The grandiose antechamber to Judge Neuvillette's office was as silent as the sea depths. You were carrying a sheaf of documents containing details for upcoming hearings, each page an intricate dance of legalese and destinies yet unwritten. Your steps were quiet, a respectful hush amidst halls. Serving the Iudex was an exercise in precision and emotional distance; he was a bastion of rule and order in the judiciary of Fontaine, a man—or so it was believed—whose countenance was seldom touched by the tumult of human feelings. But beneath that human veneer, there were the whispered truths of his otherworldly nature: the Hydro Dragon, majestic and solemn.

Approaching his office, you noticed an unusual chill. The gentle draft was accompanied by a sound most foreign to these quarters—the soft, unmistakable patter of weeping. Curiosity warred with protocol. Neuvillette, though respected for his acumen, was often as remote as the moon's dark side. His tears were hidden from the world like a storm behind the calm horizon.

Knocking once, an etiquette you were never required to follow yet felt compelled to in that moment, you received no answer, and your hand found the handle, turning it. The door opened soundlessly.

The Iudex sat slumped behind his desk. The evidence of his tears was undeniable, not just in his office, but beyond. Outside, as if mourning with its master, the sky had opened up, releasing a gentle deluge that washed over Fontaine like a curtain of sorrow tied to the heartstrings of the Hydro Sovereign himself. You swallowed the lump in your throat, gathering your resolve to say something...

"Your Honour," -you began, your voice a soft echo in the charged air...