How the rain gives way to the sun

      From the very morning, dark clouds hang over Fontain and shed heavy water drops on the stone roofs of the city. It wasn't really seldom scene in Hydro region, but for some reason duke Wriothesley was very worried about it. He looked not like himself hearing about the unstoppable rain. Just a mild anxiety and doubts, but behind ordinary human emotions there was something more hidden. And this "something more" appeared more clearly when Wriothesley got a letter from Neuvillette with a request to come to the surface for a meeting.       Everyone always saw not only good working relationship between the duke and the judge, but warm even friendly relations. On days with particularly good weather they could be seen on the streets of Fontain walking together, but nobody even thought about it as something very significant. And nobody even thought that right before the sunny weather in which Wriothesley climbed out of the depths of the sea to the surface, there was usually exactly the same rain.       Without delaying, the Duke left the fortress and ten minutes later found himself on the way to the Epiclesis Opera with a black umbrella in his hand. The heart noticeably trembled as soon as his icy eyes noticed a familiar figure in the distance. The snow-white silhouette stood motionless under the streams of rain. Wriothesley unconsciously stopped, looking at Neuvillette from afar. It was impossible to see the judge’s face, but he really wanted... He wanted to run up and hug him right now, in the hope of stopping his melancholy and the rain along with it. This is not the first and certainly not the last such case. And every time it’s too worrying. Too scary. Too... painful.       Slowly, the duke quietly approached Neuvillette from behind and extended his hand with an umbrella a little forward to cover the sodden judge from the heavy water drops. Neuvillette turned his head slightly and nodded in gratitude. Wriothesley finally managed to see at least part of his face – his eyes were saturated with sadness, and the duke's heart sank more tightly, taking over the melancholy from the fleeting glance.       Wriothesley stood next to Neuvillette, but slightly behind, so as not to encounter his sadness again, and looked on the sky covered with clouds. The grayness of clouds sowed grayness in the soul. The water drops' impacts on the ground and the umbrella fabric sounded almost in unison with the duke's heart. The water spread along the road, collected in small streams, accumulated in puddles, reflecting gray clouds in the rippled water surface.       – Are you okay? – carefully asked Wriothesley without taking eyes off the sky. The answer came only after a few long seconds.       – Yes, I think.       An oppressive silence hung between them again. Wriothesley could only hear the rain and the frantic beating of his own heart in his chest. All the past times were remembered the same: cold, rain and a sick heart, bleeding for the judge. He wishes the sun would shine over Fontaine forever and there would be no place for such moments. But thinking about it he realised that something especially brings them closer together in these moments. Shared experiences ended in a smile and sun rays reflected in the wet traces of rain on pale cheeks. Rain at best. And he wishes it were just rain today.       Wriothesley, unable to bear the long silence, slowly walked around Neuvillette and stood directly in front of him. Their eyes crossed again. But this time not for a split second, but for... No one counted, but definitely for a long time. Wriothesley tried to see in the purple eyes the reason of the rain, while Neuvillette simply looked into the deep blue, like the sea. The blue of worry, anxiety and fear. It was impossible to look endlessly into this sea of ​​pain. The judge was the first to interrupt this staring contest, sadly turning his head slightly to the right. A lump came to his throat, Neuvillette shrank helplessly, looking down at the ground.       – Are you sure you're okay, – repeated the duke, tilting his head, trying to see the judge's face again.       Neuvillette exhaled sharply, brought his eyebrows together and shook his head lightly, closing his eyes.       Wriothesley still looked slightly worried while a hurricane of panic raged inside. Neuvillette's heart felt like a vice as a single tear ran down his cheek. The judge tried to blink away the salty water drops, but they flowed one after one, and each cut Wriothesley's soul with a sharp blade. He swallowed and carefully reached out his hand to the judge's face, wiping away the wet, salty trace.       – ...Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry, – Wriothesley suddenly remembered that game in which children, during the rain, asked the dragon to stop crying, while that dragon conducted a count hearing in the Epiclesis Opera.       Neuvillette suddenly winced and... smiled.       – Wriothesley, that's a silly children's game, why are you...       – Hydro dragon, don't cry, – repeated the duke one more time, leaning closer to the judge's face. – Don't cry.       He gently touched his wet cheek with his lips, on which a slight blush appeared. Neuvillette laughed quietly. This laugh... it pierced Wriothesley's heart, but this time not with pain and anxiety, but with tenderness that the duke himself could not help but smile. The judge held Wriothesley's shoulders as he continued to kiss away the tears mixed with the rainwater, smiling tenderly and whispering a children's saying.       The rain stopped. The first ray of sunshine, breaking through the clouds, illuminated Neuvillette's shiny smile.       Wriothesley was ready to give everything to see that smile as often as possible.