March 15

The days began to blur into weeks, each one marked by Arlecchino's growing presence in Furina's life. The Harbinger's shadow seemed to stretch longer with every passing moment, following Furina wherever she went. Despite Furina's attempts to distance herself, Arlecchino always managed to insert herself into the young Archon's day, whether through subtle gestures or outright interruptions.

Every morning, Furina awoke to find a small bouquet of roses placed just inside her door. They were always blue, vibrant and fresh, their scent filling the air. The sight of them made Furina's heart ache, their meaning unspoken yet painfully clear. They were a reminder of the past she wished to forget and the bonds that had once tied them together. Yet, for reasons she could not explain, she never threw them away. Instead, she carefully arranged each bouquet in a vase by the window, letting the flowers become an odd yet constant part of her confined life.

The sound of footsteps in the hall drew her attention. Moments later, the door opened, and Lian stepped inside, their expression calm but warm as always.

"Furina," they said gently, closing the door behind them. "Still writing?"

Furina gave a small nod, offering them a faint smile. "It's the only thing keeping me from losing my mind completely."

Lian chuckled softly, walking over to the painting table and examining one of her recent works. "You've been productive, though. These are beautiful, truly."

Furina stood and walked over to join them, her movements graceful as she picked up a brush and absently twirled it between her fingers. "I'm glad someone appreciates them. I doubt Arlecchino does."

Lian frowned slightly but didn't comment, instead gesturing toward the painting. "This one—where is it supposed to be?"

"Fontaine," Furina replied softly. "A place I used to go to think. It's peaceful, isn't it?"

Lian  nodded. "It is. You've captured it perfectly."

Their conversation continued for a while, Lian offering quiet companionship that Furina found comforting. They never pressed her for information or treated her as anything less than an equal, and she cherished their presence. But as the hours wore on, Lian glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed.

"I'm afraid I have to go," they said apologetically. "I've been reassigned to patrol another part of the estate tonight."

Furina's expression faltered, but she quickly masked it with a nod. "I understand. Be safe, Lian."

"You too," they said, offering her a reassuring smile before slipping out of the room.

Left alone, Furina returned to her desk, her heart heavy. The silence was oppressive, and the thought of Neuvillette's imminent rescue was the only thing keeping her grounded. She didn't know when he would come, but she clung to the hope that it would be soon.

Just as she reached for her journal again, the door to her room creaked open. Furina froze, her hand hovering over the desk as her gaze snapped to the doorway. Arlecchino stood there, her piercing eyes scanning the room before settling on Furina.

The Knave stepped inside, her movements smooth and deliberate as she closed the door behind her. She wore her usual attire—a sharp, dark ensemble that exuded authority—and her expression was unreadable.

"Painting again, I see," Arlecchino remarked, her voice low and velvety as she walked further into the room.

Furina straightened, her grip on the edge of the desk tightening as she watched the Harbinger approach. "It's not like there's much else to do," she replied, her tone cool but wary.

Arlecchino stopped beside the painting table, her gloved fingers trailing along the edge as she examined Furina's work. "You've improved," she said, almost idly. "It's impressive, really. A shame you never had the time for this in Fontaine."

Furina didn't respond, her heart pounding in her chest as Arlecchino's gaze flicked back to her. The Harbinger's lips curved into a faint smirk, and she stepped closer, her presence commanding and suffocating.

"You've grown more beautiful, you know," Arlecchino said softly, her tone carrying a hint of something unsettling. "It's almost a pity you're wasting your time here, locked away. But then again..." She leaned in, her face mere inches from Furina's, "perhaps you're exactly where you belong."

(^^^FORESHADOWING!!^^^)

Furina flinched, her breath catching as she forced herself to meet Arlecchino's gaze. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound composed.

Arlecchino tilted her head, her smirk widening. "Do I need a reason to visit? After all, you're my guest."

"Guest?" Furina repeated bitterly. "Is that what you call this?"

