Lions and Their Pride
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When Navia Caspar was just a child she would always like to play pretend. As a child, she would watch all the grown-ups in the Spina D' Rosula using intricate swords, visions, and even guns. For some reason, as a child, she developed a deep adoration and sense of awe for the use of those ranged weapons. Watching the smoke of a pistol shot plume into the air, as a metal ball of steel burst forth going faster than the eye could see, obliterating any that came in its path. For some reason, Navia Caspar was fascinated by it. She had gone to her father, Callas Caspar, and asked him if she could use a gun. To just be able to fire one once, not even at a target, that would make the young Navia's world. However, Callas had dismissed her request.
"Using a gun is something only grown-ups can do. They are dangerous. If I can help it, you will never have to use one."
Navia had yelled at her father, in her childish naivety, saying that she hated him. That, he wouldn't ever let her be her own person, that he was always going to keep her sheltered from the life he lived. Navia could've never known all that being the head of the Rosula could've meant, nor should she fully comprehend all that it would bring, but she was still always a child grown ahead of her time. After her mother, Clementine Caspar, died during her birth it was apparent that Navia could never have a normal childhood. She didn't act as normal children did. While other kids were busy playing games, free from the burden of responsibility, Navia would always try to get closer to her father's work. Whenever she would catch him, she would ask him what he was doing, and why it was important. Time and time again, Callas would give her a half-answer, blow her off saying that he was too busy, and get along with whatever he was doing. It wasn't fair. Navia thought it wasn't fair. Maybe that's why she was so entranced by a gun. It was a symbol to her of adulthood. A symbol that meant- If I have this, I am a grown-up, and I must be taken seriously. If she had a gun, no one could blow her off or ignore her. If she had a gun, then surely, even her father would finally be forced to acknowledge her.
Navia as a child had never been one to play pretend. But when she gained her newfound fixation on firearms, she couldn't help herself, her imagination ran wild. The type of gun it was, maybe a pistol, or a rifle, flintlock, or elemental. Firing it into the air, watching the bullet fly into the sky, boundless. Or shooting it into the water, watching it splash and drizzle down into the ocean, daring to go where Navia couldn't. It made the young girl smile. She wanted to play more.
That is when she called her closest friend, Clorinde, over to a park to play.
"Navia," Clorinde had said, "Come on, it's gonna rain soon, we should go home."
"Don't worry," Navia responded, "It's going to be fun."
They had traveled together for a while, getting far away from the Spina D' Rosula, away from any prying eyes. It was by Navia's design. When they came upon a run-down park, they stopped, and Navia revealed to her friend what they were doing.
"Let's fight."
"What?"
Navia explained to Clorinde what she wanted to do. They would pretend to get into a gunfight. It would be fun.
"Navia," Clorinde said, "That's dumb."
"No, it's not!"
"We don't even have guns. We're not allowed to have any. If there is no real threat, then it's not even a fight."
Navia pouted, "Then what do you think we should do?"
"Well…" Clorinde thought, "The only thing we could fight with is our hands. A fist-fight."
"Really? Then let's do that."
"No!" Clorinde pleaded, "Monsieur Callas would be angry if we did that."
"It'll be fine."
"But… But he told me to make sure you didn't get hurt when we first went out."
"Ugh." Navia whined, "Father always treats me like I'm some kind of child. I don't need protection! I can protect myself. Now come on, let's fight!"
"Navia, we can't."
"Why not?"
"You need a real reason to fight. You can't just fight someone out of nowhere. It's illegal. It's crazy."
"Are you reasonable, then? You'll fight me if you have a reason… So, like this?"
Before Clorinde could ask what she meant, she felt a sharp pain hit her cheek and a loud thud echo in the air. Navia had slapped her. As her face went red, and a tear began to form in her eye, Clorinde was exasperated.
"W-why did you do that?" She had begun to cry a little.
"Now you have a reason to fight me, right?"
"Navia. Please-"
Another slap.
"Stop-"
Another slap.
"Navia!"
Another slap-
No. This time, before Navia could hit her again, Clorinde grabbed onto her hand. Any reasonable doubt she had disappeared, washed away by the pain of her cheek, and she saw red. With her free hand, Clorinde punched Navia in the nose, sending her to the floor.
The rain had begun to fall. Navia stood as quickly as her little legs could and lunged at her friend. It wasn't a dignified fight. Not at all. They punched and clawed and kicked at each other. Bites and slaps, hair pulling, dress ripping. It was more akin to two little tiger cubs, who had never fought before, bearing their fangs for the first time. A step into what the rest of their lives would be. Of course, those little cubs wouldn't know that, acting based solely on instinct. And, as Clorinde and Navia rolled around in the mud and blood, clawing at each other, in those moments there was little to learn. Their childish emotions ran wild. The two close friends had forgotten all that had been between them prior, and instead focused on the here and now, on beating the other.
Their fight didn't last long. Like two little lion cubs, they had little stamina, and so both collapsed to the floor before any real damage could be done. In the end, Clorinde managed to come out on top, straddling Navia to the floor. After a few motionless seconds, she fell down herself. They lay side by side together on the ground, panting and in pain, the rain falling onto their faces from the clouds above. After a few minutes of resting, they both stood, not saying a word to each other. Instead, Navia went one way, back to Rosula, and Clorinde went her way, to wherever she was expected. When Navia got home, her dress ruined and covered in mud, her face bloodied and bruised, Callas nearly had a heart attack right there. However, after Navia confessed to what had happened to her father, all his worry turned into anger. He yelled at Navia. Her father never yelled. Not at her. But he yelled then. It made Navia cry. She felt ashamed. All she wanted was to prove herself before her father, yet here he was now, berating her as if she didn't know a thing. Like she was some baby. Navia Caspar was frustrated with all she had and all she didn't. The lack of respect, the way she was treated, her constant being left in the dark, how her father always insisted he protect her. Navia hated it all. She wanted it to end.
And one day, when she was older, she would show them. She would show her father, Rosula, Clorinde, and all of Fontaine that she was to be reckoned with. That she knew what she was doing. That she was capable. That she was worthy of respect and renown, and to be regarded just like her father. That the life she was given by Celestia above would amount to something great. That Clementine Caspar didn't die for nothing.
That Navia Casper was not a child.
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When Clorinde was a teenager, she realized that she already knew where her whole life was headed for the rest of her days, or until she died. Whichever came first. In truth, it wasn't just in these years, even when she was a child the sense of honor and renown she knew was great from her time spent in the upper crust of the Court of Fontaine. Oftentimes, her parents would take her to the Opera Epiclese to watch the trials that would be heard and the duels that would be held. The duels specifically, she did not understand. She remembered asking her mother why people would risk their lives in combat, rather than simply face the Court of law, and accept their resigned verdict. Her mother told her one word. 'Honor.'
