Layla let out a pitiful noise as she allowed Furina to help her up. The poor woman mumbled out apologies as she stood up. She smiled a little, looking at the three cats in front of her.
Three?
[ROLL: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 1 â Result: Blue skin, brown filling, O & Shades and a band-aid. No special mutation]
The third edible feline who walked up to Layla looked kinda like her. Maybe. If you squinted, anyways, and if she were maybe 20% cooler. She awkwardly picked it up in her hands.
"D- Does this cat look like me...?" Layla asked. Immediately she cringed. Why would you say that? If she weren't holding a cat, she'd have buried her face in her hands and groaned at her comment.
"I don't mind either hallway..." Layla said, trying to distract from her social blunder.
"Then to the right we shall go! May all edible cats run into our arms." Furina announced with a giggle "Come on!"
The actress led them into another sterile and clean hall with the grace of a ballerina on a stage made for them. "You know, I'm pretty well versed in cats. They-" She paused. They go meow? And like fish she thinks. "Uh. Meow." She internally facepalmed.
orange skin, brown filling, mustache, normal eyes, flower, no special mutation. 5 points
A smaller meow came from a broken container nearby. "See!" She perked up. "Furina de Fontaine is never wrong!" Furina giggled and picked the cat up.
"You know who to go to, don't you? Such a cute one."
Mm. An adjustment that takes time more than anything, Clorindeâs address of her former Archon cutting short. The clearing of her throat follows and her tensed shoulders relax slightlyâ here, in the wake of Fontaineâs near-destruction⊠they are no longer knight and liege. It makes no change to the respect that the Duelist holds for the other, but there is something cherished in the walls that no longer have to be constructed between them.
â⊠Miss Furina.â A slight dip of her head is meant in greeting, not burdened with the formality of a proper bow. âHave you been well? I apologize for my scarcity as of lateâ it seems my duties have begun to carry me to places far outside the scope of the Palais.â Maybe a younger version of herself would be disgruntled, butâŠ
âIf you are not busy, I have a proposition for you.â
The slip up brings a smile to her face. The name held so much pain, pain that kept her from sleep and haunted her waking moments. But when it caused the ever so stoic Clorinde to slip? Perhaps it held more than pain.
"A proposition? Usually I'm the one to say such a thing." Furina giggles at the memories of the, quite frankly, silly things she had asked of the woman before her. Just as she did those which held the title before.
"However you are a fr-" The word threatened to slip from her lips like the very water that used to flow through her. It still felt weird to say. Friend. Could she ever truly use that word? Would she feel worthy of being a friend? Focalors didn't have friends. Why should Furina, even now?
"You are a frankly close person to me." She spoke after a cough. Not the best save but when was she ever the best at anything? "Such a close person that I will hear you out."
Layla had no idea what Caelus asked her to, besides that she was apparently looking for... something in a supply zone and, more alarmingly, she was paired with Furina.
The Hydro Archon.
Ever since reading the text message, she hadn't been able to process anything happening. What supply zone was she even supposed to go to? It'd be too humiliating to ask now!
Breathe. Just reread the text message. A thought crossed her mind. It didn't seem like Layla, but definitely was her (because it was happening in her mind after all, and of course, thoughts in her mind had to be her- there was no time for her to think about this!). Fumbling her phone through her sweaty palms, she looked at the text message. Okay.
Okay.
Supply Zone F2. The unathletic woman ran as quick as she could to where she'd meet Furina â oh Archons, she didn't keep her waiting, right?!
As she got to the supply zone, she ran into what she was looking for. More like tripped over, actually.
[ROLL: 3, 5, 5, 1, 10, 1 â Gray skin, Orange filling, Mustache, Default eyes, Clover, No special mutation]
Layla lay on the ground from her embarrassing fall and lifted her head. Her eyes met the strange creature's â was this a cat cake? It looked like it was judging her life choices.
"Why do you have a mustache...?" Layla mumbled, still feeling like her thoughts were jostled from her fall.
Furina looked down at the girl who fell, quite literally, to her knees in front of her. Despite herself, she extended a hand. "Miss," She checked the "phone" she had purchased for the occasion.
"Layla. Miss Layla, if we wish to catch these 'cat cakes', we need to not rush. Cats and, by extension I assume, their edible brothers and sisters, will run off if we do such a thing." It was one of few things she knew well. Her little encounter with Arlechinno all that time ago had proven that. Cats, much like the former Archon, were skittish.