Arlecchino chuckled, the sound low and almost predatory. "Call it what you will, Furina. But I must admit, I enjoy our little interactions. There's something... captivating about watching you try to keep your composure."

Furina's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her frustration and fear bubbling beneath the surface. She wanted to shout, to demand answers, but she knew better than to provoke Arlecchino further.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Arlecchino stepped behind her, placing her hands on Furina's shoulders. Furina stiffened, her breath hitching as she felt the Harbinger's grip tighten ever so slightly.

"You're so tense," Arlecchino murmured, her voice a dangerous whisper. "Relax, Furina. You're safe here, as long as you behave."

Furina's jaw tightened, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm. But when she felt Arlecchino's fingers brush against her neck, tipping her head back gently, her composure cracked.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

Arlecchino's smirk returned, and she leaned down, her lips brushing against Furina's ear as she spoke. "Everything, my dear. Everything you have to give."

Before Furina could respond, Arlecchino's lips pressed against her neck, a calculated and possessive gesture that sent a shiver down her spine. Furina's eyes widened, and she froze, her mind racing as she struggled to process what was happening.

But as quickly as it began, it was over. Arlecchino straightened, her expression as composed as ever as she stepped back. "You should get some rest," she said, her tone almost casual. "Big changes are coming, and I'd hate for you to be unprepared." Laying a blue rose next to Furina's hand, she played a small kiss on her hand.

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Furina standing there, her heart pounding and her mind reeling.

————-

One warm March afternoon, Furina found herself in the estate's sprawling garden. The humid air was laced with a faint hint of spring, and the garden's dormant beauty stirred something inside her. She knelt by a row of flowers that had begun to wilt, her delicate hands brushing against the soil as she carefully pruned the leaves and coaxed the plants back to life.

The quiet of the garden was a solace, a rare escape from the watchful eyes of her captors. For a brief moment, Furina allowed herself to relax, her focus entirely on the flowers. She hummed softly to herself, her fingers stained with earth as she tended to a bush of delicate white blossoms.

"You have a gift for this," a low, familiar voice said, breaking the stillness.

Furina froze, her breath catching as she turned to see Arlecchino standing a few steps behind her. The Harbinger was watching her intently, her sharp gaze softened by an unreadable expression. Dressed in her dark, imposing attire, she seemed out of place amidst the serene beauty of the garden, yet her presence was impossible to ignore.

"I didn't know you cared about flowers," Arlecchino remarked, stepping closer.

Furina stood quickly, brushing her hands against her dress to remove the dirt. She was wearing a simple yet elegant gown, the soft blue fabric flowing around her like water. Her short hair was unbound, and a faint flush colored her cheeks from the cool air.

"I care about them because they can't harm me," Furina said evenly, meeting Arlecchino's gaze. "Unlike some people." She said eyeing her slightly before turing her focus back to the flower bed.

Arlecchino tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Always so sharp, my dear Archon. But I'm not here to harm you. I simply wanted to see how you're spending your time."

Furina narrowed her eyes. "I doubt you came here out of simple curiosity. What do you really want, Kanve?"

The Harbinger stepped closer, her boots crunching softly against the gravel path. She stopped just a few feet away, her imposing presence making Furina feel smaller than she liked. "Must you always assume the worst of me?" Arlecchino asked, her tone almost teasing. "I've given you roses, haven't I? Isn't that a gesture of goodwill?"

"Goodwill?" Furina scoffed, her voice rising slightly. "They're a reminder. Of the past. Of what you've done. Do you think I don't see through you?"

Arlecchino's smirk faded, her expression turning more serious. "Perhaps they are a reminder," she admitted. "But they're also a promise."

"A promise for what?" Furina asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her efforts to remain composed.

"A promise that I'm not done with you yet," Arlecchino said softly, stepping even closer. Her gloved hand reached out, brushing against Furina's cheek, but the young Archon jerked away, her eyes blazing with defiance.

"Don't touch me," Furina hissed, her heart pounding.

