A Gorgeous White

Footfalls cruelly heavy on the stone ground as the pair of brothers walked. Not too fast nor too slow. The locking grip on his shoulders was right. As if the older brother was scared of even leaving a hint of redness on his brother's skin.

Emlen Fraunces was goddamn worried. Earlier, he had seen the hazy and blank look of his brother's dazzling silver eyes. It was easy to spot him for his little brother's head of white hair was particularly eye-catching. As he arrived at the scene, he saw his dear brother with dead unmoving eyes. Strangely an expression he had never seen Moulin wear.

Was he shocked? Terrified? Perhaps both? The unrest inside his chest was surging.

Truly, he could not disagree with the horrifying scene that his brother had witnessed. He was also alarmed at the first moment when he confirmed the jerking body. However, he could not shift his attention to his brother away. And before he could think he went over and pulled his brother out from the scene.

Once their figures were far away from the scene, Emlen faced Moulin.

"How much did you see? Are you alright?"

Moulin could not quickly process what had occurred. He could only nod silently.

"Moulin..." Jagra called as he carefully took the scrolls from Moulin's arms. He whispered, "We'll deliver this in your stead. Talk to your brother..." He bowed to Emlen and unhurriedly left with Ghana who worriedly looked at Moulin one last time.

Moulin watched their departing backs confusingly. But instead of dwelling on his questions about Jagra's strange behavior he only confronted his brother's concerned gaze. "Did I... worry you?"

Snow abruptly climbed into Moulin's arms, silently. There was no giddiness in his beady eyes as the little beast quietly curled in his master's embrace.

"I... " Emlen opened his mouth yet no words came. He exhaled calmly and unblinking. In the end, he could only speak the words in his thoughts.

"Are you scared?... "

The question made Moulin's head blank. Although a simple yes or no would end it, he didn't know and want to respond to it. He was scared, yes. It wasn't the first time he thought of this. But he didn't and never want to speak of his fears to other people. It would always feel like unwrapping yourself and letting the world know of your exposure. Every little fear would be known. This was something Moulin still carried from his previous life to his current life. Perhaps... He had never changed...

He wanted to tell someone about everything growing inside his mind. The voice, the original soul, and perhaps the very origin of his soul. But it would never happen. The concealment of his secrets was applied inside. The speech barrier would never let him speak even write. It was grave and suffocating sometimes...

Moulin gave out a smile to his dear loving brother Emlen. Still, this family, this life was a gift. "I'm alright. I'm not scared now that you're here."

Emlen furrowed his eyebrows in concern. His brother's expression was very convincing and since before it was hard to guess what he was thinking. Emlen sighed, "If anything is bothering you. You have to tell me, alright?"

"Alright"

"Good..." Emlen then pulled his brother's hand as they walked. Slowly this time.

"Brother..." Moulin started, wondering where his brother was taking him. "The man earlier... What happened to him?"

Emlen lowered his brows as he gazed at the direction of the scene, "Something dangerous happened to him. He will be alright. Those occurrences are frequently arising for the past few months. It is something the Guild Lords have to discuss." He turned to his brother by his side. "You don't have to worry. Just remember to have the company of someone when you go out."

Moulin nodded obediently. Frequently? Things like that were happening oftentimes? Something as grave as the scene earlier needed to be solved right away. A thought suddenly emerged in Moulin's mind. His lashes fluttered as his gaze lowered.

The black blood...

It wasn't really blood, was it? He was certain he saw it move. Wriggling and squirming. Those things were crawling out from the man's veins. Thinking about it made Moulin shudder. Whatever it was he wished nothing like that would happen again. Moulin continued to walk silently beside his brother.

...

A few moments passed and he finally asked, "Brother, where are you taking me?"

Out of the blue, a stern expression appeared on Emlen's handsome face. A sinister smile graced his lips as he glanced at his confused little brother. Emlen opened his mouth and spoke in a very low tone.

"Of course, we are going to discuss your decision of joining the Leonile guild, little brother. Don't think you can escape me this time. You are not going back until you have fully convinced me!" Determination was sparking in his grey eyes as he spoke. "You better start working on what you have to say to me..."

Moulin felt hair-raising fear as he began to list his alibis to persuade his second brother.