Rolls : 2, 2, 5, 1, 3, 1. Result: Purple skin, brown filling, mustache, default eyes, and a ribbon. No special mutation.
She looked towards the cat cake she had picked up moments before Layla's fall. "Well, at least we found your sibling, hm?" The creature gave a meow in response. At least edible cats were as cute as real ones.
"Are you a more left or right person, Miss Layla? Which hallway would you prefer?"
It's with a heavy heart I announce Kaveh's rest. I've wrote him for a while, and I've enjoyed it. I still do. But how I see Kaveh and how I would portray him have drastically changed him and it's just not something I wish to bring to the established setting I have.
I do have in depth plans for a multi muse, of which I will add its user somewhere on both @fall3nstar and @little-oceanid whenever I get around to getting it up.
Regardless, I'll probably give this blog around 24 hours (roughly) to stick around so everyone can save what they want and I can get rid of the random tracking and all the stuff I had.
P.S Lumine and Furina are still staying, even though I havent wrote in.... a while.
âHelp us out in the infirmary.â Her brother spoke, nervous to ask the former actress for such a task. âPlease Furina? You never participate in Capture the Flag anyways. And you know how busy we get.â
She shuddered to think of the last time she entered the warzone other campers called a game. Her manicure would never recover. Well, it had recovered. But itâs the principle!
âOliver⊠Must I?â
The small redhead picked at a stray thread on the hideous camp shirt he wore. Orange didnât look good on anyone, itâs just a fact. âW-Well no. But I was going to reward you with a snack cake for the trouble.â
And that was how Furina ended up here, messing with a couple cotton swabs while her siblings talked about⊠something. She stopped listening ages ago. Sigh. The whole thing was just so boring⊠Couldnât they stand to have a little color in the infirmary?
Furina rolled her eyes as the infirmary door opened. She expected another Ares kid upset they were here for a stab wound, yet that was no such case. The woman who stood there looked calm and uninjured. Her fatherâs light almost seemed to shy away from her. In the back of her mind, she felt as if she had seen the composed woman before. Perhaps during the many shows her mo- Focalors forced her to perform. There were so many faces in the crowds then. All begging for a child to gaze upon them.
She shook the thought away, standing up. âUm. We really ask the infirmary to be only for the injured today. Do you, like, have an injury?â Heterochromic eyes looked her up and down. No visible injuries. So either this girl was a weirdo or this whole infirmary was about to run out of ambrosia. Furina was leaning towards weirdo though. âBecause if you donât,â She continued âWe kinda need to keep the space for those who are.â
You arrive already reading the room. Who needs reassurance. Who expects competence. Who is quietly hoping youâll fill a gap they wonât name. You adapt instinctively, almost reflexively - sliding into whatâs required before anyone asks. People feel understood by you. Seen. Held. Sometimes too quickly. They mistake your attunement for availability, your flexibility for obligation. The work here is remembering that you are allowed to enter without performing. That your presence does not have to be useful to be valid.
Colors: Soft beige, pale blue, overcast light
Scene: Adjusting yourself mid-conversation, then pausing, wondering when you last checked in with what you wanted.
My story has already come to an end, and so the next act shall be about OUR story...
Hello everyone, it's your resident angst lover Theo. As we all know, our lovely Gnostic Hymns is closing. And with that comes some major changes, both to my muses and how I'll proceed with them.
Kaveh: He will be staying just on a much less limited thread count. He most likely will not receive any new threads for a while, minus a few aus i want him in. However, I'm opening him to short form interactions, both from indies and gh. Feel free to send him an ask.
Lumine: She will be operating as normal. I'll write her as normal and be opening her to threads from all parties. She is also going to accept asks.
Furina: Also normal operations. Same stuff as Lumine.
In General
My muses are going to keep the same structure from gh but with more indie type posts until I so decide to leave them. Please keep in mind my replies may be slower from now on without the motivation of a structured group setting.
What's Next?
I have a PJO au plotting coming from Lumine's blog just after this post. I've had it planned for a while so it will be continuing as normal. As for any current threads, feel free to message one of my muse blogs or my discord (moons.embrace) if you wish to check if we have threads or drop any. I myself will be reaching out and dwindling my thread count in the upcoming days.
