The air is chilly within the quiet lounge illuminated by warm light. Hadrian's refined face showed a subtle but noticeable hint of exhaustion, which did not escape Moulin's gaze. The youth looked at him worriedly, approaching the man with long strides. Snow did not leave the couch and snuggling on the warm cushions while observing his two master.
That reminds him... Where was that big black beast that always follows him around?
Warm hands rested upon the youth's waist, slightly pulling Moulin closer.
In Hyantor's eyes, the esteed High Lord appeared like a pitiful puppy, enjoying the attention of his master's concerning touches. No matter how much he looked, he was still in disbelief. It was phenonally disturbing. The rchant lord's face was filled with unease.
He cleared his throat, catching Moulin's attention. "Ahem, I apologize for the late-night intrusion. However, there are important matters we must discuss. It isn't the perfect ti, but preparation is key."
Moulin tilted his head. "What matters do you wish to address, my lord?"
With a raised brow, Hyantor responded. "Why, the matter of the next eting, young master. I'm certain you don't want to be a cornered mouse once Lord Magan has finally thought of a way to contradict all of our argunts. I reckon the old bastard is probably babbling at the crown prince right now. He may be old but his sches are shalessly clever."
Moulin frowned. Just thinking about the annoying face of the councilmber at the table, made his blood boil.
Seeing the conceding look on the youth's pure countenance, Lord Fridal Hyantor smiled. He placed his bare hands on his waist and spoke. "Now then, let us begin..."
Before Moulin could speak, a flash of light filled his vision. His body felt astonishingly light for a split second before gravity returned him to the ground. Lord Hadrian's arm is wrapped around his waist, holding him close as they teleported to their destination.
The air was warr now. Having a closer look at his surroundings Moulin realized they had appeared in a wide room filled with marble bookshelves embedded into the walls. Giant branches, with small steps on their wood surfaces, curled around the walls. Blooming roses and delicate buds covered most of its body.
A do glass ceiling revealed a stunning view of the night sky. Thousand of stars twinkled like an endless sea of gems. It was an illusion. Moulin was almost fooled by its beauty.
The room was warmly illuminated by a single crystal chandelier, shining upon their forms. It's like an ancient library. The overall atmosphere is one of serene beauty and intellectual charm.
"Finally, you are here." A soft voice reached them.
Moulin raised his gaze and spotted a familiar woman with stunning pale blue, descending from the staircase. She slides her hand on the wooden railing. Her fingers, brushed the little flowers as she moved.
Lady Klaria ignored Hyantor, who had made himself comfortable upon the wide chaise sofas and approached Moulin with a bright smile. "Co and sit. Do you like tea?"
Moulin blinked and nodded. He and Hadrian settled themselves as Klaria appeared with a tray of freshly brewed tea. It was the first ti Moulin witnessed the Lady like this. Quite different than her sister.
But... Why was he brought here?
"Now..." Lady Klaria slightly squinted her eyes. "My dear, let us delve into our most important matter..."
Moulin swallowed unconciously, glancing at Hadrian who frowned at the teacup in his grasp.
Lady Klaria continued, "We have discussed it and I have decided to support you. Your selflessness during the eting was comndable, and I hope to see more of that trait in you. What are your true feelings on the matter?"
Moulin paused. He hesitated briefly before responding. "Nervous..."
"I understand." She nodded. "There is a great burden you must shoulder. But you are our truest hope against defeating our enemies and ending this war. Your divine mana is a powerful weapon. Now, tell ..."
Lady Klaria approached him from behind his seat. "Did you not discover this for so long? Were there tis that you questioned? Strange experiences?"
The youth's slender brows furrowed. "What do you an?"
"Even seers of our famous temples have experienced visions. They hear their god's preachings in their sleep. Feel them in their spirits. Have you not experienced those things?"
The mont her words ended, Moulin froze. Unconsciously, he gave a glance at Hadrian who t his gaze calmly. Seeing how calm he was, Moulin furrowed his brows. Whatever decision he would make, Hadrian would nonetheless think if it was either approving or not.
