A Gorgeous White

Chapter 374: The Dark Parts

Moulin did not know what to answer he'd receive beyond the open entryway before him. He hasn't even set foot in the paradise-like room and he was worrying mad. His instinct occasionally failed him. Thus, he could not assure himself positively. As he stared at the intricacies of the doorway, he hoped, even a little, that there was a way that aid could him and the hundreds of thousands within the island tree. That there was an answer... He was utterly constrained by frequent torment of countless monsters and demons coming after him. Even he was aware of the annoyance they brought him. Somehow... he blamed himself for the happenings around him...

'Because of my existence... Have I brought chaos?'

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Na'El came to Moulin's side and patted the youth's shoulder. A friendly comfort. His eyes assessed the youth's dazed expression intriguingly. "It's too early to be worried."

"How could I not be uneasy?" Moulin sighed, and he stepped forward, expanding the distance between him and the oracle. The air caressed his face as he walked on soft ground. He spoke, "I've been meeting him frequently. I suppose you aren't worried I'd steal your job."

Na'El chuckled. His different colored eyes shone brightly with amusement. "By all means, take it. A diligent person such as yourself, you wouldn't mind having to lead the whole arcane circle of Gala'En every single day. Scouring the land for the fragments, expending so much mana for several hours each day, yes, I think you will do nicely with the title of oracle, your Holy One."

Moulin's forehead creased, "I'd rather not..."

Na'El's laughter filled the warm air. The leaves shook, and the treants trembled at their presence. It was only when Moulin entered the niche wall, letting himself be swallowed by the ever comforting touch of the spirit, did the woodland creatures stilled as though they were now anticipating his emergence. The lone elven oracle stood before the niche with a long worried gaze. Now it was his turn to become uneasy...

On the other side, Moulin did not waste time dwadling with the weakened God. He knew Galadin had already known of the complication of search and the island's state. Moulin could only, straightforwardly, ask.

"Is there any way to locate your last soul fragment, Gade?" Moulin knelt before the pure glowing child. His reflection rippled like water on the pitch-black mirror-like floor. The darkness around him seemed more ominous than usual.

Galadin lowered his eyes. He doesn't speak yet but raises his hand to caress Moulin's cheek. His gaze trailed the depths of worry within the youth's eyes. His still gaze made Moulin's heartbeat quicken.

Finally, the silence broke the god's response, "I am too weak. I cannot help. I'm sorry." 

Moulin stared at him, overwhelmed by his words. But he could do nothing to alter them. 

Moulin's hands clenched, "What if we let you consume the seeds we've found. Will you be strong enough to find the last one?"

Galadin shook his head. The glow of his hair glittered. "Recovering the soul fragments you've collected will not change my state unless it is complete."

"Then there must be another way..." 

"I'm sorry..."

Perhaps, if it were any mortal standing before this transcendental creature, they'd be curling before his feet, pleading for him to take back his apology. However, Moulin, struck helplessly, only fell silent as he knelt.

Guiltily, Galadin neared Moulin, touching the strands of his hair with gentle strokes. He truly did not know how to comfort and reassure a despairing person. He could only touch Moulin as how he'd placate a helpless creature from his garden in the High Realms. 

A sigh left Moulin's lips, and he raised his head to meet Galadin's uneasy gaze. So even a god like him can make such a helpless expression. Moulin cracked a smile, faintly appeased. 

"I'm alright..." He whispered.

Galadin furrowed his brows, "Will... you fight again?"

Moulin paused before nodding, "Yes, it is likely. I will have to inform the others."

Galadin nodded, "I've troubled every single one of you... especially you. I will be forever indebted to you, Moulin. If my strength returns, I promise you a gift..."

Moulin smiled softly, "Curious... I will look forward to it..."

If there were more time, Moulin would spend a couple of minutes conversing with the God. Unfortunately, he had to return immediately. Galadin didn't question this and instead warned Moulin before they parted.

"The dark raven... do not be swayed by his words. Be strong. No matter how curious you will be, you must be influenced."

Moulin frowned. Heart drumming rapidly. "You think he will come to face me again?"

"I've known the works of demons. He will return, and he will keep doing so until he has finished his task. The unknown master will not let him stop."

Unease flitted through the youth's gaze. His lashes trembled faintly. His emotions, open for he could not hide under the gaze of the glowing boy behind him. He said a word of farewell before the space graciously allowed him to leave, gently carrying back to the physical world where the men and elves waited for him and the hopeless news he'd bring.

