A Gorgeous White

A warm breeze entered the room. Curtains fluttered like moonlight bent in water. There was never an awkward moment as the three conversed. Words flowed freely and a comfortable ambience surrounded them. Moulin cooperated well as he answered each of Na'El's questions.

Not long after, it was time for the two elves to leave.

"Rest well, Moulin. You deserved it. The core has finally been restored. Now, it is time you recuperate your mind and soul." The Elven Oracle said as he patted the maeruthan's shoulder. "We are eternally grateful to you."

"I did what I could and so did others who lost their lives in battle." Moulin smiled faintly. "Thank you, Oracle."

Moulin walked them to the door and personally sent them off. Arcefi gave Moulin a thoughtful smile before he followed Na'El into the hallways. He expressed his gratitude silently and Moulin didn't need anything more from him than that.  He gazed at the two departing figures with calm eyes, ignoring the two hot gazes of his knights guarding the room.

"Ao!"

"Woof!"

Moulin blinked and turned his head, noticing two approaching beasts. One tiny and white, and the other dark and huge. The two guards flinched at the sight of the creatures. No matter how often they encountered them, they were still not used to the presence of two ferocious beasts. The discovery of countless dismembered corpses littering the ground before the core gates reached every single elf's ears. To think they were the handiwork of only two beasts sent chills down their spine.

Moulin confusingly glanced at the two guards before Snow and Kier pushed him back inside the room.

......…

"Mourning…" Moulin muttered, staring at the sky as he leaned on the arched doorway of the balcony. Endless darkness welcomed his sight. As always, the clouds obscured the once bright night of Corahn. Don't mention the moon, not even a single star could be seen. Sigh.

"Yes," Emlen spoke as he waved a hand to allow the servants to clean and send the table away. Their quick hands elegantly collected every object and left the room with graceful movements.

"The departure has been extended one more day. We must attend the mourning ceremony tomorrow and acknowledge the fallen.  Many… lost their lives in battle." Emlen approached his little brother with a sullen expression. His grey eyes seemed to hold every drop of distress.

Even if they only spent little time with the people in Artheia, the men and women were welcoming. The early dispute has long been forgotten, replaced with reverence and warmth. It was difficult not to be affected.

"We've also lost a few of our own." Emlen added, following Moulin's gaze. However, he could not find even a hint of comfort from the endless darkness.

"I see…" Moulin nodded, exhaling slowly. "I'll attend."

The two brothers were eager to return home, where the rest of their family were. However, both knew they must respect the dead and the sacrifices they had given to defend the island core.

The next day, white flowers filled every corner of each island. Grown from the very cores of the people who had lost their lives during the battle. Mana was woven and the residing elves weren't afraid of using it anymore. As the new golden bell rang in the air, they let the wind peacefully carry the petals of their fallen, hoping they'd ascend and be guided by the spirits of the heavens.

Moulin and the other maeruthans stood in a line, watching the breeze collect the flowers. Under Na'El's spiritual prayers, the elves held banners inscribed with the names of the deceased. They held it to the edge of the platform, raising them until a they materialized into a stunning cloud of dust, glistening in the air as they flew away. It was a beautiful sight.

Moulin's eyes glistened. He hoped their souls could see the wonderful lush of green and the bountiful scent of life that they traded with their lives. The future generation would learn of their sacrifices and they will be remembered.

After the ceremony, Emlen took Moulin to greet the Royal family. The King and princess remained dazzling even garbed in plain white robes. Princess Eilhara's lips trembled as she reached out to embrace Moulin who gave her a soft comforting smile.

Although under the eyes of her people, she sobbed on Moulin's chest. The youth smiled helplessly, sensing her pain. She tried to be strong but faced with Moulin's smiled which felt like she should just let all her distresses go, she couldn't bear it. She cried harder when Moulin stroked her back reassuringly. Moulin felt a little guiltly. The King sighed deeply watching her sister cry in Moulin's arms.

"Lord Hercullio…" The council addressed his arrival.

Moulin lifted his eyes and met Hadrian's tall and imposing figure approaching them. His deep golden eyes briefly lingered on the crying princess in Moulin's arms before he calmly shifted his gaze to the rest of the audience.

Moulin furrowed his brows. "..?"

"Your Excellency…" One of the councilors stepped forth, facing Hadrian's calm countenance. They revealed the same respect they showed to their king. "Allow us to prepare a banquet before you depart. It would make our Lord and his subjects feel unsettled should you and your men leave without us, expressing our gratitude."

A banquet? Moulin thoughtfully tilted his head. "…"

He'd never experienced an elvish banquet before. Even after his first mission… which was also his last.

Emlen blinked and shot a worried glance at his little brother. Moulin itched shrugging his shoulders in response.