As Clorinde aged, she became more and more fascinated with the duel. Two people fighting for all their worth, laying themselves bare and naked for the world, trying to prove their honor most earnestly. It was almost cathartic to see for Clorinde, who had grown so tired of the aristocratic way of life. And she knew that it would be the way of life she followed when her mother had come to her one day and declared to her, 'It's time for you to be married off to a husband.'
Dressing in fine and confining clothing, long poofy skirts, and glass high heels? She couldn't do it. No matter how customary it was for women of good standing in the Court to exhibit their wealth and position in such ways. Clorinde didn't care for such things at all. Not the mora in the pocket nor the status of one's cup. No. Clorinde didn't want to resign herself as a noble. She didn't want to resign herself to marry some high-placed man just as her mother did. Clorinde wanted to be respected. She wanted to be renowned. She wanted to be honored. When she had told her as such, that she would be abandoning all that the traditional way of life had to offer, and instead about to route wherein goes against what was always considered natural and ordinary, her mother struck her. In front of a crowd of people, her mother hadn't said anything to her at all and instead slapped her on the cheek. It didn't bring her any physical pain, not in the slightest. Yet, it struck deep and true at her pride, at her honor. Words could never hurt her, but standing here in silence, her mother's very gaze averted. It hurt. Her mother had walked away from her, not saying a word, and the very same day Clorinde went and signed up for the honor of being a duelist.
In her teenage years, she didn't go home, she didn't do much at all other than study and practice the art of dueling. There had seldom been women to ever sign up for the position. And the last time any woman had ever risen to high prominence in the duelist circle was hundreds of years ago. Truly, Clorinde was isolated from much and all. But that was fine. Clorinde had to get used to that isolation. In the duelist arena, only you can prove yourself to society. There is no one else that matters but yourself. When the gaze of the masses fell upon your cup, you had to be the greatest, for anything short and they would see you as a failure. And so Clorinde practiced and studied day in and day out, focusing on nothing else. Not family, not friends. Not anything more.
Not long after, it was her first real duel in an arena, against a criminal who had refused to face the Court. The man, a vile escaped convict who had in their years of activity gone about kidnapping and abusing young teenage women, demanded they he be given a fight to prove himself still a worthy member of Fontainians society. Perhaps it was some kind of twisted joke that she was brought in to face this man, for Clorinde couldn't help but be conscious of her own self as she faced the man down on the stage of the Opera Epiclese. There, the limelight shining down on her, in the uniform of the duelists and wielding the blade, being judged and looked upon by a crowd of watchers. Here and now, she is laid bare naked for all the world to see. Her cup. Now was the time to prove herself. Now was the time for action. In this ring, in this duel, she would prove her honor.
So she struck, and in a few brief moments, the vile convict fell dead to the floor. It was easier than Clorinde had expected, her tribulation and self-doubt in her mind hurt her far more than the actual fight. And as the man faded from the world, she looked to the applauding audience and cheering people, and knew she had succeeded. She was right. She would live and die as the champion duelist of Fontaine.
And she would kill any who stood before her in the arena.
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It was raining on the day that it happened. Navia had just turned eighteen years of age. Finally an adult. Finally worthy of regard. She had expected her father to come around soon, as he had done on every other day of her birth, and would wish her well in the coming year. But this time, she would confront her father. Not as a child, but as a woman grown, and demanding his respect. She wouldn't let him leave early, as he always did, and instead forced him to sit and explain himself and his actions over the years. Explain to her what he refused to explain. Damned be his protection. Damned be his excuses. She would face him here and now. And, if measures became drastic enough, she would even threaten him with the new geo-infused gun she had bought. Whatever it took for her to be regarded at last.
However, instead of her father, it was that loyal butler Melus who came. There, he broke the news to her that would change the rest of her life.
Navia ran through the pouring rain, the geo vision at her side dangling back and forth, as she desperately made her way to the Palais Mermonia. Her father was going to die. How could this be? Her father- a murderer? Her father- killing his own best friend? Her father- The best man she had ever known in her entire life. The man who raised her from birth. The man who cared for her more than the world. The man who refused to let any harm befall her. The man who refused to tell her anything. The man who tried to separate her so much from the life he lived. The man who she loved the most in the world. The man who she hated most in the world. Her father, Callas Caspar, husband of the late Clementine. Her father, accused of murder? It couldn't be. Navia couldn't accept it. Some gardes had tried to stop her, but she threw them aside with all her might and broke through the door of the Palais. Disregarding the warnings of the melusine at the desk, she made her way unwavering, full of emotion, to the office of the Chief Justice of the Court of Fontaine the Honorable Monsieur Neuvillette. There, he sat at his desk, his face without expression.
"Madam Navia Caspar." The Chief Justice said plainly, "I hope you understand the extreme violation of the law you have committed, breaking in this place."
"Damn your laws!" Navia said, slamming her hands onto his desk, "What is the meaning of this? My father, a murderer? Are you insane? What kind of ruling is that? My father has done nothing but improve the city and help its people. He is more honest than any man who has ever been sworn into the Courtroom. How can he be a killer? How could he kill his own friend? How could he be guilty as Brutus was guilty?"
The Chief Justice hummed in agreement, "Yes. There is something most odd about this trial. It's not like anything I've seen before. I doubt he is guilty as well."
"Then why?" Navia shouted, "Why is he being forced to fight in a duel to prove his innocence? How could you find him guilty?"
"I didn't."
"What?"
"Monsieur Callas refused to go to trial. He demanded immediately to fight in a duel. He was never found guilty. The duel is about to begin."
Her eyes went wide, "Where?"
"The Opera Epiclese."
Navia turned around. She couldn't understand. Why did her father not defend himself? He was so proud. He who would refuse to do anything that wasn't his way. He had so much to live for. Why would he condemn himself? Why wouldn't he try to prove his innocence? Why? She had to get the answers from him herself. She had to go to the duel and stop it. She had to talk him into his senses. She had to-
"Navia." Before she could leave, Monsieur Neuvillette called out to her. "I am as frustrated by this turn of events as you. But this was Monsieur Callas's choice. He told me before all this, knowing that you would come here, to deliver a message. He said, 'Forget about me. Forget about this. Do not go to the duel. Do not bury me. Leave the Spina D' Rosula and live your life the way you choose. Be your own person.' That is what he said."
Navia couldn't comprehend it. "Why? Why would he say that? Why does he insist on protecting me? Why, even now as he faces his own death, does he not want to tell me anything? Am I too unworthy? Am I too weak? Does he hate me? Celestia above, tell me why?!" Navia shouted to the gods in heaven. For who else could answer her questions?
Neuvillette spoke up, "I'm unsure myself. But if I had to guess, from my own long history with Monsieur Callas- I would think it is his pride as a man."
"His pride?"
"Yes."
"... Damned be that man!" Navia shook her head in denial, tears running down her face, and she sprinted away. She could not look at the cold and lifeless eyes of the Chief Justice any longer. Running through the pouring rain once again, she couldn't even tell how long it took to reach the Opera Epiclese. The beating of her heart, the numbness of her mind, it was all like a nightmare.
