The air brimd with the essence of magic. For one, it would be an overwhelming experience, drowning in the potent energy of mana. However, for the three people within the library, it was as easy as breathing while they busied themselves.
Sitting at the working desk while skimming over the Book of Orchaedia, the slender silver-haired young man glanced at the windows. At the next second, sunset rays filled the area, bathing the furniture and tos in soothing orange light. Silver eyes softened, appearing bright and serene from the sunset hues of their pupils.
He would feel relaxed and comfortable... if it weren't for the additional presence in the library.
Mouim secretly took a glimpse at the elf's figure from afar, casually reading a small journal from the farthest shelf. He might not look suspicious, but Moulin was already wary of his intentions for gracing them with his elven presence.
'It's already been hours...'
Suddenly, Na'El stopped, lifting his heterochromatic gaze, and t Moulin's probing eyes. His smile failed to evoke any positive reaction from the youth. But it seed like he didn't care...
Calanthe cleared her throat, imdiately attracting Moulin's attention. Moulin watched as she shook her head, gesturing for him to focus on his work. He smiled faintly in response before returning to his activities.
"Your conjecture is quite intriguing. However, you need more than these references to support it." Lady Calanthe comnted as she browsed through Moulin's report. "But since you were able to test it..."
Moulin nodded, "Perhaps, with so recorded evidence, it would be enough?"
The sorceress raised her brows. "If you are truly determined, then why not..."
Snap!
The book snapped shut in Na'El's hand, causing both ntor and ntee to lift their heads. Lady Calanthe tilted her head in confusion while Moulin frowned.
"Is there sothing the matter?" Moulin asked, straightening his posture. Silver eyes narrowed slightly.
He wasn't mistaken. There was a hint of anger from Na'El's movents.
Na'El gave a smile while he returned the book to the shelf. His movents are languid. "Forgive for interrupting... It's just that knowledge makes one too curious. It fuels one's inquisitiveness too much..."
Moulin wasn't too certain about what he ant. However, the subtlety of doubt was there. He was implying sothing...
"The intention matters as well." There was a softness in Lady Calanthe's tone as she reciprocated. "It defines as we live. Intellect and understanding can be weapons, tools... for one to find solutions... and spark hope."
"indeed..." The elf stared. His eyes are profound upon Lady Calanthe and the silver-eyed young man beside him.
Tension. Moulin resisted the urge to turn away. 'Honestly, just say it already...'
"Well, I believe I have intruded long enough... Forgive my intrusiveness..." Na'El sighed.
"Oh, no. There is nothing to forgive." The sorceress spoke with a chuckle.
Na'El did not extend his stay and excused himself. In Moulin's eyes, his actions were swift yet elegant. The last look he gave Moulin was sothing of uncertainty. Although the youth doubted it...
Perhaps he had already caught on.
When silence finally settled around the two. The air felt less stifling, making Moulin's shoulders fall. He didn't realize he was that uncomfortable from the start.
"It seems we might no longer be able to keep our activities hidden..."
Moulin flinched from Lady Calanthe's words. However, he had long expected that this kind of situation would arise. It was only a matter of ti before they were discovered. Nevertheless, he dreaded what was to co...
"Should we make preparations?" The youth spoke as determination filled his expression.
"..." The sorceress turned silent in thought. The feathers on her hat drooped as she lowered her head. "Lady Celeste has also begun to suspect you after witnessing the corrupted vessel of Morhas during your encounter. She is a dependable ally to the crown. I'm afraid her involvent could result in so burdenso complications if we resist or deny her claims. Thus, if we must prevent it... I believe it is best to lay the truth..."
For everything?
The youth's brows furrowed in doubt. "That would an telling them how I transmuted the relic's mana and the existence of the scroll..."
A sigh escaped Lady Calanthe's lips. "That is correct..."
"They will accuse us for sure..." Moulin shook his head.
In fact, hiding their actions for this long was already a great feat. These two ntors of his were quite sensitive to the essence of magic; it was like trying to hide fresh bloody at from a pack of famished wolves.
