A good Archon has the answers to everything.
A good Archon leads the nation to greatness.
A good Archon fights for their people.
A good Archon ensures happiness to their people.
A good Archon does not cry, only smiles.
Wisdom, stability, order, happiness and prosperity. Furina knew those words by heart. It was all she was supposed to be. It was everything she was not.
Furina did not have the answers to everything.
Furina did not lead her nation.
Furina could not defend her people.
Furina could not ensure their happiness.
Furina cried when, despite all her attempts, she could not reach those ideals.
And then Neuvillette would come and say: "Do not push yourself, every failure is a step towards success."
Why didn't he understand that she did not want to fail anymore? That every misstep, every wrong move, just demoralised more and more? She felt no progress, no step forward towards a grand realisation that would justify everything. It was a constant feeling of loss and pain that she could not take anymore. Nobody knew how she truly felt. Nobody cared either. She was alone against all, trying to save Fontaine from destruction.
It was at those times, when those feelings boiled over inside her body, that she had to do something or explode.
And it was on those awful nights when, if you listened intently, you could hear the mournful cry of a violin above the Palais Mermonia.
Playing the violin was not something that had come naturally. Music in general was something that did not particularly call to her. But the high class loved it and, as the Archon of Fontaine, she had to love it as well.
The friction of the strings, the bounce of the bow against the violin, the minute movements of her wrists and arms… The bow and the violin, two instruments working together with her two natures. The string raged. It cried. And yelled. And screeched. It was all she wanted to do. All she had to let out of her body. A chaotic tune of disgust and sorrow that resonated through Fontaine and beyond.
Stubborn? No! She was adamant, determined! She tried and tried because she wanted to succeed and save everyone. Yet, it didn't mean she tolerated failure even if it continuously happened! She wanted success, approval, love! That's what her song represented!
The bow bounced against the strings one last time, an out-of-tune scratch forcing Furina to stop. The vibrato was all wrong, her left hand wasn't moving properly to manage the pitch. Her right hand, controlling the bow, was applying too much force on the strings. Thus, the martelé, a type of technique that separated the bow from the violin rapidly to create a more explosive sound, was completely out of tune.
These were simple techniques, were they not? Could she not do even this?
In her anger, a wind gust stopped her from breaking the bow against the balcony railing.
"I just want to save you, why do you laugh at me!" She pointed with the bow against the city. "I am Focalors as well! I'm not just… Furina! I'm someone to be respected! Why do you surround me, yet I feel so alone?!"
Again, a sudden burst of wind crashed against her. This time, her hat fell to the ground. With both her hands full, one with the violin, another with the bow, she could not save it from being dirty. Immediately, Furina clicked her tongue and wondered what would be the best way to go about it.
Though…
Was there always so much wind on that balcony? She was quite certain that the east-facing balcony only had a faint breeze every night. It was her favourite spot.
It was yet another example of her horrible luck. Yes, she should just put down the violin and pick up her hat…
Another gust of wind stopped her, forcing her to cover her eyes. This time, Furina actually got angry.
"Who is it?! Don't mock my solitude!" She looked at her downed hat and then back at the city. "You want me to stop and give up, you doomed city?! Is that it?! Well, I'm not going to!"
Furina scrambled to ready the violin. As she secured the violin against her chin and moved her bow towards the strings, she paused. What was this sudden motivation? Spite? For whom? She didn't hate Fontaine, so why did she feel such anger?
She did not hate Fontaine. She wanted to save them. Everything… it was for them. And like that, it was for herself too.
Was she angry at herself, then?
The wind suddenly flowed upwards. Beckoned by it, she started on a high note. Then, connecting the notes, she started a long flow of notes. No gaps in between. Not hectic or chaotic anymore. Merely a calm, legato tune.
It was as if the wind understood the message in her music. It didn't thrash around anymore but accompanied her mournful song with a cool, tranquil breeze that whispered into her ears. The wind, boundless as it was, desired a tune as well. Perhaps, it too felt alone on the chilly nights of Fontaine. Perhaps, it too understood how Furina felt at the time.
