A Gorgeous White

Chapter 102: To Placate The Rage Of His Man

... "Sanctify... be Vigal..."

The words then fell into silenc. Drowning in deep into Moulin's mind. Digging out the fear and the alarm within hidden from the pits of his mind. Before another word could be released from that bloody mouth, a deadly bolt of lightning fell upon the body. It trembled violently after being struck ruthlessly. Limbs spasm and the mouth gaped open. Pain streaking inside his body. Like his veins were being burned from the inside and his fleshed sliced and diced into pieces. 

Then silence...

Moulin clenched his fists. He tore his gaze away from the unconscious man on the rubbled ground and turned to the outstretched arm revealing from beside him. His gaze fell upon the man who had brought him love and ease. However, he didn't see the warmth and comfort within those smoldering golden pupils. Instead, they were filled with murderous rage and turmoil. Like furious flares of the sun. Filled with wretched madness and perturbation. It was the first time Moulin had witnessed such a dark expression from the man. But Moulin could understand his displeasure. 

It was fortunate that the body wasn't burned to a crisp from the restraint of the lord's power. It was enough to make him lose consciousness. But recalling the violent trembles of the man's body after being struck, Moulin could imagine the intense suffering from the attack. 

Rowan had arrived just in time to witness the scene. He quickly ordered the others to bound the red-robed man to send him to the palace for interrogation and torture. Then he stood. His blue eyes silently watched his master. His Lord was standing behind Moulin like an inhuman knight overwhelmed with a merciless craze to protect his possession. Standing like a tall wall, enclosing around none other than the young man with white hair and striking silver eyes.

Rowan had already predicted that the youth would bring nothing but insanity to Lord Hadrian. Lord Hadrian cannot indulge in something as pure and illusioned as love. From childhood, the lord was devoid of feelings, stricken by the death of his mother and brother. A slight puncture of his peaceful world could instantly destroy everything he loves.  If Moulin should betray Lord Hadrian... Rowan shook his head to dismiss his thoughts. As long as his lord could not control his emotions, something like this romantic affair will only bring downfall to both Moulin and his lord.

He lifted his and stared at the darkening sky. Faint thunder rolled within the accumulating grey clouds. It was going to rain... 

Narrowing his eyes, Rowan turned around and proceeded to resolve the complications left in Yan'Gofrae.

Since the incident, Hadrian hadn't spoken a word until they had mounted their horses to travel back to Thundralln. Moulin insisted he take Phuna with him to Thundralln. The little girl was the only one who knew about what happened to his father. The paralyzed sentinels were transferred to the medical wards in Thundralln where elven healers and seers would examine them.

With the child in his arms, Moulin rode his horse. His silver eyes shifted to his lover, gallantly looking forward. The harsh wind almost tore off the leaves of the trees. And large droplets fell violently on them. The lightning and thunder stayed over their heads somehow refusing to threaten Moulin. Even as they crossed the ring of the eteleportation pearl. Even as they reached Thundralln, the dark clouds stretched outwards reaching the shielded imperial city. The curtain of rain fell upon the large curling branches. Waters streamed down the surface of the wood. 

Moulin pressed his lips together as he felt the heavy rain on his shoulders.

.......

"Where's the prisoner?!" Valcan barged into the halls. His loud grating voice resounded throughout the room. The people within we're startled by his abrupt entrance. He heaved as he carried a black box in one arm.

At the center of the long table, sitting on the royal chair, Prince Nordehl pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. By his sides stood his trusted general and Sentinel Relena. Both had dark expressions as they stared at Valcan who strode across the room while huffing. All currently present were elves with outstanding power and high rank. Valcan's sudden entrance roused their disgust with humans.

"Shouldn't you be with the seers?" Nordehl glared at the human.

"All is well. The reason for their condition is because they have ingested a concentrated impure toxin." he explained as he pulled out a vial from the black box. Within the crystal tube, a drop of black-red sludge akin to the color of blood was revealed to everyone's eyes. 

The impure ambiance from the vial was so strong it made everyone light-headed. A heavy emotion emerged from deep within them. Coiling and pressing down on their emotions. Relena grew anxious as she stepped back. Everyone did the same.

Nordehl lowered his brows as he leaned back. His emerald eyes assessing the tiny drop within the vial held within the hands of the human. As he observed everyone's response he realized only Valcan was unaffected by the liquid's ambiance. Something as peculiar as the events currently occurring raised his suspicion and interest. He waved his hand, signaling Valcan to seal away the vial. Complying to his highness' wishes, he returned the vial inside black. The ambiance instantly vanishes once the vial was once again sealed. The people within the room let out a breath of relief as they felt the ominous oppressing feeling fading away. 

