A Gorgeous White

Chapter 109: You Are Not The Real Moulin Fraunces

"Hurry... And... Succumb... Child... "

Moulin felt like his vision turn had turn red. As if a screen of crimson had blinded him. Black dotting his eyes. Heaviness crept in his heart as he could not remove his gaze from the elf standing before the barrier. His shoulders were hunched as he slowly removed himself from Hadrian's warm chest. He could feel the pounding of his heart. As he looked into those crimson eyes beyond the thick golden barrier. Gazing into those eyes felt like death had stretched out a hand to him. Awaiting him to succumb.

Moulin parted his mouth but no words were released. Who are you? What do you want? Questions swirled his mind once again.

The possessed elf tilted his head. Hair strands fell like a curtain on his face but it failed to conceal the pair of crimson eyes, calamitously gazing at the two people in front of him. It was as if he was watching an amusing show. It was sickening.

With a cackle, He spoke balefully. "It... Will... Not... Be... Long... Little One... "

In every word spoken from him, it was as if it was tearing the room down. Like an earthquake, vibrating along with the wicked voice's words.

Moulin did not respond. His eyes squinted with dread as he predicted a foreboding event. What will come to him?

Moulin felt the arms around him loosen. He shifted his gaze and realized Hadrian had removed himself from the floor. Murderously glowering like a beast at the Oracle. His golden eyes glowed, filled with calm rage as he stood. His expression was terrifying. As he took a step the barrier shattered as well as the oppressive air around them. Instantly vanishing by a gust of wind. Every movement slowed. Even the specks of dust hovering in the air could be seen, ceasing as if lost in time. The oracle only grinned even wider as the fearless man stood boldly. 

Unexpectedly, within a second the lord's figure appeared in front of the elf and grabbed the thin throat within a locking grip of a hand. Like metal cuffs refusing to be unlocked. Could never be unlocked. It tightened around the oracle's neck as if attempting to snap it off the bone. Without mercy, the lord slammed the elf to the wall creating a deep circular dent. A web-like crack appeared on the wall behind the thin elf's back. Moulin flinched as he heard the loud sound of cracks. Just by the sound itself, he knew how powerful was the strength used. He had never seen such power.

With a remorseless gaze, Hadrian roared, "Begone!"

With a choking laugh, the oracle's body suddenly stiffen. Eyes, open wide and then shutting abruptly. Limbs going limp. The pressure withdrew and the air turned stagnant and calm. It was as if nothing had happened. 

Moulin stared, silently. He watched as Hadrian dropped the oracle's body. The body loudly crashed on the rubble beneath them. At the sound, Moulin was startled awake. Knitting his eyebrows, he wobbled towards the elf's body and kneeled on the wood. Splinters pierced his skin but he did not care.

Carefully, he checks the oracle's body and realized the elf was alright except for the finger marks around the thin neck. It was ruthlessly bruised and discolored. With a sigh, the youth silently look up to meet the golden eyes of the man.

"Are you alright?" The man asked. His fingers, dangerously near his sword's scabbard. He threatened to severe the elf's head if Moulin's answer was a 'no'.

"I-I'm alright..." Responded Moulin. He felt small paws suddenly touching his thigh and he turned to see a small whimpering snow-white fox. Snow whimpered as he slowly climbed on his master's lap. His heartbeat could be felt by Moulin. Worriedly, the master placed a pale hand on Snow's head, gently stroking in comfort.

"You came just in time..." Moulin's words were directed to the lord before him. His silver eyes glanced at his lover.

"If I was late a second longer, I'm afraid you would have fainted. An oracle's power is different from ordinary seers and mages. You letting them break through your internal soul is akin to letting them kill you... " Hadrian glared at the elf in Moulin's care. "You told me you would be careful..."

"I was... Only, I did not expect it would be so painful..." Moulin gave a soft response. 

"Then you should be more perceptive... Do not carelessly let others examine your soul..." 

Moulin silently nodded. He could not say all of it wasn't his fault. He was aware of his own remissness. 

Out of the blue, the doors of the oracle's quarters were opened. The doors creaked and one snapped off its hinges. It fell with a loud bang startling the little fox on Moulin's lap. Who entered the room were three people, Rowan, Relena, and Prince Nordehl. The elven knights they brought were commanded to wait outside and await orders as the sentinels checked the situation.

"W-What?... " Nordehl widened his eyes as he assessed the destruction inside the room. It was as if a terrible storm had passed.