And to the gh members that made rp worth doing again, thank you. Thank you to Teii, Snes, Vergil, Aktaia, Codon, and everyone that has ever been apart of gh. You've all shaped me in a way I can never repay. These 10 months have genuinely been some of the best in my entire life.
And of course, rest in peace to the muses that never made it here.
Castorice, the one who got me into gh. May the hands of Death never be cold again.
Sigewinne, the one I'll never forget. May all your patients leave you with a smile.
Seele Vollerei, the one I always considered picking back up. May you meet Veliona again and enjoy her time.
Senadina, the one that almost made it. May you both see Leylah and Dreamseeker again.
"...and so, as you can see from these notes, all eighteen known Paths interact with Imaginary Energy in observably differing ways. Therefore, there must exist a way to gather enough like-minded people to influence the Imaginary Energy of the universe in just the right way to create an entirely new Path," Loren summarizes, looking around at each other researcher in the lab in turn as she gestures to a series of charts displayed on the monitor behind her. "That should about cover all the findings presented in these papers. Miss Acheron, a question, if I may - we've heard many reports of individuals or organizations seeking to influence or recreate existing Paths, but you've encountered such things firsthand, yes?"
"Yes - most notably, the Dreammaster of Penacony, and the Doctors of Chaos," Acheron answers smoothly, pacing back and forth. "The Dreammaster, as you know, was responsible for the recent attempt to revive the Path of Order, usurping the power of an Emanator of Harmony and using the remnants of the Propagation to inspire sufficient fear and desperation among the population of the Asdana System to catalyze Ena's rebirth. As for the Doctors of Chaos..."
She thinks of her own time among the shadowy organization, of the medicine they'd attempted to use to reverse Nihility's effects. It hadn't worked, but nonetheless, she remains glad that they're trying, that they've stared into the abyss of Nihility and declared that all is not meaningless. "They give aid to Self-Annihilators, and seek to prove the meaning of existence to IX. They are a rare phenomenon - those who have gazed into Nihility and been able to resist despair."
"I still think the whole story about the Swarm in Penacony was just fake news to give the IPC an excuse to move a fleet in, though?" another researcher comments, and the group dissolves into a mass of arguing and theories. At the front of the room, Loren just sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.
Acheron lets them argue, and turns to talk to the only other person in the room who isn't part of Herta Station's staff, a young white-haired woman dressed in blue clothes in a style she almost recognizes from somewhere. "You've been quiet so far, is everything alright?"
Furina had sat through many meetings with Fontainian researchers, in most she could vaguely make sense of it. She had wandered into half as many areas she wasnât supposed to be, but she always acted her way out. But never had she acted her way into a meeting.
Thereâs a first time for everything! If only she understood what they were sayingâŠ
Paths? IPC? The poor actress felt like she was reading a sloppy script. She had tuned out practically the whole thing before a woman with much resemblance to the Electro Archon approached. Yet, her name did not fall out of her lips. Just where had that portal taken her? A world where she had never taken the stage? Or perhaps one of the other worlds the Traveler spoke of?
Furina cleared her throat, and her thoughts. âWhy of course everything is okay! I am nothing if not adaptable.â She straightened her back with pride. âMy, you mustn't have heard of my greatness.â She bowed, taking her hat off to hold to her heart. âIn front of you stands the lovely, excellent, beautiful, Furina de Fontaine. Please, no autographs.â
She stood up and perched her hat upon its rightful spot. âNow what do I owe the pleasure? Are you a researcher or an outsider much like myself?âÂ
âOh Archons please let me come across like I know what Iâm doing. Acting as a god was way easier than thisâŠâ
  To think that every action Cerydra has taken across millions of lifetimes would lead to her standing outside of an unfamiliar tavern, in an unfamiliar city, would be preposterous, especially to the average Okheman that lived under the Imperatorâs rule. Yet Cerydra stands outside the Catâs Tail, trying to peer into the establishment to gain a glimpse of the kittens that purred like a low engineâs roar.Â
  The glimpses she caught of the cats roaming, and the people partaking in some sort of unfamiliar merriment (âwhat manner of game are they playingâŠ?â) made Cerydraâs gaze sharpen. She wouldnât say it out loud, regardless of her not being in Mondstadt with anyone who would care, but the Imperator desperately wanted to enter the tavern.Â
  She just didnât know what to say, who to talk to, what to do. For someone so outgoing, she was stunned in the face of such an unfamiliar environment.Â
  Passersby mutter, questioning the Imperatorâs curious stare. Some wonder if sheâs lost, or simply unfamiliar with Mondstadt - âMaybe sheâs not from here?â, some muse aloud â but none so much as interrupt the intimidating individualâs gaze into the Catâs Tail. None, other than the individual herself, of course.
