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“You were born into this world all alone.”
The former Knave, Mother of the House of the Hearth, sat on a stool overlooking her countless children. And dozens of eyes stared back, eager to listen to her story.
“But here in the House of the Hearth, you will grow up to be strong. Your goal is to learn, to compete, to defeat all of your brothers and sisters in battle and become ‘King’.”
She closed the book, eyes scanning the room as countless children from all walks of life gasp in awe. But those children could never measure to her crown jewel, not even her own child could.
“Where’s Furina? Didn’t she want to hear the story?”
“Ah- excuse me, Mother!” A blonde haired girl raised her hand enthusiastically, and Crucabena held back an eye roll. “She’s singing to the cats again!”
Such wasted potential, Crucabena thought. But she let those thoughts stay thoughts. “That girl… she really doesn’t get it, does she? Clervie; see to her.”
Clervie looked up, eyes not quite meeting Crucabena’s. “Oh, okay.”
-
“Ah, si je pouvais vivre dans l'eau,”
Even before Clervie stepped into the garden, she could hear an angelic, almost divine voice. And it was so beautiful, so pure that she couldn’t help but continue to listen to it.
“Le monde serait-il plus beau?”
Hiding behind a pillar, she observed a solitary figure kneeling, the shadow of a small, soft smile visible. The cats seem to be huddled around the figure, entranced by her voice.
“Nous pardonneras-tu, ô chère mère… you know, I know you’re there, hehe!”
Clervie jumped as a pair of heterochromatic blue eyes stared back at her, and she almost dropped the cake she was holding. She let out a nervous giggle. “Umm… I brought cake. You… uhh… want some?”
Furina laughed, a wide grin appearing on her face. “Of course! I love cake!”
And it seemed that all else faded away, as the duo sat in the garden, happily munching on cake and exchanging stories.
-
“My dear Furina. Look at me.”
Plop, plop, plop.
It only made sense that the body and spirit of the God of Justice could bleed.
Plop, plop, plop.
But why did it feel so unwelcome? So agonising?
Plop, plop, plop.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Furina.” Crucabena’s voice was way more forceful, harsh. And Furina couldn’t help but flinch. She understood why Clervie could never look into Crucabena’s eyes either. It all made sense now.
“You are so naive.” She hissed, her other hand raising the cane once more. “You fail to see what you are. What you could truly be. And you throw it away to sing to animals?”
Furina bit back a sob. It hurt so much. She never would’ve thought that their seemingly loving ‘Mother’ would lay a finger on her, let alone whip her.
“But it seems you haven’t learned your lesson, Furina.”
And she could no longer hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill over.
-
“…do mothers usually strike their own children?” Furina whispered.
The duo sat at a windowsill, wrapping each other’s bandages. But Clervie ignored that comment, pushing the window open. The sight that met them was beautiful.
Blue and purple weaved the tapestry of the sky, stars adding a layer of wonder and awe. It almost made Furina forget the pain, the suffering. Almost.
“Isn’t that the Opera Epiclese?” Furina weakly gestured to a building, almost out of eyeshot. Clervie smiled and nodded.
“I heard that they have all sorts of musicals and plays there, Furina… when we’re grown up, can you perform on the stage for me?”
Furina smiled wistfully. She had never really thought about performing on the Opera Epiclese or being an actress. Being a member of the House of the Hearth basically blocked all those possibilities off. “Well, I…”
“Promise me that when you grow up, you’ll become Fontaine’s most beloved star! Furina de Fontaine!”
But when Clervie said it like that, that dream actually seemed possible for once.
-
In the arid, harsh arena, both knew that only one of them would leave alive. And the other would die by their hands. Green eyes met blue, but neither seemed to want to let the other die.
How ironic.
What originally started as a duel turned into the duo throwing themselves at each others’ weapons. It felt more so like a dance of death, one final tango that the two would share together. And for a moment, Furina seemed to get lost in it. It felt like she was dancing with Clervie under the moonlight again. Until blood splashed on her face, tainting the perfect, spotless figure of the God of Justice’s humanity. She stood there, frozen, her rapier impaling Clervie’s torso. It was a clean cut, one that would make most Champion Duelists proud.
“You will be… a great ‘King’.” Clervie forced a smile, but Furina could see the light in her eyes quickly disappearing.
“…no…”
“I’m sorry… thank you.”
A deafening thump resounded through her ears, and Furina wept bitterly.
-
Furina was never a person who enjoyed fighting. She deeply hated what the House of the Hearth had made her do, what she was forced to be. Day after day, she wished that things could’ve been different, that she could’ve had the opportunity to live out her dreams of being an actress.
But if there was one thing that Furina was known for, no matter what, Furina never gave up.
She was never a vengeful person, but this felt right. To kill ‘Mother’ and to avenge Clervie. And thus, Furina started to train. Day after day, her once pure as porcelain hands became riddled with blisters and scars from battle. But despite everything, she was still Furina. She would work herself to the point of tears every day, but go to bed and wake up the next morning for that process to repeat once more.
