified by the devious smile on their face.
With a shriek, the old man let the paper fall from his hands, fluttering to the floor and obscuring an envelope that had been drenched in rainwater. His rushed footsteps prevented him from paying it any mind, as he almost slipped on the overlapping sheets of paper before quickly catching himself and running along.
“Thief!” he shouted, “The phantom thief is here!” Who his voice reached; none will know until the following morning. What the man disregarded, aside from opening the umbrella that he’d dropped, only the rain that dragged it into a nearby drain will recognize.
The umbrella rolled by, pushing a shimmering lei into the drain. The light dimmed, the black-bodied umbrella obscuring it for good. Once more, all that could be heard in the busy court was the sound of the falling rain.