This is kind of like Furina's story quest... but not at the same time cause I did it so long ago and I had to look up a summary for it😞I'm so sorry it's late .. but yea I'm trying . My new school is a lot😞.
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Quite a while passed since Furina's unexpected encounter with Arlecchino, and life, though quieter now, was far from settled for the former Hydro Archon. The days had taken on a slow, meditative quality as she wandered through the sleepy streets of Fontaine, her once-vibrant presence now a shadow of the grandeur she used to command. Each morning, she rose in her humble new home, sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains that did little to brighten the small, worn space. It was a far cry from the ornate chambers of the Palais Mermonia, but this new life—mundane, unremarkable—was the one she had chosen, or perhaps the one she had resigned herself to.

Her cottage, sitting on the outskirts of Fontaine, was a place of solitude. It stood apart from the hustle and bustle of the city, a stark contrast to the grand palaces and the Opera Epiclese, where she once ruled over performances as both audience and critic. The house itself was small, a whitewashed structure with a modest kitchen, a tiny living room filled with second-hand furniture, and a bedroom that overlooked the ocean. There was no grandeur here, no relics of her past, save for a single mirror on the wall—an object that had once reflected the image of Focalors, the Hydro Archon, but now showed only Furina, a woman who no longer knew who she was.

Each day, she found herself wrapped in routine. She cooked simple meals—macaroni and bread, mostly—tidied up the already spotless rooms, and then wandered through the surrounding fields until dusk. Sometimes she would sit on the cliffside and gaze out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the shore. The rhythm of the water was soothing, but also haunting. It reminded her of her former power, of the divine nature she had once embodied. Now, without the mantle of Focalors, the sea seemed distant, almost foreign. It was as if she had lost her connection to the very element she had once controlled.

Life was quiet, too quiet, and Furina wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. She had always thrived on drama, on the spectacle of the court and the thrill of performances. Now, she had neither. What she did have was an uncomfortable stillness, one that pressed on her like a weight she couldn't quite shake.

---

Meanwhile, the Traveler and Paimon entered the bustling streets of Fontaine, their footsteps mingling with the hum of the city's activity. The cobblestone streets were wet from an earlier rain, their polished surfaces gleaming under the midday sun. Vendors called out, selling everything from fresh fish to colorful pastries, and the air smelled of salt and baked bread. The duo weaved through the crowd, Paimon floating beside the Traveler as they made their way to the Adventurers' Guild, a familiar destination for the two.

Upon reaching the guild, they were greeted by the ever-reliable Katheryne, who delivered her usual greeting with practiced ease, her robotic voice smooth and professional. "Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. How can I assist you today?"

The Traveler and Paimon exchanged a glance before Paimon spoke up. "Any commissions for us today?" she asked, her voice as chipper as always.

Katheryne nodded. "Yes, there is a commission waiting for you," she said, gesturing to a man standing off to the side. "The commissioner is Lauwick. He is in need of assistance with a performance."

Lauwick was a frazzled figure, his nervous energy evident as he approached them. His clothes were simple but well-worn, and his hands fidgeted constantly, twisting the brim of his cap as he shifted from foot to foot. His eyes darted nervously between the Traveler and Paimon as he began to explain his situation.

"It's... well, it's our troupe," Lauwick began, his voice shaky. "We're supposed to perform one last show, but our lead actress has fallen ill. We don't have the money to hire a replacement, and if we don't find someone soon, the whole performance will be ruined." He wrung his hands together, his anxiety palpable. "This show means everything to us—it's our last chance to honor Aurelie's legacy, and we can't let it fall apart."

Paimon floated closer, her curiosity piqued. "Why not ask Furina?" she suggested, her eyes bright with the idea. "She used to love performing, right? Maybe she'd be willing to help!"

The mention of Furina's name caused Lauwick to freeze, his face paling. "B-but the Hydro Archon?" he stammered, clearly startled by the suggestion. "I-I mean, she's not really—"

The Traveler stepped forward with a calm, reassuring presence. "It's worth asking her," he said confidently. "You don't have many other options, do you?"

Lauwick looked torn, his hesitation clear. He had heard the rumors—whispers that Furina had retreated from public life, that she had become a recluse, no longer the vibrant, theatrical figure she once was. But with no other options, he gave a reluctant nod. "I suppose you're right. If you think you can convince her, it's worth a shot."

There was one immediate problem, however: neither the Traveler nor Paimon had any idea where Furina was living now. Fontaine's city streets were vast, and it would take ages to find her without help. Thankfully, Katheryne, ever resourceful, provided the answer. "Furina has taken residence in a small house on the outskirts of Fontaine," she said, pointing to a map. "Here's her address."

Armed with this information, the Traveler and Paimon set off on the path leading out of the city. The streets gradually became less crowded as they moved farther from the center of Fontaine, the bustling sounds of commerce and conversation fading into the distance. The houses they passed became smaller, humbler, until they reached the very edge of town where fields stretched out in every direction, and the sea glistened on the horizon.

Paimon floated beside the Traveler, glancing around in disbelief. "I can't believe this is where Furina lives now," she said, her voice tinged with incredulity. "It's so... ordinary. Such a huge step down from the Palais Mermonia!"

The duo followed a narrow dirt path that wound through a field of tall grass, the breeze rustling the golden stalks as they walked. Ahead, a small, whitewashed cottage came into view, its windows framed by wooden shutters and its roof slightly weathered by the sea air. Wildflowers grew in abundance around the house, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the simplicity of the building itself.

Paimon's expression was one of disbelief. "This is really where Furina lives?" she murmured, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

Before Paimon could voice more of her thoughts, the front door of the cottage creaked open, and Furina stepped out onto the porch. She was dressed simply, her hair loose and unadorned, her appearance a far cry from the regal garb she had once worn as the Hydro Archon. Her face was softer now, her expression more subdued, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she regarded her visitors.