Why was she asking him this? Moulin tries to hide the concern on his face.
"I... have heard voices." Moulin softly answered. He tries to see through the woman's intentions.
His words roused interest in the lady's eyes. "Oh? If you do not mind. Can you guess whose voice it was?"
"What do you want to know from asking this?" Questioned Moulin with a frown.
With a smile, Lady Klaria placed her hands on the table and leaned closer to him. "By clearly understanding your divinity's origins, we can use this knowledge to pull people to our side."
"How?"
"At tis like this, where death lurks every corner and darkness tries to devour our world, it is not surprising for people to cling to even a tiny bit of hope. The people need the courage to believe we can win this war. The holy temples have sacrificed everything for a miracle. Unfortunately, none of the Gods have answered them. People are losing hope.
Young master, to raise their spirits and to motivate our warriors. Do you not think they need sothing to strengthen their bonds with the upper realms?"
What?...
The more he listened, the more Moulin felt nervous.
"Tsk. Do you see how you're beginning to scare him?" Lord Hyantor raised a brow at the female High Lord. His lips are stained with the murkiness of wine.
Klaria ignored him. She straightened herself and sighed. "I shall make my words concise... Young master, we want you to beco a holy patron."
Moulin's eyes widened. "What??"
Lady Klaria only responded with a smile. Her deep eyes are curved while assessing the youth's surprised expression. "Are you nervous?"
Why wouldn't I be?! Moulin looked at her as though she was crazy.
From the distance, Hyantor chortled loudly.
A patron?
Moulin had never seen himself as so religious saint. It was the first ti he had even heard of such a thought. It sounded almost absurd. He didn't have true faith.
"I know you are confused." Lady Klaria took a seat beside him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Her voice, like her touch, was soothing.
"Anyone would be. Your path is unlike those of the certitudes of priests and seers who follow a clear, established path. However, unlike us, you are much closer to the gods. You have their divinity. Blessed with the likeness of their mana. It is like fate.
You are destined for sothing montous."
Fear began to creep into Moulin as he listened. "You think I am destined for sothing great?"
"I believe so."
Silver eyes dimd. "My destiny is not as virtuous as you think. "
Lady Klaria paused.
Moulin continued. "Did you forget that I am to be the sacrifice for the revival of the Demonic Creator? When I perish, he will eat my soul and gain the power he once lost. The key to Corhan's demise. How could I possibly be fit to beco a patron? And to which God?"
Lady Klaria sighed. "No, I haven't forgotten. But that is why I asked. I know you are not what I think you are. No ordinary talentless maeruthan could possess divine spirit and power so suddenly." She narrowed her eyes. "I heard from a dear friend.
That you were prophesied to have three deaths."
Moulin flinched. He felt his back grow cold.
Seeing his reaction, Klaria pressed on. "Another thing I learned is that you have gained the trust and heart of a prominent God in Artheia. You willingly beca a God's vessel. Did you think these experiences are normal for a re pured maeruthan? The pured do not live as long as normal maeruthans. The longest any has survived is twenty years.
I am sure you are aware of this, and yet here you are, alive and well."
Her expression turned serious. "And to beco a God's vessel, one must be cleansed of all impurities, strip themselves of their worldly desires, and commit themselves as patron of their God. But you have loved freely and your hands are stained with blood. There is sothing different about you. And it is best to stop hiding it now."
Moulin frowned, silently wallowing in his thoughts. The lady's words were true. What more could he hide? He knew from the start that it was only a matter of ti before his actions would arouse suspicion.
After a long mont of silence, he sighed. "What do you wish to know?"
Lady Klaria exhaled deeply, quite relieved. In the corner of her eye, she noticed Lord Hadrian slowly staring at her with a terribly cold gaze. She tried to relax. Fortunately, Moulin was being compliant or else this would have been the last ti she was allowed to speak to him.