King Nordhel nodded at his councilor's words. Many turned, awaiting Lord Hercullio's response.

A banquet. Moulin revealed a thoughtful look, unaware of a certain Lord's sharp eye of his expression.

"It would be kind of you…"

In an instant, brightness filled the people's hearts within the vicinity. Even Eilhara had stopped crying, wiping her tears with a soft smile.

Emlen sighed approaching his little brother's side. Although having a banquet wouldn't deter their departure, he internally knew the reason behind the lord's decision. Moulin was too oblivious.

At noon, word spread about the banquet and many were either thrilled and woeful. Thrilled because the elves finally had something to liven up their spirits and express their gratitude to their guests and woeful for, they knew their friends would be leaving them in a few days. Who knows when they'd be visited again?

Within his quarters, three knocks sounded along with an announcement of gifts being brought for the elves' esteemed purifier guest. The door opened and the sight of two large chests were being moved into the room. Moulin's blinked with a questioning gaze.

The head maid bowed, gesturing to the white chest at her right, "My Lord, these are her highness's gifts. Her Highness, Princess Eilhara personally chose your garments and jewelries to be worn in the banquet."

"I see, please, send the princess my thanks." Moulin smiled then turned to the black chest at her left. "And that…"contemporary romance

"Ah, His Majesty, our king, has sent gifts for his excellency, Lord Hercullio as well. Our king is very well-prepared."

"Oh…"

But… did it have to be sent to my room?

Not long after, the servants quietly left the room. Moulin gazed at two large chests on the floor. Kier and Snow circled the two huge objects, sniffing curiously at their wooden surface.  Moulin sighed, patting the two beasts on the head before he returned to his bedroom.

"Its just clothing. Don't think too much about it." A deep voice greeted the youth's ears.

Moulin faced Hadrian, wearing a loose dark red shirt, contrasting greatly against the large silken bed of white. He reclined languidly at the bedside, gazing at red within the wine glass in his grasp. His eyes were filled with disinterest as though everything about the world made him feel cold and unfeeling. However, when he sets his eyes on Moulin, it changed drastically from cool to warmth. The thought made Moulin feel soft inside.

"Come here…" Hadrian gazed at him with assessing eyes. Moulin felt even the soles of his feet were exposed before that golden stare.

A corner of the youth's lips lifted as he approached the bed. Hadrian reached for his waist, having Moulin stand between his legs as he sat up. The heat within the room seemed to rise.

Hadrian suddenly, reached for Moulin's left arm. Fingers curling at the curved sides of his lover's whitened skin. Then slowly, he planted a kiss on Moulin's wrists.

Moulin smiled at the touch, "Why are you kissing my arm?"

"You are too conscious of it." Hadrian spoke against the soft feel of his skin. His voice is low and husky. Moulin breathed in. Feeling exciting shivers run down his spine.

"Because its color… is too eye-catching." Moulin helplessly explained. "Many people were staring."

Golden eyes turned sharp. "Did you sense any contempt from anyone?"

Moulin hurriedly shook his head, "No… No one was rude to me in any way. I've been getting too much attention whenever I leave the room. Somehow, I'm quite conscious of it."

Moulin didn't usually mind people's stares and glances thrown towards him. However, because of his arm, he felt aware of their attention. Perhaps, he just wasn't used to it yet.

Hadrian raised his head, holding Moulin's gaze within his own. An amused smile graced his face. "Your arm is a symbol of your sacrifice. It's a gift from a god. They think its good luck."

"My arm?" Moulin raised an eyebrow. He raised a hand to move the strands of hair away from the man's clean forehead. "Where did you hear this from?"

"The men talk with the servants. Not a word fails to reach me."

"Nosy." Moulin flicked Hadrian's forehead with a chuckle earning him a heart-stopping smile from Hadrian. This man never fails to amuse him. He wanted to tease him too.

With a quickening heartbeat, Moulin bent down and gave Hadrian's lips a playful peck. He whispered against the lord's lips. "The incoming banquet had me requiring an escort."

Hadrian's gaze deepened, inching nearer. "I see. Who do you have in mind?"

"Someone tall… and muscular…" Moulin smirked, trailing a finger down the man's firm chest.

Hadrian's eyes glinted, "And?"

"High in rank… and audaciously handsome… "

When Moulin's fingertip stopped in the middle of his chest, Hadrian's deep eyes drilled into Moulin's heart. The lord wrapped an arm around the youth's slender waist and pulled him close. "Is he that good-looking?"

"Very…" Moulin chuckled. Silver eyes gleamed with mirth.

"Oh? Who is he?"  Hadrian grinned amusingly. This little fox had a way of poking his restrained parts.

"Who else?" Moulin smiled with narrowed eyes and he tilted his head.

"My brother, of course."

Hadrian stiffened.

"…"

Pfft.

done.co