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

The sky had slightly darkened when finally returned to the guild. He could not believe how much time he had spent trying to keep Emlen from wrecking his own office within the Elder guild. It took about a hundred promises about not going to get close to Lord Hadrian until Emlen was finally satisfied. Although Emlen didn't relay to him any solid evidence and information why his brother cruelly insisted for him to avoid the Lord at all cost.

'It's probably too late for that...' Moulin had thought.

As the interrogation finally ended, both brothers began to talk personally about each other's well-being. The second young master of the Fraunces family was so persistent about the welfare of his young brother that he thought of sending someone to attend Moulin to the Leonile guild. Moulin snapped and scolded his brother about his actions. Like a sullen puppy, Emlen surrendered to his brother's words and dismissed the idea.

As the splash of orange decorated the skies, Snow had already fallen asleep in his lap. Moulin had to bid farewell to his brother after arranging a meeting between the two of them on their day-offs. Emlen escorted him to the Leonile guild like a hawk, glaring at everyone looking at his brother.

Moulin hurriedly entered the guild hall to see Jagra, Ghana, and Tessley waiting for him. He looked weary, holding a sleeping little fox and a letter from his parents given to him by Emlen.

Moulin had kept a frown on his face as he followed his senior Tessley along with his fellow juniors towards the teleportation crystal. His gentle eyes stared at Snow who was snuggling closer in his arms as though he was cold. Moulin unconsciously tightened his embrace.

"Are you alright, Moulin?" Jagra asked, noticing the gloom around his friend ever since he returned.

"Ah, yes. I'm just tired..." Replied Moulin as they all stepped on the teleportation crystal. Tessley took the token from her pocket.

Ghana glanced at him. The infectious cheerfulness of her grin made Moulin smile. "You just need a refreshing bath, my friend. Like you always do every time you return to your room."

Moulin laughed, "Haha, I guess I do."

Their figures teleported back to their manorial.

As their forms appeared before the Leonile manorial, the bright rays of the orange sunset bathed their surroundings in welcome. The sound of the calm rush of water entered pleasantly in their ears. Their silhouettes were framed beautifully by the light behind them. The colorful hues of orange and purple graced the vast cloudy skies. It was serene and magnificent.

"Beautiful..." Even Ghana could not help but gape.

"And just before we left it was like a thousand storms had gathered here," Jagra said as they followed Tessley towards the outdoor hallway.

Moulin stared at the beautiful setting sun facing the manorial as though in farewell. His eyes softened. It seems a particular someone had calmed down after they left the manorial. Moulin pressed his lips together. His silver eyes smiling with a slight comfort.

Once they entered the manorial, Tessley gave them a couple of tasks to prepare for tomorrow. After the lengthy instructions that bored them to death, Tessley finally left to finish some incomplete work.

"Ao..."

Moulin looked down and tapped the awakened Snow's nose, "You sleep too long. If you sleep too much, I might just let you miss dinner if you're so tired." He teased.

Snow whined at his master. He bit the soft tip of Moulin finger with teary eyes. Snow was careful not to bite his master too hard.

Moulin smirked. This cunning fox always knows how to push the right buttons.

"Moulin, we'll see you at dinner." Jagra waved as he and Ghana left.

Mouli waved at them. Moments later, he arrived in his room, carefully closing the doors.

He sighs blissfully as he stared at the beautiful sunset beyond his windows. He felt lucky to always have the best scenery in the castle. Although it was a little suspicious, he didn't mull over it for every time of the day there was a radiant sight to see.

Moulin placed Snow on the soft bed as he began to examine the letter of his parents silently. The little fox began to spread its limbs on the soft pillows, feeling the softness against his furry body. Snow mewled happily.

His thick lashes created shadows as Moulin looked down on the contents of the letter he just opened. His rosy fingertips gently caressed the seal of his family. There was longing in his eyes as he smiled, reading the worried words of his mother and father. In one envelope the Lord and Lady manage to squeeze in two letters for each of them. Moulin could almost imagine their impatient faces as they wrote.

Moulin sat on the soft wide bed with a sweet smile. His frame was vulnerable and beautiful as it was bathed by the warm light of the setting sun. The golden wisps stroked his silver hair behind his shoulders.