Finally, she rushed into the seating area. Hundreds of people watched in silence. Wealthy elites, members of the underground, government officials, normal unaffiliated civilians, and members of the Rosula, it seemed all of Fontaine was here to watch her father die. And there, on the stage that shined from the beam lights brighter than the sun, her father stood blade in hand, blood running down the side of his head from a cut above his eye.
She tried to call out to him. 'Father!' She shouted. But he didn't hear her. In fact, no one even looked in her direction, they were too preoccupied with Callas to even recognize or acknowledge his daughter as even existing. 'Father!' She shouted again to no avail. 'Father!' Nothing. No, she had to get his attention, she had to. Navia reached into the side of her dress, and from it pulled out a small pistol she had just bought not a few hours ago, when the world made sense. Pointing into the air, Navia shot a geo bullet through the roof, leaving a loud bang to echo throughout the opera house. Finally, Callas turned to where the sound came from and saw his daughter there, covered in rain and tears, looking at him deathly pale and with fear in her heart. They caught each other's eyes, a million thoughts traveling through Navia's head, questioning everything around. At that moment, however, Callas had only one thing on his mind. Breathlessly and wordlessly, Navia saw her father mouth something to her. Two words that she, though having never heard those words from her father before, knew exactly what they were. Two words that Navia would've never expected for him to say. Two words that changed everything Navia knew of him. Two words that Navia longed for so long to hear. Two words that, at this moment, were the last two words Callas would ever say. Two words, the very last two words, that Navia would've ever wanted to hear from him now. In that breathless voice, inaudible to anyone in the crowd, any Archon on their throne, or even Celestia above, Navia bore witness to his final testimony;
'I'm sorry.'
Navia collapsed onto her knees.
The crowd caught their breath.
The Champion Duelist raised her blade.
And Callas closed his eyes.
The next second it was all over.
Navia turned eighteen today. She had believed, like a child, that she would finally get the answers she was looking for. Finally, her father would tell her everything she deserved to know. Now, she would never get those answers, as her father breathed his last, and Navia was left alone in this world.
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Clorinde stood in the highest section of the Opera Epiclese, to her side upon a mighty throne, was the Hydro Archon. Finally, after so many years of practicing and training, she was the champion duelist of Fontaine. No one could match her, proven through thousands of hours of experience, and hundreds of duels won. She was untouchable. For that reason, she was made to protect the Archon and act as her personal bodyguard. Such a duty was the most honorable position any Fontainian citizen hoped to behold, second only to the Chief Justice himself. None could doubt her now. Not the aristocrats. Not the people. Not even her mother, who would've without a doubt still continued to shun her even now, wherever she was. It should've been the greatest achievement Clorinde ever had.
However, standing here watching the trial of the century go underway, Clorinde couldn't care less about her duty. Three years had passed since that fateful rainy day, when she struck down Callas the unfaithful, the man she knew fondly from her youth. She had been hesitant at first. She couldn't believe for a second that he was a treacherous murderer. On the contrary, Clorinde knew of few men more deserving of honor than he. However, when she walked into the arena and saw first-hand the conviction in his face, all her doubts were dissuaded. That man before her was determined to fight. Determined to die. No amount of words could change that fact. And so with honor in her heart and mind, Clorinde killed Callas, never stopping to question whether or not he was actually guilty. At that moment, it didn't matter to her at all. Guilt. Innocence. All were secondary to honoring his wishes. And over the past three years, she hadn't questioned it.
But now, here in the opera house, Navia Caspar brought before god and man the true culprit behind the infamous missing women's case. A man named Marcel. He was behind the years of tragedy, the dozens of dead, the immeasurable suffering. And, as the trial reached its head, it was revealed that he was responsible for framing Callas the unfaithful for the murder of his friend. That it was all the grand scheme of a deranged man wishing to bring back his dead wife. That Callas died to protect his daughter.
During the trial, even Clorinde was brought to testify.
"So… You mean to say…" The Hydro Archon said, "Your father intended to die in the duelists' ring?"
"That's right," Navia affirmed.
"Do you have any proof?"
"Of course. All you need is to ask his opponent, Clorinde."
"…" Clorinde was silent. Why did her name need to be brought into this? Why now? She wanted to run away. Undefeated she may have been. Sworn by the oath of a dead man's last wish to protect the woman before her she may have been. The last thing she wanted to do now was give testimony.
"I don't need your apology, your guilt, or your support from the shadows. You don't have to do anything for my sake. But since he entrusted his will to you, Clorinde, you should tell us the truth about his sacrifice."
It felt like a slap to the face. Navia… She was as forceful as ever. Demanding the truth she had been burdened to hide. Not only from the world. But from herself. Some pathetic attempt to maintain the facade of her honor. That all she practiced and worked for meant something worth anything at all.
"Erm… So… During the duel, did you believe that Callas was intending to die?" The Hydro Archon questioned.
Here and now, it was now or never. With the people staring down at her. With the limelight on her face. She was duty bound to her nation as a Fontainian, to her position as the Champion Duelist, to the Archon as a follower of Justice, to Navia by the wishes of Callas, and to her honor which bound her forever. She knew her answer. There was nothing else to say.
Clorinde took a deep breath. "Yes, I did. As a champion duelist, I've fought many battles, and taken a countless number of dishonored lives. In my line of work, I've seen all kinds of people give their all for the faintest hope to continue living. Some were determined, some passionate, and some even manic and twisted. Just one look and I can tell if a duelist is hoping to live, or if they're looking to die. I hereby swear on my name and honor and as a champion duelist that Mr. Callas never intended to leave the ring alive."
The crowd was silent.
The Hydro Archon nodded.
Navia gasped in shock.
It was done.
And though Clorinde stood high above all others, she held her head low.
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So much had changed so quickly in Navia's life. From the moment she took her first breath in life as a newborn, to the moment she took her first breath in life as a woman, everything had been stagnant. Though she sought to change. Though she sought to advance herself. Though she sought the world. It would never come. Not if her father could help it. But in just a day, her father died, and all was uprooted. For eighteen years, it felt like only days would pass, but on that stormy night, it was as if decades flew by Navia's face, decades of years prior and years unseen. During the immediate aftermath of it all, everything unraveled. The Rosula fell to ruin, with many of its sponsors pulling out, and a majority of its members abandoning them. The news reported in every outlet how the most famous vigilante in all Fontaine turned out to be a vile killer. It was cruel.
Navia had no time to think before taking up the mantle as the head of the Spina D' Rosula. Though she wasn't entirely alone then. Her loyal guard and friend Silver, and the butler who had served her family for a generation, Melus, were at her side. With their help, and with the backing of the Rosula members who refused to leave, they managed to get back on their feet. For three years after, the Rosula held on desperately to survival, clinging to whatever money or renown or acknowledgment they could get. Navia couldn't care for herself any longer. She had a legacy to uphold. For three years, that was how it was. And for all it was looking, that was what Navia thought she would spend the next thirty years doing.