"But if we could persuade them..." The youth began. His eyes fell upon the book of Orchaedia. Its thick cover and engraving glistened under the sunset glow.
"That would be a start..." The sorceress held her staff with both hands, patting the uneven wooden surface of the magical tool as though it were a pet. Then she stood up, placing a hand on Moulin's shoulder.
"We have more to discuss, gather your reports, and be ready. I will tell you when it is ti. In the anti..." Lady Calanthe gestured to the ancient book sitting on the table. "Stop challenging yourself and holding back to searching for ways to connect with your patron god. Your eyes are practically drawn to the book... You must have thought I wouldn't notice."
Red filled the young man's face in embarrassnt. Was he being too obvious? He didn't even realize it. How laughable.
The sorceress chuckled and sent him away. Moulin carried the book in his arms as he entered his quarters. Luckily, he didn't run into Na'El on the way. He felt vulnerable to the oracle's profound gaze.
After setting the book on his desk, Moulin checked on Snow in the bedroom. Fortunately, the little misfit was slumbering quietly after tiring himself out from chasing insects in the garden. Smiling faintly, Moulin went back and opened the book.
The writings glowed a beautiful gold, materializing as though coming back to life. The mana it exudes fills the room. Fortunately, Moulin had already set up a barrier beforehand. His own energy tendered wove into the book's mana. Slender fingers moved, turning the delicate pages, but then soon he didn't need so when the pages began to turn by themselves as though they already knew what he wanted.
The pages stopped, gently fluttering as they brought Moulin to the secret knowledge of Arcan Shrines. The youth's curious eyes scanned the open pages while his fingertips traced the lines of magical ink, glowing briefly from his touch.
"There must be sothing..." Mumbled Moulin as he continued to search.
If he could not count on visions and dreams to connect with Morhas. Then, he will turn to a passive, less direct thod. Sothing that could help keep distance while fostering the sa amount of effort and achieve intimacy.
As though reacting to his thoughts, the writings glowed, slightly surprising Moulin. Before his eyes, the lines rged and split. What was once an orderly formation of writings and drawings transford into one whole concise information, eliminating anything straying from intention.
'I didn't know it could do this...' Moulin inwardly thought. Silver eyes blinked in awe as he picked up the book, walking languidly from his desk.
When the change ended, he hastily imrsed himself in the learning, and it didn't take him long to fully grasp it. He stopped before the tall windows and lifted his gaze. The calm face upon the glass returned the stare.
It was so simple that Moulin almost laughed.
"Words of worship and devotion, chaste adoration, and true faith."
Pray.
Moulin closed the book with uncertain eyes. He didn't know if he could achieve such an extravagant description. Prayers had strengthened the bonds between followers and their patron gods for so many years. A traditional act that had never died since ancient tis. However, as easy as it sounded... Moulin was never a pious person to begin with.
But having known Morhas, it didn't sound impossible. It was worth a shot...
Moulin leaned his forehead against the window panes and released a long sigh.
.....
The next two days seed like a blur as Moulin continued to live through the hours, composed and diligent. If it weren't was the subtle growing tension in the realm, he would have thought everything was perfect.
Except it wasn't...
"I have decided to schedule a gathering for us four." Lady Calanthe suddenly dropped in the middle of them, testing the magical formation in the arcan chambers. The droplets floated from the small clear canals, forming liquid pearls in the air as the magic remained pulsing.
Moulin was caught off guard and almost severed his ntal connection with the formation. He composed himself, refusing to open his eyes, multitasking the attention. He was standing before the Arcan pedestal with raised arms, balancing the weight of controlling the magical formation and his own unwavering divine essence. He felt his muscle strain and the hair-rising sensation taking over his body.
"Lady Celeste has returned?" Moulin managed to respond with his eyes still closed.
"Yes..." The sorceress lifted her staff, weaving her own magic in the air, finally finishing the last phase of the formation test. Moulin was finally able to extract himself from the arduous task.
The youth sat on the floor, trying to loosen his strained arms. "The ti has finally co?"
"Indeed, and one more thing..." Lady Celeste began, lowering her staff and turning to face the youth on the floor.
"Her Holiness has already inford the Royal Council."
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