Arlecchino's eyes darkened, her hand falling back to her side. For a moment, the tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. But then, to Furina's surprise, the Harbinger took a step back, her lips curving into a faint smile.

"You're stronger than I remember," Arlecchino said quietly, almost to herself. "But strength can be fleeting, Furina. Remember that."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance. Furina stood there, her hands clenched at her sides as she tried to steady her breathing. Her cheek still tingled where Arlecchino had tried to touch her, and her mind raced with conflicting emotions.

After a few moments, she turned back to the flowers, her movements mechanical as she resumed her work. But the peace she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a lingering unease that she couldn't shake. Arlecchino's presence had a way of unsettling her, leaving her questioning her own thoughts and emotions.

As the sun began to set, casting the garden in hues of gold and pink, Furina finally stood and dusted off her hands. She glanced toward the path Arlecchino had taken, her expression a mixture of determination and fear.

"I won't let her control me," she whispered to herself. "Not again."

With that, she turned and made her way back to the estate, the bouquet of roses on her windowsill waiting for her like a silent reminder of the battle she was fighting—not just against Arlecchino, but against the memories and emotions that threatened to consume her.

.......

The estate lay silent, shrouded in the deep stillness of the late night, save for the occasional whistle of the wind brushing against the windows. Furina lay in her bed, her thin satin blanket draped over her as she stared up at the ceiling, unable to drift into slumber. Sleep was elusive these days. The walls seemed to press in on her, the weight of her captivity gnawing at her fragile nerves.

Her restlessness was interrupted by a sound. A low, muffled thud. Furina froze, her sharp ears straining to pick up any more noises. Moments later, another sound echoed down the hall—a crash this time, louder, unmistakable. Glass shattering.

Furina sat up, her breath uneven,her throat feeling tight as she sat upright. The noise persisted: something heavy falling to the floor, followed by an anguished scream that sliced through the silence. She recognized the voice.

Arlecchino.

The scream was raw, guttural, full of anguish and frustration, unlike anything Furina had ever heard from the composed Harbinger. It sent shivers down her spine. Curiosity, mingled with trepidation, pulled her out of bed. Wrapping herself in a silken robe, she padded to her door and opened it cautiously.

Pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders, she cautiously stepped out of bed and opened her door. The hallway was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the windows. The noise grew louder as she stepped out, her bare feet were silent against the wooden floors as she moved toward the source of the commotion. Her breath hitched as she made her way toward the source of the commotion.

The noise grew louder the closer she got. Glass breaking. Heavy thuds. A guttural scream of frustration. It was coming from Arlecchino's quarters.

Furina hesitated, her instinct telling her to turn back, to retreat to the safety of her room. But a pull of curiosity—and perhaps a touch of concern—drew her forward. At the end of the hall, the door to Arlecchino's private quarters was ajar, a warm light flickering from within. As Furina drew closer, the sounds became clearer: the splintering of wood, objects being thrown, and Arlecchino's voice, strained and filled with fury.

Peeking through the small gap in the door, Furina's breath caught. The room was in chaos.

At the center of the destruction stood Arlecchino, her figure heaving with every ragged breath. Her coat had been discarded, and her long, dark hair hung in disarray, strands sticking to her damp face.

The room was in complete disarray. Furniture was overturned, books and scrolls lay scattered across the floor, and shards of broken glass glittered in the dim light. At the center of the destruction stood Arlecchino, her figure heaving with every ragged breath. Her coat had been discarded, and her long, dark-white-red hair hung in disarray, strands sticking to her damp face. her back to the door. She was gripping her hair with both hands, tugging at the strands with a force that made Furina wince.

Her broad shoulders heaved with every ragged breath, and her voice was filled with an uncharacteristic desperation as she yelled into the empty room.

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BRING BACK MY MEMORIES!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the room. Her hands flew to her hair, gripping it tightly as she dropped to her knees amidst the wreckage. "WHY DOESN'T THE STUPID POTION WORK?! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER?!"

