Unhurried footsteps sounded within the quiet hallways. Then the sound of rain, soft pattering into one's heart. Moulin walked towards his room as his fingers played with the cracked Arcan Relic. Much in a good mood, he didn't mind the bumpy ridges against his touch.
Silver eyes deepened when he didn't fully alter the magic formation of the arcan relics in the expedition team's hands. Thus, the results would be sowhat similar to Ordan's experience using the arcan relic to enhance his attacks. The thod would be extrely useful to win against mailbreeds and demons…
The door opened for him, and Moulin paused. A significantly familiar presence welcod his senses. However, he didn't sense anyone within the room. A certain High Lord had just left his room. His presence lingered in the air. Moulin's brows furrowed.
Sothing on his desk caught his eye and he approached. A new pen and parchnt lay on the wooden surface. It was only then did Moulin recalled, he had almost exhausted his materials. Hadrian must have brought them in…
A faint smile graced the youth's charming features as his fingertips stroked the pen. However, his mind wandered. 'Where had he gone?'
…..
The mirror fogged under the humidity. The vapor clouding it in a layer of moisture. Suddenly, the thickest part of one's palm wiped it clean, in crude swipe, revealing intense golden pupils. They looked as like flaming golden rings, searing in heat. A furious rage, clawing from within. Darken moist golden strands clung to his the man's forehead but he paid no mind to his unruly appearance.
The scene unfolded, over and over, within his mind, kindling the flas inside him. That unwanted gaze, softening as it laid upon the youth. Infuriating. Irkso.
The lord gazed at his own reflection. A wild beast fighting with the urge to maim and destroy. For so long, he had lived with such feeling, but now it seed too much to suppress. But he mustn't let it prevail and let its malevolence influence him. The veins in his hands protruded as he held the edges of the sink. Cracks are heard, shattering under his might. Oblivious, familiar black marks erged from his skin, moving slowly as though hesitant.
A forceful sigh escaped the man's lips. Lord Hercullio closed his eyes and raised his head, taking a deep breath and forcibly subduing the darkness thickening beneath. Sweat-sheened skin and loose, damp hair. Power radiates from the bareness of his upper body.
While he took in the breath, his muscles relaxed. His mind subconsciously reaches for that beautiful visage he cherishes dearly. The sight of the youth standing underneath the stars on a frozen lake and before the vast white mountains. A wonderful mory…
With that the marks faded and the darkness withdrew from his eyes like it had never existed. With closed eyes, he smiled in realization. Moulin soothes him as much as he frustrates him. A frustration of dominance, teeth-itching possession.
…..
Dawn cos, and the garden is bathed in false sunrise rays. However, it didn't disrupt the tranquility of the place at all. Silver hair tied on the back of his head, Moulin's eyes are half-closed as his arms move in the air, drawing waves.
The Arcan relic's crystal sparkled against the light as it levitated before the youth. The surrounding air pulsed rhythmically, matching Moulin's heartbeat. A cold breeze circulates his body as mana oozes from his spirit.
Whoosh!
The relic swiftly lunges towards him, entering his grasp in a blink of an eye. The snapping noise resounded in the air. Silver eyes abruptly opened, glowing a crystal blue. In the next second, ice materializes from his palm, forming a solid bow. His sacred weapon glead, exuding powerful energy. The arcan relic sits at the center of his palm, barely fusing with the bow's crystal body.
"Hmm…" Slender brows are drawn together.
No matter how much he examined, the efficacy of his bow remained unchanged. However, it seed his purifying abilities were heightened to a small degree. But such a small difference left him confused. Why? It clearly had a much more significant change when Ordan used it…
Suddenly, a familiar presence assaulted his senses. Moulin froze before relaxing. An arm reached out from behind him and placed a hand over Moulin's, which held the bow. The touch was sudden but tender and gentle. Moulin didn't need to turn to know who it was. He slled fresh and earthy. The woodiness hint of his scent was comforting.
"How early of you…" Moulin spoke. 'When you left so early last night…'
A voice lowered beside his ear. Hadrian's breath was warm as he spoke, "A significant business held ; forgive , young master."
Moulin smiled. Sohow, he felt that was not the entire case. He only nodded and shifted his attention back to his sacred bow, glistening intensely and reflecting the couple's reflection on it's many gem-like surfaces. "Release your mana for , My Lord. I'de like to sate my curiosity…"
Hadrian's towering form lood over behind the youth. Golden eyes deepened. With his hand on top of Moulin's grasp of the crystal bow, he lets his mana flow unhurriedly like a calm stream in the middle of spring.