  Cerydra shakes her head, âstanding out here will do me naught but stir further curiosity.â Turning around, perhaps too quickly, or without paying much attention (rather uncharacteristically at that), the Imperator bumps into another. âTch!â She stumbles back, readjusting her crown before getting a good look at the presence before her. âMy apologies. It appears as though I wasnât paying attentionâŠâ Allowing herself a closer look at the person, Cerydra takes a mental note of their shared visage. âHow peculiarâŠâ To see someone with a resemblance much akin to her own, and so very far away from Amphoreous as wellâŠÂ âAre you also going to enter the Catâs Tail? If so, may I walk in alongside youâŠ?â
@little-oceanid cerydra vc: why do you look like me i'm me
Mondstadt had always been a nation Furina considered running away to in her earlier years as Archon. A nation where Freedom was the ideal and they rarely faced large hardship was practically a fever dream. Nothing like Fontaine, no. She had barely even gotten glances when she stepped past the city walls. As much as she loved the peopleâs affection, it was nice. Even if Fontaine treated her as Furina, they still held the bias of Focalors.
The land that ever so eagerly blew its winds through her long, at least for now, hair. She was hoping to relax so why not let her hair down? Or out rather.
The city was small but Furina loved it nonetheless. It had a charm, almost like âRomance dans une petite villeâ. Her ears picked up something about a âGenius Invocation TCGâ while she looked at the open stalls. She had obviously heard about the game. She had a card in it afterall. But it had been a while since she played.
Furina was barely a few steps away from the Catâs Tail when she bumped into someone almost eerily similar to her. She took a few moments to look her over, ensuring her reflection had not returned after all these years. But no. Nothing. The two were similar, but not enough for the actress to worry. Although that flaming crown did interest her. Truly what a prop.
âI was indeed going to enter the Catâs Tail, yes! When one wishes to engage in a duel of cards, why not go to its hub? And I, Furina de Fontaine, shall be your escort into such an establishment.â Furina held out her left hand. When it was taken, she gently led her companion inside. And of course she held open the door for her. She is a lady after all!
âHm. Itâs a little⊠small, no? If this place was so popular, surely they could use an expansion.â She sighed, shaking her head. âWe will not let this bring us down. We shall have your best table!â She announced to the room. Upon receiving no reply, she slumped a little. âI said we shall have your best table!!â Nothing.
âFine.â She huffed. âWe shall seat ourselves Mademoiselle Not-Me.â WIthout an inch of room for protest, she led her lookalike to a windowside table. âI suppose not everywhere is like Fontaine. But not even an acknowledgement! I didn't want to be stared at, not ignored!â Furina sighed once again.
âAnd what about you, my lovely lookalike? What brings you to Freedomâs land?â
By now, Neuvillette had learned to at least notice the unrelenting, ever curious looks thrown towards him from all directions as he walked down the street on a (somewhat forced) casual stroll. As always, however, he continued to ignore them, struggling as ever to comprehend just what special meaning it could have for the people to see him out and about. Was it truly such a rare and peculiar occurrence? It had only been a few,
... he frowned briefly to himself as he suddenly found himself forced to make calculations in his mind.
... months?
... Alright, so maybe a little longer than he had originally thought, then, but, still... not all that long. As far as he was concerned, anyway. Then again, the fourteen hours he worked without a break was also not long for his standards - he had all the time in the world, after all. Sedene was certainly not interested in hearing that, though, and he was not about to upset his daughter. So, there he was.
The sun was set perfectly high in the sky, just past its peak but still bright enough to warm. It was perfect for Furinaâs weekly cafe outing. Daily slices of cake and perfectly made tea was such a hard thing to put down, but one could not claim freedom and still use the money of the people! No, no. She had set out to write her own story⊠at the cost of her favorite sweets.
She just barely took the first bite when her eyes met with an ever so familiar pair. Eyes that even she sometimes felt nervous looking into. Neuvillette. She almost thought she was seeing things. He had to be dragged out of the office most times. Yet here he stood, looking at Furina the same way she was looking at him. Quickly, she sat up straight and wiped a stray crumb from her lips.
