The next few days wore down on Moulin. Sitting at his desk in the library, he imrsed himself deeply in his studies. A faint crease between his slender brows showed itself every five minutes. Sighing, the youth leaned back listlessly. Silvery eyes dazedly stared at the ornate ceiling.
He couldn't help but be distracted. When will the expedition return? The approximate date had already passed. Dread began to plague his chest since yesterday.
'Perhaps... sothing terrible had happened..."
Worry filled his thoughts, sowhat draining his energy. A certain little beast perked up his ears. The little snow-white fox bounced as he trotted on the desk towards his despondent master. His round, beady eyes blinked pitifully, reflecting his master's worried look.
Moulin revealed a faint smile, staring at himself into Snow's eyes.
He didn't have the ti to be worrying now. It was unknown when the expedition team would arrive. The most he could do was hurriedly resolve the issues between him and the royal council. He had his ntor's support temporarily, which was great. But who knows what this crown prince has up his sleeves?
With a sigh, Moulin rose from his desk and patted Snow on the head before sorting out his things. Snow followed him out of the library, finding his master's thin sandals interesting. Unfortunately, the little brat's curiosity waned quickly when he caught a pretty blue butterfly as they passed by the garden. Snow yipped happily, chasing after the fluttering insect.
"Honestly..." Murmured Moulin as he shook his head. Since he was still waiting for news about the expedition, he might as well work on his mindforge and concentrate on his arcan studies.
Captivating silver eyes deepened. 'Hadrian should be the first to hear about the expedition... I hope the journey ends soon...'
You must return safely, brother... Ghana...
.....
The wall lamps flickered, emitting a bright and warm glow. Light shone over a slender figure, unhurriedly walking through the hallway. Her eyes are downcast. A delicate religious hand rested over the other before her body.
'The young master must be asleep right now...' Lady Celeste thought as she glanced at the dimness beyond the crystal windows. Her deep blue eyes grew somber. She wanted to have a word with the youth regarding the eting with the Royal Court. Giving him a few pointers could help him a bit...
Although she had undoubtedly pledged her allegiance with Prince Archaen, she couldn't help but think...
Moulin had the graces of the Child God...
Her faith was with Nithialauna and the deities. Moving against the youth made her feel... guilty... shaful...
"..." She felt her throat constrict.
It frustrates her. How a young man like Moulin had been blessed with divine gifts, the affection of the Golden Lord, and the respect of the people. Although she knew there were several downsides, he was still... remarkable...
Suddenly, there was a presence. Lady Celeste lifted her gaze, and her steps paused.
"My Lady..." Moulin's trusted guard stood before her, bowing slightly. Dressed in his usual formal garb, dark and noble, Sir Ordan greeted her.
Lady Celeste responded with a nod and watched as the guard muttered an excuse before walking past her.
"..."
"Wait!"
Lady Celeste's voice made Ordan pause. With confused eyes, the sentinel turned, eting the High Priestess's composed gaze.
"...?"
.....
The nightly breeze welcod their presence, surrounding the pair with a blanket of chill. It brought a flowery scent that one could recognize ca from nowhere else but the realm's garden. Ordan found himself walking side-by-side with the esteed High Priestess Celeste, Moulin's ntor.
At first, he thought she only wanted to ask a few questions about Moulin, but as ti carried on, her curiosity seed too strange...
"Tell a bit about during his ti in the academy..." Her usual soft voice seed to flutter into his ears.
Ordan continued to gaze ahead. "I had only t the young master a few tis. However, I am sincere to say he is a very courageous sentinel. Despite the setbacks of being an aphrodite, he proves that he is more, growing powerful until he earns the respect of his peers. He has his flaws but embodies them mysteriously... flawlessly.
"
Lady Celeste quietly notes the way Ordan spoke about the youth as he continued.
"The young master has a mysterious way of handling situations. So may be straightforward, but there is sothing about him that attracts all the beautiful and the dangerous."
Lady Celeste furrowed his brows. "Does this 'mysteriousness' also make others believe he is destined for great things?"