Shapeless and invisible, that's how Fontaine described the wind. Fair and pure, that's how Fontaine described Furina. Yet, weren't they wrong? She was not like that. And if that was the case, weren't they wrong with the wind as well? The wind, who constantly tried to take form? As dancing dead leaves, waves of biting sand or streams of beautiful petals? The wind did not want to be hidden. It saw beauty in others and lifted them, so it could be appreciated by all.
"Water and wind are similar, but they are not the same. Both are formless and able to take any shape. But water is cursed to be bound to the ground, while you move wherever you want. But being grounded allows me to play much better music!" Furina said out loud, quite aware of how silly she was talking to nobody. "Rain has a beat. The sea has waves. What do you have? A whir? Barely even a tempo? Wind has no sound unless it hits something!"
There wasn't an answer. Of course, there wasn't. Was she stupid? The wind couldn't talk…
…Though just because it couldn't, it didn't mean it didn't want to.
Just like she said, rain has a beat. And the wind could carry rain, in waves and gusts. It definitely played a part in its music…
Tilting her head downwards, she noticed a small puddle on the balcony floor. She ceased her song, putting down her instruments and cusped the dirty water on her hands. It was not much. She wasn't quite sure why she did it either. Perhaps she was really going crazy, believing the wind to be sentient. Or perhaps, she had seen herself reflected in the poor, misunderstood wind.
"A whir is no good. All of Fontaine's water is pure but this… Ehem, this serene water is better since it came into contact with me. So take it, and play a tune as well. In Fontaine, do as the Fontainians!" The water was still, slowly dripping between her fingers. "Oh. I'm crazy. Obviously, I'm crazy, they are making me crazy! It's not me, it's them! Always with the Oh, Lady Furina is so~ peculiar! Peculiar! I'm not peculiar, I'm the ruler! I could drown you in a second! And I don't! But I could! Why are you forgetting that?!"
The water in her hands shifted, suddenly torn from her by a breeze that lifted little droplets into the air. Furina recoiled, realising that there really was something around, and dropped most of the water out of her hands. She was surprised, yes, but quickly regained her composure.
"Huh. Somehow, I preferred it when I thought I was mad…" She watched the wind take more and more droplets into a small, circular wind current. Even from the water she had dropped in fright. "Since you control the wind, you must be a little anemo spirit. You can't even maintain form, can you? You must have approached the strongest elemental source around which is… ME! THE GREAT FOCALORS! But, uh… uhh… Hydro energy can't… help anemo spirits. And Barbatos is not here. I can't help you."
Talking was a fool's errand. This feeble breeze had no way of talking.
"Well… Ever since the cataclysm, he's been gone. One step away from death, it seems. No wonder you don't want to approach him. I mean, Mondstadt does smell a bit weird. They probably don't have a law against public excretion. You should stay in Fontaine. Since I am the Hydro Archon, I may be able to nurse you back to health." Again, Furina sighed. "Right, you can't answer. I don't even know if you understand me…"
A droplet fell into the balcony railing. Then another two.
"What? Losing strength?"
The droplets continued. The pattern as well.
Beat, two beats. And repeat. It was simple, but it worked.
"Oh, I get it. You want me to follow your rhythm?"
Furina switched her posture and picked up her violin again. She was compelled to show her superb and divine skills to the formless wind in front of her since words did not seem to work. The simple rhythm was a bit too simple for Furina, so she added a long beat at the end of the loop. The wind noticed and added a whir to its rhythm
Beat, two beats. Whir. Beat, three beats. And repeat.
Something didn't seem… quite right with the beat. It was hectic, but not in a chaotic way. Like a person walking on a limp. It was constant, yet it didn't feel right. Was the spirit trying to communicate with her? Perhaps it was expressing how it felt, just like Furina did previously?
"You lack harmony, little wind. Such a sequence of beats feels unnatural! However, I'll humour you."
Playing the tune with the violin, the rhythm did not feel any less awkward. Something was missing… Or, rather, there was something that shouldn't be there. Yet what was it? The whir? One of the beats? The repeat? Was the spirit trying to say that it was lacking something, or that it had something it shouldn't be there?
The spirit stopped abruptly. Furina did as well. All its water fell to the ground, as if unable to even muster the feeblest of winds.
"Are you okay, little spirit?" She asked, unsure if it was even there. If she could see the elements, then it would be much easier. Yet… "Did it die? Or did I mess up?"