The cake would just have to wait.
She almost wanted to giggle at the stiffness of his words. âI cannot believe my eyes! Fontaineâs Iudex, out of his office? I might faint!â She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic manner.
Taking said hand off her face, she adjusted her hat. âAlthough I must say Iâm disappointed you didnât notify me of your day off. I would have bought you a glass of water to enjoy with me.â She sighed. âAnother day perhaps. Regardless, what are you doing out of the office? I don't see a melusine with you. A pressing matter or did you finally realize that you need breaks like the rest of us?â Furina knew as well as anyone that Neuvillette would rarely, if ever, take a break on his own. But a little joke wouldnât hurt, no?
âAh! I canât believe I didnât ask if you wanted anything to eat! No, no. I insist you eat! Would you like a baguette or perhaps some cake? Their cake here is to die for. But again, isnât all cake?â Furina giggled at her own words.
Itâs nice, she thought, being able to speak to him like this again. Maybe I should drag him to one of my shows soonâŠ
Life since Furina stepped down from her stage had been so painfully boring. The freedom was nice, yes. But she missed her tea parties! The Salon Solitaire were the best guests she could ask for.
Although...
"I must thank you for joining me Mademoiselle Lynette! I bought the finest teas for today, a beautiful import from Chenyu Vale." Furina set the teacups on the table in her apartment, purposely cleaned extra hard for the occasion. "Ah! Have you ever been? I was even able to drag the dear Iudex onto a trip there, if that speaks for its excellence."
Surintendante Chevalmarin pushed the teapot Furina had almost neglected closer to the former actress. "Why thank you my dear friend!" She gave it a small headpat and poured both her and Lynette some tea.
"I have sugar of course. I much prefer it sweet but people have different tastes. That is so interesting don't you think?" Furina hummed and put 2 sugar cubes in her drink. "500 years as Archon and I never quite realized. Did you know that there's a merchant who takes not Mora, but fish?! What monetary purpose a gross fish has is beyond me." She leaned in close as if she thought anyone could hear the duo in her apartment. (No one could. She just wanted a dramatic flare) "I don't mean to judge but truly, it is odd."
Furina went back to sitting properly in her chair with a loud dramatic sigh. "And what about you, Mademoiselle? Any odd persons you can think of?"
âHearing is believing, music is deceiving; Hard as lightning, soft as candlelightâŠÂ Dare you trust the music of the night?â -Phantom of the Opera
Rarely was Furina one to do a play as large as this, a musical no less. She much preferred a smaller cast and crew. But when inspiration strikes, you go for it. Which led her to now. Sitting upon a box of fabric scraps she watched costumes be clipped and sewn into shape, carefully listening to her practicing singers. She had handpicked them, of course. Yet so much can go wrong, no?
Her heterochromatic eyes fell upon her lead. Red hair, glasses, clearly not from Teyvat. But she had blown Furina away with her voice. Not like there was much competition. Why do a musical of an opera if you can just perform in a normal one? It made her choices slim. Had the red outlander not showed up sheâd be going with some girl with a raspy voice.
It was beautiful. But not âChristineâ beautiful.
But a good director always finds a way!
And so Furina did. In the form of Tesla de âŠ. somewhere. Furina didnât ask where she came from. A good director could see the worth in anyone, no matter homeland.
Her heels clacked upon the floors as she approached the woman. A gloved hand takes her bare one, bringing it to her lips with a gentle kiss. âSay you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you'll want me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too.â Furina mutters her characterâs line into the crisp air of their practice space. It was unheard of on Teyvatâs theater scene for a woman to play The Phantom. But no one would ever question Furinaâs expertise.
Furina raised her head with a giggle. âSo, what did you think? Was my performance excellent? Do be honest. Weâll be on Fontaineâs biggest stage after all, Mademoiselle Tesla. We canât afford a lackluster performance.â The group was lucky an opera singer had fallen sick and had to cancel. Even if their prep time was cut short.
âHear that everyone? We have to put on a total showstopper! Let the people look in awe at how we turned such a group into the best play Teyvat has ever seen!â The director stepped onto the box she previously sat upon, hands on her hips. âEven if Fontaine is known for its opera, weâre going to set a new standard! Together, all of us!â
Furina extended a hand to her lead. âMy dearest Christine, would you join me upon this stage?â
Warning this is long. Almost 2k words to be exact. Either way, have fun! Because I surely did.
