Slow footsteps sounded as a lone figure trod down the elegant gravel path. The morning breeze carried the scent of roses, now a rarely seen flower throughout the kingdom. The rose bushes within the solitary garden are arranged gracefully. Though it would appear like a maze for many to its owner, it was akin to pacing in one's bedroom.
A few petals are plucked by the wind, blown towards an open calloused palm. Amber eyes narrowed slightly, and the handso countenance of his face held a hint of deviltry. He twisted his wrist and let the petal flutter to the ground. The fragile thing was crushed under his foot as he continued his walk.
Minutes passed, the royal body went and plucked a white rose from a nearby bush, admiring it with a smile. But a voice shattered the silence.
"Even after many years, it is still difficult to read you, Your Majesty." Soft and pure was her tone. Lady Celeste expressionlessly erged from the corner. As modest were her garnts, her beauty put the elegant garden to sha.
Crown Prince Archaen raised his brows and did not even turn. He tilted his head, noticing the dewy beads on the white petals. "Then why bother trying, my friend? And given your presence here in my lovely abode, I wonder if you are here escaping your responsibilities."
The woman stared at him for a few seconds. Hesitation filled her eyes when she finally spoke. "I did as I was told. I... have been your eyes and ears for the Lynari... Now I ask... what will you do?"
"Is that worry I hear in your voice?" The prince raised his head with a smile, finally eting her gaze. 'Although expressionless, she remains as emotional as ever...'
"No," Lady Celeste shifted her gaze to the little bloom in the man's hand. "... I was wondering..."
"Wondering what? If I have to guess, perhaps, now that you are now inclined to the young Lord Moulin's cause, you are worried it would create conflicts between us and the Lynari's Patron, am I correct?"
Lady Celeste stopped, resisting the urge to nod. She kept her calm and responded. "The young lord's patron is an unfamiliar entity. An unacknowledged God by either mortals or higher beings. He... can descend to the mortal realm and interfere. Most of all... he is not bound to the heavenly laws of not harming living souls..."
Prince Archaen paused briefly, then a hoarse chuckle was released from his smiling mouth. He raised his gaze in thought. "Ah... troubleso thing indeed. This peculiar silver-eyed young man has already proven himself to be quite a challenge. And with the rumors spreading beyond the stronghold, his influence grows without him realizing it. Furthermore, the Silver Scepter recognizes him as their beacon. That battalion has grown significantly with their beliefs to the Lynari's cause..."
As he spoke, his hand creeps to cradle the round blooming rose within his palm. His long fingers were like a spider's legs embracing its cocooned prey. The high priestess frowned at his grave tone.
"That stubborn gem unfortunately isn't weak. And if there were any flaws, he's has enough courage to overco them... Damn, sha it is..."
His fingers abruptly crushed the flower within his hand, squeezing its beauty out until its petals turned to mush and dampness filled the prince's palm. Sothing red and viscous dripped as thorns persisted and pierced his skin, a sort of revenge.
Lady Celeste's gaze flickered montarily. She was well aware of the emotions currently boiling inside Archaen.
The grave expression vanished in a split second, and the Prince casually flicked the moisture off his hand before calmly glancing at his friend. "I suppose we share similar frustrations, My Lady..."
"Similar how?"
"We are pitiful souls unable to have what we much desire." There was a hint of mocking in his voice.
Her response was silence. She believed neither of them shared anything similar because, unlike him, she didn't have the freedom to act for her desires. But like everyone else in this dark stronghold, they held a glimr of hopeful salvation during this wicked ti.
"It's ti I entertain my dear council." The man announced. The smirk on his lips grew prominent. "They would be delighted to reunite with our lovely saviour."
.....
Knock! Knock!
"Young Master?...." Ordan called with uncertainty. For the third ti, there was no sound. Unable to resist his suspicion, he hastily opened the door, barging into the room.
"Young... master?" Ordan abruptly froze in his steps as he faced the confusing sight before him.
Moulin was kneeling before the foot of the bed, his hands clasped together, and seriously closing his eyes in strange silence...
A snow-white furball sat on the bed, situating himself before Moulin's face. His silvery beady eyes blinked in confusion as his fluffy tail wagged playfully.
He looked as though he had just woken up, with his hair in a slight ss and his breathing light and slow. He hadn't even freshened up...
His long lashes fluttered as though trembling vulnerably. Pale countenance as though he was the moon personified. Realizing his thoughts, Ordan faltered and tore his gaze away. "Am I interrupting?"
Indeed, you are...
So much for trying. Moulin inwardly sighed. He didn't feel a faint sense of reverence. Was there a proper way to worship?... or maybe Corhan's ways are much different?
