It was another bright and beautiful day in Fontaine. The Great Lady Furina had just finished enjoying the latest play at the Opera Epiclese and had returned to her ever-loyal Palais Mermonia.
"Neuvillette!"
Furina swung open the doors to the Chief Justice's office and marched straight to his desk. "About that missing person case... is there still no news?"
"Lady Furina, I believe I mentioned I would inform you the moment there was a breakthrough," Neuvillette sighed, setting aside his documents. "Regrettably, the Marechaussee Phantom has yet to uncover any substantial leads."
"It's been years!" Furina's brow furrowed. "The culprit is still at large? They can't even find a single useful clue? Are the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol and the Marechaussee Phantom actually doing their jobs?"
"Regarding that... I believe Lady Furina should understand the 'why' better than I do," Neuvillette replied with a slow shake of his head.
It was obvious. The mastermind behind the most harrowing serial disappearances of the last twenty years was no ordinary individual. The investigation was fraught with obstacles; every time a lead was finally grasped, the criminal would vanish like a ghost before the authorities arrived.
The truth was cold: the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol, the Gardes, and even the internal systems of the Fontaine government were riddled with their informants. Evidence was erased; tips were leaked. They remained hidden so perfectly that they had become the very shadow of Fontaine itself.
"You know, Neuvillette," Furina began, her gaze dropping as her expression became unreadable. "After the performance today, I overheard two troupe members talking as I left the Opera House."
"Their director has vanished. The remaining members are at each other's throats, and the entire troupe is on the verge of collapsing."
"Another young woman has disappeared from the soil of Fontaine, and we... we can do nothing."
"You are the Hydro Archon," Neuvillette said. His eyes darkened slightly, though his expression remained a mask of professional calm. "I am merely the Chief Justice. My duty is to pass judgment based strictly on the evidence provided."
The implication was clear: You are the God of Fontaine. If you truly cannot stand this, then suppress it with your divine authority. In an age of gods, no matter how vast the shadows within a government might be, they were nothing compared to the absolute power of one of the Seven.
In Neuvillette's view, these shadows thrived precisely because Furina had gone far too long without asserting her authority. On the contrary, as the God of Justice, she had confined her influence almost entirely within the walls of the Opera House—a grand stage, but a tiny fraction of Fontaine.
It was a double-edged sword. Because the Archon never abused her power, Fontaine had enjoyed a century of peace and order. Yet, that very peace had allowed certain people to harbor ambitions they never should have had.
Legal judgment always required one thing: evidence. Without being caught red-handed, who could brand them a criminal? For an ordinary person, erasing all evidence was nearly impossible, but for those with wealth and status? The serial disappearances were the ultimate proof of their reach.
Neuvillette knew exactly where the problem lay. But he was the Chief Justice, and he was bound by the very laws he upheld. Against a web of interests woven from street thugs to mid-level Gardes and high-ranking officials, the "rigid" Hydro Dragon found his hands tied.
Normally, a healthy government would have its own self-correction mechanisms—the Marechaussee Phantom being one. But over the centuries, this web had grown so massive that even they were being thwarted at every turn.
Of course, Fontaine had one ultimate "correction mechanism" sitting right in front of him.
Neuvillette looked at Furina and sighed inwardly.
Furina, Furina... what exactly is your situation? You should have the power, the authority... so why is it that, in my eyes, you are no different from a mortal?
If he hadn't witnessed her longevity himself—knowing no mortal could live five hundred years so easily—he would have suspected she was an impostor.
I am bound to this seat by rules and regulations. If you, as the Hydro Archon, are dissatisfied with the status quo, why don't you change it?
You are one of the Seven. You are the Queen of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples, and Laws. The very legal foundation of this nation is built upon your existence. If you willed it, the shadows beneath the government would crumble instantly!
Why do they dare to congregate? Because you are too scrupulous! You haven't interfered with a single trial with divine power in centuries. But why do you just watch? Why do you come to me to complain?
Think! I cannot do this for you. For a descendant of the Dragons who once fought the Heavenly Principles to serve as Chief Justice is scandalous enough. If I were to purge the government from top to bottom... how would the other Archons perceive that?
They would think he had usurped her. And if they looked closer and realized the Hydro Archon had no power to speak of... they would be certain the Dragon had staged a coup.
Though the other nations likely didn't know his true identity yet, secrets never stayed buried forever. He could not take that step.
But Furina was suffering in silence, too. She had her own grievances. I should do it? Do I even have the ability?
She looked at the other Archons—they were monsters of combat who could flatten their own lands if they went rogue. They could suppress anything with raw power.
And me? For five hundred years... do you know how I've lived? I wake up every day trembling with fear! Terrified that my status as a fake will be exposed!
If I actually had divine power, would I let these small-time villains run wild? I don't even have a Vision!!!
Maintaining a five-century lie with nothing but a mortal mind was her absolute limit. Now, with the prophecy looming, Furina desperately wanted Fontaine to remain unchanged and peaceful until she could reach the future promised by her "other self."
A bold, sweeping reform? Perhaps she would have tried centuries ago. But now? If an incident occurred that required divine power to settle and she had nothing to show... the whole act would collapse.
In short, the Fontaine government had developed a "bug."
Because Furina needed an excuse for not using her power, she had adopted an attitude of "trapping her authority in a cage" to symbolize her pursuit of pure justice. This led people to believe she simply wouldn't interfere, giving them the opening they needed.
In the shadows where the law couldn't reach, they wove their web. Later, when a traveler would eventually arrive in Fontaine to handle Lyney's case, even the Garde officer presenting the case before the Chief Justice and the Archon would be one of them.
Neuvillette had the strength but not the position; Furina had the position but not the strength.
Everything Furina had built over five hundred years was a tower of cards built on a lie. Now, the bitter fruit of that lie was ripening. If she were a "normal" god—like the domineering Raiden Shogun—this never would have happened.
"Oh no! This is bad!"
Suddenly, a frantic figure slammed open the doors to Neuvillette's office, shouting breathlessly.
"Monsieur Neuvillette! Lady Furina! She... she... eh?"