"Come now, don't linger in the doorway like some brooding novel hero—we've much to do."
Lucien approached Louis, but before he could greet him, the sound of crying reached his ears.
Scanning the place he noticed a pack of parents and children huddling together, their clothes dripping wet.
Along were Gardes rushing by, handing out dry towels and doing their best to tend to everyone in need.
"What happened?" Lucien asked, concerned.
Clorinde stepped forward, her tone calm.
"Their homes were flooded unexpectedly. Based on the investigation, it's presumed the cause was yesterday's heavy rainfall," she replied bluntly.
"That…"
That doesn't make any sense. Fontaine is known for its rain, and plenty of heavy storms have occurred over the years.
In all that time, there had only been a handful of occasions when the water levels rose in those areas, but never to the point of flooding homes.
Something about this just doesn't add up.
"Ahem," Louis cleared his throat to get Lucien's attention.
"No need to dwell on that. It falls under the jurisdiction of the Marechaussee Phantoms. They'll handle the investigation."
"Marechaussee?"Lucien murmured. It had been a while since he heard that name.
It brought back fond memories of their master teaching them how to track and navigate the dense forest, and then, without warning, dropping him and his sister in the middle of nowhere.
Good times, truly even if a bit extreme. Still, it taught him survival skills he will never forget.
But returning to the matter at hand, the sight of people losing their homes weighed heavily on him.
"What will happen to them?" Lucien asked, his voice quiet, eyes softened with concern.
"We're awaiting Lady Furina's decision on where they'll be relocated," Louis replied.
Lady Furina, huh? Where is she, anyway? Lucien glanced around the room, scanning every corner—but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Speaking of Lady Furina, here comes Neuvillette he may have answers," Louis said, glancing toward the approaching figure.
"Lieutenant Louis," Neuvillette began speaking as he approaches. "I have just conferred with Lady Furina. The Opera Epiclese shall serve, for the time being, as a refuge for those displaced by the flood. Ensure the necessary arrangements are made with haste and care."
Louis gave a sharp salute. "Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette."
"What about the trials?" Lucien asked, stepping forward.
Neuvillette's gaze shifted to him. "May I ask your name, young garde?"
He doesn't remember me? Lucien thought. Well, of course not, I was just a child back then.
"Lucien sir," he replied.
Neuvillette's expression softened slightly. "So much you've grown since I last saw you, Lucien. As for the matter you've raised, I share your concerns. However, Lady Furina decided that the Opera Epiclese would be repurposed for shelter. Thus, all trials will be suspended."
What kind of decision is that? Surely there were other options. This nation runs on its court system—pausing the trials will create a massive backlog. And what about the power of Indemnitium? How will Fontaine run without the trials to sustain it?
Okay, don't stress out. Fontaine surely has plenty of Indemnitium stored away. Besides, it's not like any of that is his responsibility to worry about anyways.
"Monsieur Neuvillette, surely there must have been other options."
"Indeed," Neuvillette replied calmly, "but it is not my place to question the decisions of the Hydro Archon. Rest assured, this arrangement is only temporary. Now, if you'll excuse me—I have paperwork that requires my attention."
"I can't imagine how busy he must be," Lucien muttered under his breath, watching Neuvillette heading towards his office.
"Very busy," Clorinde responded. "More so than Lady Furina, from what I've heard."
"Right, Lucien—this would normally be the part where I officially welcome you," Louis said, his tone brisk. "But now isn't the time.
Louis quickly gathered a few things, returning with two items in hand.
"Here's your issued hat and baton," Louis said, handing him a finely crafted baton adorned with blue and gold accents. Alongside it, a blue regulation hat with the Gardes' emblem.
Lucien accepted the items, placing the hat on his head and securing the baton at his side.
But his uniform still clung uncomfortably.
"Be honest with me—do you have any uniforms that are comfortable?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Wearing that uniform is a great honor," Louis said, his voice full of pride.
"Right…" Lucien muttered under his breath.
"But if it's too tight, you can request a bigger size," Louis said with a shrug. "Though it'll cost you 10,000 mora."
Lucien nearly choked on air, the price hitting him so hard it felt like it pierced his very soul.
"Now, onto more pressing matters," Louis said, his tone shifting to urgency. "You heard Monsieur Neuvillette—we need to start relocating the people to the Opera Epiclese. As for you, Clorinde, take your squadron and begin patrol. The law must still be upheld, and the city kept safe."
"Yes, Lieutenant Louis," Clorinde replied with a respectful nod, turning and leaving without a word to Lucien.
"Ouch… no 'good luck, brother,' or anything? My heart hurts," Lucien muttered under his breath.
She heard him, but only murmured something in return, too soft for him to catch.
"What was that? I didn't hear you," Lucien said, placing his hand near his ear.
"C'mon, Lucien," Louis called, motioning for him to follow as he stepped forward to address the crowd.
"Yes sir."
"Attention, everyone!" Louis announced with a steady voice. "You will be temporarily relocated to the Opera Epiclese. Please remain calm and follow instructions."
The families responded with cries of desperation, their voices rising in waves of fear and grief.
"What about our homes? We've lost everything!"
"I spent my whole life saving to pay for that house!"
Dozens of others shouted in agreement, the clamor growing louder—until one voice pierced through the noise:
"This must be the prophecy coming true!"
A hush fell for a heartbeat—then panic erupted. The crowd swelled in chaos, fear spreading like wildfire.
"Please, calm yourselves," Louis tried to placate the crowd, but his efforts were in vain.
Lucien stood frozen—prophecy?
Right, one day Fontaine will be flooded, and its people with it.
Who even came up with these stories in the first place?
Sighing, he exhaled deeply and pulled a revolver hidden beneath his uniform. With a sharp motion, he fired a single round into the ceiling.
The loud gunfire echoed, silencing the crowd instantly.
Louis gave him a grateful nod.
"Now, as for your homes," he addressed, "my men are doing all they can to recover your belongings. Whatever we can salvage will be returned to you."
Louis did his best to keep the crowd from shouting again, but who could blame them? They'd lost their homes—hell, he would be furious too.
As for Furina.
If she were here, she could at least answer some of their questions.
Lucien sighed. First day on the job, and I'm already on the verge of mental exhaustion.
I haven't even done anything!