"Anything you felt the need to tell." She spoke.
"..." Moulin stared at her for a few seconds.
...
ke with an impassive face. "But I was awakened by a spirit who began to speak to in my dreams. Guiding to use my mana which had resurfaced after my death. It had the voice of a child. Even after I left the mountains, he kept speaking to in my sleep."
Moulin closed his eyes. "But then he disappeared."
Lady Klaria's gaze looked as though they wanted to drill into Moulin's head and relive his experience. She grew eager yet nervous and oblivious to her nails pressing hard against the table surface as she leaned closer. "This child... "
"His na is Marhos. I learned his na from a Historian of Thaeria's temple." Moulin furrowed his brows. "The Goddess Ethowna's unborn child."
"That is... fascinating." Lady Klaria restrained the excitent in her voice. She abruptly raised her head and waved her hand in the air to activate a small spell.
Before Moulin could ponder, there was a flash of light. A loud thump filled his ears. It sounded as though sothing large and heavy had fallen upon the wooden floor.
"Ughhh..."
Moulin flinched and craned his head behind the female High lord. He turned stiff when he saw Prince Vascilicus's pitiful form on the ground. The royal blood, dressed in loose sleepwear, groaned in pain. When he realized what had happened to him, his gaze darted around in panic.
"Calm down, your highness. You are safe." Lady Klaria spoke in a comforting tone as she approached the prince to help him on his feet.
"..." Moulin blinked.
It was shocking how quickly her expression changed. She acted as though it wasn't her fault that the prince had suffered a terrible fall.
Hyantor scoffed, "Two-faced snake..."
"You brought here in the middle of my sleep?" Prince Vascilicus spoke through gritted teeth once Lady Klaria settled him down on a chair. Although he was mad, he gently accepted the warm cup of tea she offered him.
"I thought that you would want to join in. For support of our dear savior." Lady Klaria flashed her usual perfect smile, imdiately engulfing the prince's attention.
'Even the prince joined in on this?' The youth's silver eyes widened. He turned to a certain golden-eyed high lord who was calmly observing from the side.
Hadrian t his gaze and only raised his brows. Moulin's silver eyes narrowed at him. Undoubtedly, they were already planning this behind his back. This man... Moulin's lips twitched.
Moulin nervously sat while he watched Lady Klaria recount the details of Moulin's story to the prince. He relaxed a bit, realizing that Prince Vascilicus didn't react exaggeratedly to his experiences, unlike how the High Lord of Ralor had looked at him in eagerness.
"You are certain it is him?" The prince's nuclear green eyes stared deeply at Moulin.
When Moulin nodded, Vascilicus exhaled deeply. "My word... I have heard of this child. Although there is not much about him in the scriptures, he is ntioned especially in Goddess Ethowna's tales. I didn't know this was his na... and I had not heard of anyone able to read the old language.
How are you able to..."
Moulin shook his head, gesturing how even he didn't know that he could.
"Perhaps, he is the reason for your divinity. He has chosen you..." With a knuckle under his chin, Vascilicus mumbled. "Yes... we can use this to our advantage. We could avoid protest if we don't put you as the patron of other Gods. Marhos, although he is notably unknown to the masses.
We shall find a way to introduce him."
"Introduce him? What do you actually hope to achieve by using his na?" Moulin questioned.
The prince and Lady Klaria turned to face him. Before the two could speak, another voice interrupted them. Lord Fridal Hyantor sighed loudly before he spoke.
"The Auronian military alone will not be enough to ensure your safety. If you gain followers, strengthen their fate, make them believe there is hope, the people will do everything they can to protect you. When the people have a strong sense of purpose and hope, they beco a formidable force, willing to do whatever it takes to defend what they believe in.
This collective strength and determination will be your greatest shield against any threat."
The youth's slender brows furrowed. "And you think... this is enough?"
"For your protection? No. However, as bait? Absolutely."
Hyantor grinned.
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