Then, the Traveler showed up, and so quickly change had come to Navia's life. The case of her father was finally brought to a conclusion with the Traveler's help, revealing that he was in fact set up, and was innocent the entire time. The damned case of the missing women was finally resolved after so long. The doomed prophecy that held up like a dagger above all Fontaine, that Navia never believed, had come and gone. Melus and Silver were dead. The Rosula was in ruin. Navia was all alone with no answers.
However, for the first time in forever, finally, the name of the Caspar family, of the Spina D' Rosula, of Navia, was regarded once again. No longer did people look at them as the housing of murderers and backstabbers, but as the good people who helped save lives during the flood. Of good people who provided food and shelter to those affected. Who assisted the Court in many ways when dealing with justice. For the first time, Navia was getting the respect she deserved. People came to her first to discuss. People came to her to ask for her opinion. People came to her to let her know. People recognized her.
Or at least, that's what she thought.
"Have you ever considered that… Maybe the people around you don't actually care about you at all?" Colter, the backstabbing, murderous old member of the Rosula said, "Have you ever considered that… Maybe you only get respect because you're Callas and Clementine's daughter? That you've never done anything worthy, that you're just a big nothing? Have you ever considered that… Maybe people don't stay in Poisson because of you, but only because they have such beautiful memories of the past before you came!"
What followed was a plot to destroy the Rosula that was stopped thanks to the help of the Traveler. Once again. The Traveler saved the day. She had thought they were partners, equals, even. But, with the words like daggers that echoed in her mind that Colter spoke, she began to doubt everything she thought was true. She had asked the Traveler if they still thought they were partners, and they said 'yes'. But that was obvious. The Traveler was a good person. A kind person. The person Navia wished she could be. Alone, Navia was unsure what to do. There was so much work left. So much to be taken care of. Yet, she couldn't stop thinking of her pride. Her damaged, shattered, dissolved pride. All that she sought to save and keep was gone. The answers, gone. Her loved ones, gone. Her home, destroyed. Rebuilt they could be, yet the fact that they were hurt would remain. Every time she looked in the mirror, she saw that day. The rainy day her father died. She saw in her own eyes reflected the mouthing of those breathless words, and Navia wished she could repeat them back to him. I'm sorry for failing to keep the Spina D' Rosula standing tall. I'm sorry I couldn't protect Poisson. I'm sorry that I couldn't maintain the pride you held so deeply. I'm sorry I couldn't make use of the life I was given in exchange. I'm sorry you had to die to protect me. Navia was sorry for all her father did for her. The silence. The tricks. The death. Callas stopped at nothing. Navia was sorry for it. But worst of all. Her father asked the one who killed him to be her protector. There was not a torture method more dire in the Fortress of Meropid. Not a verdict more severe in all the code of Fontaine. Not a punishment in hell more painful. Nothing was worse than that. Even in Celestia above, her father wished to protect her, asking that duelist to do so in his death. It made Navia want to do something crazy. It made her want to jump head-first off a cliff just to spite him and end it all. It made her want to break into the Palais like she did three years ago, and instead of being given a pardon by the Chief Justice, do something so egregious that the Caspar known and regarded as the most evil and murderous would be her and not Callas. It drove her mad. And in that madness, Navia had an idea. Something she knew, the moment she thought of it, she had to do. So, wasting no time, Navia drafted a letter. A letter to someone to whom she once considered her closest friend. A letter to the person to whom she cared about deeply. A letter to the person to whom she had to see.
Navia wrote a letter to the Champion Duelist Clorinde.
She was always the more reasonable one.
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Clorinde was undefeated. Years of fighting. Years of combat. She had never lost in the ring. Not against a fellow duelist, and never against a criminal. Standing here, in the Opera Epiclese, preparing to duel another poor soul, she knew she wouldn't lose. The young man before her was scrawny, shaking, and afraid. He could barely hold a sword properly, let alone use it. It was a foregone conclusion.
The young man was guilty of a crime of thievery. Some hungry poor man is stealing food to survive. A poor man unfortunate enough to find himself faced with the law, and a harsh punishment. Of course, he refused to take it to trial and instead chose to fight. An honorable decision.
The battle only lasted a minute. The poor man didn't even have a vision. Clorinde easily overcame him with her immense speed and strength, pointing her sharp blade directly at the throat of the young man, as he lay there on his knees.
Clorinde lifted her blade.
The young man closed his eyes.
Clorinde brought the blade down-
There. She could see it clearly. Right there in front of her now was the man she respected most in the world. The father of her closest friend. He put up a good fight. But he could never hope to beat her. And so, Clorinde killed him that day. Brought an end to the life of someone in a duel. In the last moments of a heinous killer, she gave him honor. She allowed him the opportunity to lay himself bare and prove himself worthy of respect. That she took solace in. That she told herself. That she used to justify everything she did. It was all for honor.
Years later, it was revealed that he did nothing wrong and that she had murdered an innocent man.
Clorinde stifled, her blade held motionless in the air, a flood of emotions filling her. Like a cup overflowing. The young man saw this, and taking the opportunity, struck forward. Clorinde jumped back as soon as she regained her composure, but she was hit. Only a graze, but still. A small tear at the side of her hip bled ever so slightly, indicating that she didn't manage to dodge it in time. The duel wasn't over, but still, Clorinde couldn't remember the last time she was cut during a fight.
Looking over to the young man, his face clearly displaying his fear, Clorinde couldn't fight any longer. Not after all that has happened. So much had changed so quickly.
So, Clorinde called the duel, declaring she had lost, and setting the man free. After the fact, many officials came to her demanding an answer. The Champion Duelist never lost, after all. They accused her of throwing the match. They accused her of being weak. They accused her of colluding in conspiracy with the criminal and engaging in treason. However, she was above them all in status, and so their attacks on her honor meant nothing. Her cup was far larger than theirs now. They couldn't shun her opinion.