Arlecchino screamed, her voice cracking. In her hand, she clutched a potion bottle, its contents glowing faintly. She raised it above her head and hurled it against the wall with a furious yell, the glass shattering into hundreds of tiny shards.

She turned abruptly, and Furina's gaze fell to the floor where the Hydro Gnosis lay, its blue hue glowing faintly amid the wreckage.

Furina's eyes widened as she noticed something glinting on the floor near Arlecchino. The Hydro Gnosis lay there, its soft blue glow flickering like a dying flame.

Arlecchino reached for it with trembling hands, cradling the Gnosis like a lifeline. "This... this should be enough," she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers curled around it tightly as if afraid it would vanish. "I've tried everything—everything! Why doesn't it bring the memories back?!"

Her voice broke, and a sob escaped her lips, raw and unfiltered. Furina had never seen Arlecchino like this before—vulnerable, unraveling before her very eyes.

Unable to stop herself, Furina pushed the door open further, the creak drawing Arlecchino's attention. The Harbinger's head snapped up, her red-rimmed eyes locking onto Furina. For a moment, there was no recognition in her gaze, only raw emotion. Then her expression twisted into something harsher.

"What are you doing here?" Arlecchino demanded, her voice sharp despite its hoarseness. She staggered to her feet, towering over Furina as her dark eyes burned with intensity.

"I heard the noise," Furina said cautiously, her voice trembling. She took a hesitant step inside, her gaze darting to the Gnosis. "What... what's happening? Why are you—"

"You shouldn't be here," Arlecchino cut her off, her tone cold and dismissive. She turned her back to Furina, clutching the Gnosis tightly as if it might slip away.

"Get out," Arlecchino growled, her tone laced with venom.

But Furina stood her ground, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "I'm not leaving," she said, her voice wavering but resolute. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

Furina didn't move. Something about the rawness in Arlecchino's voice kept her rooted in place. "Arlecchino," she began again, her voice softer, "what are you trying to remember?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for a long moment.

Arlecchino laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that sent shivers down Furina's spine. "You wouldn't understand," she spat, her lips curling into a sneer. "You couldn't possibly understand what it's like to have fragments of a past you can't piece together, haunting you like ghosts."

"Then explain it to me," Furina shot back, surprising even herself with her boldness. "Tell me why you're so desperate to remember."

The Harbinger's eyes flashed with anger, and she took a step forward, her presence oppressive. "You want to know?" she hissed. "Fine. I'll tell you."

She gestured wildly to the mess around her. "I've spent weeks—months—trying to bring back the memories. Memories of a time before this—before you. Before everything fell apart."

Her voice cracked, and she ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "I think I cared for you once. I think I... loved you." The word hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken emotion. "But I can't remember why. I can't remember how. And it's driving me mad."

Furina's breath hitched, her chest tightening at the raw confession. But before she could respond, Arlecchino's expression hardened, her vulnerability replaced with cold anger.

Arlecchino turned to face her, her dark eyes narrowing. "I'm trying to remember you," she said, the words spilling out like a confession. "Or rather, the version of you I knew before all of this. Before the flood. Before the stage. Before..."

She trailed off, her gaze falling to the Gnosis in her hands. "But it's useless. Everything I try—every ritual, every potion—it's all meaningless. I can't piece it together. It's like... like there's a wall in my mind, and no matter what I do, I can't break through it."

Furina's breath hitched. "Why does it matter so much to you?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Because-...." Arlecchino stopped herself, her jaw tightening. She looked away, her hands trembling as she set the Gnosis on the table. "You," she snarled, her voice cutting like a blade. "You stand there, looking at me like I'm some kind of monster. But you don't understand what it's like to live with this void in your mind."

Furina's voice trembled as she spoke. "I do understand," she whispered. "Because I lived it. I lived through the moment you tore everything away from me. The moment you killed me on that stage and left me to drown in the flood."

Arlecchino's face twisted with something unreadable—anger, guilt, anguish all rolled into one. "I..." she began, but the words caught in her throat.

