Chapter 19: Echoes

"Fenris… Fenris…"

The voice drifted through his mind like a fading memory — distant yet painfully familiar.

Fenrir's eyes snapped open, and there she was — Rose. Her face glowed softly, warm and comforting.

"Oh… it's you," he said with a weak smile. "How's your day going?"

"I've been doing alright," Rose replied. "How about you?"

Fenrir let out a dry chuckle. "Oh, you know… still stuck in stone." He tried to sound lighthearted, but his voice faltered. His gaze shifted past her, through the glassy barrier that separated him from the world, out toward the distant lake.

"You know… it's like a distant memory," Fenrir whispered, his voice hollow. "But it still plays on repeat — your death." His gaze dropped, heavy with regret.

"I killed you… to save you from the pain you were feeling. But it still hurts." His voice broke. "I'm sorry…"

His breath hitched, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"I failed you, Rose," Fenrir muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promised your father I'd protect you… and I couldn't."

"Don't apologize, Fenris." Rose's voice was soft yet steady, carrying warmth that eased the weight in his chest. "We humans… we're fragile creatures. Most of us spend our lives worrying about when our time will come, but I never cared about that."

She stepped closer, her blue eyes shining with a gentle light. "I just wanted to make the most of every second… and you made those moments better. You were there, Fen — in my darkest times and my happiest ones." She smiled softly, her expression full of comfort.

He clenched his fists, the pressure of his own guilt threatening to crack his stone-like exterior. "But it's hard to accept... I'm a god. I should've done better."

Rose's gaze softened as she reached out, her hair fluttering in the breeze, strands of gold catching the fading light. "Even gods can't control fate," she reminded him, her words gentle but firm, like a calm amidst the storm.

"I know…" His voice trembled, though his eyes revealed the depth of his emotion. Yet his stone form remained unmoving.

 He hated being alone. Rose had been the only thing that kept him tethered to life, the only warmth in his cold existence. But… she was gone.

"I guess I'm just fated to be alone."

"That's not true, Fenris." Rose's smile softened, and she stood, her white dress flowing with the breeze.

 She's out there. suffering too — feeling the same loneliness you are."

"I wish I could believe that," Fenrir murmured. His eyes drifted back to the sky. Being stone really drives someone crazy, huh?

There was a long pause before a gentle, warm voice called out to him.

"Fenrir..."

His eyes snapped open, wide and alert. Rose had never called him that before.

He turned quickly, but the warmth of her presence had vanished.

"God of Chaos," a voice whispered, its tone both warm and commanding, resonating with the weight of eternity.

"We have witnessed God's rise and fall, both good and evil, yet we answer the call of those who suffer. A new god will ascend."

Then, silence.

"I've lost it, haven't I?" Fenrir muttered.

Fontaine:

Furina lay peacefully in her bed, her breaths soft and steady. A stuffed teddy bear rested snugly in her arms, clutched close to her chest. Her light blue nightgown, delicate and flowing, draped over her as she slept soundly.

Morning arrived, and sunlight crept through her window, casting a warm glow across her face. The light caught her eyes — striking blue pupils shaped like droplets, one a pale sky blue, the other a deep, rich navy. Furina stirred, letting out a quiet yawn as she stretched her arms above her head.

With a tired sigh, Furina rose from her bed. Across the room, her orange cat, Pumpkin, lay curled up, soundly asleep, its gentle purring filling the quiet space.

Furina stepped toward the mirror, her gaze meeting her own reflection. The face staring back at her was not that of a powerful goddess — just a human girl, pretending to be one. For nearly 500 years, she had played this role, weaving a façade of confidence and control. But beneath it all, she was lonely — unbearably so. The weight of her exhaustion clung to her like a shadow.

Still, she straightened her posture, forcing her expression into something regal. No matter how heavy the burden, she had to keep playing her part.

She slipped into her gown, its flowing fabric adorned with shimmering blue gemstones shaped like water droplets. A crisp jabot sat neatly at her collar, and silver embroidery traced delicate patterns across the fabric. 

Furina adjusted her hat, ensuring it sat perfectly atop her head.

With one last glance in the mirror, she took a deep breath, trying to push aside the weight of her exhaustion. But before she could stop them, tears began to slip down her cheeks. She stood there, frozen, letting the moment wash over her, until, with the last of her willpower, she gathered herself. Wiping her tears away, she steadied her breath, then finally turned leaving her room.

Fontaine was as lively as ever, its streets bustling with energy.

In the Court voices filled the air as people gossiped among themselves. Furina couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation.

"Did you see the paper? They found a huge wolf statue underwater — wrapped in ancient chains. 

Furina strained to listen for more details, but a voice suddenly called out to her.

"Ah, Lady Furina," Neuvillette's voice cut through the chatter. "We have important matters to discuss."

"Ah, Neuvillette!" Furina called out, hurrying over to him, her eyes bright with curiosity. "What's everyone whispering about?"

Neuvillette turned to her, his expression composed as always. " archaeologists recently made a discovery," he said evenly. "It appears they may have the remains of a god."

Furina's eyes widened. "Wait… really?"

"They're still conducting their research," Neuvillette continued, his tone measured. "But there's a strong possibility that it was once a god — not from the Archon War, but from a conflict… one tied to the war that nearly destroyed Asgard."

"You mean… Ragnarok?" Furina's voice dropped to a whisper, her usual dramatic flair giving way to something far more serious.

"Yes, indeed," Neuvillette said with a nod, his tone firm. "But for now, we have more pressing matters to discuss."

Furina raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What is it?" she asked, falling into step beside him as they made their way to his office. The space was large and immaculate, the wooden desk at the far end commanding attention.

She settled into the chair, her posture poised yet attentive as Neuvillette began.

"Lady Furina," he started, his tone serious, "there's a troubling situation at hand." His gaze darkened, a hint of frustration in his voice. "More and more girls have been going missing lately."

Furina's expression remained unreadable, but she could sense the gravity in his words.

"I need your assistance with this," Neuvillette continued, his eyes locking with hers.