And on one particular day, she had decided to return to the garden where it all began. It was so much more different now; in actuality, it really wasn’t that much different. But the absence of Clervie, the knowledge that she would never come back painted the garden in a much different light.
She let the water in the creek run through her fingers, and for a moment it felt like Clervie was holding her hands again, singing and dancing with her. Though when she opened her eyes once more, a crimson gem appeared in her hands.
Furina let out a bitter laugh, tears forming once again. Perhaps this Pyro Vision was Clervie’s final gift to her.
-
“I should’ve pruned this flower long ago, not waited till it wilts… how grotesque.”
The Lumidouce Bells in Crucabena’s hands felt like a personal mockery to Furina. Because they were. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Furina lunged forward wordlessly, her rapier pressed against Crucabena’s own sword. It was a dance of fire and water, but Crucabena’s steps were calculated. Condescending. Every step crafted to make Furina’s confidence falter.
Furina staggered back, but she managed to maintain her composure.
“Innocence and kindness are such beautiful qualities.” Crucabena mused, her gaze taunting. “Sadly, they’re also useless.”
And Furina didn’t even notice the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Hahahaha… you’re so overconfident! You think that… you-“
“Tsk, tsk, Furina. You’re crying again. It seems you haven’t learned your lesson.”
“Am I, now?!” Furina laughed, albeit a little maniacally. “Am I crying, ‘Mother’?! Then punish me! Put me in my place!”
“A bird tied down will never fly the nest. You are no exception.”
Furina’s laughter grew, tears streaming down her cheeks at a way faster pace now. Yet her attacks grew more haphazard, with more room for error. And she found herself hurled back into a pillar, rubble collapsing around her.
She allowed her tears to spill on the Lumidouce Bell, and she allowed herself a moment of reprieve. She knew that Crucabena was walking towards her, about to gain the advantage, but she didn’t care. And in that moment, she heard a voice in her head.
“Furinaaaaaa…~”
“Hehe, you seem to be in quite a pickle. I am so, so proud of you, Furina. And I always will be.”
“Oh, Furina, don’t cry…” Crucabena cooed. “Let your ‘Mother’ guide you, and you shall become the one true ‘King’!”
But despite all this, Furina stood up. She rose from the rubble, eyes to the ground, her expression somber.
Crucabena continued to attack, but it was no use. Something had changed. Furina’s flames were no longer red; they burned blue, brighter than she had ever seen before.
“Mother.” Furina whispered, kicking Crucabena into the ceiling. “…toodle-oo.”
The building was engulfed in blue flames, and Furina let it all burn.
-
It’s so cold.
Furina shivered. Snezhnaya was perpetually cold, and they didn’t even give her a coat. She had trained for so much, but she really hadn’t prepared for this at all. She trembled like a leaf, eyes darting over the whole room.
“She killed the Harbinger?” A guard passing by not so loudly whispered, and his partner had to silence him.
“Shhhh!”
Furina grimaced. Damn, she was a murderer. And she was cold as hell, she was really freezing her ass off. But she heard that same voice from before, that same voice that suddenly appeared during her fight with Crucabena.
“Furinaaaaaa!!”
“Ugh, what?! Can’t you see I’m freezing?”
“Be not nervous. Be not afraid. Let me guide you out of here.”
She wasn’t sure if the cold had turned her delirious, but she was definitely sure that the chains had fallen off. She stood up with a huff, but noticed something strange. The figure looked like her but with long hair.
It simply giggled, and led her out of the cell. And thus, she began to walk, and walk, and walk.
“But I’m still cold.” Furina pouted, crossing her arms. The figure laughed, taking off her own cloak.
“Oh, Furina. You truly are just like me.”
It draped the cloak over Furina’s shoulders, and they continued to walk. Until they reached a large door. The figure turned back to Furina, sighing a little fondly.
“I can no longer accompany you from here on. Good luck, Furina.”
Before the figure could leave, Furina called out. “W-wait!”
“Hm?”
“Who are you?”
“Ah. Well.” The figure laughed a little, but that giggle seemed to remind Furina of herself. This whole situation was so bizarre. “To put it simply… I am you.”
“What?!”
“But I must go now, Furina.” The figure dramatically sighed. “The people need me.”
And with that, it vanished, and Furina was left alone once again. With shaky hands, she pushed the door open, and three pairs of eyes (and a masked figure) met her gaze. Of course, she knew who they were.
“Her Majesty the Tsaritsa has decreed as follows. I hereby pardon your crimes, and bestow upon you a new name. This title and its legacy are now yours to bear… my poor, mad, cursed Knave.”
-
What a pitiful sight.
The blonde boy swayed from side to side. His languid movements were oh so pitiful, Furina thought. He stiffened when he saw Furina standing in front of him, a crafty smirk on her face. Things really never did change.
“You have faced such suffering… but alas! Allow me to unshackle you from your chains of loneliness, for it is I, after all! The 4th of the Fatui Harbingers… Arlecchino!”