Chapter 251: Reuniting Anxiously

Something was tickling his cheek, like the tips of brush bristles caressing his cheek.

A huff blew in his face, and Moulin was more awake than he was a minute before. Slowly, he opened his eyes and waited until his vision adjusted. The drowsiness which kept him asleep gradually diminished. He turned his gaze away from the ceiling and looked at the thing that awoke him.

Golden eyes, burning brighter than the sun, met his silver gaze. A long, slender black snout bumped his cheek gently. A midnight black wolf was panting before his face, huffing excitedly. Its front paws, marked with flaming gold, rested at the edge of the bed as the creature leaned forward and sniffed Moulin carefully.

Moulin stared.

In the next second, he hastily backed away from the creature with wide eyes. His heart drummed as his back met the headboard with a soft thud. The black wolf tilted its head, confused by Moulin's movements. Moulin slightly drew his brows together, confusingly. Why the hell is a massive staring at me while I slept?

"You don't recognize him?" A smooth voice spoke.

Draw by the familiar voice, Moulin turned his head and sighed in relief. Hadrian was sitting by his side. The book in the man's hand closed. His fingers stroking the spine of the leather book. Golden eyes met Moulin's gaze, and an indescribable warmth flowed inside his irises.

Moulin furrowed his brows when he recalled Hadrian's words. 'Recognize?'

He shifted his attention to the large beast beside his bed and gave the wolf a long, deep stare. This time every little detail, starting from the sight of those beady golden eyes to its shiny black fur, became extremely familiar to him. The pieces were connecting, and Moulin widened his eyes. His lips parted slowly, and his hand reached out.

Moulin's voice was soft and gentle, filled with surprise and shock. "Kier?"

At the sound of his name, Kier barked loudly. It was so loud Moulin wished he had covered his ears in time. Kier had grown surprisingly large. Every bit of adorable submissiveness in his nature had transformed into something fierce and intimidating. At first sight, people would have thought that he was an aggressive creature. But in front of Moulin, he was surprisingly submissive, with his tail that was wagging happily. Surprise coursed through Moulin's veins.

"Kier…" Moulin stroked the wolf's crown. The black fur and his pale rosy fingertips contrasted deeply. Ignoring the frightful row of teeth Kier was exposing as he panted excitedly, Moulin brought himself closer to the wolf and smiled. "Look how big you've grown…"

Kier barked in response, which earned him a chuckle from Moulin.

Hadrian watched the two. More specifically, he was watching Moulin, smiling happily. The warmth and gentleness in the youth's bright eyes were like a cool, soothing current that nourished Hadrian's barren soul. It felt like flowers would bloom, and the sun would shine brighter in his presence. Hadrian lowered his head, finding his thoughts absurd yet, he didn't deny every single bit of it.

"This marks…" Moulin suddenly interrupted his thoughts. The youth touched Kier's paws curiously. "I don't remember him having these when he was a pup…"

"It appeared a few years ago. I discovered his lineage to the blood of Ancient Aurelion hounds in Rafelon. He's the last of his kind." Hadrian said as he raised his hand. Kier noticed his gesture and immediately hopped down the bed, went around it, and approached Hadrian's hand. The floor seemed to tremble under the wolf's weight.

Moulin watched intriguingly as Kier obediently let Hadrian stroke his head. The wolf's tail was wagging frantically.

"I see you have grown closer," Moulin smirked.

Hadrian faced him with deep eyes. "He's a great company."

The youth stopped. His eyes slowly lowered as he understood the meaning of those words. Kier must have been there for Hadrian during the past eight years. Perhaps it was Kier who had stayed by his side, comforting him in the solitude of this vast chamber. Moulin smiled wistfully.

"You must dress…" Hadrian stood from his seat. He placed the book on the bedside.

Moulin titled his head. "Why?"

The Lord paused. He turned he said and smiled. "Your brothers will be visiting you…"

........

"W-What did you say?"

Grey eyes were wide in shock. He stood frozen beside his elder brother's desk. Emlen's mind blanked and his hand searched for the wooden edge of the table to support himself. He wasn't the only one shocked to the core, for Maxille was also frozen and lost for words. The documents in his hand were crushed into his fists.

The person in front of them was Lord Maxille's right hand. The man was stiff before the two Lords. He felt as though the weight of their aura would crush his bones. However, he refused to withdraw. The message he was sent to deliver was more important than his life, he believed. It will change his master's life forever.

"What…" Emlen's heard drummed loudly. His breathing hastened, and he raised a trembling hand to his chest. The words from the man's mouth stabbed into his head.

"My brother… My little brother… H-He's alive?" Emlen lifted his head. His eyes searching for confirmation. He would kill for the truth.

Maxille was deadly silent. His eyes bore at his subordinate's head. If it were another person, he would have sliced their head off without a second thought. Anyone who dared to scorn his dear little brother, be it simple jokes, didn't deserve to live. Right now, he was hearing this from his own trusted person. His brother was dead. How can this be believable?

Realizing that the two men needed a bit of time to process the information, the sentinel excused himself after telling the room where they would reunite with their lost sibling. Maxille allowed him to leave the room with a shaken expression.

"How can this be?" Emlen turned his head. "Moulin… he's alive…"

After a few seconds, Maxille abruptly stood up, not even caring as he knocked down his chair. He marched towards the door with a clenched jaw.

"Where are you going?" Emlen questioned before Maxille could open the door.

"To see him…"

Emlen exhaled a stuttering breath as he slowly approached his brother. "Is it true?"

