A Gorgeous White

Drifting afloat the vast emptiness like a leaf on still water, Moulin felt light as though he weighed nothing. The darkness is comfort. He wasn't sure if it really was because his eyes were closed, and he was hesitant to open them. Fearing the sudden strike of pain ravaging him in the next second. The dark space of his sleep was familiar, and Moulin made no move to tremble. 

It was only when he felt something peculiar and cold that he decided to open his eyes. There was a string glowing brightly like the thread of an embroidered sun. It curled into waves and stretched as far as he could see. He could not determine its ends, and he couldn't care. The golden glow shimmered with wisps of silver. A sparkle of dust like twinkling stars in the night.

Moulin reached out, caressing the delicate length of it with his fingertip. A splash of warmth enveloped him, and the first thought that came to his mind was Hadrian's lovely golden eyes. Like deep pools of gold shimmering under sunlight. He remembered each kiss, so soft and passionate. Drunk from each other's gazes. The touch of Hadrian's firm skin against his own. Hadrian's breath on his lips. The soft strands of his golden hair. He is like the sun, gloriously mighty and beautiful. 

'Ah...'

Moulin blinked. His expression softened. This must be the string that ties them together—their bond. 

Moulin didn't know when it formed, but he was thankful for its existence. 

  He withdrew his fingers, afraid of disturbing it. He shouldn't touch it carelessly. What if something goes wrong? Determined, Moulin held himself back. 

Not long after, a cold breeze seemed to envelop him. He felt disturbed and uncomfortable, which he usually never felt, no matter how low the temperature was. In an instant, suspicion filled his eyes. 

When he lowered his gaze, he paused. 

A dark cloud twisted around the golden string, coiling like a poisonous snake. It was small. However, when one looks closer, one would notice it spreading unhurriedly. 

'What is this?' Moulin's chest ached as though something gnawed on his heart. 

.....

The darkness receded. 

Long lashes fluttered open like the faint beat of a butterfly's wings. Warm air entered through the slightly open windows slipping past the fluttering gauze curtains. A young man is nestled on the bed, surrounded by softness and warmth. Pink toes curled beneath the sheets, and his silver pupils grew more prominent as they were exposed to light. Soft waves of silver strands spread out on the silken pillows, glistening like moonlight. 

Blue flowers were the first thing Moulin saw. Sapphire petals graced with tiny fresh droplets of dew. Tall green leaves surround it. They were healthy and vibrant. Moulin sighed at the clear sight. 

He envisioned its growth from a tiny round seed carried on a gardener's palm into a bright, healthy flower. However, even something as little as the plant could live through harsh, miserable experiences. Long ago, it was on the brink of death. Something sinister sucked away its life force bit by bit until it was nothing but a withered shell. Nevertheless, it was hopeful and blessed. Mana returned, and its life was restored. It was more beautiful than it was before. 

Countless elves fought over who would get to decorate it and who would have the honor of bringing it inside the room. One servant was particularly lucky to be chosen by Na'El. He was delighted. 

"..."

Moulin's eyes furrowed and turned away. The scenes within his mind flashed and disappeared in an instant. He shifted his body slightly. 

"Moulin, are you awake?"

When he processed the words, Moulin shifted his gaze with a turn of his head. His silver eyes emitted a faint green when he was welcomed by none other than Na'El's warm eyes. 

However, the moment Moulin looked at him, various scenes appeared in his mind. 

FLASH!

An ill-boding grin widened before his sight. Blood-red eyes radiated wickedly, and they belonged to none other than the powerful demon who clashed with Moulin's mana long ago. Alha's distorted expression is filled with amusement as he choked the breath out Na'El's neck. 

'Look closer, little oracle. Tell me, what do you see?' He chuckled while tightening his grip. The demon's horn gleamed sharply, pointing at the heavens as though in accusation. 

'Serpent-' Na'El gasped. Pupils, riddled with fear. 

Alha released a dark laugh, 'Indeed, you are a powerful one. My god had graced you with his visage.'

'H-He is as wretched... a-as the rest of y-you!' Na'El spat with a clenched jaw. 

Coldness brimmed within Alha's expression. This time, he spoke slower as though lulling a child to sleep. 'You will see... When he has risen, all will bow before his feet.'

  With bloodshot eyes, Moulin abruptly rose from the bed and held his head. Numbing pain pierced his brain, and he could not help but groan. Fingers trembled against his hair. His eyes are shut tight, forcing himself to bear the pain. 

'What in the world is this?!'

There was shouting in the background. Na'El yelled out orders, and the sound of footsteps increased, growing chaotic. However, Moulin was deaf to the world as he held his head between his hands.

Hands...

"..."

Moulin froze. Gradually, he raised his head and gazed down at his shoulder where a cleanly severed stump should be found. However, what welcomed his dazed eyes was a whole limb, perfectly attached to his body as though nothing had ever happened to it. 

