The resonant echoes of leather boots reverberated through the area as Ghana, adorned in splendid silver armor, strode purposefully. The sentinels lining the hallways saluted her with due respect, their eyes betraying a mix of moisture and wistfulness as they bid farewell to their closest comrades, soon to join the Falowright alliance.
Amidst the farewells, well-wishes perated the air, with prayers uttered for the safe return of their companions. Ghana, traversing the corridors of the military building, felt the weight of lancholy enveloping her.
The ceremony had just ended, and while many were sad to say goodbye, the uplifting words of High Lord Hadrian's speech lingered in the air, kindling a fiery resolve within them to eradicate evil and secure the freedom of all races. They will destroy the source of the malibreeds and restore peace in Corhan.
Amidst this solemn backdrop, Ghana continued her walk, guiding her steps toward a secluded room guarded by two sentinels who saluted her before granting her access. She intended to personally escort Jagra, unwilling to entrust him to another. Jagra was a vital source that would help them find the dark island dwelling of their enemies.
Because of the spell Gale had imprinted on him, the alliance decided to hand Jagra over to the seers of Falowright. They will be able to cure him of the curse that damned elf had put him under.
The door opened to reveal three familiar faces within the room. It seems Jagra wasn't alone.
"Lady Ghana..." Elegantly dressed, Colahn, the Head Seer, greeted her. He was casually leaning on the wall just beside the door. Weariness was evident on his face from the dark circles under his eyes.
Blinking, Ghana returned the greeting and turned to see Jagra patting the head of Erthyl, the half-blind child currently trying his hardest to hold his tears back. Jagra looked healthier for a few days now.
The boy looked quite pitiful that Ghana had the urge to comfort him.
Jagra softly reassured Erthyl, "Don't worry. I will send Moulin your goodbye. You will et again soon so there is no need to feel sad. He is needed for sothing extrely important: to protect you and everyone living peacefully in this city. Don't cry, alright? Everything will be just fine."
Erthyl sniffed and nodded with a down-casted gaze. His eyes are red, but he willed himself to believe Jagra's words. Yes, they will be fine. They will co back for him.
Jagra smiled and said a few words before Colahn took Erthyl away. Other than having puffy red eyes, the child looked quite tired and sleepy.
"Good luck, Captain." Colahn nodded to the esteed female sentinel.
After saying their goodbyes, Colahn and Erthyl finally left the two alone. With a helpless sigh, Ghana's blue eyes fell upon the man sitting on the bed.
Jagra spoke, "Did you hear?"
"Hear what?" Ghana raised a brow as she strode towards the plate of biscuits on the bedside table. She took a whole piece into her mouth. Loud crunching noises sounded within the quiet room.
"Moulin's father is awake."
Ghana paused. She turned away, nodding slightly while continuing her chewing, "Yes. Did you hear from Colahn?"
"No, I heard from the people outside. Their gossips are so loud, I could hear them all the way here."
Oh. So these soldiers had the ti to gossip while shedding so tears. Impressive.
"It's a pity Moulin isn't here to witness it. When we cross paths with him, we can share the details," Ghana proposed.
"No. Forget it. His excellency, Lord Hadrian will tell him." Jagra stated firmly, simultaneously grabbing clothes from the closet and hastily packing them into a worn-out bag.
Suddenly, Jagra raised a concern. "And Pola? Have you talked to her?"
The female sentinel who sat on the bed stopped and nodded. "Yes... She... She's brimming with tears. I regret that she couldn't co to visit you and Moulin. Nevertheless, she asked to convey so words to both of you..."
There was a few seconds of silence before Ghana continued. "Be careful and co back safe..."
A faint smile filled Jagra's wistful face. He nodded. His heart ward significantly, and he couldn't help but tease his friend. "And what words did she leave you?"
Ghana froze. She coughed and turned away with red ears. Pretending to clear her throat, she muttered. "It's... It's a secret."
This earned her a laugh from Jagra.
The two continued to converse until Jagra finished packing. When they exited the room, the two guards followed them from behind.
Jagra cast a hesitant glance in Ghana's direction as they walked together. He suppressed the words that were on the verge of escaping his mouth, but eventually, his furtive glances did not go unnoticed.
"Is there sothing you want to say?" Ghana looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Jagra pursed his lips and finally spoke, "The elf. Gaile-"
"They already escorted him out. You won't et. I know you don't want to see him. So don't worry, he has already arrived in Falowright."
Jagra paused and furrowed his brows. "I see..."
The man turned silent, and a woeful expression filled his face. Ghana glanced at him suspiciously. No. He can't possibly be worrying for that bastard?
After all that elf did to him? It was unforgivable. There should be no sympathy.
When they arrived at the inner courtyard of the building, a sudden commotion greeted them.Drawn by the disturbance, the duo observed a contingent of sentinels strolling past them unhurriedly.
A courageous and formidable energy enveloped the individuals. It appeared as if they were advancing towards a battleground, their spirits tinged with the hues of years spent enduring hardship and shedding blood. Despite this, a tranquility radiated from their expressions.
Jagra and Ghana imdiately recognized them.
The twins, Troid and Tyve. Their seniors in the Leonile Guild and a few of the first to welco them. Both had striking features and stunning sapphire hair, clad in black attire. Tyve possessed vivid green eyes reminiscent of a lush grass field, while Troid's were lighter and brighter, resembling a glistening sea.
