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Un.
Deux.
Trois.
Dancing was never a requisite of a perfected archon. Yet, it comes to her as effortlessly as breathing–a gift she had never sought, but was nevertheless bestowed. It is a clear reflection of her life, as though the hydro archon herself had guided each step long before she ever took it.
Furina tilts her chin towards the night sky, her gaze finding the moon. Its argent glow settles within her eyes, transforming them into tranquil pools that cradle the night’s reflection. She extends a slender hand, her fingers unfurling like the petals of a flower awakening under the moonlight.
Beneath the moonlit sky, she begins to dance.
Each measured pause is as purposeful as the tide before it rolls, while every graceful motion breathes new life into the silence—a wordless sonata composed of three deliberate beats, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next.
Every turn is immaculate, every step perfectly timed, as though she is not merely dancing in silence, but answering to a melody from the faraway sea that only she can hear.
It’s an oscillation between balance and surrender, a tug between power and submission, a play between the divinity and the hopeless.
Her feet are as light as a feather while her twirls are as graceful as a swan. The soles of her feet remain untouched by the surface of the lake, a dance floor which exists solely for her.
As the dance comes to a grand end, Furina catches her breath, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A drop of sweat trickles down her chin and forms a small ripple on the still body of water.
Time and time again, she feels a faint reminiscence of this unspeakable dance.
As a pacifist, she had not had the chance to use her vision for much, aside from these small secret outings.
Furina lifts up her hand and gazes as the power of hydro dances on the palm of her hand. This power of hers seems too good to be true, so is her talent for acting and dancing. She curls her fingers into her palms and purses her lips.
Did she have a knack for these things too…?
As hundreds of years have passed, it becomes harder to tell if anything of hers is even her own.
Furina’s strength gives way beneath her. She crumbles to her knees, as though the strings that had held her upright for centuries had finally been severed. Tears gather in her crystal-blue eyes before spilling down her cheeks, one after another, impossible to restrain.
What is she to do now that the act is over?
That agonizing and never-ending role which she had performed for five hundred years had become the very shape of her essence and existence. Those endless days of deception, of smiling through despair and bearing the weight of a god she could never truly become, had carved away the woman she once was until only the performance remained.
And now, with her purpose fulfilled, the curtain had gracefully fallen.
Ironically, what remained of her is still not an archon, nor the woman who had once innocently dreamed beneath Fontaine’s skies, but a hollow shell left drifting in the wake of destiny that no longer has a need for her.
“Furina, my dear…”
A voice arrives as little more than a whisper, so gentle and clear that for a fleeting moment, Furina mistakes it for the echo of her own heart. Yet she could not mistake that warmth anywhere else. It is the same tenderness that had embraced her on the day they first met.
“Never forget this, my dear–you have always been perfect, exactly as you are.”
Furina sinks to the water’s edge, fingers trembling as she brushes the glass-like surface. Ripples blossom beneath her touch, distorting the familiar reflection she so desperately reaches for, as though she could hold onto the fading image by sheer will and hope alone.
“Mirror-me,” Furina chokes out between ragged sobs. “Please, don’t leave me. I’m so lonely.”
A quiet laugh tinged with bittersweet affection riffles across the water.
“Still calling me by that adorable nickname, I see,” The fragmented divinity smiles, her expression carrying neither reproach nor sorrow, only fond amusement. “Surely you know who I truly am by now.”
Furina lowers her gaze, and her voice softens to scarcely more than a whisper.
“You are the divinity between the two of us, the true Hydro archon.”
Focalors says nothing, yet the silence itself feels like the gentle shake of her head.
“No, I am but an echo born from your soul–one that will soon fade into the currents of time.”
Her smile lingers, serene despite her inevitability.
“Though my final wish has been fulfilled, I do harbor one regret.”
Her azure eyes meet Furina’s through the trembling water, filled not with divinity but with boundless affection.
“When I am gone, I hope you will discover a purpose that belongs to no one but yourself, my dear.”
Furina purses her lips tightly, and through her quivering lips, she finally musters a faint smile.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
She lowers herself onto the crystalline waters, its flawless surface yielding only enough to cradle her as she embraces the reflection beneath. It is a futile attempt, one that can never truly bridge the distance between them, yet she clings to it all the same.
Focalors closes her eyes, a faint and tranquil smile blooming upon her lips as though she has surrendered herself to the gentle current of fate. Furina draws a quiet breath, and despite the tears still glistening upon her cheeks, she mirrors her smile in earnest.
In that fleeting moment, their expressions become one.
Oh. How fortunate she had been.
Furina thinks.
To have lived her life so wholly, unconditionally loved by one so close and dear to her.