Walking away from dueling for a time, Clorinde had to collect herself, for all her life was thrown into ruin after that day of the trial. When she killed Callas, she had told herself it was showing him respect. She deluded herself into thinking that it was all for the sake of honor. That, since he chose to duel, meant he wished to preserve his honor, and that fighting him was only showing him respect. It was all for honor. But he was not evil, He was a good man then and now, and it killed Clorinde. She had believed despite everything she had gone through that Fontaine society was just. That despite the nobility, despite the aristocracy, despite it all, it was still a righteous land. She was willing to die for it when the prophecy had happened. But after that trial, she couldn't tell at all now. The Hydro Archon was actually human, the prophecy never came to be, and the Justice system of Fontaine was not actually just. The world was inside out and honor was upside down. Clorinde remembered how once her mother had demanded that she go off to be married to some man to preserve the honor of the family. Maybe it would've been better to have just done that, instead of having to deal with all the pain this place brought. How could she ever, even for a single second, restore what was lost? Her connection with her family, gone. Her position as the undefeated champion duelist, gone. The respect she had for Fontaine, gone. Her own sense of self and honor, gone. What did she have now? What could she do? She heard of a practice once, from the far-off land of Inazuma, that in the case of a warrior bringing upon themselves great and unbearable shame, they would kill themselves as a last attempt to restore their honor. Clorinde had always been radical. Been crazy. It was crazy, the idea that a woman could become the champion duelist. Yet she did. It was crazy to her mother to not do what was expected of a woman in high-class society, yet she did. It was crazy to let that young man win, to throw the duel, yet she did. What Clorinde needed now, was to be brought back to reality. So caught up in her desire for honor, never going home, demanding herself to obey the wishes of a dead man, she had no sense of self. Her cup was practically not her own. She needed reason.
That was when she received the letter from the last person and yet at the time the first person on her mind, and she knew she had to meet her.
After all, Navia was, if nothing else, crazy.
.
.
They met on an overcast night. Ominous deep black clouds held high overhead, threatening to pour down an ocean of rain. A light wind blew along the fields of green grass, foreshadowing the coming storm. Far away from any civilization, Clorinde met with her old friend, watching her as she stared off into the ocean.
Clorinde respected Navia immensely. There was a woman who refused to allow herself to be silent. No matter what came along. No matter what it was she wanted. She would take it. She was loud and passionate and in your face. She did things her way or no way at all. There wasn't a soul in Fontaine who didn't know her name, or didn't know the infamous reputation of the new boss of the Rosula. For Celestia's sake. Even when she was a child, she had a fascination for guns, already a sign of the woman she would become. When she could, Navia made a gun into an umbrella of all things. An umbrella! She even called it a 'gun-brella!' Clorinde respected her friend, for she was everything the duelist wasn't. Clorinde wished she could be as loud as Navia was. Where it took her years to practice and train for people to look at her, Navia was louder than you at all times, no matter what you tried to do. As if by nature. She was a lot like Callas. Even now, Clorinde could see reflected in those yellow eyes the image of that man she respects immensely. If only she could be that capable. Maybe her life would've turned out so differently.
As the two women stared into each other's eyes, Navia knew for certain, she honored Clorinde immensely. She was a fighter who refused to let herself be ignored. No matter who tried to stop her. No matter how high her goals were. She would find a way. She was calm and collected and always in your face. She acted in the way only someone of true renown and stature could. There wasn't a person in all Tevyat who couldn't acknowledge her. For Celestia's sake. Even when she was a child, she had an obsession with dueling, already a sign of the woman she would become. And when she did, Clorinde became the Champion Duelist of all Fontaine. The Champion! Navia honored her friend, for she was everything the Caspar wasn't. Navia wished she could be as calm as Clorinde was. Where it took her an entire lifetime to earn the respect of her peers, only gaining it after her father's death, Clorinde would fight and earn that respect, and she would always get it. As if by nature. She was a lot like Callas. Even now, Navia could see reflected in those purple eyes the image of the man she honored immensely. If only she could be that capable. Maybe her life would've turned out so differently.
A moment of silence passed before Navia spoke first.
"It's good to see you again," Navia said.
"Likewise…" Clorinde trailed, "Much has changed since the flood."
Navia laughed, "Yes, much has changed."
"I received your letter. Why have you called us out to his place? Where nothing remains."
"Nothing?" Navia turned to face Clorinde, her gun-brella open behind her back, "Don't you remember this place? We always used to play here as children."
Clorinde did remember. It was here where they got into that fight, where they went their separate ways. It was here where the rain fell on their lives. It was here where a broken down playground one stood, that was now gone, leaving only a patch of dirt in its wake.
"The playground is a shadow," Clorinde echoed her thoughts, "We loved to go on the swings on the slide in our youth."
"I know. It's a shame. I would've loved to at least get one more round before… Well…" Navia didn't finish her sentence.
"What do you want, Navia? You didn't tell me. All you asked was that I come here and that it was urgent. 'Come to the place where we used to play. I have a request.' Well, I'm here. I will do anything you wish."
"Anything?"
"If it is within my power."
And as soon as she said that, Navia put on that wide, mischievous smile that she always had on whenever something went her way, and it made Clorinde immediately regret her answer.
"Then, champion duelist of Fontaine, Clorinde. I challenge you to a duel."
Clorinde's eyes went wide.
"Why… Why would you ask me this?"
Navia laughed, "I have to avenge him."
"Haven't you already done that? The real killer is dead. The man who set up your father is gone."
"Not against him. But you, Clorinde."
Her? Clorinde's mind felt like a flood.
"I demand a fight. To restore the honor of my father. You beat him, and so I shall beat you. Fair, right?"
Navia was a crazy woman. She knew this fact well. But Clorinde would've never imagined in a thousand years this would have been what she wanted. To fight here and now? Like she did her father. It was unimaginable. It was ridiculous. It was unsightly. It was dishonorable.
It made Clorinde's heart beat like a wild animal.
Navia's heart beat like a wild animal.
She had done it. She confessed her feelings. She had admitted to what she wanted. That was the hardest part. To be able to look her in the eye and say it. The way Clorinde always kept a calm face. Navia was a crybaby. She had to admit it. But Clorinde never let herself get too emotional. It intimidated her more than the status of Champion ever could. But still, she managed to say it, and here they were.
"… No, Navia. We can't. Come on, it's about to rain, let's just go home."
"My apologies, But I can't allow you to refuse. So, please, draw your blade."
"This is… This is illegal. It's crazy."
"The woman of reason comes again. You want a justification to duel? Then listen to me now. Every night, I look into the sea that holds all our emotions and all that we feel, and I must turn away. For in that sea, I see in those rippled waves not the site of myself, but of my father, his blood tainting the pure blue water. His face on mine. The mark of shame forever bounding me. I must do him right. I have to show him I am a daughter he can be proud of. But, so long as the memories I have of him are that of him being beaten like a dog just for my sake, it will be impossible. So," Navia drew her golden halberd, so crazy in design, "Stand! My name is Navia Caspar, you killed my father, prepare to die!"
"… Did you practice reciting that in the mirror?"
Navia stuck her tongue out, "I did. Was it good?"
It was good. Too good. Clorinde almost felt convinced of her conviction. For a moment, she thought she was looking at Callas again when he first stepped into the ring, fully aware that he was going to die, yet completely unwavering, almost satisfied. Navia looked satisfied with whatever would happen. This whole family was crazy. This world was crazy and honor was upside down.
"Navia…" Clorinde's voice began to break as the wind picked up, blowing aside her hat, and exposing both her waning eyes. "I made a promise upon my honor. I made a promise to Callas to protect you."