Furina took a step closer, her voice trembling with fury. "And now you want to remember? You want to piece together the fragments of what you destroyed? Maybe it's better if you never remember, Arlecchino. Maybe it's better if you live with that void, because it's nothing compared to the pain you caused me."

The words hung in the air like a dagger between them. Arlecchino froze, her eyes widening in shock.

"You took my Gnosis," Furina continued, her voice rising. "You betrayed me after we shared something—something I thought was real. And then you left me to die."

Furina's heart ached at the raw emotion in Arlecchino's voice. For a moment, she saw past the Harbinger's icy exterior to the wounded soul beneath. But before she could say anything, Arlecchino's expression shifted, hardening into something cold and distant.

The Harbinger's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed like she might lash out. But instead, she turned away, her shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion.

Without another word, Arlecchino stormed out of the room, leaving Furina standing amidst the chaos, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. The faint glow of the Hydro Gnosis cast an eerie light on the destruction, and Furina felt a deep sadness settle over her.

"This is pointless," Arlecchino said, brushing past Furina. "Go back to your room, Furina. And don't meddle in things you don't understand."

With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Furina standing amidst the wreckage. The faint glow of the Hydro Gnosis lingering its eerie light in the chaos, and Furina felt a deep sadness settle in her chest.

She sank to her knees, her trembling hands resting on her knees. As she cradled it in her palms, tears streamed down her face, mingling with the memories of a past she wished she could forget.

As she turned to leave, she couldn't shake the image of Arlecchino's broken expression. Whatever had happened between them in the past, it was clear that the memories haunted them both in different ways. And as much as Furina wanted to hate her captor, a part of her couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman who had once, perhaps, loved her.

—————

Furina sat at the ornate desk in her room, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows. The golden light caught the strands of her short, silken hair, which had been growing out slightly since her captivity. Loose waves framed her delicate face, accentuating her porcelain-like skin. Her appearance had changed subtly over the past few weeks—her features seemed softer, her eyes held a quiet depth, and an ethereal elegance surrounded her. Even her captors couldn't help but notice that Furina, despite her situation, grew more beautiful by the day.

Before her, a journal lay open, its pages filled with neatly written thoughts and sketches. A small ink pot rested nearby, the tip of her quill gliding effortlessly across the paper as she poured her heart into her writing. Furina's painting supplies sat on a table across the room, brushes and half-finished canvases scattered about. Painting had become her solace—a way to escape the suffocating walls of Arlecchino's estate, if only in her mind.

Her quill paused, trembling slightly in her hand. Furina stared at the words she had just written, her delicate fingers pressing against the edge of the desk as she drew a deep breath. She began to write her thoughts and events that had happed the past few weeks since she was abducted from her office. She wasn't sure how much longer she would last in the room that caged her from the life she long to have back, but she was sure that no matter what, her older brother would come to save her.

Dear Me – March 16

How long has it been now? Days? Weeks? Time blends into itself in this forsaken place. The cold, silent halls echo with my footsteps, a reminder of my solitude even when surrounded by people. But it's not the solitude that haunts me most—it's the memories. They claw at the edges of my mind, refusing to let me rest.

I tell myself that Neuvillette is coming, that he's out there right now, piecing it all together. He's sharp—sharper than anyone. He must know. He must have figured it out by now. Lianis told me he was closing in, that he had already sent word to the estate. But every passing second without him feels like an eternity, an unbearable weight pressing down on me.

Neuvillette will come for me. I know he will. He must. I can only wait, but the waiting... it feels like it stretches forever. I paint to pass the hours, but my thoughts always return to him.

I don't know how much longer I can endure this. Arlecchino... she is relentless. She lurks, always nearby, always watching. Her presence is suffocating, and her moods swing wildly—one moment calm, almost civil, and the next, a storm of anger and violence.

