Silver eyes gradually opened. A baleful gust of cold wind surrounded him. He was vulnerable against it. Moulin crouched slightly, rubbing his arms, and bent his waist. His breaths appeared like steam.
Where was he?
The sound of nature reached his ears. The rustle of branches, snapping of ice, and the whistles of the frigid wind. He trembled as he took in his surroundings. The ice beneath his feet creaked. It stretched far with its edge against the snow-covered shoreline. In the distance, white trees blanketed the mountains, surrounded by a deathly cold breath.
It is magnificent yet peril hides beneath its white cloak.
Moulin's teeth clattered.
This place... It was so familiar...
Wait. His eyes widened slightly. Silver pupils quivered.
When the wind blew past him, whispering incoherently as though it was comforting him through his struggle, he bent, rubbing his arms. Never had he felt so cold before.
Brows are drawn together. He continued to sift through his mories. Moulin stopped.
The frozen lake. The Cave. The place where he was brought from death twice. But why? It looked as pristine as it was before. Untouched by the Kron's illness.
Why... is he here?
Confusion filled his face. Oblivious to the little flakes of ice slowly covering his cheeks, spreading in beautiful swirls.
Suddenly, he froze. A presence made itself known but he failed to determine where.
"Who's there?" His voice was shaking. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as frost started to coat his fingers.
No answer. But he felt it. A slight shift in the air. A tiny change one could barely notice. Who is it?
He shivered uncontrollably. Soone was watching him. Perhaps, reveling in his suffering. Observing as he freezes to death.
Fear. Moulin rembers the feeling when he first ca to the world. The harrowing pain as ice consud his life. Just like this... Is he dying again?
No. That can't be. He refused to believe it. He will not die. A sudden burst of desperation filled his heart. Silver eyes that had been shaking in fear abruptly held a stern determination.
Creak!
Flinching, Moulin looked down. Beneath his bare feet, webs of cracks began to spread out. His heart thundered.
He felt an instant of weightlessness as he plunged downward. A wave of excruciating cold enveloped his body, seeping into his bones. He faced the hole, having glimpsed the dark silhouette of a person standing beside the fractured ice, watching as the frigid waters pulled him deeper into their freezing embrace.
Silver eyes snapped open. He abruptly sits up. Chest, rising and falling quickly.
"Moulin..." A pair of warm hands held his shoulders making Moulin flinch in surprise.
Golden eyes deeply assessed the youth. Hadrian's serious face could be reflected in the youth's wide silver eyes. The man towered over Moulin, deeply searching through his gaze.
"Hadrian..." Moulin spoke, steadying his breaths as he looked around.
"You are pale." Hadrian slightly narrowed his eyes. Despite his serious gaze, he was worried. Placing a hand on the youth's back, using his mana to search for mishaps.
"I-I'm fine..." Shaking his head, the youth reassured. "Just... a strange dream."
Moulin's gaze drifted away as he dwelled in his thoughts. What was that? Strange. The dream made him confused. He could still feel his frantic heartbeat.
Wait. When did Hadrian arrive? Moulin's gaze snapped towards the windows. To his surprise, he had slept until the next morning.
"What?" he exclaid, bewildered. "How did—No one woke up?"
Hadrian neared him with a small smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusent and understanding. "I did try to wake you," he said gently. "But you were too stubborn, so I decided to let you rest."
"Impossible," Moulin muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't fathom how he had been so unaware, how he had managed to sleep through everything.
Strange...
Hadrian took Moulin to break his fast. A sudden wave of hunger overwheld the youth once the warm food was laid before him. He ate his fill unsure of the abnormality of his body.
They were alone in the sitting room. Snow rested on the youth's lap, playing with his own paws while his master silently swelled in his thoughts. Then although he was confused about his recent dream, he rembered why he had eagerly waited for Hadrian yesterday. When he asked Hadrian, the man who graciously sat beside him had the corner of his lips lifted.
Moulin's heart quickened at the sight of the amusent dancing in the depths of the High Lord's eyes.
"Well?" Moulin urged.
"The proposal has been approved," Hadrian announced, his gaze drawn towards the docunt before him. "However, there are conditions attached and a few revisions for Lady Celeste and several lords have voiced their opposition, but His Grace has conveyed the final decision."
Unease settled in Moulin's stomach. "Did His Highness Prince Vascilicus and Lady Klaria reveal the truths I entrusted to them?"
Hadrian paused everything he was doing and faced his worried-faced lover. "They did. I'm sorry."
Moulin's fists tightened as he absorbed the news. He nodded in silent resignation, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "It is as I expected. They needed to support their argunts... What decision did the Crown Prince decree?"
Golden eyes dug deep into the youth's silver ones. "You shall beco a beacon of hope. Lady Celeste shall visit you today and brief you."
...
A-A Beacon of...?
"What?..." Moulin's eyes widened. His hands turned cold.
"Are you nervous?" Hadrian questioned, noticing the look on the young man's face.
A fake smile showed itself. Moulin tried to act brave but he found himself unable to mask his emotions before those captivating golden eyes. "Of course... I have not a single clue about what to do. That is entirely not the response I was expecting. I thought I was to beco a...
patron?"
Hadrian observed him for a mont, a touch of tenderness softening his gaze. "It had the closest effect to the original proposal. Don't worry. You need only heed your heart's guidance. It doesn't matter if you disagree. Do you want to beco a beacon?"
Moulin blinked when this question was asked. He replied truthfully after a mont of hesitation. "I don't know..."
"Then do you want to oppose the decision?"
Once again with hesitation, Moulin shook his head. "No."
Hadrian smiled. One so gentle that it caught Moulin off-guard. The youth turned away, avoiding the blinding sight.