"Don't you dare say that to me now!" Navia's eyes held fury, "Don't you dare. Protecting me. Always protecting me. I don't want it. I don't need it! Your protection has done nothing but hurt me. How do you not understand that now?"
Why? What was she doing wrong? She killed Callas. An innocent man. Took his life for nothing, only becoming a part of the corrupted system she wished to escape. All she had to tell herself over these three years was that she was protecting his daughter at least. But instead, she had hurt Navia. The revelation came like a slap in the face. Perhaps her mother was right. She wasn't made for this. If she couldn't do this then what could she do?
"Clorinde… I can see it in your eyes. So fight me!" Navia shouted, and when Clorinde looked up to catch her gaze, she saw herself reflected through ripples of tears. Was she crying? Or was Navia? Who was the crybaby?
"I can see it." Navia went on, "You're hesitating. Why? Tell me why!? Don't keep me in the dark too!"
"Because-!" Clorinde didn't even know she could raise her voice this way, "Because what else can I do? I killed Callas, I respected him so, and he was innocent! And I took his life! These hands! This blade! I even thought he did nothing wrong. But I still did. Why? For my own self that's why! For my own feeble honor. My own pathetic desire to be undefeated. I had to be undefeated. I had to enter the ring! I had no choice. But today, I threw a duel. I broke my streak! Is this enough? Callas!" She yelled to Celestia, "Shall I protect your daughter till I draw my final breath? Mother!" She yelled to the dirt below, "Shall I give up dueling permanently? Navia!" She stared straight again at the wide-eyed woman, "Shall I die here and now? Then, will your vengeance for your father be complete, and my honor restored? Tell me what I must do-"
"I don't want to die, you fool! When did you become crazy?" When did you become reasonable? "What I want, Clorinde, is to stand and Fight! Duel me! Here and now! Throw away all your inhibitions, and let us draw here not as Navia and Clorinde, but as two women looking for all they had lost. Throw that all away. Please.
"… How? You're… You're my friend." She pleaded, "How can I hurt you too?"
"… Tell me." Navia held her eyes low, "When you fought my father, despite everything you had known, did you hesitate for even a second?"
"… No"
"… Than, Clorinde, champion duelist of Fontaine, undefeated, honorable, don't you dare hesitate against me."
… After a shaky breath, Clorinde drew her blade. She finally knew what she had to do. "So be it. Navia Caspar, I will fight you with the same ferocity as I fought your father with that day."
Navia smiled, "That's all I've wanted."
The two women stood there, deadly intent evident, their sharp weapons drawn ready to strike. The wind blew heavily. The grass waxed and waned. The waves crashed against the shore. The storm clouds held themselves high in the sky. They were both still, frozen compared to the world around them, for nothing mattered now except the person they stared down. It was only them. They would end it all here and now, leaving everything behind.
As they both waited, from the sky, fell a single tiny droplet of water that fell directly onto the tip of Clorinde's hat-
The Duelist charged forward, going left and right, in a zigzag formation. Navia could barely make out her form from how fast she went. The grass between where she moved fizzled into sparks. Not even the wind could keep up. This was what it meant to be the champion. In a fraction of a second, Clorinde was before Navia, and she leaped half a dozen feet into the air. Reeling her weapon back, Clorinde aimed the tip of her steel directly at Navia's throat. She would end this in a flash.
Had Navia been a none-vision weirder, it would've ended right then and there. But at the last second, she dodged to the left. She took the chance to catch Clorinde's sword in the beak of her halberd, and yanked her to the floor, much to the surprise of the duelist. Taking advantage of her being thrown out of balance, Navia swung her halberd straight for Clorinde's neck, preparing to cleave it right off. However, the duelist managed to intangible her blade, and jumped back, barely managing to dodge it.
They both took a moment to catch their breath. It was clear, there was no room for error, or it would be death. But that fact was already known to both, as they charged at each other once again. When their breaths could be felt against each other, Navia swung her halbert, only for Clorinde to disappear. No, not disappear. Faster than the crack of a gun, the duelist moved quicker than the eye, appearing as though out of nowhere behind Navia. With equal momentum, Clorinde swung her blade, and Navia only managed to turn her eye back to futilely watch-
-as Navia stood in a rundown playground far away from any civilization, she aimed her figures like they were pistols, and fired at each individual star. She mirrored the same way her father would practice shooting at targets with a real one. It was the first day she had ever seen such a thing, and that childish curiosity got the better of her, and she asked him what it was. 'A gun', he said, 'a dangerous tool. Forceful, quick and unstoppable. Like the life we should live. Never settle for anything less than this. Be forceful, quick, and unstoppable. Never be quiet, a gun can't, so why should you? And similar to a bullet, life can be so quick, like a droplet of rain. You may think you know everything, all that your life entails, but in a flash-,' Callas drew his pistol from his hip and fired at a target, hitting it dead center, blowing it away. 'In a flash, everything changes, and it's all over. You have to be able to change just as quick, to move just as fast, faster than a shooting star, or else it will-"
-end. Navia knew if she didn't move faster than a shooting star her life would end. Not even Clorinde could've predicted the sheer speed to which Navia snapped her body and parried her blade. She had never seen anyone move like that. It was crazy. But she couldn't let herself get thrown off balance again. The duelist regained her footing and snapped back into position. She attempted to strike Navia on the shoulder, then on the knee, the heel, the hip, and a blow to her chest, all of which were deflected or avoided. Clorinde had, at least somewhat, thought that she was the far superior of the two in terms of combat. Whereas Navia spent much of her time taking care of her organization, Clorinde did seldom but duel. She thought it would be over already. Yet, as another strike was blocked, all that she thought began to shatter.
Navia knew this too. In truth, she had thought she was in over her head, challenging her like this. But that meant little now. For Navia was not some little girl. She was a grown woman. And she had much she could do.
Clorinde moved back and forth, going left and right, circling Navia constantly. If she could only find an opening in her defenses, in that rock wall that was before her, she could end this. If only she could be a little faster, and throw more blows out, then she could do it. Navia, in contrast, held her ground, she wouldn't budge an inch. Not for Clorinde, and not for anyone, as she waited for the precise moment to strike.
And that moment came.
