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“... and now I will reveal the verdict of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale.”
Neuvillette’s voice filled the air, heavy as it was with all the built-up anticipation. I couldn’t take my eyes away. How would this political intrigue unfold today? Of course, I had my pet theory of what had happened, and I’m sure the same was true for the Ludex of Fontaine.
But that didn’t make it any less exciting.
It’s not just about the verdict! It’s the anticipation of the people and my own. It’s the games being played, the roles being represented, and my country taking a turn to whatever new direction. No one could predict it before the trial.
The future is uncertain, and that’s thrilling.
“Guilty!”
The public cheered after taking clear sides. I thought the young man was innocent, and I had no reason to trust the accuser with the convoluted story of how it all went down.
“Ahem…” I said, propping myself up on my feet, my chest full. “All that story proved to be true, and so the weak and indefensible deflection has drowned itself in its own lies!”
After doing this for centuries I was probably the best orator in all of Fontaine. The entire public’s ovation reached my ears as I finished. And still, my speech wasn’t long. How could it be? I was put on the spot, trying not to get cornered in a web of lies.
So far, the mask has never fallen off. And I’ve only gotten better at public speaking, and better at trials.
The heated atmosphere made me feel good and gave me purpose. The trial sessions were my joy and pride, and it was easy to spend entire weeks at a time completely absorbed in them.
These were the thoughts I had in my head as I walked out of the courtroom, headed to meet Neuvillette.
The bright lights were left behind, and the hallway dimmed with each step. The voices settled down, and their echoes were more distant now. My voice inside my head was louder, my heart thrumming from something.
I stood still beside a dark wooden door, almost completely covered in the shadow. Footsteps came from afar, but no louder than my heart beating in my chest.
“Why?”
I said, grasping at the high collar of my clothes.
Not ‘why’, but rather… What?
Something got stuck in my throat. A powerful wave rose from my knees to my fingertips. Painful shivers clouded my senses.
The wall was cold, and I could feel it through the many layers I wore when I leaned against it as I covered my face with my hands.
“Why…”
I tried to say, but my lips twisted against my will, and my throat killed my voice before it came out.
Why am I doing this all? This spectacle, this elaborate lie. The idea that I was building a future as a leader was never more than some play pretend while I ignored the prophecy.
Who am I doing this for?
What do I have outside of that room if not a glasshouse built on a foundation of lies?
The overwhelming anger at myself bested my knees and I fell. My weight slid slowly against the door. I pulled my knees together.
There I was in the dark corner, small, curled up. The world in front of me was ever so distant, blurred by my tears.
Every public appearance was a new opportunity for it all to come crashing down. For the glass to catastrophically shatter. Even though it was still standing somehow, I might as well already be scarred from the glass falling on top of me.
At least my heart was.
And not since today or the year before. For centuries.
When will this all end? Where is the exit of this ridiculous maze?
The pain followed with a metallic taste on my lips, and I pressed my nails against my knees trying to quell one pain with another.
What’s the point of looking for the exit, anyway? The realization broke a dam within me and I couldn’t stop sobbing.
Maybe I’m not the leading star – Maybe I’m the comedic relief. Yes, that sounds more fitting: the world burns and crashes around me as I stand in the center, and everyone else points fingers at me: ‘Look at her, everyone! The… Archon.’
And they would be right! Because it all will be my fault; because I never found a way to stop the tragedy.
Because I’m a fraud.
A fraud.
The echo of that word hurt more than my nails that now loosely hung from my knees, exhausted. On the other hand, my sobbing was making it harder to breathe. Just when I thought I could open my teary, blurred eyes, the glimpse of the frilly sleeves now rubbing against my cheeks reminded me of it once more.
Fraud.
My attention was diverted by the only hope I had of getting out of this loop when slow but confident heels echoed from distant walls. The heavy steps could be only Neuvillette’s.
He couldn’t see me this way. Cornered like a wild critter far from home. One that needed reassurance, and the warmth of a safe nest.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Or so I thought for a split second, but my body betrayed my intentions and sunk them into the depths.
So I ran.
Reaching for the outside world through a secondary door in the backrooms used by the personnel, I ran.
“Lady Fu-”
I puffed my chest with the flick of a switch, a façade that I couldn’t so easily pretend wasn’t part of myself.
“I wonder what the vicinity of Meropide looks like!”
The young guard corrected his posture and opened the door for me. I dove outside, the blinding sun warming my skin. When the door closed behind me, I ran again.
The overwhelming sound of the ocean waters was, at the very least, soothing. It was louder than my thoughts but just as chaotic.
I kept running, fruitlessly hoping to get somewhere. Foolish me soon realized that I’d barely gotten anywhere – in a place so huge, where could I hope to go with my little steps?
Just look at me. I could very well be in that stupid spotlight right now but on the opposite of not having a single person looking at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. Well played, life.
“Hello!”
A high-pitched voice reached me. I had no idea how… Veleda…? Was her name. How did she sneak up on me?
“Lady Furina, can I be of any help? I’m in the middle of my patrol, and didn’t expect to meet you!”
I turned to see her puzzled, and the little creature froze in place, startled.
“Tell me, Veleda, what would you do if one day your job was to forever watch over this wall, and every day was nothing but pretending it had a meaning despite nothing ever happening?”
She raised her Melusine hand to her tilted chin.
“I would still believe that one day would be eventful. For example, like the rare opportunity of seeing my Archon crying, and her eyes asking for help.”
“W-w-what are you t-t-talking about? Someone of my grandiosity would never cry in the way you’re implying!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.”
She reached her little hand up to me, but it barely reached my waist.
“Hm?”
“It’s okay, Lady Furina. Everyone needs head pats every once in a while. Living surrounded by bureaucracy and dealing with Meriopode affairs takes a toll on every one of us!”
I tentatively lowered my head, but it still wasn’t low enough for her, who was now attempting little jumps in place to reach for my head. She did, eventually.
“Consider this a gift, you see? A break from work, yes.”
“If I can have a break from work, that just means we can sit down together.”
The Melusine started skipping to a nearby spot. What were I supposed to do? What if someone saw us here? Or if she went around gossiping about this.
“Come, Lady Furina.”
“Y-yes, of course.”
She sat down on the edge, with her legs hanging. The fall was several dozens of meters, but she wasn’t scared. Neither was I, of course, but that’s for a different reason.
She tapped the ground beside her.
“Sit with me.”
I did just that, and she reached for my head again.
I didn’t say a word, and neither did she for several minutes. I was still thinking back to the trial, having flashbacks of the empty and dark hallways, and running from it all.
Every time her little hand brushed my hair, I felt a little bit of the pain and anxiety being washed away with it. After a few more moments of silence, punctuated only by the waves and the soft pats, Veleda spoke again, her voice gentle.
"See? Head pats help everyone."
I didn't trust myself to speak much, afraid my voice would crack again. I managed a small, almost imperceptible nod against her hand.
Her reply, her act, her initiative… She was kind, genuinely kind. But it was temporary. Soon, Veleda would return to her patrol, and I would have to swallow this turmoil, put my mask back on, firmly in place… And return to my stage.
The prophecy wouldn't wait. The act wouldn't end.
I drew in a shaky breath against the warmth of her soft touch on my scalp in hopes that if I could afford something else to be without end, this would be it.
“Thank you.”
My whisper might not have reached Veleda’s humming, but it still felt like it did. Just like the pleas behind my mask might appear like they’re not reaching far, I still wanted Fontaine to feel like their Archon would be there for them. Should the end of times try to sink the memories to the bottom of the ocean, I will make sure the memory lives on.