"Is there something wrong with my new accommodations?" Furina asked, her voice light but teasing. The hint of amusement in her tone was enough to make both Paimon and the Traveler jump in surprise, clearly having been caught off guard.

Paimon, ever quick to recover, grinned sheepishly. "No, no! It's just... different, that's all!" she said, floating closer to Furina. "We weren't expecting you to be living in a place like this."

Furina's smile remained, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It suits me," she said simply, her tone nonchalant as she stepped back, gesturing for them to come inside. "You're welcome to come in if you'd like."

The interior of Furina's home was as modest as the exterior. The living room was small but cozy, with mismatched furniture and a bookshelf filled with well-worn books. A vase of fresh flowers sat on the windowsill, their vibrant petals adding a splash of color to the otherwise muted room. The scent of something cooking wafted through the air, and Paimon's nose twitched as she sniffed curiously.

"Macaroni again?" Paimon asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Furina chuckled softly as she moved to the stove, stirring a pot of pasta. "It's simple," she replied, her voice calm and almost nostalgic. "I like it."

The Traveler and Paimon exchanged a glance, sensing the quiet sadness that lingered beneath Furina's composed exterior. She had always been known for her theatrics, her love of drama and grandeur, but here, in this small, unassuming house, she seemed almost like a different person—quieter, more reflective.

As they settled into the living room, Furina served them tea, her movements slow and deliberate. Once they were seated, the Traveler explained the situation with Lauwick's troupe. He spoke of their struggles, of the ill actress who could no longer perform, and of the troupe's desperate need for someone to take her place. The performance was their last chance to honor Aurelie's legacy, and without help, the show would fall apart.

Furina listened in silence, her hands wrapped around her cup of tea as if she were drawing warmth from it. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. When the Traveler finished speaking, Furina let out a quiet sigh, her

eyes drifting toward the window, where the fields stretched out beyond the cottage. "Acting," she said softly, almost to herself. "I thought I had left that part of my life behind."

There was a long pause, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Furina set her cup down gently on the table, her fingers lingering on the delicate porcelain. "I'm afraid I can't help," she said finally, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of weariness. "I've played my part for too long. It's time for others to take the stage."

Her refusal wasn't sharp or dismissive; it was soft, almost resigned, as if she were simply too tired to step back into the role that had once defined her. The Traveler and Paimon could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of her past still clung to her. She wasn't refusing out of pride or arrogance—she was simply worn out, drained by the life she had once lived.

Paimon frowned but said nothing, sensing that this wasn't the time to push. The Traveler, too, remained silent, understanding the depth of Furina's exhaustion. After a moment, they both stood, thanking her for her time and understanding that there was nothing more to be done.

As they stepped outside and began walking back toward the city, Paimon floated beside the Traveler, her expression thoughtful. "I guess we'll have to tell Lauwick the bad news," she said quietly, her usual energy dampened by the weight of the situation.

The Traveler nodded, their thoughts lingering on Furina's quiet sadness, the way she had spoken of acting as though it were a burden she no longer wished to bear.

---

Back inside the cottage, Furina stood by the window, watching as the Traveler and Paimon disappeared down the dirt path that led back to the city. The silence that filled the room was heavy, and for the first time in a long while, Furina felt a strange sense of regret tugging at her heart. The idea of helping the troupe, of stepping back onto the stage, had stirred something within her—a faint echo of the passion she had once felt for the theater.

She had always loved acting, loved the thrill of performance and the way the audience would hang on her every word, every gesture. It had been a part of her for so long, woven into the very fabric of who she was. But now, in this quiet life she had carved out for herself, it felt distant, like a memory from another lifetime. Could she really step back onto the stage, even if only for one night?

Hours passed, but the feeling wouldn't leave her. She paced the small living room, her thoughts circling back to the troupe's plight. They were struggling, just as she was. They had lost their director, Aurelie, and without her, they were adrift, unsure of how to move forward. Their struggles mirrored her own, and in them, Furina saw a reflection of her own journey—lost, unsure, and seeking something she couldn't quite grasp.

Before she knew it, Furina found herself walking toward the city, her steps light and quick. By the time she arrived at the troupe's quarters, rehearsals were in full swing, though there was an air of tension hanging over the room. Lauwick was in the middle of an argument with Dulphy, the actress who had fallen ill. Dulphy, despite her sickness, was insisting that she could still take the stage, while Lauwick protested, clearly concerned for her health.

The Traveler noticed Furina lingering at the edge of the room and quietly motioned for her to join them. Reluctantly, she stepped forward, feeling out of place among the group of performers. The weight of the decision hung in the air, and for a moment, Furina felt as though she were being pulled in two directions—between the past she wanted to leave behind and the present that demanded her attention.

Finally, after a long pause, she spoke. "I'll help," she said, her voice soft but resolute.

The room fell silent. Lauwick stared at her in disbelief, and the tension that had gripped the troupe began to ease. They had been struggling for so long, unsure of how to honor Aurelie's vision, but with Furina's help, they felt a glimmer of hope.

Their journey to the small town of Poisson, where they were set to perform, was bittersweet for Furina. Poisson was a place that held many memories for her, both good and bad, and returning there felt like stepping back into a part of her life she had long since left behind.

But as the troupe prepared for their final performance, Furina felt something stir within her—a quiet reminder of the joy she had once found in the theater, and the realization that perhaps, just for one night, she could find that joy again.

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I FORGOT TO PUBLISH THIS PART IM SO SO SORRY...! I JUST CHECKED😭PLS FORGIVE ME!!
-Author