That night, when I heard her down the hall, her screams still ring in my ears. She was tearing apart her own room, crying out about memories she cannot retrieve. I saw her clutching the Hydro Gnosis, her fingers trembling as though it might slip away. The sight of her like that should have made me feel something—sympathy, perhaps, or even pity. But all I could feel was fear.

And then she saw me. I should have run, I should have turned back, but I stood frozen like a child caught in the act of some forbidden deed. The way she looked at me—like I was the source of her torment—it sent shivers through me.

I told her that night what she did to me, what she took from me. I forced her to hear it, to know the truth. But she... she didn't care. Or maybe she did. I can't tell anymore. She lashed out, not just with words but with her fists.

I still feel the sting of her nails on my cheek. It's almost healed now, but every time I catch my reflection, I see the faint scratch and remember the way her voice cracked when she screamed. "It was supposed to bring back my memories!" she yelled, like I was to blame for her failures.

I hate her. I think I hate her. And yet, I can't seem to escape her. Is it cause I love her...? Or am I simply in love with this mess?

Even now, as I sit here in this room, I know she's somewhere nearby. She leaves me bouquets of roses—blue ones, of all things. It's as if she's mocking me, reminding me of the night she struck me down and left me to drown. I want to crush those roses beneath my feet, to scream and tear them apart. But instead, I take them and place them in a vase because I don't know what else to do.

Arlecchino isn't the only one in this house who frightens me. Her so-called "family"—Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet—watch me, too. They always seem to know where I am, what I'm doing. I overheard them once, whispering about me, about my older brother (Neuvilette). They know he's coming, and they're planning something. I don't trust them. I can't. Though the less threatening things are my paints and my dearest friend Lian.. a guard here-..

And Lian... oh, Lian. The one light in this dreadful place. They've been my only source of comfort, my only friend. They helped me wash the blood from my cheek, and the tears from my face. They sit with me when I can't bear to be alone, their presence steady and reassuring. But even they can't protect me. It was nice to have a friend, but good things don't always last long... it was only a matter of time before it's taken away.

Arlecchino ordered Lian away yesterday, and I haven't seen them since. I hate how powerless I feel without them. I hate that I've grown so dependent on them.

Today, I tried to keep busy. I painted for hours, letting the strokes of my brush distract me from the weight of it all. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept returning to Neuvillette.

Does he think of me? Does he wonder where I am, if I'm safe? Or has he moved on, resigned himself to my fate? I don't believe that. I can't. He's too loyal, too steadfast. He promised he would always protect me, and I have to believe he'll keep that promise.

But what if he's too late? What if Arlecchino's madness drives her to finish what she started all those years ago?

I want to scream, to cry, to tear this room apart as she did that night. But I can't. I have to hold myself together. I have to believe that Neuvillette will come.

So, I wait. And while I wait, I paint. I pour every ounce of my hope, my fear, my longing into the canvas, each stroke a silent prayer for rescue.

Neuvillette, if you can hear me, please... hurry. I don't know how much longer I can endure this. I don't know how much of me will be left by the time you arrive.

I'll keep waiting, but the waiting... it feels like it stretches forever.

-Sincerely, Furina, the last Hydro Archon...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She set the quill down and closed her journal, leaning back in her chair as she gazed at the unfinished painting across the room. It depicted a serene landscape—a waterfall cascading down into a glimmering pool, surrounded by vivid flowers and lush greenery. The scene was inspired by her memories of Fontaine's most tranquil places, places where she once felt safe.

"If only... if only the little Oceanid could be free—to live as a true human rather than a bird trapped in a gilded cage, forced to exist for the amusement of others. Always on display, always performing tricks, just another spectacle in someone else's grand show..."

——————
Yaya another post<3!!! I figured I'd post twice this week yk? <3!! I wish every a happy new year and happy 2025!! I know great things will come out of this next year! Ty for all the reads and love shown for my fanfics!!! <3!! AND PLS STOP READING MY EIMIKO ITS SO BAD😭😭😭😭 love you my little lake Lillies<3

-Lady Furina De Fontaine~