A Gorgeous White

It was cold and silent.

Within the dim-lit room, the faint light of the small lamp shone on the small figure curling on the bed in deep slumber. Night had come and the bright moonlight peeked from the curtains of the window beside the bed. Pink toes were exposed to the nightly air inside the room, curling and seeking warmth.

Laying on the bed, covered with a plain yet soft blanket, a particular youth shifted in his seep out of discomfort. His silver hair spreads out over the large pillows, glistening under the lunar light.

"Mmm..."

A sleepy moan sounded. Moulin's brows furrowed, his forehead creasing. Not long, his lashes fluttered open. Silver pupils peeked out from the thick rows of lashes. Moulin's gaze stared out in the open for a few seconds before he rose from the bed. His movements were unhurried.

He blinked. Where was he?

He looked around and realized that the room he was currently resting in was extremely unfamiliar. A sense of vigilance's overwhelmed his sleepy form and he quickly removed himself from the bed. As his bare feet touched the cold floor, he stood quietly assessing his surroundings. The room was simple and small. A few pieces of furniture, wooden and breakable looking, were placed by the sidewall. The walls were painted white and there was a small lamp on the wooden bedside table which was the only light source in the room aside from the light of the moon beaming through the curtains. When he realized the soft fabric against his skin, he examined his clothes. Gone was the black uniform he had worn during the trials. What replaced it was soft loose sleeves and slightly tight pants. Clothes he had recognized that belonged to his wardrobe. Confusion etched his face. Who had changed him?

Shaking his head he shifted his attention back to his surroundings.

He was alone. Moulin frowned.

As his gaze explored the room, his sight landed on the small note pressed beneath a bottle on the table before the bed. Moulin walked over and silently read the note.

'My dear brother Moulin,

This is your room for the time being until the Candidate Selection to be carried tomorrow at noon. I'm sorry, this little room was the only place decent enough that I could choose for you. Your brother will promise you a warm scented bath next time. I cannot join you for I am needed in the Council of the Elder Guild. Rest and don't wander around. Snow is under my care so don't worry and I will send a servant to bring your dinner soon. You have done well in the trials. I am very proud of you. Rest your body and eat more.

Your Dashing brother Emlen'

Moulin held back a laugh as he reread the letter. Dashing? What was he implying? He could imagine the disappointed look on Emlen's face as he chose the room for him. Moulin smiled.

Although he partially finds the letter funny, he felt a delicate warmth in his chest. He folded the paper and tucked it in his pocket.

He falls back down on the bed and stares at the ceiling. His breath was steady and his thoughts were overwhelming his mind. The previous events during the trials filled his head.

He did it.

He won.

His blank gaze deepened. He remembered the prideful victory when he won the last trial. The feeling still lingered in his chest. However, right now, he didn't feel an ounce of joy.

Moulin Sill Fraunces...

The original disappeared before him. His last words weren't even a farewell. It was a hint... a clue... a warning?

Moulin believed that the original didn't have the time to cry for his own sake as well. It must've pained him so much... Moulin pressed his lips together. He put a hand gently on his chest and exhaled.

His eyes softened. Wherever he is... I hope he'd be happy, watching over his family with those tender and youthful eyes...

Moulin sighed as he whispered a little prayer in his heart.

He didn't know how many days had passed during the trials. There was a difference in time when one entered the Trial realms. Every second ticked faster than the present time...

Narrowing his eyes, Moulin also recalled the creature's bloody hand that had reached for him. Just thinking of it made Moulin shiver. If the teleportation was late for even a single second... he would have been caught.

His heart pounded heavily. Moulin rose from his bed and abruptly walked towards the door with heavy steps. He needed some air. A walk would ease his mind.

He opened the door and exited his room carefully. With his mind wandering elsewhere, he continued to walk forward. His chest was tightening and his brows were furrowed. He needed to think and analyze carefully. What happened back in the mirror realm was far from a trial. It was strange and unusual. It definitely wasn't a part of the second trial.

His steps echoed in the empty halls that he had obliviously wandered through. His expression was blank, caressed by the gentle light of the moon from each window he passed.

Only when the night breeze brushed against his slender frame did he stop. His mind cleared. As he looked around he then realized he had walked until he was lost. He blinked and hastily looked around. He was in front of an open courtyard. There were tall trees arranged in rows and lanterns hanging on their branches, giving light to the surroundings.

The unusual coldness of his feet had startled him into looking down. He had walked barefooted...

How distracted was he to not realized he was walking barefooted? For the first time, Moulin branded himself as stupid.

