A Gorgeous White

Gravity lightened. Moulin thought it was from his imagination. However, it was real, and so was the emptiness of his arm. He falls back slowly as if something kept him from falling hard onto the floor. To wait for the incoming bang of his body. But there was nothing. The explosion of agonizing pain he expected wasn't there. 

His eyes slowly blinked, and his vision focused. What welcomed his expectant gaze was not the pitch-black space and the water-like floor. Instead, a delicate green and brown embellished his surroundings—a calm grove with trees taller than clouds and bigger than giants. Moulin felt like he saw the world from an ant's perspective. He could not make out the clear sky. It's like a fog shrouds his vision of the treetops. 

"Moulin..." A familiar voice rang in his ear. Moulin then realized that he was standing still, unmoving and silent as the night. 

When Moulin turned his head, he saw Galadin's pale countenance. The boy's straight face was filled with anxiety, remorse... and guilt. When Moulin met his gaze, his knees weakened, and the realization of what he had done to himself to get here came like a tidal wave crushing his being. Moulin gasped and fell to the floor. His gaze snapped to his severed arm. 

"...?"

It was still there. However, unlike his other arm, it flickers like a candle's dying flame. It was almost transparent, glistening like the fading trail of starlight. 

"The pain won't come to you here." Galadin suddenly said. His grieving eyes gazed at the youth before him. "But when you return... it will be real and insufferable. The sacrifices that you made... I will remember them."

Moulin lowered his head and shut his eyes tight. Shoulders trembled. With one look, one would think he was crying, but he wasn't. It wasn't the time for tears. They weren't finished. His friends and comrades are fighting, suffering, and millions of malibreeds have surrounded the island Tree. It was no time for tears and regrets.

"The last fragment." Moulin raised his determined eyes and stretched out his trembling arm. His fingers uncurl, revealing a little round thing cushioned in the middle of his palm. 

Moulin exhales, "Please... take it... and protect the lives of this island..."

"For you..." The boy's eyes glowed brighter, and fog above their heads swirled around them. "... I will."

The seed dissipated into a dust of glowing white, fluttering away from the silver-eyed man's hand. It scattered into the swirling fog, which brightened faintly, moving like a god's breath and gentle like the ocean breeze. Moulin stands stand in the empty center along with the god of the space, the skyland's protector. 

Moulin remained still. The exhaustion finally drains him dry. He is on the verge of unconsciousness. He could not even keep his eyes open anymore. Even when Galadin approaches him amidst the storm of light, he is too tired to notice. He felt gentle fingers caressing the side of his neck and stroking his cheek. They are soft and kind. 

Was Galadin even tall enough to reach his cheek?

The aphrodite is oblivious of the transformation around him. The little glowing boy was nowhere to be found. In his place was a tall man of long brown locks, dressed in the simplicity of a plain robe. His eyes are bright like the sun, as if the world's vitality transformed itself into one single being. 

Then there is softness touching Moulin's forehead. A gentle kiss. 

"Rest..." Galadin's voice echoed in Moulin's ears. 

Moulin's mind is heavy with many things, worried about the many people. His body lightened considerably, and before he succumbed to slumber, the last thing in his mind was a name.

Hadrian...

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

The withered ground, scorched with malice and spite, slowly lost its dullness and sorrow. The crisp black leaves turned soft and green. Black and dry branches regained life. Piece by piece, the earth recovers. 

Beyond the fortress' walls, every single creature felt the sudden surge of life energy filling every nook and crevice of the island tree. Every leaf glistened, shimmering with life. The elves and maeruthans paused with disbelief even in the midst of a fierce battle. The mana was so pure, that they felt their souls tremble with vitality—a warm, refreshing sensation caressed their bones and minds. 

The malibreeds paused, communication distorted, and they moved as though confused. The blades thirsting for their blood rained down their shelled bodies until only their mangled corpses littered the ground. Soon enough, the lifeless barrier, torn and feeble moments ago, hardened, strengthened as though it held a thousand layers. The might was strong enough to weaken every malibreed within and beyond its walls. 

"What is happening?" Jagra questioned as his eyes darted around him, explicitly eyeing the fleeing monsters in the sky. 

Beside him, Lord Emlen Fraunces raised his gaze, unable to understand the situation. The rest of the maeruthans and elves around him rejoiced, raising their weapons with a war cry. Steel grey eyes narrowed slightly. A foreboding feeling coiled around his heart. 

Meanwhile, within Gala'En's recovering core, a dark figure silently stood before the realm's entrance. His expression morphed grotesquely, filled with indifference and fury. Although he was reluctant, in the end, he accepted his failure. Good things come to those who wait...

Helplessness enshrouded his body. Even when he sensed a hostile presence behind him, he remained unmoving. Golden eyes zeroed on the fair limb wrapped by those disgusting demonic fingers. Fresh crimson rained on the growing grass beneath it. 

There is a sharp whistle in the air. 

BANG!

The wall crumbles into a giant web of cracks. An enormous crater formed. 

Alha coughed and grinned. Black fluid seeped between the gaps of his teeth, streaming down his chin. A powerful grip holds his neck. Breaths shortened until he could no longer take any. With a little bit of pressure, his neck would be crushed. 

Golden eyes glowed, scorching savagery. The madness in his heart had never been so rampant in his entire life. Hadrian looked as though he would devour the world, starting with the worthless pig within his grasp. He'd shred him to pieces until not even a wisp of his soul was left of his existence. 