A beacon? Like a symbol? For the people? The notion of being a symbol of hope for others felt weighty and daunting. He understood that there must be a purpose behind being given this role, yet without knowing the full extent of it, he couldn't shake off his nervousness.
Hadrian observed Moulin, who appeared deep in thought. The nobleman set the papers down on the table and watched as Moulin furrowed his brow, clearly grappling with his thoughts. Leaning in, Hadrian whispered softly in the young man's ear, "I've been considering sothing. It would be inconvenient for if you were saddled with a savior's responsibilities."
Moulin stopped and hastily turned to face him with an eyebrow raised. "Is that what's troubling you the most?" he inquired, his tone laced with disbelief.
"If the young master, does not mind expressing my own thoughts, then yes. Perhaps, you are right. But whatever you decide, I shall support it." However, the thought that his young lover couldn't spend too much ti with him because of his responsibilities irked him. His eyes deepened.
So rules are but re shadows, begging to be bent to one's will.
Moulin furrowed his brows. He thought over Hadrian's words carefully while staring at the man's undoubtedly faultless face.
How dreadful...
.....
"Your Holiness, welco."
Moulin along with Tessley and Ordan greeted the esteed High Priestess Celeste when she arrived. She is accompanied by the escort of her trusted priestess. Hadrian had already left more than an hour ago to et with Varick and settle so matters, leaving Moulin to prepare for himself.
Lady Celeste expressionlessly returned the greeting and followed Moulin into a room to speak with him alone. She sat elegantly with her hands together all the while ever since she arrived. After being served with so refreshnts, they were left alone. Lady Celeste unmovingly set up a sound barrier.
"My sister and Lord Fridal presented comndable argunts, but it's absurd to think starting a religion could be so simple. If it were that easy, one might as well establish a cult instead. Lord Hercullio offered so truly satisfying alternatives that led to an excellent decision.
Honestly, why didn't they consider those options from the start?" Lady Celeste remarked before taking a delicate sip of her tea. Her deanor was as refined and serene as that of a princess with years of training, exuding calm, and elegance, even though her words suggested otherwise.
Moulin could hardly believe he was here listening to the priestess rant.
Lady Celeste continued glaring at her reflection within the teacup. One would think she was accusing the little piece of porcelain. "Fortunately, there are other ways to maintain your standing without resorting to such precarious processes. His Majesty's decision is indeed wise.
The goal is not rely to beco a beacon for the people but to expand your mana's influence, allowing it to be used for protection and surveillance. Additionally, it serves as bait to lure demons to their demise and gather intelligence about the dark island of Gohtel, where the Vigal's summoner resides."
Moulin paused. "Can all of that truly be accomplished?"
"It is uncertain yet but there is a great possibility. We have gathered prominent figures from all over Corhan to aid you. Although this extends beyond my usual duties, I am committed to guiding you toward achieving the desired results. We'll start by training you to connect with Morhas, reaching out to-"
Moulin shook his head. His brows were knitted together, creating deep furrows on his forehead. "My Lady, forgive but I must ask. What must I do with the role appointed to ?"
Lady Celeste paused, her gaze thoughtfully examining the young man's perplexed expression. Realizing she had been getting ahead of herself, she decided to take a step back and clarify. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Your primary role is to train diligently and explore various ways to utilize your mana under strict supervision for the mission.
Although the leaders have imposed restrictions on your access to the outside world, you will be granted exemptions for activities related to training and spiritual exercises."
"Exploring my mana's capabilities?" This should be one of Prince Vascilicus's ideas. "Are you implying that I will be dedicating my ti to experinting, analyzing, and depleting my mana for military objectives? I recall you ntioning sothing about letting others harness my mana... What precisely do you an by that?"
"It is as it is said. I understand your suspicions. Nevertheless, you have no reason to worry. Your safety is our top priority, and we guarantee that no harm will befall you. You have our assurance." Lady Celeste assured.
Moulin believed her, even if he sensed no warmth in her eyes. It seed like the decision was not entirely against him. "I understand. Then I shall look forward to your guidance."
Lady Celeste did not know whether to feel relieved or guarded. The young man could think of ways to turn the tables even without the support of a certain group of people. He is powerful and recognizes his own strength. But he knows little about controlling himself and assessing his spiritual self.
He needs to learn how to control and understand his spiritual essence, sharpen his ability to sense danger and protect himself, and strengthen his connection with the divine presence guiding him.
If not harnessed with proper control, such imnse power would go to waste.
"An escort will be dispatched to accompany you to your new ho. Our guests are expected to arrive at noon, and I'll personally introduce you to them," she emphasized. The sooner they comnced, the quicker she anticipated seeing progress from him.
"I understand."
"And bring your..." She glanced at the small furry creature with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow, nestled on a petite cushioned bed, perfectly fitting beside the sofa's leg. "Pet..."
Snow abruptly opened his eyes and faced the woman sitting before his master. Celeste flinched as her eyes t the piercing gaze of those luminous, bead-like pupils, strikingly mirroring the exact shade of Lord Moulin's eyes.
A few minutes later, Moulin escorted Lady Celeste as she left the room. The mont Ordan opened the door for her, a certain golden-eyed lord erged from the doorway, blocking their exit.
"Y-Your Excellency!"
Lady Celeste and her escorts paused in surprise before quickly saying their greetings. The High Lord impassively returned their polite gestures and approached Moulin.
The priestesses quietly excused themselves. Secretly, Lady Celeste stole a quick glance at Hadrian just before the door closed.
.....
"It went well," Moulin spoke before Hadrian could ask. The youth looked too calm like a lake untouched by ripples.
His response made the man stop. With a low chuckle, Hadrian nodded. 'He must be really nervous'.
User Comments
0 comments from readers