"I am searching for someone..."
There was a coil of confusion springing in Moulin's heart. However, he could understand the many things he had missed during the years of his disappearance. The people he knew had met more people, gained new friends while he was stuck in the past. But what can he do? The shivering anxiety within his friend's eyes could tell him of the heartache.
Moulin had not experienced their suffering. Sympathy and sorrow poured out of his soul. The people he knew had gone through so much; it felt hurtful. Moulin's eyes slowly dipped to the trembling fingers almost piercing through the brown fabric of the seat.
He spoke, "Who is it?"
Jagra closed his eyes. A sorrowful expression layered his calm countenance like a thick blanket. "I... don't remember..."
"You don't?"
Dread began to crack through Jagra's expression. The man's voice quivered. "I-I will know him when I see him... I know I can. I... need to find him. I need to look for him."
Moulin furrowed his brows. Him? So it was a man. But who? "You really don't remember him?"
Jagra shook his head, "I can't... I don't. I've started having these... memories. So... I've had my soul examined, and the remnants of an unfinished spell were found. Fortunately, it was removed quickly before it could affect my inner spirit. But the dreams didn't stop coming to me... I know him. He's... alive." Jagra placed his hands on his knees. "I want to find him..."
The dark of his hair fell over his eyes, concealing the hopelessness. Plagued by the blurred and cracked memories that seemed to reveal themselves three ago, he had lost sleep and afflicted by sudden trances.
A man, detached, looking better when he stepped out of the shadows. A faint smile and then the silent words. It ended before Jagra could even realize it. Something inside Jagra knew he needed to find him. However, a part of him wanted to never look for him. Buried fear and anger, compelling him to refuse. Despite this, he couldn't stop... yearning.
Moulin silently observed his friend. His silver eyes reflecting Jagra's confused and miserable appearance. Although he wanted to comfort his friend, he didn't want to agree to Jagra's plea hastily. Some things needed to be considered. Emlen had told him many times about the dangers they would encounter in their journey. The torn land, corrupted waters, and lurking creatures of the dark and day.
The travel will be life-threatening. Jagra looked unsure about the person he was talking about. If Moulin would allow him to accompany them and meet no one, in the end, it will undoubtedly be disappointing. Moulin didn't want to risk Jagra's life because of something uncertain...
Sensing, Moulin's hesitance and doubt. Jagra felt his palms sweat. Hopelessness rolled down his face like sweat. "I am capable enough to defend myself. Although I may not be as familiar with the land like Ghana, I am skilled enough not to drag anyone down." After all, he wouldn't be named one of the leading arcane mages in Helios.
".." Moulin lifted his gaze, and he sighed. were "I hold no position in the Halls of the Lords of the Towers. I would love to help you. However, I must speak to Hadrian and the rest about this first. Perhaps, I can give you an answer tomorrow at noon,"
Hope sparked in Jagra's eyes. Life brightened in his heart. Although it was still undecided, it was all he needed. He knew joining the expedition wouldn't be easy. But Moulin granted him the hope he yearned.
"Thank you..." He said. His voice was almost stiff. He felt that words weren't enough, but he couldn't do anything in his state. Thus, he could only repeat his words of gratitude.
Moulin raised a hand and comfortingly rubbed Jagra's shoulder. His smile was sweet, like a drop of moonlight dripping unto the still mirror-like lake water. Jagra couldn't help but feel swelling comfort. Moulin was always good at soothing him.
Minutes later, Pola arrived with a cask in her hand. Jagra's leg had healed quickly, but Pola didn't want to take any chances. Finally, Ghana and Sarion were allowed entry. Ghana was restraining a laugh as she took in the sight of his constantly calm friend.
Moulin excused himself and left the room. His eyes searched the hallways and rooms in search of one particular lord. As he neared one of the rooms, he overheard voices.
Moulin lifted a corner of his lips. No doubt this was his man and Varick. He reached out his hand. However, the door abruptly opened on its own, revealing Varick's smiling face. The man was filled with unrestrained happiness, making Moulin looked slightly confused.
"Ah, young Lord." Varick greeted, stepping aside from the door.
Moulin smiled, "You look happy."
Varick paused. His gaze dipped, embarrassment tinted his face. It was an amusing sight. "Ah, yes. The Lord is in the balcony."
"Thank you, Varick." Moulin warmly said as he walked past him. Varick nodded to him before the door closed.
True to Varick's words, Moulin found Hadrian leaning in the wooden railing of the balcony. The man had a glass of red wine in his hand, and his golden gaze looked calculating yet calm as it swept throughout the not-so-empty streets. His coat hanging over the banister just beside his hip. He looked handsome and languid like a man enjoying the night without the care of the world.