Relena held her head as she narrowed her eyes on the box. She shifted her gaze to the man holding the box attentively. "How come you weren't influenced by it's aura?"

"I believe it's aura only affects those who possess spiritual cores, My lady. Those who do not will not feel anything strange but if ingested, it will instantly cause a dreadful sickness. A strong fever will occur, followed by the paralyzing of limbs, and... the body will slowly wither. That is if it is not treated by heavenly power immediately. However..." Valcan hesitated. 

"Speak..." Nordehl pressed.

"That is only the case for those who do not possess spiritual cores, your highness." Valcan continued. "... I'm afraid for this who holds spiritual cores. The conditions are much worse..." He spreads his papers on the table while continuing. "The effects happened to be magnified. The spiritual veins within the internal soul will be blocked. The impurities of the liquid will spread throughout the body and will... will slowly break through the barrier of the internal soul. Once it encloses the barrier, the host's limbs will be immobile. They will fall into a deep senselessness and they will stay that way if the toxin remains in their body. When the impurities finally breaks the barrier then... It will corrupt the internal soul."

Unrest erupted within the hall. Silent murmurs sounded throughout the hall. Their eyes glancing at their first prince for a solution. 

"Valcan, where did you find the sample?" The sound of Nordehl's voice instantly silenced the muttering voices.

"I extracted it from one of the paralyzed sentinels inside the wards. However, I am only able to extract a drop of the fluid. Even if I did try to extract more, it would tear the inner organs of the body before it would be successful."

"You dare experiment with my people without our consent?" Relena scowled as she hissed at the man.

"U-Uh... This is a time of necessity, Lady Relena. F-Forgive me for offending you." Valcan squeaked as he took a step back, clutching his papers tightly on his chest.

"Enough..." Nordehl let out a sigh. His forehead wrinkled as he thought deeply about a possible solution for the matter. The prince let out a sigh. It seems he will need more help then he thought. 

Suddenly, the doors opened loudly. Footsteps echoed as Rowan walked in with a serious expression. He carried the air of a leader. Seeing her friend, Relena anticipated something. The hall was silent as they welcome the new arrival within the hall.

"Sir Rowan..." One of the elves spoke as they watched the man enter. 

Nordehl knitted his brows, "Welcome back, Sir Rowan."

Rowan nodded as he halted his steps. His blue eyes stared directly at the royal prince at the center of the table. Internally, he can't believe he was going to do this during this current situation.

"Your Highness, due to the current situation my lord has taken upon himself to aid you and your kingdom. At this time, Lord Hercullio is traveling to Thundralln and will personally seek your presence. Forgive me for the abrupt announcement."

"Lord... G-Guild Lord Hercullio?" Relena stuttered. Her eyes widening as the words sank. Is that true? Lord Hercullio is coming to Thundralln? She had never seen the Lord Hercullio of Leonil but she had heard stories of his feats and ruthlessness all for the kingdom of Aurona. In all of Azuran, he was the most fearsome lord. Cruel and heartless. He was feared in Aurona and he had never revealed himself to Azuran, perhaps, she would be able to witness his appearance today.

The elves within the hall certainly knew of the man's identity. The hero of Thundralln. Savior of their kingdom. No one would be able to forget the day he walked to the throne room, stained by the blood of his enemies. The elves had never feared the man. Instead, he was the symbol of heroism, told in the stories to little children. For the man to return to Thundralln after so many years, they had to prepare for his arrival!

While others were greatly anticipating with both hopeful and anxious thoughts, the royal prince was not too responsive. He pretended to be shocked while feeling quite joyful. The Lord was finally revealing himself to Thundralln once again! Although, he wondered why Rowan had said the lord would arrive soon instead of 'ha mve already arrived'. Hadrian was certainly within the castle. Was he preoccupied?

..............

Within the dim-lit room provided by his highness, the royal prince, the tall windows almost met the ceiling and the floor. It shows the dim sky and the heavy pitter-patter of droplets on the window panes. Countless droplets dripped like tears and the flashes of lightning in the sky was frightening.

However, inside the room, one figure was held within the arms of a taller figure. The sconces gave a depth to the tense atmosphere. Silver-white hair glistened faintly with a warm glow a rougher hand, belonging to the lord, slowly slipped within the wavy curtain of hair, palming the vulnerable neck.

There was raging turmoil in those eyes. Something not anyone can placate.

Moulin sighed as his brows knitted. What should he do to calm the beast inside?