Moulin took in a breath as rich energy fused with his and the arcan relic's magical enchantnt. It felt powerfully overwhelming. Hadrian's mana had a touch of ruthlessness and dominance, like a giant wave swallowing and disturbing seas. The crystal bow that was usually pure white, glistening with varying hues of purple and blue, glowed with a golden aura.
It wasn't the first ti the two had joined energies, but it still felt surreal and intimidating… and wonderful…
The mana…
"…!" Silver eyes widened in surprise, and his heartbeat quickened.
The purifying abilities grew exponentially. He could feel it! Besides that, Moulin could feel the imnse forceful energy that, if one were released, would undoubtedly cause great damage.
However, he doesn't know the aftereffects it would give the user…
"Do you wish to try it?" Hadrian whispered. His voice was deep and husky, sending shivers down the youth's spine.
Moulin shook his head slightly in response. Instead, he guides their hands and withdraws his sacred weapon, allowing it to disintegrate into snowflakes. When Moulin was about to lower his hand, Hadrian suddenly held his palm open.
Moulin turned slightly towards Hadrian, blinking his curious silver eyes. What was he going to do?
Half-embracing the young man in his arms, Hadrian held Moulin's palm upward and guided their energies together, fusing and centering into a whirl at the center of the youth's smooth palm. Moulin subconsciously followed his lead, directing his mana to trail Hadrian's movents. Sothing exciting and mysterious began unfolding inside him as he patiently waited.
When the energy accumulating at the center of his palm began to grow extrely powerful and uncontrollable, Moulin hesitantly glanced at Hadrian. But seeing the man's calm expression, the youth decided to watch and wait...
In the next few seconds, a small burst of energy was unleashed from the core. It was powerful enough to send an energy wave to their surroundings, causing the shrubs to quiver and the air to thrum with energy. Moulin had closed his eyes at the sudden release. His hand trembled uncontrollably from the event.
"Open your eyes..." Hadrian's voice pierced the youth's ears.
"..."
Slowly, Moulin opened his eyes. Long lashes parting, revealing a pair of exquisite moon-like pupils. His breath was caught in his throat the mont he looked
A small creature made of pure energy hovered above his palm. Gold and silver scales decorated its long body, almost like a snake's. A pair of graceful wings as large as the creature's body beat the air. The creature roared pridefully. Its fierce look could intimidate any living being in this world, but with a size as small as Moulin's palm, it only looked adorable.
Moulin could not calm his pounding heart. Its... a dragon...
"An imitation..." Hadrian spoke, lowering his head and feeling the youth's soft cheek against his.
Moulin dazedly nodded, absolutely enamored. The dragon flew in circles over his palm, roaring and sotis spewing fire.
Moulin suddenly recalled Hadrian's heritage, dragon worshippers.
Rawr!
The dragon made another fierce roar, attempting to oppress the two giants before him. Moulin chuckle. He didn't know if Hadrian was actually controlling it or if it had a mind of its own... Nevertheless, it was too adorable...
"Ao!"
Moulin froze and glanced below at his feet. A certain snow-white beast was glaring at his master's hand, making noise. Snow continued to bark and yip, running circles around Moulin and Hadrian's feet.
"..." Moulin could only scold the little brat while making sure he wouldn't annoy the creature on his palm.
The endearing sight filled Lord Hercullio's deep eyes. The corner of his lips lifted faintly while he turned his head slightly, noticing the presence in the distance.
At the entrance of the abode, two people watched the scene in silence. One was a tall elven oracle wearing an intrigued expression, and the other was an expressionless sentinel guard with a straightened pose.
Ordan didn't know how long he had stood there for. He had lost track of ti. No one could discern what was currently going through his mind. Only he was fully conscious of the tightening fists placed behind his back and the clench of his jaw.
There was no anger... or sadness. Just... emptiness...
Ordan decided to leave. He turned around without any hesitation. However, Na'El's voice suddenly sounded.
"His Excellency already knows..." The elf spoke, lowering his head slightly with a small smile on his lips.
These words made Ordan freeze on the spot. His heart hamred against the cage of his chest. Sweat ford above his brows while his mind was a blurred ss. Unconsciously, he turned around, looking at the scene in the garden one more ti...
A pair of ruthless eyes t his gaze...
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