Suddenly a frustrated sigh escaped the youth's mouth provoking a sense of worry to arise within Ordan's chest. Moulin glanced at him and stood up, "What is it? And no, I'm not angry at you."
"Ao?" Snow whined.
"Not you too..." Moulin raised a brow. "It's nothing. Why have you co?"
"Lady Celeste has called for you. She says it's important..."
Important? The youth's brows are furrowed. He felt a strong sense of foreboding...
Arriving in the library, he was welcod by Calanthe's troubled gaze. The sorceress calmly clasped his hand with a pair of hers.
"Tonight... we are to et with the rest of your ntors." She announced. "I know it is a bit sudden. I too was... surprised. Lady Celeste believed we have to hear the truth from your lips."
"We already know the ti would co. All we did was stall for ti." Moulin sighed. In all truth, he had already prepared to reveal everything. The weeks of laboriously hiding their activities were too exhausting. Tonight it will end.
"Much persuasion will be done." Lady Calanthe gently patted his shoulder. "For now, I will leave you to your preparation..."
Moulin nodded. Silently, he helped tidy the library, wondering what his ntor's reactions were once they knew. Without a doubt, Na'El would be outright disgusted upon hearing that they used a forbidden technique to harvest mana. He will realize the lies Moulin and Calanthe had spoken. Although, so parts of their words were truthful...
Lady Celeste on the other hand... While she would loathe the dark thods used, Moulin wondered if her perspective could change. She had already been given an eye-opening experience from her encounter with Morhas. Even deities could be corrupted and used for another's purpose...
Of course, Moulin didn't want her to doubt her faith. But even the faintest sense of hesitation could aid him significantly...
Moulin took a deep breath and then spent the next several hours pondering and preparing himself. To face the three most prominent people in this stronghold, would be one's grand honor...
But Moulin knew he would be stepping into an interrogation room.
"At least Lady Calanthe stands with ..." Moulin stared at the small box on his desk. He wondered if Hadrian would be visiting him tonight.
.....
Darkness gradually engulfed the bright skies of the realm. As night ca, a comforting silence stretched throughout the space. Moulin followed behind Lady Calathe as they ventured into a secret tunnel just beside the kitchen.
Moulin pulled the corners of his mouth. He sincerely applauded the efforts put into the realm. Suddenly, he felt a wash of familiar mana pass through him. Before he could speak, the world brightened and he found himself stepping into another realm.
Nothing but a vast stretch of white filled his vision. But slowly, a big white pavilion with gauze curtains and a water-like floor fits itself into his view. Its beauty was calming as though it would only foster peace forever.
Within the pavilion, two figures stood before a large circular mirror-like table that reflected their tranquil expressions.
Moulin greeted them both before taking a place before the table. His silver eyes briefly glanced upon his reflection. He must stay firm and composed.
"I believe you are already aware of the reason why we called for this eting?" Na'El began.
Nodding, Moulin responded. "You harbor suspicions of ...."
"Oh, there is no ill intent. I assure you, Moulin." The elf smiled. "Just curiosity... You see we have noticed many peculiarities for the past few weeks. Your works are splendid indeed and you have cooperated well with each of us. However, my concern... well 'our' concern lies on the secret foundation of your works."
Moulin ntally tsked.
"Recently, I have sensed sothing vile, tracing it to your quarters. Lady Calanthe has taught you well with barrier magic but it lacked the ability to completely bar a skilled seer." Na'El thoughtfully gazed at the youth. "Your artifacts... where does it truly draw power from?"
Lady Celeste stared down at Moulin, equally inquisitive. Lady Calanthe only remained calm as she observed the two ntors.
"It cos from a scroll handed to by my Lady" Moulin glanced at Lady Calanthe who nodded to confirm before the elf and priestess.
Lady Celeste tilted her head, "It must be one of a kind for the two of you to conceal your acts from us for so long. Do show us..."
Moulin nodded. His cloak parted as his hands erged holding a small box. It was heavily sealed with runes and spells. With one look, one would think he had captured and imprisoned a demon within the strange chest. The youth took once last glance at his ntor's before undoing the restraints.
The chain snapped, the lock clicked, and the spells vanished. Slowly, the chest opened with a creak. But even before it could partially open, a sudden burst of malevolent energy filled the pavilion. The air instantly turned oppressive and despondent. Dark energy engulfed everyone present.
Na'El and Lady Celeste paled at the realization. Their eyes are wide and hurriedly snap their eyes at the youth.
"What in heaven's na is this?" The elven oracle spoke. His knuckles turned white from how tightly his fist was clenching.
Moulin t his unrelenting gaze firmly.
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