Clorinde managed to graze Navia's shoulder and she stumbled. The duelist took the opportunity and went for her heart. In an instant, the blow struck and-
All of a sudden, a massive umbrella, the very same that Navia held on her person so often, opened up before her, splitting them apart. Her blade collided with the canopy, gliding over it as if it were made of metal. But Clorinde knew this was only half of what the gun-brella could do. She watched helplessly as from the center of the umbrella's end tip a massive influx of geo-infused elemental energy began to gather, and after only a moment, a hundred tiny orange elemental rocks spewed forth . Clorinde knew that if she didn't do something she would be-
-killed.' Clorinde said to the man she respected most in the world. 'If you take this duel, you'll most certainly be killed.' Callas smiled at her, hands cuffed in front of him, awaiting his trial for murdering his closest friend. 'If that's what must be. It would be an honor to be killed by the greatest duelist Fontaine as ever known.' Clorinde scoffed, 'That is crazy talk.' Callas laughed, 'The woman of reason comes again.' 'It's still not too late, Monsieur, you can still try to prove your innocence. Or perhaps flee.' 'Telling me to do something illegal? I have watched you practice and train to become a duelist since you were just a child, no older than my own, I would hate to see you throw it all away for my sake with words such as that.' It wasn't fair. 'What can I do… What could I do to make this injustice right?' 'You can believe I am guilty and let it go, that's all I've ever wanted from this.' It felt like a slap to the face. 'Or-' Callas went, '-you could protect Navia. The world is cruel and evil. I just want her to live a normal life. Maybe you could even be closest friends again like you were in the past. You've always been an honorable person, Clorinde, and this is all you've ever wanted. We can't always get what we want without force. Without taking it. Without someone dying. So fight me here and now, protect my daughter so she can be at peace, and forget me. I beseech you, make all thoughts of me from your mind be-
-forgotten. If Clorinde didn't protect herself she would become nothing but the duelist who died in some illegal, dishonorable fight out in the countryside, and be forgotten from history. She couldn't allow that. Raising her hands to her head and chest, Clorinde tried as best as she could to shield her vital organs, as a wave of sharp rocks hit her. The clothing on her body was shredded badly, and her skin was pierced all around. However, the rocks in her quickly diffused back into elemental energy, leaving open wounds for blood to flow from. Clorinde was sure she wouldn't bleed out from this, but still, it left her in deep pain. But she didn't have a moment to rest as Navia strode forward, cocked her umbrella back, and shot again. But now, knowing what it looked like, Clorinde disappeared in smoke as the gun-brella fired. She appeared a distance away, and from her hip, drew her own electro-infused firearm. However, as the rain began to pour so heavily that it covered all the land, Navia could hardly make out a thing. The only evidence of Clorinde's existence now was just a bright gleam of electro that shone like a beacon. However, that light faded away, and going by instinct, Navia turned around to see Clorinde before her, slashing her blade. She managed to block this one like so many others, but from her blind spot, there was a spark. With Clorinde's off-hand, she held a pistol directly to Navia's eyes, and she could only stare down the barrel of the gun before a bullet of electric energy shot forth, and she-
-stared at the gravestones she visited so often, mourning the loss of all those who died in Poisson. Silver, Melus, Callas, Clementine, and all the others, she mourned them. Navia would repeat to herself again and again what she would say to them, when her time would come as well, as Melus once told her. They would all end up here. And throughout half a millennium, thousands upon thousands have wound up watering the meadows of Poisson with their blood. She had read about a man named Renault de Petrichor, a former mayor of Poisson in a time long past, who stood where she stood now. He had defended against the besieging Fontainan forces, fighting to the bitter end, giving his life. Could she ever reach such heights? To face the weight of the entire nation, all for the sake of her people? Her father had died futilely, all his efforts to protect her fading away with time, and only through her own efforts and the immeasurable sacrifice of others did she and the Rosula survive. It wasn't enough to be equal to her father. It wasn't enough to gain the level of respect her father had. She must surpass him. She must be more capable than he ever was. She must be willing to bear the weight of a tsunami and never falter. She had to stand as tall as that man from so long ago once stood, independent and proud till the bitter end. Yes. That is what she had to do. She was Navia Casper, and she would fight until the-
-bitter end and nothing more would be her final destination, as the electro bullet from Clorinde's pistol shot forth at point blank. At the last moment when Navia regained her senses, she flung her shoulders back, just barely preventing her skull from being hit. However, it still snagged her, and as a throbbing pain emanated from her right eye, she imagined her father laughing at the prospect of them having matching eyepatches. He would first, of course, be angry. But let him be angry. He was rarely ever angry with her, and it didn't matter if he started now. She was alive. That's what mattered. As Navia held her umbrella back, building up all the elemental energy in her body for a grand attack, she would end this all in one go.
Clorinde could feel it in the air. The shifting of the wind currents. How the raging storm changed direction. Her opponent was preparing an attack. Such was the ability of vision wilders to manipulate reality. The duelist drew in a breath and steeled herself. It would all end here.
Navia clenched her teeth, opened her umbrella, and shouted, "Fire!" Materializing out of thin air, a dozen massive cannons appeared, shooting out chunks of geo-infused rocks the size of a person directly at Clorinde. Dozens upon dozens of them, each one with the ability to tear her into pieces upon contact. Truly, Clorinde had never faced such power before. Such an absolute death. If she was going to survive, she needed to exceed herself. She needed to go faster than she had ever gone before. She needed to channel more electro-elemental energy than her body could possibly handle. If she wasn't going to die here, if she was going to be remembered, she needed to be like-
-Mafisa, the legendary female Champion Duelist of an age past, had been killed in the line of duty. Clorinde sat alone, swinging her legs on the side of a railing of a broken-down playground, reading a book about the history of one Champion Duelist. Her mother would've never let her get her hands on this, and so she had to come to this secluded place, far from civilization. The book told of the famous Duelist Marfisa, a woman who lived over five hundred years in the past, during the time of the previous Hydro Archon. Marfisa, who had always lived a life of uphill battle, had been killed in the line of duty fighting a great threat. She had cemented herself in the history books as an honorable legend, never to be questioned. At one point, Marfisa dueled against another woman, a magician named Parsifal. Clorinde set down her book and hopped to the floor, making pretend as if she were that famous duelist, going against the great mage. She imagined as if she were swinging a spear, dodging fireballs thrown by her opponent. She was the honorable one who would face her enemies directly, while the other would rely on tricky and underhanded tactics to get their way, like how in the duel Parsifal allegedly used a cane to hide a secret dagger. What kind of crazy person would hide a weapon in a normal object? However, Marfisa could not be contested, and she killed the magician. Only she could do it. And just like Marfisa before her, Clorinde would do what only she could do. She would be uncontested, she would be unmatched, and her cup would be larger than any others. She, like Marfisa, would move like-
-thunder. Like thunder moving through clear water, Clorinde burst forth faster than sound could keep up, a boom echoing with every step. At the same time, massive geo boulders slammed into the earth, tailing her every move. Explosions followed behind her, a trail of rocks jumped into the air, and the world around the two women became colored in a collage of yellow and purple. Stars in the sky. The geo rocks that broke apart upon impact with the ground caused a mist of dust, like pillars of creation, tainting the air. The electro that followed Clorinde, like a shooting a blazing comet in the atmosphere, unstoppable, brighter than the rising sun. Rain continued to pour down, harder than ever before, as in a gust of wind like a tornado Clorinde took the chance to dash straight to her opponent. Navia saw this, just barely through the découpage, and braced. Finally, the two collided, and the world turned too-
-a wonderful dream. As Navia and Clorinde played in a broken-down playground, it all felt like a wonderful dream. Navia swung her legs back and forth on the swing, while Clorinde pushed her from behind.