The youth's chuckle could be heard occasionally in between reading his mother's jokes and his father's stern concern. He was glad to hear that everything was fine in the Grand Fraunces manor.

There was an air of happiness around him once he had finished reading his mother's touching letter. He placed the letter behind his father's letter. With a smile never leaving his face, he began to finish his father's letter.

"Ao..." Snow suddenly lifted his head from the pillow, tilting his head.

Moulin didn't pay attention to his little brat's noises and continued to read.

As he continued to read his expression gradually fell...

Moulin stood up with furrowed eyebrows. He began to reread the sentence with serious eyes.

'...Your mother is sick. You must have realized that she never mentioned it in her letter. She didn't want to worry you and your brother. However, do not worry. She only needs rests. Your mother wishes the best for you while in Azuran. Take of yourself, my son...'

Moulin could help but worry. A crease appeared between his brows as he stared at the letter.

Mother is sick?

He really hoped her illness would alleviate soon when the next letter arrives. If not he would force himself out of Azuran to return home!

Moulin knitted his eyebrows. His eyes growing sullen.

As he let out a breath to comfort himself but it only came out as a sorrowful sigh. He could not help but become very worried... Only should he see his mother's welfare personally will he calm himself down. If only he had stayed in the manor, he could keep a close eye on his mother's health.

"What's wrong?..."

"My mother, she's sick-"

Moulin froze.

He instantly whipped to his side and yelped. He jerked back, almost falling down the bed. He immediately clutched the covers to keep him from falling. Silver eyes wide in shock and surprise as he stared at the man standing before his bed.

The Lord wore a smirk as the glory of the sunset highlighted his lion-like aura. The gold in his eyes was like shimmering with flames. His handsome face bathes with the soft orange light elegantly. He stood domineeringly, staring at the little beauty on the white sheets of the bed.

Snow only lowered his head back on the pillow. He only stared at Hadrian vigilantly. He'll pounce once the evil man makes a wrong move.

"L, Lord Hadrian..." Moulin stared at the man in surprise. He held the letters closely to his chest as his eyes locked on gold ones.

Hadrian slightly narrowed his eyes with a slightly lifted chin, "I was curious as to why you were so immersed in reading that paper that you even failed to sense my presence..." His voice was husky and slightly hoarse as if he had just drunk a single drop of water from years of thirst.

Moulin lowered his eyebrows as he avoided the mind-boggling gaze of the man in front of him. He hid the moistening corners of his eyes as he presses his lips together. For a moment, he had shown his vulnerable side to this man. As he sat on the edge of the bed, Moulin hugged himself unconsciously. "What brought you here, Milord?"

"I waited the whole noon for a certain little bird who left a tiny gift on my bed" Hadrian softened his voice as he lowered himself on one knee. He gazed at the youth who turned his gaze away from his. He could not help but cease his teasing.

Moulin paused. He remembered the ugly little ice wolf he left on the lord's bed. Moulin's ears reddened as he made no move to face the man before him. What gift? It was nothing more than breakable deformed ice. At least he tried his best to make1 it look presentable.

Hadrian stared at the letters in Moulin's hands. The youth's fingers were tightly pressing on the letters as if afraid it would disappear.

Moulin flinched as he felt thick rough hands removing the letters in his hands. Although the lord used force, his movements were gentle and careful. Moulin spoke, slightly alarmed, "What're you doing?"

Hadrian looked into the uneasiness in the youth's eyes. He softened his eyes as he straightened the letters in his hands. His movements were careful and elegant as his fingers pressed the crumples of the letters, trying his best to neaten them. He then spoke slowly, "Your parents wrote this the best they could. You wouldn't want to let it go to waste..."

Moulin furrowed his eyebrows in realization. "I..."

His lips parted but no words came. Moulin lowered his head to meet the Lord's unusual soothed gaze. Silver eyes reflected the image of the golden-eyed man.

Moulin felt lost. Drowning inside those golden swirls, losing himself in the gentleness and comfort.

He felt a hand caress his pale cheek. The touch sent scorching fire and soothing water on his skin. Moulin slightly narrowed his eyes.

Hadrian smiled faintly, "Feel better now, little doll..."