âAnd only the Hydro Archon will remain, weeping on her throne.â
Furina bolted from her bed. No. This wasnât her bed. This wasnât her apartment. This was-
âThe Palais Mermonia.â A familiar voice finished. Her mirror-me.
âWhat am I doing here? I- Iâm not the archon anymore.â The oceanid whispered into the room. She turned to her mirror, or where it should have been. Yet, all that stood in its spot was a basin of primordial water. The very one that had been used to prove her humanity.
âIs that what you thought?â Her mirror-me asked, âThat your act would ever end? No, my dearest Furina. I still need you. I will always need you. So get dressed, you have a long day ahead of you.â
Furina looked down at her shaking hands. This couldnât be. Fontaine was saved, Neuvilette had the Hydro Authority. So why was she still here? Was this a punishment for fooling the Heavenly Principles? Making her live out her worst days? No. They wouldnât.
Would they?
Just like the many previous days, her hat was perfectly fixed and her coat neatly buttoned. For she was Fontaineâs Archon, and their God would not be messy. A gloved hand pushed open her bedroom door, taking on a faux smile. âGood morning my wonderful people! Rejoice! For your Lady Furina has arrived!â The maids in the immediate area clapped, speaking their praises for their Archon. âYes, yes. I am wonderful, I know. Please, continue your hard work!â Even as she left the room, their praise followed her.
As did their eyes.
âThey seem to think highly of you.â Her mirror-me spoke as she passed a window.Â
âWell of course! I am positively great after all!â
Furinaâs words were met with a disinterested hum. Had she already made her reflection disappointed? No. She couldnât have. She was always so-
âYou think very loudly, my dear Furina.â
â..what?â
Her mirror-me took on a soft smile. âYour thoughts, I can practically read them off your face.â
Furinaâs shoulders slumped in the empty hallway. âOh.â
âIâm not disappointed. But based upon that look, you seem to be disappointed yourself. Tell me, Furina, are you happy living the way you do?â
The little oceanid was taken aback. In this odd state she was taken to, no. She hated having to relive her worst days. The days when no one saw Furina, but Focalors. They looked at her as their God, the Hydro Archon. The one who could save them from the prophecy. Everyday she forced a smile upon her face and stepped into the large shoes she was made to fill. She had to. For her people.
But now. After her trial, after the prophecy had failed to come true, she couldnât be happier. She was helping others not because she was forced, but because she chose it. It was⊠freeing. She remembered her first few days of freedom being so, odd. She could go anywhere at any time. No schedule to hold her back. No responsibilities. Nothing but her and the sea she used to call home.Â
She had almost wanted to spend the rest of the week under the waves, allowing the familiar cold to embrace its sister once more. Yet, she was no longer immortal. She had to eat. But of course, the sea would not let her part without a gift. Hence the carefully stored pink shelf in her room back home.
Furina turned her gaze back to her reflection. âDespite everything. Despite the role you gave me that weighed on my shoulders. Despite the peopleâs eyes following me into the farthest recesses of my mind. Despite all of it, I am happy. My people were freed from the shackles of their sins, and I from my eternal stage. So yes, mirror-me, I am happy.â She spoke with courage and conviction. Never had she spoken to much of anyone in such a way. Much less the reflection that seemed to haunt her even here.
The woman reflected in the window smiled, her hands coming to clasp in front of her. âYou are very brave, Furina. I would expect nothing less of you.â
She knew that. It's what made every day waking up in the Palais Mermonia a physical pain. If she was not immortal for those years, she wouldn't be standing here to face her sins. After all, how can you bring yourself to live when the fate of everyone you know is death, and there is nothing you can do? She may have been their Archon, but she was still painfully mortal.
âGo. The people await their god.â Furinaâs reflection urged.
And so, just like days past, she stepped into Fontaineâs streets.
Yet, no one swarmed her. There were no reporters asking for articles or pictures, no melusines handing her gifts. No, they watched from afar. She chose to step up to a passerby.
âExcuse me Monsieur, but everyone seems quite quiet today. Was there a disaster I donât know of? Your Archon cannot know all if you donât tell her.â Her voice was loud, as always. But it trembled under the weight of unanswered questions. This was too tame to be a product of the Heavenly Principles. She felt pain, yes. But not as much as she would under their thumb.