"My Lord... " Rowan kneeled in one knee with lowered eyes. "Forgive me for the delay..."

"Send the oracle to the medical wards..." Hadrian responded as his eyes strained on Moulin. "And escort Sir Fraunces to his quarters. He is unwell..." His eyes met Moulin. With a look that says 'We need to talk', Hadrian turned away to have a word with the crown prince. 

The oracle was carried away, and servants and knights were tasked to clean the destruction within the room. It was no longer suitable for their great oracle. Moulin was led to his quarters and was immediately left alone. He waited under the faint light of the room's lamps. Sitting on his bed while stroking Snow, letting the fox sleep on his lap.

The faint moonlight brought light to the dim parts of his room. Giving a blue hue to the area where the light of the room's lamps could not reach. The youth appeared calm and solemn but inside his mind, his thoughts were erratic. He was a feeble lamb with wobbly legs as though he was birthed seconds ago. Open palm on the sheets, his fingers curled on the soft blankets. The red eyes flashed in his memory. It was terrifying. Admittedly, he was intimidated. He had felt such fear. It was as if he would be plucked and chewed like a wild berry. 

Moulin lowered his gaze. He settled Snow on blankets, making sure the creature's sleep was undisturbed and then he stood, walking towards the windows. Removing himself from the brightness and solemnly standing before the faint moonlight that peeked at him from the covered sky. He felt like he needed the comfort of the moon. His figure looked, uneasy and sorrowful. Arms folded as he stared straight through the windows, looking at the small forest. 

It did not take a while before he heard the door creak as it was opened by a strong hand. Moulin did not turn even when he heard it. Silent and dreadful. The youth kept thinking and fearing. 

"What are you feeling?..."

At the sound of the voice, Moulin's tense shoulders fell. "I... I do not know what is happening... The answers I seek seemed to drift farther and farther away from me... " His gaze lowered as he nibbled on his pinky. Teeth gnawing on his fingernail. Truthfully, he had never been this nervous.

Heavy footstep could be heard nearing the youth. Floorboards creaking. Moulin felt the archnoble's large hands grasping his shoulders making Moulin slightly calmed. "You need to calm yourself..." Hadrian spoke.

"You saw it, didn't you? Those eyes... " Moulin swiftly turned. The moonlight framing his figure like a halo of silver. Lashes fluttering, silver eyes filled with disquietude.

"Those eyes... " Hadrian began as he gripped Moulin's shoulder. His other hand took Moulin's wrist to stop the youth from biting off his finger. A drop of blood had already bead out, "... are driven by blood."

Moulin flinched. He lowered his gaze. "I know that... "

"Were you not the least suspicious about that elf before you let him grasp you?..." Hadrian narrows his eyes. 

"Estuvian said he could help... So I did not expect the events that would happen afterwards." Moulin looked wronged as he furrows his eyebrows. His gaze lowered as he started at the tightening grip of the man's hand on his thin wrist. For a second, Moulin feared his wrist would break. "I... truly did not know what could happen..."

Seeing the tremble of the youth's shoulder, Hadrian softened his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Moulin and pulled him to his chest. A warm embrace, protecting. A hand splayed on the slender waist, the other gently on the youth's head, fingers through the dazzling strands of silver, glowing under the moon's light. Hadrian felt the pounding of Moulin's heart as his chest pressed against the youth. His lids lowered slightly. Thoughts unknown. He spoke. "You were hurt... You know very well how I feel about this... I do not like it... "

"I cannot promise that I would never get hurt. I am a sentinel... "

"Is that all you think you are?... "

"... " Moulin closed his eyes as he breathed the scent of Hadrian. "... and your beloved... As you are mine... "

Moulin felt the lord sigh above his head. The warmth of his breath. A faint scent of wine. He recalled how handsomely dressed Lord Hercullio was as he came to the oracle's quarters. Moulin sighed.

...

"I already know... " Hadrian spoke out. There was heaviness in his voice. "For a long time, I have known... "

Moulin leaned back to gaze into the Lord. His brows were knitted. "What is it that you know?"

Hadrian gazed down and met the round eyes. The moonlight glare dazzled within those silver orbs. His eyes softened as he was about to speak the truth. Within Moulin's gaze, Hadrian looked conflicted. Although it didn't show on his face, his eyes spoke for it.

Hadrian parted his mouth.

"I know you are not the real Moulin Fraunces..."