Ordan paused. His charming countenance faltered briefly. Elegant eyes gradually turned wistful. "I do believe fate has so much more to offer him. With his strength, his goals will always be within reach. His gifts spark hope for many. I, for one, believe the war could not be won without him."
"..."
When they reached the garden, Ordan faced her. The breeze made the wavy strands of his hair flutter. "Forgive ; I must excuse myself, My Lady."
Blinking, Lady Celeste silently gave a nod. And without hesitation, the guard left as swift as the wind and as quiet as the night. Now, it was just the breeze and the lone priestess.
She didn't know why she even started questioning the guard. Her inquisitiveness towards Moulin got the better of her. Moreover, she felt Ordan's words aid to persuade. But sohow... it felt like a refreshing experience to hear about Moulin from another's perspective.
She wasn't too troubled despite the indecisiveness persisting inside her.
"..."
She closed her eyes, feeling the wind brush against her skin. Strands of pale rose loosely fell from their veil. The day had concluded; it was ti to retire...
As she was about to exit the garden, sothing from the upper balconies exposed to the garden caught her eye. A certain man with luscious moonlight-like hair was standing loneso as he faced the midnight sky.
'Moulin...'
For a brief mont, Lady Celeste felt a sense of panic being overheard by the youth. However, Moulin seed distracted.
He remained closing his eyes, lifting his face to the sky. His concentration looked familiar. Yes, similar to how he'd focus on completing the mindforge's formation during Na'El's sessions.
However, aside from that, she felt a deeper sense of familiarity, one she'd recognized during her routines in the temple...
"..."
Her eyes widened slightly.
He is in a state of prayer. A devout communication.
As one possessing divine gifts, being blessed in worship could ultimately strengthen his bond with his patron...
Realization hit her twice. Moulin is communing with Morhas.
Although the god had warned him of severing any ties between them, Moulin disregarded those words and thrust himself into seeking spiritual guidance. A bold and ridiculous move. After what they had experienced in the Holy Pool!
Lady Celeste could barely resist shouting a warning, a scold. But she stopped. Ordan's words sohow slipped into her mind.
'The young master has a mysterious way of handling situations.'
"..."
A crease appeared on her pale forehead. After a minute of battling her thoughts, she took one last glimpse of the youth's figure and quietly left.
.....
Only a day left until the Royal Council eting.
Moulin's troubled expression was reflected on the golden inscriptions on the scrolls laid out on the library desk. The pressure began to build as the days passed. There was still no news of the expedition team, and sending out a party after them was undoubtedly useless. Fortunately, Hadrian had managed to push the eting two days in advance from the original date.
Unfortunately, with the council's restless efforts and the prince's coercions, the date couldn't be moved a few days more. Anything involving dark caused a terrible offense. Furthermore, with Moulin's involvent, their supposedly pure Lynari, the situation instantly turned worse.
With Lady Calanthe's help, Moulin was able to gather so strong support. The ntors were amiable towards him. Even Lady Celeste had given so advice.
"Young Master..."
Moulin pulled himself from his thoughts and lifted his gaze. Ordan stood by the entrance of the library, looking slightly pale despite his calm countenance.
"His Excellence, Lord Hadrian is expecting you..."
It didn't take Moulin a second to remove himself from his desk quickly. He left the room in a blink of an eye, startling Snow who was about to jump off his cushion bed on the couch.
With a pounding heart, the youth entered his quarters and t a certain lord's magnetic golden eyes. Dressed casually, Hadrian looked less intimidating standing by the window. Golden strands seed to shine with only a bit of light.
The mont Moulin entered, Hadrian turned around, wearing a calm expression. Moulin felt a little bit of the weight in his heart vanish at the sight of him. His shoulders fell slightly as he took a step forward.
However, the unusual silence around them felt heavy...
Hadrian reached out and held the confused young man. Deep golden eyes turned somber.
"The expedition has returned."
Moulin froze. The sudden news made him speechless. Silver eyes widened in surprise, and not a word escaped the youth's mouth.
Hadrian smiled faintly, "The Chrysolite is on our hands..."
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