This familiar richness of strength and beauty which blended into the cool air strung sothing inside the youth. Moulin released a weary sigh. Silver eyes brimd with deep worry. "Though I am well aware of your strength. Is it too soon to test your new abilities?"
I wonder what it would look like in a battle?
Hadrian approached Moulin's back placing a hand on his shoulder. "It is never too soon. One way or another, I will have to use this power."
Pursing his lips, Moulin turned his head to him. He propped his elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his palm. "If you say so… I shall not stop your pursuits but it pains to even think of separating so soon. I suppose I already knew it would co to this… You are off to lead the frontlines and I? Stuck behind the safety of the fortress walls… "
The Lord blinked, hearing the youth's dejected voice but before he could speak, Moulin snorted. "Lucky you…"
"… Are you sulking?"
Moulin shot him a ferocious glare which was rewarded with a very amused laugh. With bright golden eyes, the lord pulled Moulin into his arms and placed him to sit on the desk, facing Hadrian. The man reached out to smoothen the wrinkled skin between the youth's brows. Sunlight bathed their figures in a bright glow.
The man's confession flowed out flawlessly from his mouth as soon as he looked at the younger man. "Truth be told… I am quite concerned. When I am away, you-"
"I will be fine…" Moulin declared with a raised brow. He looked confident and helpless by the genuine worry in the man's tone. "With how secure the fortress is, I think even if they could turn into a fly they still could not touch ."
"You sound so certain."
Moulin smiled faintly at Hadrian's unease. "General, your powerful lover can take care of himself. So you must go. Go forth, defeat our enemies, and return victorious. And from here, I shall give my full support and be the first to welco you back."
His silver pupils glowed like shimring snow basking underneath the bright moon, instantly ensnaring Hadrian's heart. Moulin narrowed his eyes in amusent. "Doesn't that sound nice?"
"You don't miss the fight?"
Moulin flattened his lips. "I do. But I am well aware of the serious predicant I am stuck in. Thus, in my stead, be my sword on the battlefield and save our people…"
How could Hadrian say no to such words? The lord rested his forehead on Moulin's. A small smile ford on Hadrian's face. "As my beloved wishes…"
…..
As expected of the man every single person in Helios and Falowright revered, Hadrian wasted no ti making preparations. The Silver Scepter's affairs were swiftly handed to Ghana's care while Varick was appointed the Golden Lord's representative. The High Lords were quick to grant the Golden Faction's every request knowing how significant their departure was.
The night of their departure, Hadrian briefly visited Moulin's bedroom where the youth pulled him into a deep long kiss. Hadrian was surprised by the sudden aggression but in the end, fell victim to the tantalizing taste of his beloved's mouth. Moulin captured him desperately like a man starved for years.
When they separated, Moulin licked his shiny lips. "Be prepared to be abstinent until your return, My Lord."
Golden eyes deepened. "Likewise, Lynari."
Deep in the night, the silver battalion of thousands left the hidden stronghold silent as the wind.
Moulin was left lying on his bed alone missing the warmth of a certain person. With a sigh, he cuddled the worried snow fox in his arms before drifting into sleep. Snow obediently nuzzled in with a soft whine.
…..
"Lord Hercullio has left the stronghold bringing thousands of his n to save Ralor from devastation."
"Given all his victories and how he created Helios from nothing, it is quite evident the heavens favor him."
"It has only been three days but I heard he's already reached Ralor, carving a path through desecrated mountains. Under his command, the battalion left a trail of beacons at every settlent."
"Indeed! His magnificence has given pride to the Mage Wing!"
"With his Excellency's lead, we will certainly turn the tide of war, don't you agree, Your Blessedness?"
The rows of elder mages sitting at opposite sides turned towards the end of the long table where sat an apparition of a man in all white and enchanting silvery eyes.
"Indeed. And your endless praises will no doubt aid Lord Hercullio to victory." Moulin spoke with curved eyes, although it was difficult to describe what he was currently feeling.
The n and won cheered in their hearts and the long eting with the mages finally concluded. Moulin sauntered towards the study lost in thought.
The people around him spoke tirelessly of Hadrian's feats so much that it felt like Moulin was the only one feeling distraught. He should be happy Hadrian had successfully crossed the dreadful terrain and intervened with the demon raid of Ralor. But the feeling in his gut told him sothing was off…
Moulin sighed internally. Perhaps, he was just lovesick…
…..
'Your heart is troubled…'
Moulin froze briefly in the middle of assessing the protective runes on the walls of the Arcan Chambers. The carvings glowed underneath his fingers as he resud his actions. "Hadrian has successfully set up the prototype Conduit, the Arcan Sector has expanded, and the relics have begun spreading throughout the bases… I should be satisfied, right?"
'… Mortal affairs are ever so complex. Simple vessels yet hold such depth within. I cannot always understand.' The core crystal levitating above the pedestal flickered.
Moulin smiled. He turned around and approached the center of the chamber with slow steps. "I think I haven't heard everything I'm supposed to hear inside the realm's confines… It makes … uneasy."