"Ah..." Moulin's mouth gaped as he raised his left hand. Eyes wide in shock and disbelief. He could hear his heart pounding violently against his chest.

Closely examining it, he realized an evident difference. 

His hand was a pure shade of glistening white fading to the end of his elbow. Faint swirls of gold embellished his wrist and the smooth back of his hand. The skin texture was as soft as his other arm, impeccably identical. His flesh and bones were intact as well. 

Although there was this slight difference, his arm remained the same. 

But how did this happen? No one was as certain as him about what happened to his arm. The blade was flawlessly sharp, severing all bone and muscle in one slash. When he regained consciousness after leaving the core, he couldn't deny the unbearable pain that abruptly came. It was cut clean...

"I know you are confused, but please don't wear yourself from confusion." Na'El's smooth voice flowed into Moulin's ears, finally catching the youth's attention. The oracle's neck and temples were wrapped in bandages. His bruises were far from healed. However, he looked bright and energetic. 

The silver-eyed aphrodite dazedly stared at the oracle as if all the answers were written on the elf's face. 

"..."

Sighing, Na'El exposed a weak smile. "Many have waited for you to regain consciousness. Your friends and comrades are worried. Your brother... seemed like he would destroy the maeruthan's courtyard if you were asleep for another day. And Lord Hadrian is quite anxious..."

Moulin's heart almost stopped. His fingers subconsciously clenched on the sheets beside him. 'Hadrian?' 

"Ao!"

Moulin blinked as a ball of white hopped unto the bed, bouncing slightly when it landed on his thighs. A soft fluffy tail wagged ferociously as its owner faced the surprised young man before him. Snow huffed angrily, feeling wronged and worried. His master told him to fetch other people, and he obeyed. His master told him to protect other people, and he followed. Master clearly said he would be fine, forcing Snow to leave. Looking at his state now, how was this fine?!

Moulin drew his brows together as he tried to calm the little fox gnawing the front of his shirt in anger. Beside the bed, another beast approached the two. Keir's shiny black fur gleamed as he sat beside the bedside. He lowered his head, nudging Moulin's fingers with a faint whine. Heart-struck, Moulin did his best to soothe both creatures, one big and one small. 

Chuckling, Na'El stood up, "I will send for your meal. Meanwhile, stay and entertain your dear brother."

Moulin immediately raised his head and swallowed. "My brother?"

Bang!

Startled, Moulin stiffened. Snow jumped and burrowed into Moulin's arms. He growled at the sudden noise. 

"Moulin!" Panting heavily, Emlen marched towards his little brother's bed. His imposing gait made the younger sibling draw back into the far side of the bed. Judging from Emlen's expression, filled with a blend of anger and sorrow, Moulin would receive quite an earful. 

Allowing the brothers to have a private conversation, Na'El quietly left the vicinity with a faint smile. 

It took more than an hour for Emlen to finally soften his voice. His eyes were red, hot with tears that refused to fall. When he finally saw his little brother within the arms of Lord Hercullio, surrounded by healers. He felt like a dagger stabbed his heart, twisting and turning, carving out a hole, bleeding endlessly. Even when he currently saw Moulin, all well and healed, he could not escape the painful feeling inside his chest. 

Moulin apologized a thousand times, unable to bear his brother's despair. In the end, he could not refuse every command his brother gave to him. He fed Moulin, examined his injuries, and even called up healers every hour. The visitors who wanted to enter couldn't even knock on the door because of Emlen's strict command of those guarding the quarters. Moulin restrained the desire to stop him and kept himself still and obedient. 

Emlen's eyes narrowed, "Stay, and don't even think about moving away from the bed."

Moulin nodded. The court had requested Emlen's presence, and although he refused, the elven court only sent five more messengers into Moulin's room. A storm brewed in his brother's eyes as he left the room in haste. 

At last, silence filled the chambers. Snow and Kier finally moved from their original places and coddled their silver-eyed master. 

While stroking the furry beasts, Moulin raised his gaze to the tall windows. The leaves rustled, and branches creaked. Unlike the lifelessness they possessed before, the vegetation appeared livelier. Birds nested on one of the tree branches, chirping pleasantly. 

Whoosh!

Moulin's eyes brightened. Past the branches, he witnessed large figures gliding in the sky. The Eagles released a mighty cry as if greeting Moulin. The young man's heart swelled with warmth. 

Creak!

Moulin paused. Another presence joined them within the room. Snow and Kier raised their heads and glanced at each other before moving away from the bed. 

The youth's heartbeat quickened. His hair lightly fluttered from the faint breeze that slipped through the window opening. Silver eyes brightened like a moonlight glow. 

"Moulin..." 

Moulin was more familiar with this voice than anyone else. He turned his head to the person standing before the door.

  "Hadrian."