"Arcan Shrines?"
Moulin's eyes squinted a bit, and drew his face closer to the book, pulling it nearer. The writing glowed the mont he said the words, making him freeze in surprise. It felt as though it understood him.
Silver eyes blinked in curiosity. It could not possibly get any stranger than this...
Moulin carefully caressed the pages as carefully as he could. The scriptures glowed wherever his fingers touched, sliding under the lines of ancient writing. Moulin read them unhurriedly. His silver eyes followed every word and sketch, imagining the information in his mind.
Unconsciously, he began turning the pages, absorbing every piece of information. Imrsed in the hidden knowledge, the youth finally found himself on the last page, reading the last word. The finger he used to trace the writings abruptly paused.
Huh...
Moulin tilted his head. It doesn't seem complex at all. The book explicitly conveyed instructions on Deity worshipping as well as shrine making. Unlike the usual shrines Dilean temples create in honor of their Gods, where they hold grand ceremonies and worship, the Book of Orchaedia only expressed quite simple acts. Explicitly without the use of any holy objects...
It felt more like a small educational project than a grand act to communicate with deities. Moulin's brows are drawn together in doubt. It wasn't what he was expecting.
However, the book wasn't to be underestimated. The most notable key he found from the pages was the act of speaking with a god through visions.
It sounded too good to be true since it only needed three things to complete.
'I could probably do it here...' Moulin thought, straightening his back as he sat and flexed his fingers in preparation. It would take too long for him to try it in his study. He had to attend his session with Lady Celeste in an hour.
Glancing at the book, Moulin muttered the worshipping enchantnt under a breath. The book glowed slightly as he spoke the words...
One, A remnant of the god's blessing...
Moulin paused before decidedly summoning his sacred weapon, settling it on the table surface in front of him just below where the book was placed.
Two, the blood of the worshipper upon the god's remnant.
Moulin inwardly winced at the instruction. With a sigh, he cut his finger with a letter opener from the desk, letting red droplets fall upon the crystal bow's magnificent body. The dark red contrasted grotesquely against the white crystal surface.
Three, speaking the immortal one's na within the enchantnt words...
Deep affection or emotion must be expressed within prayer, infusing it with the spell and binding one's soul to the higher realm. Everything must be laid bare, and pure intention should be shown...
With a pounding heart, Moulin's thoughts trailed back to his visions. Visions where he could almost capture that mysterious entity teasing him closer, only to wake him in the real world. Lady Celeste's guiding words urged him to open his heart and let the foreign energy consu him.
It was a dangerous thing to do...
"Ha..." Moulin wasn't too sure how to do that. He could only let instinct drive his course.
The youth closed his eyes as the warm daylight gave his figure that ethereal glow. Shadows are cast on his calm countenance while his lips move, speaking the aged language. He pictured himself in that loneso valley, where a desolate frozen lake sat surrounded by vast blankets of white. The hazy skies welcod him as he stepped upon the frozen ground. The cave mouth, gaping behind him.
Suddenly, Moulin finds himself inside the cave, surrounded by looming walls of ice. The dimness made it difficult for him to see as he had to feel his way along the ice walls. The scene was beyond familiar.
It was where his reoccurring visions always ended. And as he had expected, a bright glow illuminated the area. The light hid behind thick walls of ice as though hiding from him and watching him struggle.
Moulin hesitated. He already knew what would happen next. The mont he touched that wall, he would wake up...
He doesn't want to wake up yet...
'Speak the immortal one's na...'
Moulin flinched. His body, a transparent glowing shell, trembled as the voice echoed around him. A faint force urged him towards the wall where the glow waited. Now, he wasn't sure if he was controlling his own body...
'M-Mor...' Moulin glanced around him. His palms finally rested against the sharp surface of the wall, and the glow burned brighter as though growing closer to his touch.
The luminous glow was reflected in those enchanting silver eyes. His lush lips moved. 'Morhas...'
Crack!
The wall of ice under his palm shattered, bursting into shards as a blinding light exploded before his eyes.
"What? Moulin shielded his face with his arms while he felt the ice cut his skin, and terrifying energy engulfed him in a suffocating hold. The ground underneath his feet vanished, and he floated in the space.
Just as panic was about to shake him, sothing grabbed his wrist, wrenching his arm away and exposing his face. Moulin's eyes widened, his breath hitched when he witnessed another face closed in on him.
"...!"
A face, all so identical to his. The copy's eyes are bright and silver, glowing extravagantly but burning with apprehension and wrath...
It snapped at him, "You are a fool for calling ..."
WHOOSH!