"Higher!" Navia said through a toothy grin.
"Navia, you can't." Clorinde said with a shy glance, "You might get hurt."
"That's what makes it so fun!"
Unable to stop her friend, Clorinde heeded Navia, and pushed her until she ran parallel to the starry night sky. For a second, a brief second, Clorinde felt jealous of her friend. While Navia, swinging evermore, wished she could get this view from the ground. However, it quickly became apparent to both of them that Navia was going too fast.
"Clorinde! Catch me, I'm gonna jump off!" Navia yelped.
"Eeh!?" Clorinde gave a horrified look, as she stumbled in front of Navia's swing.
"Hold on!" Clorinde pleaded, "Can't you just slow down a bit!"
"Weeeeh!" Navia never heard her as she leaped into the air. For a second, from Clorinde's point of view, it looked like a poofy yellow angel descending into the earth from the sky above. However, as Navia began to fall, she realized it was actually as graceful as a bird with its wings plucked. Desperately, she reached her hands out, and the two of them collided with each other and fell to the ground. Though they weren't hurt, the wind became knocked out of Clorinde's lungs, and Navia straddled her from above.
"That was so much fun!" Navia yelled out to the world.
"G-get off…" Clorinde managed to say through an empty breath.
Navia sat up, and the two girls remained on the ground next to each other, and laughed. While neither had acted their age, with each other, they were nothing more than kids. They would play tag, board games, and do all the things children their age did. Indeed, they were the closest of friends in their youths.
"Clorinde."
"Yes?"
"Why are you friends with me?"
"… I don't know," Clorinde said, sheepishly.
"Is it because you love me?"
Clorinde became red. "L-love?" That girl sputtered, "But, we're both girls, that's not how it's supposed to go."
"Really? Good."
"Why is that?"
"Because," The young Navia said, "Daddy says he loves me. But he always keeps things from me. And lies to be. And never listens to me. And he acts very mean to me. So I'm glad you don't love me like daddy loves me."
"Oh. Yeah, my mom says she loves me. But, she can treat me very meanly sometimes. I don't like it."
"Woah, that sucks." Navia frowned.
"Y-yeah…"
"But, if it's not love, what is it then?"
"What is what?"
"Us. Here and now. I feel something, but I'm not sure what. That feeling when I'm with you. Do you have that feeling too?"
"I… I think so. I don't think my mom would like how I feel though."
"I don't think my dad would like it either."
"So, let's keep it between us." Clorinde insisted.
"Really? Sure! Awesome! Finally, a secret I can keep from my dad!" Navia yelled. Clorinde, too, felt a little happy at the thought of going against her mother.
"But," Clorinde continued, "What is it? If we are going to keep it between us, just you and me, then we should at least know what it is."
The two girls, in that broken down playground, in the light of the sun, thought. They put their little heads together, trying to piece about anything that could describe what they felt now, and at the same time, one word came to mind.
"I think it's-
-pride. Lions and their pride. As the two fighters met in a clash of steel, both their weapons went flying from their hands, unable to keep up with the strength at which they came at each other. However, that didn't stop them, nothing could stop them. And, without their weapons, they fought with their hands. Punching and kicking. They pulled on each other's hair and clothes. They spat and shoved. Eventually, they both fell to the ground, but they still fought. Clawing and biting at each other, they fought with all their soul. Neither would ever accept defeat. Family. Pride. Love. Status. Honor. Recognition. Visions. Celestia. Guns and cups. They left it all behind. As they rolled around in the mud, they fought like wild animals. It wasn't a dignified fight. Not at all. As all the emotions of years past crashed. Tears mixed with rain mixed with blood. Lions. They were lions.
Finally, as both women separated from each other panting like beasts, they ended up to where their weapons were. Clorinde picked up her sword, and Navia her halberd. With nothing stopping them now, acting purely on instinct, both women swung their weapons at each other.
Steel met steel.
A hiss held in the air.
One woman fell.
The rain stopped.
It was over.
When Clorinde opened her eyes, she realized it immediately, she lost. The duelist lay on her back, staring up into the cloudy sky, and Navia straddled her waist holding her halberd to Clorinde's neck. Her life was in Navia's hands, and as they cast their heavy breaths, Clorinde closed her eyes accepting her fate.
A second passed.
Then too.
Clorinde opened her eyes.
Navia smiled.
"I win."
Clorinde smiled, "Now we're even."
Navia laughed, and fell to her side, lying right next to Clorinde on the ground. She had won. She had actually managed to beat the Champion Duelist of Fontaine, the strongest vision wielder in the land. Do you see her now, Callas? Do you see what your daughter has become? Your daughter is great. Keep your apology, for there is nothing to be sorry for. Navia Casper was a child to be proud of. Clementine, you didn't die for nothing. Your daughter is strong. Your daughter can stand up for herself. Your daughter was happy. She could take on anything the world threw at her, and come out on top.
Navia cried to herself.
Clorinde laughed, too. She had lost. She, the Champion Duelist, had finally genuinely lost a duel. One she had meant to win. To the woman who stood yesterday, or three years ago, it would've been the most devastating thing to happen to her life. But, lying here, all she could do was feel satisfaction. It was over. She didn't need to be the strongest anymore to justify herself. To justify her existence. She wasn't the strongest, that didn't take away a single thing from what she was. It didn't make little of all that she did. She didn't need to win every fight, and that was okay. It was okay to not be able to take on anything the world threw at her. It was okay to not come out on top.
Clorinde sighed to herself.
They stayed like that for a little longer, before Navia stood up, and held an arm to Clorinde.
"Come on. Let's go home."
Clorinde took Navia's arm. The storm clouds had finally cleared, and in their wake, the rising morning sun gleamed over the dawn, casting a glow of light over the once-darkened land.
"I still can't believe I won." Navia said, "Guess I'm the champion now."
"Not so quick. We're one and one now. I'll get you next time."
"Then next time, we'll do it in a better place. How am I gonna be able to get all this mud out of my hair?"
As the two women laughed, they embraced each other hand-in-hand and stepped proudly into the new day.
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Author's Note:
Hello.
Thank you for reading through this 12,000-word long one-shot. In truth, I hadn't thought to write anything like this, but after playing through Navia's story quest recently, I felt a wave of passion flow through me. Most for this fic was created in a mere three days, with the only exception being the final act, which took quite a while to figure out. I hope you found it half as good to read as I found it to write.
There is just one more thing though. The one thing that stood out to even me while writing this was my swift reference to Brutus. Originally, it was going to be Judas, but I decided to change it. Why does a Genshin Impact character know about Brutus? I don't know. But the reference and symbolism was simply too good to pass up the opportunity. Just, imagine a traveling playwright stole Shakespeare's play Ceaser and brought it to Fontaine.
Thank you for the read.
Yours Truly.
A.A