"To ensure the survival of the people of Fontaine," Aether continued quietly, "the second Hydro Archon, Focalors, spent an immeasurable amount of time in deep contemplation—until finally, she devised a way."
"In truth, the Seven Archons of today—what we call the Seven—are more accurately titled the Seven Sovereigns of the Mortal Realm. And the divine thrones they hold draw their power not from Celestia but the ancient elemental dragons."
"In Fontaine's case, the Chief Justice, Neuvillette, is the newly reborn Hydro Dragon. In theory, he holds dominion over the primordial authority of the water dragon, greater even than the power of Celestia's Sustainer. That means he alone has the potential to absolve Fontaine's people of their so-called 'sins.'"
"But there's a problem. Part of that dragon authority was extracted by Celestia and reforged into the Archon's divine seat. That's why Focalors's plan… was to destroy the divine seat of the Hydro Archon altogether."
Furina gasped silently.
Aether's expression remained calm as he went on."It was a near-impossible plan, and the hardest part came in three aspects. First, she needed a power source strong enough to destroy a god's throne. Second, she needed the new Hydro Dragon—Neuvillette—to agree to absolve the people of Fontaine. And third… she had to make sure no one ever realized what she was doing."
"But Focalors had solutions to all three."
"The energy source? The Equity Fusion Power generated by the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the machine that everyone believes judges guilt. In truth, Focalors diverted the vast majority of that energy and stored it inside the Oratrice itself."
"Appointing Neuvillette as Fontaine's Chief Justice? That wasn't for show. It was so he'd grow fond of the people, come to understand them… and, when the time came, willingly grant them absolution."
"And the last part—making sure no one realized Focalors had disappeared…"
Aether looked at Furina meaningfully.
"…Do I need to explain that part to you, Furina?"
Furina trembled. Her breath hitched in her throat as she finally looked him in the eyes. "So that's it… That's what it all meant. But… why? Why did you tell me all this? I—I wasn't meant to know… Now that I do, the plan—what's going to happen to the plan?"
Aether didn't respond with words.
He simply pulled her into an embrace.
"It's okay. It's alright, Furina. Celestia won't find out. Focalors's plan will succeed. Everyone in Fontaine will be saved."
"At the very least," his voice softened even more, "you don't have to keep pretending around me anymore. Not here. Not now. In front of me, you're free, Furina. And I'll be with you. Always."
His words were like the breeze of spring, like the blue sky stretching endlessly above—things Furina had longed for but never believed she could have. And then, without warning, she broke down.
She cried.
Loudly. Unrestrained. As if she were tearing out years of sorrow, confusion, helplessness, and loneliness all at once. It was not the dignified weeping of a god, but the soul-baring anguish of a girl on the brink of collapse.
She cried until her throat hurt, until she coughed, until her voice grew hoarse.
And Aether? He said nothing more. He didn't offer shallow comfort. He just held her tighter.
There's a saying—that when you're so lonely, so completely abandoned, crying becomes pointless. No one will care. No one will come.
Aether had never believed that.
And as he held Furina now, he believed it even less. Her grief was real, her pain deep—but so was the worth of her tears. Not because they demanded sympathy. But because, sometimes, crying was the only way to keep from breaking.
Eventually, as her sobs subsided, Aether handed her a small bottle. "Here. Drink some water."
Furina didn't question where he'd gotten it. She just took it, drank a few sips, and then—only then—realized what she had done. Her cheeks flushed, pale to pink, pink to red.
She turned to look at him. "...Thank you."
She didn't say what she was thanking him for—his words, the truth, or the embrace. Maybe all of them.
But a girl's blush often says more than a thousand words. And in that moment, Furina was unmistakably flustered. Perhaps she'd never been this close, this physically vulnerable, with anyone before.
Aether, noticing her expression, couldn't help smiling. So she does have good emotional recovery skills, he thought with a hint of amusement.
But now… was the perfect time to take the next step.
He reached out his hand and said with a warm grin, "Don't mention it. Come on—let's go outside."
Furina hesitated. Her fingers twitched in his, but her eyes dimmed slightly.
She didn't want to return. Not so soon. Even knowing the truth, the idea of going back to Fontaine—to the Opera Epiclese, to the familiar weight of performance—brought back a strange unease. It was a place where her every word and gesture had been a lie.
Still, she knew she had no reason to stay behind. Even if she didn't want to return… eventually, she must.
So, she took his hand.
And the moment their hands touched fully, warmth spread through her fingers and into her chest. She squeezed his hand back, almost without realizing it.
She had gone far too long without the comfort of simple human contact.
Aether didn't know that. He simply assumed she was still scared.
…When Furina opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a sea of stars.
"Wait, aren't we going back to Fontaine?" she asked in surprise.
Aether blinked. "You want to go back already? I mean, I could take you now, if you really want."
That's when Furina realized—he hadn't said "Let's go back." He'd said, "Let's go outside."
And she'd misinterpreted.
Now she felt awkward. "I… I… I'm not quite ready yet…"
Before she could finish, Aether cut in with a calm smile. "I'm a bit tired. Can't send you back right now. Let's just rest here a while. Look at the stars with me, okay?"
He said it so seriously, as though he hadn't just claimed a moment ago that he could take her back.
Of course, Furina knew what he was doing. She looked at him, her gaze lingering, as if she were trying to etch his face into memory.
"…Alright. Let's rest for a bit."
So, high atop the ruins of Stormterror's Lair, the two of them sat together on a platform Aether had made with Geo energy, gazing up at the brilliant stars above.
Teyvat's night sky was breathtaking. And though Aether knew much of it was a fabrication… under this quiet starlight, with Furina at his side, it felt real enough.
"Furina," he said softly, "look up. Isn't the night sky beautiful?"
"You know… there's a saying. That when people die, they become stars in the sky. Watching over those who are still living."
"That's why the stars shine so brightly. Because each one is someone who loved… and who still loves. They've never truly left us."
"So don't be afraid. The ones you've lost—those who aren't by your side anymore—they're still with you. Just… in a different way."
His voice was like a lullaby, barely above a whisper.
Furina's voice trembled. "…Really?"
"Really," Aether replied, even gentler now. "And from today on, you're not alone anymore. The people you've lost… and me—we all know the secret you've kept hidden. And we'll all stay by your side."
Furina said nothing. She simply leaned closer to him.
Then, after a moment of silence, she gently guided his head into her lap.
"You said you were tired, didn't you? Then rest," she said softly.
Aether looked up, surprised, and met her eyes.
Her cheeks were scarlet. But she didn't look away.
They simply stared at each other.
Until finally, Furina couldn't hold the gaze any longer. She turned away, flustered. "I just… I'm just worried you're tired. Don't read too much into it."
Aether chuckled. He had never seen this side of Furina before. How adorable.
And in that moment, he became even more determined to pursue the path ahead—to keep walking with the ones he cared about, no matter how much of a scoundrel he might become in the process.
"I know," he said simply, smiling.
And for reasons she couldn't explain, Furina's heart fluttered wildly at the sight of his smile.
She looked away again, staring up at the stars.
Aether didn't tease her further. Some moments were better left quiet.
So the two of them sat there, beneath the false yet beautiful sky of Teyvat, watching the stars in silence.
...
For both of them, it would become one of the most unforgettable nights of their lives.