"…" Maxille tightened his grip around the door handle. His grey eyes deepened. Inside, he knew his subordinate could never lie in front of him. Then… doesn't that mean it's true?

His little brother, alive and well. Warmly smiling with a beating heart, as he always does in his memories. His pure gentle eyes brighten at the sight of them.

…

He was dead. As what that damn Hercullio and the rest of the people thought. But they never found his body. They couldn't build him a grave. For some reason, Lord Hercullio would refuse it. He'd destroy everything in a manic rage. This is why Maxille chose to bury Moulin and his mother in his heart. And perhaps Emlen would as well.

If this was Moulin right now… then what happened to him all these years? Where was he? How did he come back?

With furrowed brows, Maxille was going to find out. He would confirm the lies and the truth right now.

"Let's go…" Maxille said as he opened the doors.

...…..

"Ao!"

"Snow, stay still..." Moulin said while he combed his hair. His fingertips were trembling as they struggled to hold the brush. In the end, Moulin could only groan as he tossed the brush behind him. His hair had grown impossibly long. 

Why did this happen?

The last time he checked, his hair didn't even reach the bottom of his ass. Now, he felt like a male rapunzel.

Suddenly, a particular furry brat dived into the silvery waves of hair on the sheets. They glistened like thin silver threads exposed under the moonlight. Snow playfully pawed the strands and accidentally pulled on Moulin's scalp. With a hiss, Moulin turned his head and glared at the mischievous little brat behind him. "Snow!" He narrowed his eyes.

"Ao?"

The little snow-white fox slowly retreats from the puddle of hair. His eyes never breaking contact with his master. Blinking innocently, he sat on the side and tilted his head. His ears perking up.

"..." 

Moulin exhales with furrowed brows. The sight of this little adorable brat seemed to blind him. This little brat didn't change a bit.

Moulin placed Snow in his lap and told him to behave. Meanwhile, Moulin decided to braid his hair. He found his hair's length too annoying. It would hinder him in battle and... he didn't want to look like a woman at all!

He'll trim it later when he returns.

"WOOF!" 

Turning his attention, Moulin caught Kier approaching the bed with his large form. Moulin hadn't quite adjusted to the intimidation the wolf exuded, but he wasn't wary. He knows Kier wouldn't hurt him. Moulin slightly lifted his hand and watched as the wolf rested his head on Moulin's lap beside Snow. With his paw, the little fox tapped Kier's head in dissatisfaction. Why is this wolf trying to compete with him for his master's affection?

As Moulin stroked Kier's head, his thoughts drifted to his brothers. A sense of unease and nervousness slowly overwhelms him. He wasn't ready to face their doubts. Their reactions would probably scare him. They weren't like Hadrian who would know Moulin by soul and instantly recognize Moulin. They were different and sometimes... their intelligence scared him. 

Moulin knitted his brows in concern. Will they recognize me?

...

Just imagining their wary gazes and the doubt in their eyes... Moulin would probably retreat.

Pausing his movements, Moulin clenched his fists. He was unaware of the concerned look the beasts were giving him.

The ticking of the clock at the bedside drew his attention. And for a moment, Moulin hesitates...

Tick...

Tick...

Tick...

A sigh escaped the young man's lips. Silver eyes deepened. 

"Screw it..." He muttered.

The next second, he stands. Snow jumped down from his lap and sat on the floor beside Kier. Both beasts watched as Moulin slipped on a robe. His movements were hasty and filled with force. 

Snow and Kier glanced at each other.

"Snow, Kier... come," Moulin said as he went through the doorways and made his way towards the door. The wolf and the fox trailed after him. 

He was going to see them himself and face their reactions. 

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

"Brother..." Emlen was like a shadow behind his elder brother's figure. He had kept his head low during the entire journey inside the tower. His neck was starting to hurt. But he refused to stray from his thoughts. The anticipation eating him away inside. The questions... The hope...

"One look and we shall know..." Maxille responded. A heavy aura surrounded him. Their figures were exposed to the open area and many people were surprised at their presence. Usually, the Fraunces brothers would never step foot in Middle Tower. They guess it was because they didn't want to get involved with the Golden Lord. 

"Do you doubt it would be him?" Emlen suddenly said.

Knitting his eyebrows, Maxille'd eyes deepened. "I hope it would be him... "

He continued, "All these years, if he was alive, then he must have suffered... "

Moulin... 

They turned to a corner and ventured into the large balcony-like hallway. The view of the Helios was as beautiful as ever. The skies were still dim and the black ring in the sky was prominent.

The hallways were empty and only the faint breeze was there to welcome the two men. 

However, a pair of footsteps join in, loud but not echoing. 

Both brothers raised their gaze. They witnessed a single person walking towards them with slow steps. A large wolf walked on one side with a small fox sitting on his back, peeking between the wolf's upright ears.

Maxille's steps ceased and Emlen followed. They stopped, seeming frozen. 

The youth ambled as his gaze remained beyond the pillars, at the scenery of Helios. His silver eyes were dazed. He wasn't paying attention to the scenery but something that troubled him in his mind. A wistful smile graced his lips as the silvery strands on his forehead were swept by the wind. And a blue crystal necklace rested below his exposed collarbone.

Maxille and Emlen were not fools to not recognize the person they longed to see. Their hearts pounded loudly.

Moulin... It's really him... Our little brother...

Moulin turned his head. His gaze fell upon the two figures that stood before him.