Free of worry at last, the family turned south.
The Court of Fontaine glittered under perpetual golden light, fountains singing, streets alive with color and music. Boreas and Elowen stepped off the aquabus wide-eyed, mouths open in wonder.
They had never seen anything like it.
Furina met them at the Palais steps, dramatic as ever, arms flung wide. “Welcome, my darlings! Today Fontaine is yours!” She whisked them straight to the most exclusive café in the city—Petit gateau towers, rainbow macarons, chocolate fountains that never ran dry. The twins devoured everything, cheeks smeared with cream, laughing so hard they nearly toppled from their chairs.
Paimon hovered nearby, arms crossed, cheeks puffed. “Hey! How come they get all the fancy desserts and I only get one macaron? This is unfair! Traveler, do something!”
The Traveler—standing a discreet distance away, ever watchful—only smiled. “Let them have it Paimon. They’ve earned every bite.” “This is sooo unfair!!!” Paimon cried.
Chiori appeared next, tape measure already in hand. “Hello young ones! I heard you are in town. Children of such interesting lineage deserve clothes to match.” Within hours she had sketched and promised two wardrobes—Boreas in sharp, wind-flowing coats of midnight blue and silver; Elowen in flowing dresses that caught light like water and moved with her every breeze.
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Emilie arrived with delicate crystal vials. “One for each of you,” she said softly. “My own blends. For Boreas—crisp pine, sandalwood and distant thunder, to ground your sight. For Elowen—jasmine and fresh rain, to remind your winds of gentleness.” The twins inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed in bliss.
Neuvillette waited last, at the edge of the Fountain of Lucine. He knelt—tall, solemn, yet unmistakably tender—and placed a hand over each child’s heart.
“You carry echoes of stars and storms,” he said quietly. “Yet you walk in light. May the waters of justice and mercy ever flow around you. You are welcome here, always.”
Boreas bowed awkwardly; Elowen curtsied with perfect grace, then threw her arms around the Chief Justice’s neck in an impulsive hug. Neuvillette froze—then slowly, carefully, returned the embrace.
The Traveler watched from across the plaza, leaning against a lamppost, arms folded. Paimon floated beside them, still grumbling about desserts, but even she couldn’t hide her smile when Boreas ran over to offer her a half-eaten éclair.
“They’re discovering the world,” Nicole murmured to Varka as they watched the twins chase glowing hydro constructs through the streets.
Varka pulled her close, chin resting on her head. “And we’re finally discovering it with them.”
That night, as fireworks painted the sky above the Court, Boreas and Elowen fell asleep between their parents on a wide hotel balcony—exhausted, sticky with sweets, dreaming of fountains and new friends.
No golden cracks marred the stars.
No shadows waited at the edges.
Only tomorrow—bright, open, theirs.
The family slept under Fontaine’s gentle rain of light, hearts full, fears forgotten.
For the first time in ten years, the future felt like a promise instead of a warning.