Tear him apart!

"I-Indeed... like him... y-you are stubborn..." Alha choked, barely breathing. In the next second, his hands are empty, and the piece of Moulin vanishes. 

Hadrian's eyes burned with rage. His veins pulsed with fire. His grip tightened greatly. 

Alha's eyes widened, mouth gaping. A suctioning force began sucking the life out of his body, streaming out like water from a spilled cup. 'What?'

"Return it." The lord's words dripped with poison. Eye glowing with savage fire. His body vibrated with the thirst for revenge. 

"Ack!- I may... be defeated... " Alha managed a pained grin. He looked like a dying fish under the butcher's blade. "...b-but I'll b-bring back... s-something sweeter..."

Brutality unleashed, golden eyes flashed. 

Slash!

"..!"

Black blood sprayed. 

A curved thing spiraled in the air and landed on the ground with a heavy thud—a dark horn. 

The demon could not even manage a silent scream as the pressure around his throat tightened excruciatingly. Death would be too easy, too merciful... there was no mercy for him. From those eyes, haunting and glowing with dragon fire, he would die a thousand times until his rest... but there would never be peace for him. 

True to Alha's thoughts, Hadrian wasn't finished. 

Something drove through his stomach, piercing his guts, twisting and mangling his innards. Blood began to pool underneath him. His body twitched as pain flared agonizingly. Hadrian's hand searched for something. The demon's mouth gaped. His eyes bulged in realization. 

Hadrian ripped out his hand from the demon's body. Black liquid drenched his wrists and finger. Strings of blood coated his hand. 

Thump... Thump... Thump...

A beating heart pumped within the cage of the lord's fingers. Its reddish flesh twitched hideously at each beat. The grotesque sight would make anyone tremble in fear. 

For the first time, Alha felt threatened. Nausea pooled within his gut. No one in the world could separate a demon's heart from its body. This undeniable strength and power were impossible!

"Then I shall take your life in my hands." Hadrian snarled. 

Then he threw the demon's body to the ground, letting it roll like a lifeless thing. He itched to destroy the thing in his hand, crush it until it was but a mush of flesh. 

A black blade materialized within his empty palm. Like a predator, he approached the rat on the ground. He will bleed him dry. But he wouldn't die. Endless torture will be his fate for the rest of his worthless life. 

Hadrian swung his sword. The black blade glinted menacingly under the light. 

Clang!

All of a sudden, something collided with his blade. Golden pupils flashed a dark light. 

A hand, marred with bulging scars, blocked his blade. An unfamiliar presence appeared out of thin air. The foreign creature was thinner than him but held the strength much greater. It felt as though he was not a single person. Darkness layered his being. It was so dense that it was difficult to determine his facial features. However, those blood-red eyes signified his malevolent existence. That rakish sinister grin widened in delight at the sight of the person in front of him. 

Hadrian narrowed his gaze threateningly. An ominous feeling soaked his chest. Before he could deliver another strike, a cloud of dark red devoured the demons whole and vanished without a trace. 

...

Silence filled Hadrian's surroundings. 

Those things had disappeared, but he was unsettled. His wrath continued to raze his insides. The hand with his weapon trembled in fury. He took a glimpse at the beating heart in his hand. 

He will find them...

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

Every part of Moulin's body screamed numbness. Darkness surrounded him like a blanket. He felt like he was floating away. But to where? He couldn't determine. His mind filled with questions, but he couldn't bother to care about even a single one. He's... too tired...

'Moulin... its time to go...'

A voice spoke in his head. It echoed in his consciousness, resounding in the vast cave of his mind. He knew it was Galadin's voice, but he could not even react to it. 

'I can only do little... but it will help...'

'My time has come to ascend. This would be the last time I shall speak to you. However, your sacrifices will live within me. Your words, and our memories, I will remember. And a gift... I will bestow to you.'

This time, Moulin's heart jumped from his words. The last time?

'You are very strong... so unlike 'him'... I hope you will succeed.'

'Thank you... my friend.'

There was a brief flash of light. A tall figure carrying a faint smile. 

...

'Wake up.'

"Haah!" 

Moulin's eyes snapped open. And he gasped for breath. His chest rose and lowered rapidly as his hand scrambled to hold something. 

"Moulin, hold still!" A deep voice snapped him out from his surprised state. When Moulin woke up, he met Hadrian's firm gaze. Relief immediately washed over him, and the giant boulder crushing his heart fell into pieces. 

"Hadrian."

"Don't move..." Hadrian spoke with a severe expression. He cradled the youth's body in his arms, gazing at Moulin's shoulder. 

"What-"

Then happened. 

Moulin's eyes bulged, and a silent scream blocked his throat. 

A searing pain bursts into his body. Agony burned his left side, and it was too much to bear. His body shook from the intolerable pain. He twisted and twisted, but Hadrian's hands kept him still. It mauled his flesh, and the numbness from it was excruciatingly intolerable. Soon enough, tears formed in his eyes. He wanted to beg.

Dark patches began to fill his vision. 

"A little more, my love..." Hadrian tried to soothe him. His eyes reflected a soft green glow as he gazed at Moulin's shoulder. 

Hadrian's voice echoed in Moulin's ears as the youth drifted into unconsciousness.