Moulin kept ti tight in his mind as he went and told Hadrian about Jagra's wish to join them in the expedition. It wouldn't actually affect the trip if one more person accompanied them as long as that person is capable of surviving the trip and has a good hand in fighting and facing malibreeds. Moulin's knowledge about Jagra's martial prowess was little.
He hadn't seen him train ever since he returned. This fact made him uncertain. But Jagra wouldn't be able to join the Leonile guild if he was weak.
However, Hadrian didn't seem to be too bothered about it. He threw a sentence, "If it's alright with you, then I will make adjustnts."
Moulin blinked in surprise. "Oh."
He was expecting sothing more arguntative, but this was better.
He mulled over Hadrian's quick reply until he arrived at Jagra's place to deliver the news. Jagra broke the glass he was holding and jumped to devour Moulin into a tight hug. Pola shouted when she spotted the drops of red on the floor.
"Thank you," Jagra whispered as he embraced Moulin. "I'm sure it wasn't easy to gain permission for . I apologize for troubling you, Moulin." Jagra felt guilty inside for involving his friend in his situation. He couldn't help but feel even more indebted to him.
Moulin patted his back with a smile. He furrowed his brows. "On the other hand, it was easier than I thought." He muttered, low enough for anyone not to hear.
Jagra: "...?"
Moulin couldn't stay long, for his brother was still waiting for him, and he didn't want to be late again. He declined Jagra's offer to accompany him, sensing that they would get another earful from Pola if he did agree. In the end, Jagra could only see him off as he departed.
As a few days passed. The barrier grew weaker and weaker—a significant amount of energy dissipating as each day passed. The scent of it attracted malibreeds from several miles away. Unrest arose as more people sensed the weakening of the very thing protecting them from the infectious land beyond the city's walls. The Lords knew they couldn't waste more ti anymore.
Under the endless rolling skies, garbed with tight and protective clothing, a young man stood before the balcony's stone railing. His hair tied up against his scalp, the rest of it cascaded down his back, just above the curve of his waist. A heavy sword sheathed, hanging on his belt. He looked like a young man about to explore the dark secrets of the terrifying wilderness.
Only, it wasn't a wilderness that he would be venturing but the whole world, eroded and enshrouded by darkness, where beasts lay awake in hunger.
The very thought of it made Moulin fearful, admittedly. However, knew more that to overco his fears was to face them. At this ti, there was no waiting for the weak.
"Are you ready?"
A deep voice spoke behind him. Its sound echoed inside the chambers of Moulin's heart. Turning, Moulin smiled faintly as he yanked his gaze away from the dark horizon. His eyes t those passionate golden pupils, so captivating and magnetic, almost sinful.
"Yes, I'm ready," Moulin said, approaching the man with a smile. "You look dashing."
The lord raised a brow. His hand reached for Moulin. His fingers intertwining with Moulin's. "I was trying not to be."
"Well, I say you look handso, unfortunately." Moulin sighed. He fixed his leather fingerless gloves with furrowed brows. "Where's Snow and Kier?"
"In the stables. They'll be ready soon."
Moulin nodded. He lifted his head and held Hadrian's cheek. "I should visit my father before I leave."
Moulin realized that during the last few days, he was too busy to visit his father. Moulin was worried. Although the nurse kept him inford, he wanted to see it with his own eyes, to see his father well and awake.
Hadrian understood Moulin's worry. There was still ti left before they go down. He didn't want Moulin to be in a hurry. He wanted Moulin to be prepared for the arduous journey ahead of them.
Hadrian gave a nod, "I'll fetch you when it's ti to go."
The youth's lips curled into a vibrant smile. Silver eyes brightened. "Okay, I won't take long-"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The loud noise ca from the entrance of the room. Moulin and Hadrian shifted their attention to the doors. Before the banging continued, Hadrian strode over with a heavy aura. He looked like he was about to murder soone. When he yanked the door open, a panting Emlen was there. Forehead sweaty and his grey eyes wide with impatience.
He was heaving hard as if he had just run a thousand miles without stopping. His knuckles turned white at his sides as he stretched his neck to look past the man.
"Where's Moulin?" Emlen said darkly.
"Brother..." Moulin touched Hadrian's chest as he neared his second brother. "What is it?"
"Co with ," Emlen said. He took Moulin's hand, gripped it hard before dragging him away.
Moulin didn't resist. He looked back to Hadrian, who was coldly staring at their forms. "I won't be long!"
When those words entered the Lord's ears, Hadrian sighed.
The sound of footsteps was loud. Emlen was silent as he led Moulin away through the halls. They stepped on a teleportation portal and passed through the familiar corridors. Moulin recognized this as the path towards his father's room. Suddenly, Moulin's heart drumd in anticipation. Did sothing happen to his father?
Finally, they arrived, heading towards their father's quarters. The tall form of Maxille was standing beside the doors with a concerned expression. The nurse was also standing beside him. This ti, Moulin didn't hide the unease in his face. He yanked his hand from Emlen's grip and dashed towards the doors. However, Maxille stretched out his arm to stop him.
"Moulin, wait," Maxille said.
"What is it? did sothing happen to father?" Silver eyes were layered with infinite distress. Moulin couldn't stop the fear from showing in his eyes.
His eldest brother, however, gave him a gentle smile. He patted Moulin's shoulder while he looked over the angsty other brother of his. "You scared him."
Emlen lifted his head, feeling accused. "I was running when you sent the news, and I was running again when you told to fetch Moulin. How was I supposed to look?"
Moulin's eyes blinked. He accidentally t the nurse's gaze, who gave him a calm smile. As though there was nothing to be distressed about. Maxille squeezed his shoulder, yanking Moulin's attention to him once again. The older man's eyes were calm, there was a bit of happiness in them.
"..?"
What is happening?
"Moulin..." Maxille began, soothing Moulin with his voice.
"Our father... he's awake."
...
It was like thunder had struck Moulin.
He felt his eyes grow wide.
Awake...
His heartbeat quicken, and his breathing seed loud. There was a faint tremble on his fingers as he stared, wide-eyed, at his eldest brother.
Awake?
Moulin subconsciously reached out to grasp his brother's sleeve. His grip tightens around the fabric. He spoke, "Awake?... What... What do you an?"
Maxille revealed a soft look. Sensing the shock within his little brother's eyes, he aid to make his voice as comforting as possible. "He's back... He can recognize us. He's regained his senses."
Silver pupils quivered. Moulin raised a hand to his mouth. Emotions ran chaotically inside him. Father is back.
He's back.
Then... Then... Does that an...
"Moulin..."
Before Moulin could sort out his emotions, Maxille called him out again. There was urgency in his voice as he continued. "He wants to see you."
Moulin stopped.
"Father?..."
"Yes," Maxille nodded. "We... We already told him. There's no need to feel nervous anymore."
The hand Maxille placed on Moulin's shoulder gently patted. He looked certain as if nothing would go wrong. The happiness in his eyes was evident. One could witness it at a glance. However, the nervousness Moulin felt appeared like an ocean's current plunging him down into the depths.
Is it really alright?
"It will be okay... " Maxille spoke. His eyes are soft.
Taking a step backwards, he gestured his hand to the door handles. Moulin's eyes slowly shifted from his brother to the handles of doors. He stared at it a good few seconds as if fearing it. He wasn't ready, but he knew he had to face his father sohow.
He reached out his hand. Delicate fingertips touched the wooden handle. Fingers curled around it.
A pull and a creak, air greeted him.
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