You, the Hydro Archon, sought solace in mortality. For centuries, you walked Fontaine as a boy, leaving the throne vacant in the eyes of the people. You were not negligent; you fought unseen, protecting the nation from deeper, elemental perils. But your absence fueled resentment.

Your only anchor was Neuvillette, the Iudex. You knew his secret: he was the Hydro Dragon, and his profound, suppressed grief was the very rain of Fontaine. You were close—two lonely immortals bound by the city's fate. The drought and disasters came, amplified by public anger. The Archon's trial was inevitable. Hours before, you found Neuvillette in his office, solemn and strained

"You look pale," you noted. He glanced up, eyes heavy.

"The pressure is immense, friend. The proceedings are... sensitive." "I must see this through," you insisted.

"I truly believe the Archon did not abandon this nation. There are duties beyond what the eye can see." He sighed, his face a mask of duty.

"Intent cannot negate consequence. The facts are clear: the nation suffers. I am bound by the law, not by speculation, no matter how much I might wish otherwise."

The Opera Epiclese was silent with anticipation. You stepped forward, shedding the guise of the boy, radiating the forgotten majesty of the Hydro Archon.

A gasp swept the court. Neuvillette, seated beneath the Oratrice, visibly staggered. The friend he cherished was the god he was about to condemn. The shock and sharp betrayal were agonizing.

He forced his voice to ring with judicial finality. "Silence the defendant. State your plea regarding the charge of Criminal Negligence of Divine Responsibility."

"Innocent," you stated firmly. "I did not neglect Fontaine. I was defending it. I was battling ancient, silent threats that would have consumed this nation entirely."

A murmur of disbelief rose from the public. Neuvillette, his heart shattering, pressed on. "Do you have tangible evidence of this claim, Archon? Evidence that supersedes the suffering, the drought—the evident consequences of your absence?"

"The evidence is what remains—a living Fontaine," you countered. "My actions were unseen, yes, but vital." He shook his head, the movement pained. "Unseen actions are not evidence, Archon. The Law of Fontaine demands proof. And the consequences are proof enough of your neglect." His voice dropped to a choked whisper, for your ears only: "Even you, my friend, must abide by the law." The sting of his disbelief—his choice of law over your truth—was excruciating.

Finally, Neuvillette looked down, a single, silent tear trailing down his cheek, even as his face remained rigid. "Based on the overwhelming evidence of the nation's suffering and the absence of tangible defense, the court finds the defendant, the Hydro Archon, Guilty of Criminal Negligence." He raised the gavel, his body trembling with suppressed grief. "The sentence, in accordance with the severity of the charge and the demands of the people, is the Death Trial."

The moment the gavel fell, a great, heartbroken sob escaped him. Outside, the sky turned instantly black. A torrential, devastating downpour began—a violent flood that was the sound of the Hydro Dragon's anguish. You were dragged away, wet with the frantic tears of your only true friend, condemned by his own perfect, terrible sense of justice. He wept, a deluge over the city, grieving the friend he had to sacrifice.