Her eyes drooped to the floor, passing by the balcony railing. Like a cloth trapped against the railings, there was an odd, flimsy shape stuck against it. It almost seemed like it had been detached from something bigger. "Oh! There you are! Dying. I think."
As if suddenly realising the severity of the situation, Furina put down her violin again and bow on the floor and carefully picked the strange cloth. It seemed barely alive. It also reeked like it wasn't alive. Did it come here to listen to music and pass away?
"Oh gods! Oh my me! What do anemo spirits need to live? Err... come on! Wind?"
Furina breathed in until her lungs were full and softly blew on the poor anemo spirit. It seemed to gain some strength, as it fluttered slightly against Furina's breath. She gathered some more air and repeated the course. Suddenly, the cloth gathered itself and resumed flying, spinning around itself as if it had suddenly been revived.
"I saved something! Ohoho~! Somehow…!" She had to switch back to her normal vision. "Obviously I couldn't give you my elemental energy since we're not compatible, but I have imbued you with my fantastic oceanic sigh. I know you are just flooding me with praise and gratitude." Furina cleared her throat. "My magnificent musical skills left you dazed, it's quite the normal reaction! Still, do not fly away. Your health should be our first priority."
If the wind spirit understood her, it chose to ignore her. It picked up the trickles of water from their performance and swirled them around it.
"Trying to show off again? Your musical talent was severely lacking, you know? You can't compare to the great Hydro Arch—" Furina was suddenly splattered by the remaining water of the wind. "OH WHAT THE HELL! I SAVED YOUR LIFE, YOU CRÉTIN!"
As if enjoying Furina's budding anger, the wind took a moment to sweep in and absorb all the moisture from her face. The water droplets danced hectically in the wind as if it was laughing.
"You think you're real funny, aren't you? Very well then, I've thought of a name for you. You're now Souffle! Because you're stinky like a drunkard's breath!" Furina felt a bit too proud of her invention.
Little Souffle didn't react negatively, so she continued. Like last time, it seemed to be losing strength as the droplets slowly fell from its feeble air current.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you are very weak." Furina picked up her hat and dusted it off. Then she turned it around. "I'll make sure you're all better. So hop in."
Little Souffle did not seem like it wanted to be nursed back to full health.
"Ehem, I am the Hydro Archon, Focalors. Jump inside my hat so I can carry you and, quite mercifully, heal you like the springwater of life."
Little Souffle was being a little asshole and tried to drench her full of water again.
"You…! I have to be able to save something as feeble as a spirit. Otherwise, how could I save Fontaine?! YOU ARE GETTING SAVED!"
The anemo spiritwas nimble enough to avoid being swept inside the hat. Yet, as if the act itself had depleted all energy it had left, it suddenly fell still. Furina then managed to catch it as if the previous failure had been all part of the plan. The elemental cloth that embodied the spirit tried to gust itself out of it, but Furina prevented it by putting the hat on her head.
"See? All's going to be better from now on!" Furina struggled to keep the hat on her head. "A-All better from now on! We're friends! The best! You have to understand that I'm helping you!"
With a well-trained laugh, she turned towards the closed balcony door. The laugh petered out into an awkward giggle as she couldn't move her hands from her hat. With agility worthy of a 90-year-old acrobat who retired in their twenties, Furina raised her leg and somehow managed to open the balcony door. She then lost balance and almost fell head-first into her room.
Standing up like nothing had happened, Furina kicked the crystal door shut. And then realisation struck her like a cascade.
"No, my violin! I forgot…! Neuvillette is going to think I'm a brute if I break two violins in the same year!"
Weighing her options, Furina decided that the life of the little spirit was worth more than the violin. So she ambled towards her bed and, quite swiftly, put her hat down on it. It didn't move. Fearing the worst, Furina peered into the hat to see that the spirit had returned to that creepy cloth form.
She picked it up, placed it on both her palms and softly blew some air into it. It regained some strength once again, turning into a transparent wind mass for a minute or so before losing form.
"Something must be making you sick…"
It was just a little wind spirit trying its best, alone in the world. In that regard, they weren't so different. She couldn't afford to lose it, not after it decided to stay and play music even while sick.
"It's alright petit Souffle. You just need to rest, just like I do. I'll stay awake with you until you're as strong as before. So don't leave me either."