Compared to when they were once imprisoned in an underground fortress destined to beco orc at, their health remarkably improved. Leading a small group, the twins effortlessly parted the crowd as they approached.
Out of the blue, Tyve felt a gaze upon him and turned his head. His eyes drifted towards Jagra and Ghana, who froze under his stare.
Tyve's eyes brightened, and he elbowed his brother, who shot him a glare before following Tyve's gaze. Troid's blue eyes softened, and he waved at the pair.
In response, Ghana and Jagra returned the gesture with a brief smile and nod. Their interaction was short-lived, as the twins were eager to guide their people to the portal platform.
Jagra sighed, "Just how many of us would be crossing the portal? I fear there will be fewer people to safeguard the city."
"That's not true. Don't underestimate the will of our people. They are survivors, and many of them have done great service to our city." Ghana refuted.
Jagra smiled and turned to observe the sentinels surrounding him. With a nod, he spoke. "Yes, you are right."
...
Heavy footfall sounded within the hallways, perceived by the perception of Moulin's two guards. The man did not attempt to hide his presence, allowing the two to recognize him imdiately..
Tessley silently opened the doors of the young master's quarters and received High Lord Hadrian's presence. Bearing an oppressive aura, the man stepped into the room unhurriedly. A pair of golden pupils scanned the room for a certain person. Unfortunately, he didn't find him.
"He is asleep, my lord." Sir Ordan confird Hadrian's thoughts.
"Has he eaten?"
"Yes, he has."
Without another word, Sir Ordan led Hadrian to the bedroom.
However, Hadrian did not find the young man on the bed. Instead, he found him asleep on the window seat, nestled on a few small cushions with a book on his chest.
The little snow-white fox that curled itself on Moulin's stomach blinked awake, sensing the presence of the two people within the room. Round beady eyes glanced at the two figures curiously.
anwhile, Moulin was in deep slumber. Enchanting silvery white hair frad his face, cascading down the pillows. Under the light, his white flowy shirt faintly showed his pale skin underneath the thin fabric. Steady breaths and parted lips. He looked so peaceful, making one think it was a sin to wake him up.
Ordan didn't realize he was staring intently.
Hadrian approached the young man with soft steps. Snow didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence at the mont. The little fox was too comfortable, surrounded by his master's warmth.
The High Lord's eyes softened significantly, and he finally found relief after working during a busy morning. His fingers carefully reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind the youth's perfect ear.
"You're still here?" Hadrian's voice was deep and harsh.
The mont his words ended, Ordan flinched, snapping back into reality. He noticed his error and lowered his head. "Forgive , my lord."
"Do I need to remind you of your oath?"
"No, my lord."
"Leave."
Ordan's pupils trembled slightly and nodded hopelessly. He was careful to soften his steps as he left the room. For a split second, he attempted to steal a glimpse, but the High Lord's broad back shielded the sight of the youth from him. He was careful to soften his steps as he left the room.
...
"Mn..." A faint moan sounded from the slumbering youth.
Long lashes fluttered open, revealing a pair of captivating silver eyes. The longer Hadrian stayed, the more his presence thickened, probing him awake.
"It's ti to wake up." This ti, his voice was softer, carrying a hint of tenderness.
Moulin blinked until his vision cleared. When he saw the man kneeling beside the window seat, he sighed. "You're finally here."
"Mn, I am late."
Moulin shook his head while he stretched his arms. When he attempted to sit straight, Snow hopped down, wagging his tail with a tilt of his head. His beady eyes reflected the images of his two masters.
Moulin didn't know how long he had fallen asleep. However, Hadrian comforted him by confirming that it was still morning. He assured Moulin that he had only dozed off for a brief period, and there was still an hour remaining before the scheduled eting with the imperial council.
"eting?" asked Moulin while he narrowed his eyes. "I was not inford."
"I've co to inform you personally," Hadrian stated as he guided Moulin out of the room, his hand resting on the youth's slender back.
Moulin scanned the room and realized that Ordan was nowhere to be found. Tessley strode over him, carrying a large ornate chest in her arm, and presented it to him. "A servant sent this. These are the clothes you need to wear when presenting yourself to the council."
Moulin ca over, and his hands hesitantly hovered on the clasps of the box. It wasn't anything lavish, was it? With a click, he opened the lid gently.
Dazzling white. Moulin almost wanted to shield his eyes. The gems and sequins sparkled brightly, stitched skillfully on the silken fabric. Although Moulin didn't mind the color but, the design...
The pants seed acceptable, but the top...
The neckline dipped lower to the waistline, and the sleeves were translucent and sparkling. The sashes showed an iridescent shine when exposed to the light. The jewels were complete
'The clothes were finely made... for an aphrodite...' Moulin declared inwardly.
"It would be impolite to reject a gift from the King, right?" Moulin inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Because I'm definitely not wearing this."
Tessley released a deep breath, "Oh, good. I knew you wouldn't agree. Ordan went out to voice his complaints. Honestly, do they really see you as nothing more than a pretty thing to admire?"
Moulin's lips thinned. He was a bit pissed. Perhaps, they were attempting to win him over by displaying their riches, hoping to influence his behavior and keep him in line.
Hadrian smirked and slowly whispered in the youth's ears. "It's a good thing I ca not emptyhanded."
Moulin blinked and turned to face him, "What do you an?"
A devilish smile graced the lord's impeccable face. Oh, how Moulin loved this look.
"Perhaps we should demonstrate how a genuine couple presents themselves?"
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