Chapter 119: Warmth In His Heart

Moulin lifted himself and sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes were slightly weary and stressed but his heart overwhelmed him. It filled his chest with strength and he released a breath as his eyes turned sharp. Its only been days but he could not shake the unsettling feeling in his heart.

He should go and find Hadrian.

Swallowing all his hesitation, he stood up. His boots made heavy footfalls. When he walked towards the door, Moulin suddenly stopped. Silver eyes slightly widened. The fingers who were about to touch the door slowly stopped.

...

There was someone on the other end of the door and he knew who it was.

Turns out he didn't need to go and look for him. Although he did, he was hesitant.

What should he say to him? Should I apologize and reject Nordehl's plan? What if he gets mad? What should I do? What if he would still not answer me?

Admittedly, this was the first time Moulin was too nervous to speak to his lover. Usually, he was straightforward. However, right now...

Moulin furrowed his brows...

...

"Moulin..."

When that familiar deep voice sounded beyond the door, Moulin stiffened. His head was blank and he felt his hearing turn stronger as if all his other senses were nulled.

Out of nervousness, Moulin forgot to respond. He just stood before the door silently.

"I will come in..."

As the words sank, Moulin subconsciously took two steps backward. The sounds were unusually loud and clear. The turn of the knob. The creak of the door. The heavy footfalls.

Silence fell on Moulin as he listened.

Golden eyes found silver ones and they clashed with intense emotions. Hadrian entered Moulin's room. Hair messily styled, his sword hanging on his belt, an unsettling feeling sits in his eyes. The youth in front of him looked reluctant to speak to him. Lord Hadrian closed the door softly.

"I was looking for you..." Moulin began. His eyes were unyielding with hidden emotions, chaotically overwhelming him.

...

"I was too..."

Moulin was surprised but he did not show. Tight, hidden, and unfeeling. But his eyes were filled with emotions.

"If you really do not like it then I will not do it... If you want me to always stay behind you then I will... but sometimes... I will feel weak and useless."

His eyes flickered. "It's not that I do not care about my own life. I am afraid of dying just as most people fear dying... "

"I know..." Hadrian steps closer. His eyes were worried, filled with undeniable concern. "My words were... too much..."

"You don't trust me..." Moulin concluded.

The lord stopped. His brows furrowed. "It's not that I don't... It's just..." Hadrian softened his voice. The moment he did, the rain softened as well. "I am afraid..."

Strong arms suddenly embraced the youth. Moulin did not struggle. His mind was filled with the man's words. Afraid...

Hadrian breathes in the scent of Moulin. Golden eyes were half-closed. His voice, a whisper, speaking against the white strands of the youth, "I do not trust myself... I am afraid. If you're in harm's way, I will not know what to do... I fear I will go mad. After the Oracle's vision, I swore I would keep you away from anything perilous. If I could I would send you back to your family where you will feel safe... " Each word was carefully spoken. Filled with heavy anxiousness. "It was fine if you were back in the northern mountains, where the world could not find you. Where you won't have to care about how others see you... It would've been better..."

...

Slender arms wrapped around Hadrian's back. Rosy fingers dig into the dark fabric. Moulin shut his eyes tightly as he embraced Hadrian.

"If I was... then I wouldn't be able to do this with you..." Moulin spoke softly. "...I would not be able to see you often..."

Hadrian furrowed his brows. Joy slithered into his chest when he heard the words. He pulled away slightly, raised a hand, slowly lifted Moulin's chin, and bent his head to kiss Moulin's luscious lips that were begging to be bitten. Moulin parted his lips affectionately with creases beside his closed eyes.

It was deep, simply filled with warmth, sweetness, and a hint of ease.

When they separated, Moulin slightly opened his eyes. Glistening silver peeking beneath long lashes.

"I'm sorry... " Moulin muttered. "You're right... I was not thinking of what would happen to me..." His voice turned softer and softer as he admitted.

"..." Hadrian caressed Moulin's smooth cheek with his thumb. "I do not want you to get hurt... "

Moulin nodded as he held Hadrian's hand which was on his cheek.

" However, I am going to acknowledge the mission..." Golden eyes turned more profound. "And... I will lead it"

Moulin stopped. He blinked.

"... Alright". Moulin thought it sounded right for Lord Hadrian Hercullio to lead. The man was capable and they might have a chance to pull it off under his leadership. However...

"Are... you going to make me stay here?" Moulin hesitantly asked.

"..."

Moulin felt soft lips gently press on his forehead and the rough skin of the thumb brushing under his eye. Slowly and deeply, the man spoke, "... I will take you with me"

"Really?"

"However, you will not enter the base with us..." Hadrian added. "You won't be alone. We will need surveillance from outside the base."

A lookout? At the idea, Moulin thought if that was his role then why bother to bring him along? Surely, others could do that task better than him. His brows knitted in confusion.

"Don't worry, you will know about everything soon"

...

Moulin was brought back into the warm arms of the lord. Embraced tightly. The youth half-closed his eyes as he listened to the man's heartbeat.