Morhas didn't respond for a few seconds.
'I understand how that feels…'
The youth stopped. An unwanted divinity confined by other gods, Morhas could understand. Right now, Moulin didn't know if what he created, the chambers, the connection, the magic formation, was also a sort of prison for Morhas. Nevertheless, both of them need each other to destroy the common enemy.
…..
Moulin spent the next few days without another ssage about Hadrian. Everyone was eagerly waiting for any ssages sent through the fortress's communication tool. Although he was very worried, he knew Hadrian should be well and busy. Perhaps tomorrow…..
Decisively shaking away his worries, Moulin also began to busy himself within the realm. He had taken it upon himself to associate with the affairs of the elven puppet prisoner, Gaile.
"Young Master, may I co in?" A soft knock sounded from the door of his study.
The youth sitting at the desk responded and Ordan entered the room elegantly. He handed a small round artifact embellished with a familiar rune, a recognizable storage for information.
"The extraction has been completed. This artifact stores the significant information of the elven puppet of the demon, Uldher. Courtesy of the sentinel interrogators."
The red rune glowed the mont Moulin took it in his grasp. He heard the information was extracted from Gaile's mories. It must have been an excruciating experience. Fortunately, they have already nded the backlash of the curse in Jagra's soul.
Silver eyes narrowed. The only thing to do next was to decipher the map sealed within Jagra's mind. How strong was a curse that could affect both its caster and victim? Even with Gaile's elven blood that could control its mana, the curse seed like it had a mind of its own, drilling into Jagra's soul and hiding wherever it could.
But it won't be long before they drag it out from the depths.
"Well done. Send them my regards." Slender fingers slowly caressed the smooth surface of the stone. Perhaps, they should double the security of the mage wing. Thinking of submitting the request, Moulin raised his gaze to the knight before him.
"Jagra… he must be present with the mages in unraveling the curse. Along with Gaile…"
The mont he said this, Ordan's brows furrowed. "He's a demon."
"He's magic is restricted. And with many eyes around him, especially under Jagra's watch, I doubt he'd be able to do anything foolish."
Ordan asked, "Do you trust him?"
"Gaile? He hasn't earned my trust. However, I know Jagra will strive to redeem him. He hasn't given up."
Ordan scrutinized the youth before him. How his silver eyes narrowed in concentration while he was thinking… Enchanting. But Ordan wondered when Moulin was able to discern his friend's heart within the realm?
…..
"You should be careful when using this! Your timing is terrible!"
Ghana's voice shouted from the communication tool on Moulin's table. Startled by the loudness of her voice, Snow paused gnawing the rope ball in front of him and stared at his master. The youth apologetically stroked Snow's head briefly before he continued writing.
"Well, I was not inford about your schedule so apologies." The youth spoke.
Ghana grumbled with the artifact tight in her grasp. From afar, the n continued their drills with questionable faces. What made their Captain extra peevish today?
If they knew she was speaking to none other than the fad Lynari… Ghana swallowed.
"Have you told Jagra?"
Ghana already knew the answer but thinking about it made her even more furious. She took a deep breath before responding. "Done. That idiot didn't hesitate for a second and agreed. I shouldn't be surprised by how he's been visiting that bastard every night. Is this truly okay? Don't tell you like that damn elf too!"
Her face turned red with anger. "When the lord cos back, I swear I'll tell-"
"Can you relax? We're only trying to quicken the curse's deciphering process." Moulin countered. "With the two of them working together, he won't do anything. Just… keep a close watch on them."
Ghana narrowed her eyes for a few seconds. In the end, she responded. "Fine. I'll watch these two carefully. And you… you take care of yourself."
A small smile graced the silver-eyed man's face. "I will."
…..
Voices echoed inside the secret area within the dungeons. Three people in blue robes, a distinguishing aspect of the fad sentinel-mage inquirers of the prison, stood looking elegant yet cold.
"Is it true?"
"What do you an?"
"The Lynari personally requested to have the demon elf and his victim together on this task? It doesn't sound right."
Kerien, the oldest, bent slightly over the table and stared at the large circular obsidian artifact. Sothing dark and savage was attempting to break out. She spoke, "Let's not question the Lynari's decision. I believe he knows sothing we do not. Our task is to unravel the curse and find out how to infiltrate the island of Gohtel."
Creak!
The door opened revealing three Silver Scepter sentinels escorting two people, an elven prisoner and a frail magic artisan. Jagra, the artisan, faced the people in the room expressionlessly. Although Moulin's instructions relieved him greatly, he doubted the people here would be lenient with Gaile and him.
He glanced at the tall man beside him. The elf's striking features stayed prominent despite the paleness of his face and the evident struggle he had experienced for weeks. Wearing only thin garnts throughout his captivity. Sensing his gaze, Gaile revealed a faint smile as thought to comfort him.
Sighing, Jagra approached their inquisitors. He must set aside his worries and complete the task given to him. For the people, for Corhan… for himself.
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