Moulin gasped as he was wrenched from the vision. He abruptly stands from where he sat, toppling the chair back with a loud thud. His breathing is rapid, and then he feels his strength draining. The table shakes as he stumbled forward, hands slamming on the surface.
As though frightened, the book slamd shut.
Silence filled the entire library. Only MOulin's heavy breathing could be heard.
"What in the world was... that..."
Silver eyes slowly glanced at the book of Orchaedia, looking still and harmless.
Knock! Knock!
Moulin flinched when the library door opened. High Priestess Celeste elegantly entered, stopping when she set her eyes on Moulin's uncomposed figure. The cold air welcod her, almost making her shiver.
"Is... are you alright?..." She asked with furrowed brows, clutching her hands together while she examined the room for any anomalies. Unfortunately, she sensed nothing.
Moulin looked at her for a minute while he steadied his breathing. The raw voice from his vision echoed in his mind like so demon's wrathful call.
"I'm alright..." He managed to reply. Wiping the sweat off his brows, he took a deep breath while he supported himself on his hands on the table.
"Forgive... I was just feeling... unwell..." Moulin ca with a weak reason and, as expected, was t with a doubtful look from the priestess, but he couldn't care less about what she thought.
Lady Celeste only nodded to him and asked him a few more tis before reminding him that it was ti to take a trip down the Holy Pools again. The youth responded with a nod and silently followed her out.
It felt like the longest journey he had made to the Holy Pool, even though they only traveled through a portal key. His mind was bombarded with questions, and he only grew more confused as they piled higher in his head.
Who was that? It looked so much like him. Was it the original Moulin Sill Fraunces? No, it can't be... the enchantnt was only ant for higher beings, at least that was what the book said. So... Was it Morhas?
"We've arrived..." Lady Celeste spoke, snapping the youth out of his trance. She looked at him strangely, feeling more suspicious.
Moulin nodded, taking a short trip from the adjacent chamber and changing into the bathing robes. Returning, he glanced hesitantly at the clear waters, glistening with pink petals. His reflection stared back at him with equal intensity.
"I advise you to settle any unresolved emotions, young master. Otherwise, it will be difficult for you to progress..." Lady Celeste reminded, noting every bit of change in Moulin's uncertain countenance.
Silver eyes trembled slightly. No... in the end, he had to face him. A spirit in disguise, challenging him with ferocity. Moulin clenched his fists.
A slender foot subrged in the water. Clear liquid gradually swallowed the rest of his descending body, embracing him with its coldness. However, nothing felt soothing as his heartbeat quickened at what he was about to do...
Lady Celeste opened her eyes, removing herself from her focus on guiding the youth. A sense of uncertainty filled her voice. Sothing felt amiss. "Young master..."
Moulin ignored her call and decisively summoned his sacred weapon. The instant it materialized, cold air swept throughout the room. In the next second, its body is slathered in warm red, dribbling down its curves from the youth's tight grasp.
If I face him again, it must be successful. I must speak to him. He cannot let it end again.
"What are you doing?" Lady Celeste's eyes are wide in shock. "This is sacred ground. You must cease all-"
Silver eyes glowed faintly, and Moulin called upon a na that sounded incoherent to one's ears. The enchantnt flowed smoothly from his mouth. A familiar suffocating force surrounded him, forming a whirlpool of the clear waters around him.
The once undisturbed pool beca fierce as they spun around the youth as though trying to drown him.
'Speak the immortal one's na...'
"Morhas..." Moulin abruptly opened his eyes. His voice echoed throughout the Heavenly Chamber.
Crack!
The sacred weapon in his hand exploded into sharp shards, slicing his skin and splattering blood in the air. Red dripped from the cut on his cheek, but his face remained full of anticipation. Ti seed to slow. He could hear water tinkling as they ford into ice and feel the air growing colder. His breath beca clouds of steam.
In the next instant, sothing strong grasped his neck in a deathly grip. Moulin's breaths were abruptly cut off as an unmovable force tried to choke him to death.
The pools instantly froze, turning into a beautiful rose-like form. And Moulin, at center, was no longer alone...
"Ack!" Moulin clawed on the hand tight around his neck. His nails scratched sothing familiarly firm. Ice...
When he had a clear vision of the thing choking him, he froze.
He saw himself...
A complete copy of his own image. Moulin's pupils trembled. So it wasn't just a vision.
But instead of warm skin and all his natural features, the copy was made of ice as hard as steel, as clear as water. He was like a diamond, glistening with colors as the light hit all angles.
"M-Mor...has?..." Moulin hoarsly spoke.
The crystal version of himself stared at him coldly. His movents made creaking and sweet tinkling sounds.
His grip only tightened.
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