.. .. . .

The weather somehow eased and brightened. The strangeness of the sky brought doubts and suspicions to the land of Thundralln. Although that was the case, none had spoken badly about it. One knows a certain man had finally had his heart settled... Temporarily. Within the walls of the palace, anxiousness grew. However, the unsettling atmosphere only appeared within the assembly hall of the palace. Where countless meetings have been held for the past five days. It was revealed to the sentinels that a new mission had arisen. However, only a few were going to accompany to reduce casualties. 

Departure was nearing...

Rosy fingers caressed the wooden surface of the desk. Finally, it touched a flat circular stone. The communicating relic was placed at the center of the desk as Moulin sat on the chair. He figured he should contact his family before he goes.

The eye of Malefic.

A hidden nefarious organization... Who captures people bearing silver eyes for unknown reasons. Moulin was curious and somewhat feared the intentions of those vile people. Back at the ambush in Yan'Gofrae, they skillfully targeted all the seers and healers first and then left the town. They probably knew that the sentinels have ingested the poison from the river. Infiltrating their base might be harder than they thought it would be.

Moulin touched the gem on the artifact and waited for the transparent screen to appear before. It long after, the screen flashed before his eyes and he met the gaze of his first brother. Those deep metallic eyes and stern expression broke into relief as the man saw his little brother's face.

Moulin suddenly felt his chest tightened. 

"Hello, Moulin..." Maxille smiled. 

"..." Moulin smiled faintly, "Hello, eldest brother..."

For a moment, Laphora's voice explaining his deaths echoed in his mind. Moulin didn't want to lose this... his family, his friends... It was too precious to him.

"How are you?..." Maxille asked as he noticed the uneasy expression his brother was wearing. He could not help but feel worried.

"I'm... fine..." Moulin replied with a smile. His brows then furrowed as he asked, "How about you?"

"We are doing well. The city is well guarded..."

"And... Mother?" 

Moulin's voice was soft and concern flooded his eyes as he asked. Moulin's worried expression instantly struck Maxille's heart with dread. His little brother looked too sad. It was like the world was shredding itself in front of him. Clearing his throat, Maxille answered honestly, "I would be lying if I said she was alright." He sighed, "She's still... unconscious..."

Moulin clenched his fists...

"Eldest brother, since when did mother become sick?... Tell me, what did she do before she became ill..."

"When?..." Maxille was curious about his brother's sudden question. However, it wasn't like Maxille should hide anything anymore.

"It happened the day after she met with her friends. I recalled mother told me that she had tea with some of her traveling friends. One was an elf, she was the person who grew the mint herbs of the tea mother liked so much. Mother never stopped talking about her. Days, later she became bedridden... " He finished.

"An elven friend?..." Moulin turned suspicious. 

She made the herbs? 

An assumption suddenly entered Moulin's mind. "Brother, did mother's friend became sick too?"

Maxille's eyes widened in surprise, "How did you know?"

'The herbs... it must have been the herbs' Moulin often question why his mother had become bedridden and immobile... like the people in Yan'Gofrae and the sentinels who had ingested the poisoned water from the river. His mother was a Maeruthan. Of course, he also thought about how the poison had reached his mother. Had the herbs absorbed the water from the poisoned river? Did it grow on the river banks in Meian perhaps? His mother's friend must have ingested it too...

There was a possibility... but how unnatural it was. Perhaps, it was a coincidence how it reached his mother... 

Moulin narrowed his eyes.

Whatever it was... he resented it. Such a thing even reached his mother. The poison had even entered Aurona... 

"Moulin?" Maxille called his name. 

At the sound of his name, Moulin immediately gave a smile as he sensed that his brother was about to question him. He spoke, "Brother, tell father and Emlen that I am doing well. And never accept or consume anything from traveling merchants or anyone foreign, specifically, people from Meian. Do this and you will avoid the sickness that has struck our mother... like the Kron this sickness has no cure... yet. All of you should be cautious..." Moulin warned. His silver eyes deepened.

Although confused, Maxille only nodded his head. His brother had become quite serious. However, Maxille could feel that Moulin knew about their mother's illness, perhaps, his little brother could find a way to save their mother. His grey eyes turned profound. He had also felt that Moulin was not telling him something.

"Moulin..." 

"Yes?"

...

"Where are you going?" He asked.

Moulin paused.

His finger twitched. 

After a five-second silence, he slightly lowered his eyes. "Somewhere... "

"..." Maxille's expression turned worried. His grey eyes were layered with deep concern. "Please... come back safe..."

The words brought unfathomable warmth in the youth's chest. Silver eyes glistened with tenderness. His smile was gentle and delicate as the youth looked at his brother.

He missed them so much. His mother's sweet comforting, his father's stern yet caring eyes, Emlen's prideful blabbing, and Maxille's gentle words. He had often wondered how Pola was faring, always cleaning his empty room every single day...

He missed home...

He smiled.

"I will come back safely..." 

...