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

The horns blared, mounts readied, and blades sharpened. The clambering noise of metal and leather sounded as knights cramped the cold stone floor, hurriedly to test their swings and prepare for the coming invasion. Moulin has already spoken to the court and Hadrian. They waited a few more hours for the mages and search teams to return with news, only to be presented with none other than nothingness. Tension arose, and they did not have time to be squabbling with each other. His majesty, Nordehl, placated his people and passed the order to prepare for the invasion. 

All are restless. The darkness continued to eat the island. There was no cure. And who knows how long the barrier will stay this time? Or how long the swarm will remain to torment them?

Within the finery of Moulin's quarters, snowflakes dusted the air. The source of the cold sat on the banister of the wooden terrace. A cloud of gloom enshrouds his whole being. 

"I believe that's enough brooding, little brother." 

Moulin's head didn't turn even when he heard Emlen's footsteps approach him. Gazing at the rolling clouds of grey, Moulin's shoulder slacked, and he sighed heavily.

Emlen secretly tracked every little bit of his movements and shook his head, "No one blames you, so you should stop blaming yourself."

Moulin smiled mockingly, "I feel like the dark parts of the world are coming to get me."

"You overthink." Emlen shrugged off the snowflakes on his shoulders. "The world has its way of bringing chaos and despair. And it's either we live through it or let it erode us."

Moulin felt a comforting pat on his back. This time, he raised his gaze to meet the consoling steel eyes of his elder brother.

Emlen smiled, "If you're worried that things would become unfavorable for us, lighten up. Your elder brother will protect you..."

Then suddenly, his smile disappeared, "So in return, you must stay by my side at all times and never leave my sight. I don't think I will be able to tolerate seeing you back in the air again."

Moulin lowered his head with a faint smile, "I understand..."

The moment his words fell, warmth returned to the room, and the flurry of snowflakes dissipated. Satisfied, Emlen assessed the area before he headed to the doors. The maeruthans will be waiting for him. The royals and the court took most of Lord Hadrian's time. Thus, Emlen had to direct the rest of the maeruthans for the coming invasion. 

"Oh!" Emlen paused the moment he touched the door handles. He turned, meeting Moulin's confused gaze.

"Some of the servants witnessed Snow scurrying around the eastern areas of the fortress and without the golden blood wolf trailing behind him. I suggest you keep him to stay put lest he'd bring trouble to himself even before the invasion."

Moulin frowned. "I will fetch him..."

And thus, Moulin's search commenced.

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

"Honored master!" The elven knight straightened, holding his breath as a mystifying silver-eyed Aphrodite maeruthan approached him. He was languidly crossing the hallways after a tiring routine only to be stopped by a notably rumored person. He would be a fool not to recognize the youth at first sight. There was only one person of silver hair and eyes and possessing great beauty within the fortress.

"It is an honor to meet you!" He swallowed, taking in the closeness between them and the magnified view of the maeruthan's captivating face.

"A pleasure," Moulin muttered. 'Loud.'

Moulin furrowed his brows, "Have you seen a furry little creature around these halls? With fur as-"

"White as snow?" The man quipped. 

"Ah, yes..."

The knight nodded, briefly telling him the directions. Moulin thanked him with a smile before he set off. He failed to witness the flush on the warrior's cheeks. However, Moulin couldn't care less about it as he walked at his own pace, determined to find a certain playful beast. 

Not long after, he paused. A feeling pulled at him, nudging his soul. Moulin silently walked forward, recalling the steps he'd made at dawn. His eyes unhurriedly followed the path he had previously taken. 

It wasn't long before he found himself before a leafy archway, desolate and hidden, where green vines and ferns grew between the cracks of dark bricks. Moulin walked through, welcoming by the same gentle gust.

Before the broken bell, a little white thing curled itself on the dusty ground. His furry ears perked up, and instinctively, he rose turned his head to meet his master.

"Ao!" Snow made a noise as he scurried over to Moulin.

The youth's lips formed a smile as he bent down. The cool wind brushed his hair enchantingly. "I knew I'd find you here. Come, let's go back..."

Taking Snow in his arms, Moulin turned around, heading towards the exit.

Suddenly, his steps paused. Moulin glanced at the fallen bronze clapper of the bell, sensing a strange feeling creep inside him...

However, the sounds of deep horns filled the skies. Moulin drew his brows together, shifting his attention. A foreboding feeling surged within his heart, and he turned his heels.. Soul doused with unease.