âYou have failed us. You have failed us all. Our Archon is nothing more than a fraud. Is this how you wish to be remembered? Answer me, Furina!â
She didnât stay around to answer him. She ran. Past all her people, past her friends, she just ran. Not to anyone, not even to the home she wasnât sure would be in this nightmare. She just ran. Ran until her body was met with freezing waves. It was cold, colder than usual, but it was home.
As she sunk into the depths, she thought back on the man's question. For multiple lifetimes she had been nothing more than an actress upon Teyvatâs stage, playing as the Hydro Archon. But that was no more. She was finally free of those shackles. She was no longer Fontaineâs most beloved Archon, but their most beloved director.
When she stepped onto the stage again all those years ago, she had felt lost. She wasnât sure why she helped the troupe out, why she fought so hard to make their play work. But, she did. It was her first act of kindness as Furina, not as a god. And it had paved her reborn life. She had directed operas, musicals, plays, and all theatre acts under the sun. Each day was another piece of the Hydro Archon broken away, to be mended with a piece of Furina.
Her hand traced a stray kelp near the sea floor. The Hydro Archon would not run away at trouble. She would face it. But Furina had ran. Like a coward.
She didnât want to be remembered like a coward, no one would. But she knew Fontaineâs thoughts. Some thought her a coward, some an excellent actress, and some, those closest to her, saw the brave girl thrust into a spotlight much too bright for her. There were titles she liked, and those she didnât. Some were true, some were not. But when she returned to the sea, returned to her sisters, those would be the titles that followed her. That was what Fontaine would write in their history books. That is what they would remember.
Furinaâs body had finally reached the sandy sea floor. She didnât move, didnât get the dress of her skirt. She merely laid there, for once at peace in this nightmare.
âYou didnât make it very long.â Her mirror-me was kneeling next to her, her long hair flowing with each turn of the tide. âWhy is that? You have lived this day almost thousands of times. Why can you not live it once more?â
Furina sat up in the sand, her clothes disheveled from her running. âI can't, okay? I tried for hundreds of years to live as the god the people needed. I barely made it out. I finally get to live as a human and you make me serve as a god again?! The prophecy is over, the people are truly human. Iâm not strong enough for this, mirror-me! I never have been.â She was standing over the woman at this point.
âIâm an actress, not a soldier. Iâm a director, not a warrior. I am Furina, not the Hydro Archon. My people are safe. They are at peace. So am I. You cannot force an actress to wield a blade or make a director cut down a foe. And you canât make me live another day as a god.â Her voice broke, âPlease, mirror-me. I canât do it anymore. I want to go back.â
For a few moments, the woman did not speak or even react to Furinaâs pleas. Then she stood. The woman in the mirror had always looked so tall to Furina, so strong. But now, she could see that this woman was truly her reflection afterall. She was much more regal than Furina but they still had the same body. The same hair. Even the same eyes.
The woman took her hands into her own. âFurina. I asked so much of you, I know this. You know it was for the best, you knew the costs. And still you stepped onto the worldâs stage and put on an act to fool the best of men. Yet, you couldnât fool those closest to you. Is this why the prophecy never came to bloom? Weâll never know. But I do know this. Physically, you are weak. Neither of us can deny that. But mentally, you rival even the oldest Archons. Because I am your reflection, just like you are mine. I know the strength your mind can wield. And youâve proven that time and time again.â
Her reflection let go of her hands. âAnd now, itâs time to prove it again. Go, wake up. Make the world your stage once more. Not because itâs required, but because every play needs a star.â
Furina reached her hand out, reaching for her reflectionâs hand. Yet all she met was the familiar warmth of her blanket. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her apartment greeted her. The half eaten bowl of macaroni on her desk, a book she had heard about in the Steambird sitting on her nightstand, even the pink shell the baby otter had gifted her when she became mortal was still here.
She was home. Truly home.
A soft blue glow caught her eye in the morning light. Her vision. It had been on her desk last night, yet now it was on her nightstand. Maybe that dream made her sleepwalk. Even so, she took it in her hand. No longer did she feel the cold casing. Instead she felt comfort, almost a pat on the back for all her years of acting. It felt just like the day she received it.
That day she got dressed with a smile on her face. A real one this time.
Her hand lingered before attaching her vision. âMake the world your stage once more.â Furina repeated into the empty hair of her apartment. No longer was she an actress conformed to a directorâs whims. Today, and forever more, she was her own director. She would write her own story, call her own curtain.
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