He looked back and noticed the vast outdoor halls that seem to stretch so long Moulin couldn't see the end. He paled. His brother was supposed to send someone to bring his dinner and Moulin would not deny how hungry he currently was.

Yes, you walked barefooted until you were lost and now you are going to starve yourself for the night. How outstanding he was! Moulin berated himself endlessly.

He curled his toes uncomfortably and his gaze looked around hastily. Surely, there must be people around here that he could ask. Determination filled his eyes. This time he was going to focus on finding his way back.

He began to walk towards the pathway at his right and scanned the area for people. The soles of his feet had become prickly. He had to stop a couple of times during his search to check his feet.

The light of the moon had become his only comfort as he walked. It was like he has gone back to the northern mountains. When he had walked on the surface of the frozen lake, barefooted, without the care of the world as he stared at the night sky. Only, the skies of Thaeria wasn't as starry as the skies of the north.

Most nights back in the north, he would walk on the lake, relaxed and alone. Especially on the very night when Moulin had taken two strangers in his cave. That night was almost magical. The dazzling river of stars and the bright whole moon. The sight was undeniably unforgettable. He walked on the smooth frozen lake with the company of the Lord with golden eyes, as rare as the sun's golden beams-

Moulin paused his steps.

Lord Hadrian...

Moulin blinked as he stared at the sky. The man popped in his head like a weasel. His eyes softened as he thought about the moonflower kept in his luggage. Moulin had originally decided to consume the flower and improve his cultivation but somehow he could not bear to do it. He told himself that it was because he didn't want to waste its beauty, to save it for emergencies but Moulin knew it was for a different reason.

He smirked. Impossible...

Realizing that he had once again zoned out. He gritted his teeth. Damn it! Can't you walk without thinking anything?! The youth cursed and began to walk.

He didn't know how many minutes or hours had passed.

Moulin was on the verge of giving up. His stomach had rumbled like a beast had nestled in his belly, eating away his guts. He groaned. "Hungry... "

When he would return to his room, it would no longer matter if the food had become cold, he would eat until his belly was filled!

Moulin arrived in a garden. He was walking aimlessly because of his hunger. For the hundredth time, he scanned the area for people. Unfortunately, he found none.

Moulin gritted his teeth. "WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?!"

Damn it!

Here was no denying it anymore. He was going to starve tonight...

He grew tired and found a large willow tree surrounded by wide rose bushes. The place was concealed by many hedges and trees and Moulin had no energy to think about why he had gotten here. He was already stupid anyway.

The smooth soles of his feet were brushed by the gentle tips of the grass beneath his feet. His untied hair was swept by the nightly breeze. Moulin walked towards the willow tree. Just realizing it's hugeness and wideness the moment he had entered the curtain of leaves that fell around it.

He dropped his butt on the grass between the large roots of the tree and he leaned his back on the sturdy trunk. Although it was rough, it brought a sense of comfort. Moulin sighed. His gaze lifted to stare at the tiny beams of light raining down on his frame. He was unbothered by it. What mattered to him most was the existence of food that should fill his stomach. The only problem was, how the fuck was he able to get back if he was just going to sit here and starve?! Moulin groaned. He had learned that he would become really stupid if he would go hungry.

He recalled the lush red roses that he passed by when he walked. Flowers could be eaten right?

He closed his eyes and sighed. He really regretted not wearing his brother's tracker bracelet. If he did Emlen would be running here as if his life depended on it.

No more walking. Maybe he can just sleep it off and he would forget the hunger.

His breath steadied and forced himself to sleep as if it was his last chance of survival.

"Mmmh... "

Suddenly, just when he was about to doze off, the rough surface behind his back vanished and Moulin felt gravity pull him behind harshly. "...?"

Bang!

"Augh!!"

Moulin cried out in pain. It was as if his body had fallen into an endless pit and landed severely at the bottom, shattering his bones and tearing his limbs. Moulin heaved and groaned as he slowly rolled over on his front. "Damn it... "

What just happened?

There was light around him. Moulin's eyes had to adjust his vision to see his surroundings. He pressed his elbows beneath him and slowly pulled his torso up from the ground. The grass was gone, instead, the smoothness of the polished wooden floor touched Moulin's palms

"...?"

Thump

Thump

A pair of boots entered his view. Its clasps were made of pure gold and the leather was as black as the night. Moulin blinked and lifted his gaze with furrowed eyebrows. Who...

Golden eyes scrutinized the youth on the floor. A hint of surprise glinted in his gaze.

Silver eyes clashed with golden ones. A deep silence descended between them.

...

An amused smile suddenly graced the Lord's face.

"Are you lost, little doll?"