Moulin was only standing before the doorway, silent and observing the scene with amused eyes. Ah, what was he to do with an enchanting masculine man?
'Drown him with attention until he couldn't live without seeing my face,' Moulin thought with a chuckle. It sounded pitiful but true.
"Don't you want to accompany me?"
Hadrian's voice suddenly yanked Moulin down from his thoughts. The youth raised his eyes and saw Hadrian casually tilting his head with an amused smile.
Hadrian beckoned him with a finger. A test to his daring and sweet lover. That is if Moulin would take the bait. Fortunately, he didn't.
Rolling his eyes, Moulin eyed the glass in the man's hand. "Feeling lonely, my lord?"
Hadrian lowered his hand. His eyes glanced at the crimson liquid within his glass. The faint breeze of the night brushed past his figure. The wind caught golden strands of his hair. Hadrian spoke lowly with a deep gaze. "I am ever since my lover left me alone and went to care for another man. Truly cruel..."
Moulin scoffed, amused. He approached Hadrian and slid his fingers into the man's grasp, and stole his drink. He took a sip and leaned forward to capture the lips of his beloved. Feeling the taste of wine and softness of his beloved's mouth, Hadrian smiled between the kiss and circled a hand around Moulin's waist, pulling the youth closer to him. A giggle sounded as Moulin pulled away.
"How about now?"
Hadrian raised an eyebrow, "Slightly comforted. Unless you give me more."
Moulin shook his head, placing the glass on the railing and pressing himself closer to Hadrian, feeling the man's heartbeat resonating with his own. It felt wonderful to be in Hadrian's arms. He felt protected and incredibly loved. Every touch and kiss was hot and sweet, like warm water caressing his skin satisfyingly.
Hadrian's eyes lowered and kept Moulin in his arms. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips, and he planted a kiss on Moulin's head.
Moulin closed his eyes, leaning back into Hadrian's chest. "Varick looked happy when he left. What did you talk about?"
Hadrian replied. "I told him that he didn't need to overwork himself too hard anymore. That he can rely on me sometimes. Perhaps, my lack of action over the years has provoked him to work in my stead. Now, he didn't need to anymore. Like this, he can spend his nights relaxing and with his close friends."
Moulin smiled, "Do you know. He wanted you to rely on him more as you can with him as well. I can see it. He wants to help you as much as he can. He's your closest ally and friend."
Hadrian's eyes grew deep, and he nodded. "Mn, you are right."
"But you probably scared the soul out of him for coming unannounced." Moulin chuckled, recalling the face Varick made when he first saw Hadrian earlier.
"Yes. It was amusing." Hadrian smirked as he nuzzles his nose on Moulin's neck. "Is your friend well?"
Suddenly reminded of Jagra, Moulin recalled their conversation. With a sigh, Moulin nodded. "Yes. Fortunately, he'll be able to walk in a few minutes. I didn't realize your very presence was so intimidating that it caused an accident out of nowhere."
Hadrian chuckled. His lips curling as it pressed on Moulin's jaw. "Do you think I'm a dangerous being?"
"No." Moulin smiled.
"Am I not beastly enough in our bed, my love?" Hadrian pressed his lips to Moulin's ear. The depth of his voice was hauntingly captivating.
"You're beast enough never to let me sleep a wink," Moulin spoke as he pulled away. With a brief kiss, he pulled Hadrian into the room.
"I would never hurt you..." Hadrian suddenly said.
Moulin paused and turned his head, surprised.
Hadrian continued with a whisper. His eyes are filled with only Moulin's image, keeping the youth within his gaze. "Never again..."
A promise, Hadrian had kept to himself.
Moulin silently stared at him. With faint steps, he neared Hadrian. He raised his gentle fingers and caressed Hadrian's cheek. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Hadrian. It was like a butterfly's touch.
"I know..." Moulin whispered. "I know..."
"Come, I sensed your hunger. Dinner will start soon. I would like to see their faces when you join them at the table." Moulin pulled him with a smile.
"How naughty." Hadrian smiled. "Are you sure it isn't you who's hungry?" He let Moulin lead him out of the room.
Moulin chuckled, shaking ha head.
Jagra was finally able to walk after a few minutes. He hurried to the kitchens with Pola scolding after him. In the end, the two worked together to bring the food to the dining table and having Ghana, and the rest set the table. As they worked, their joking tones and words filled the air. Moulin laughed at Ghana's silliness while he brought the wine Ghana had collected from the cellar.
When Moulin visited the other room, Varick was having small conversations with Hadrian, who responded generously. He looked as if he wasn't the High Lord of the City but an average man spending time with his friend. The heir of the Morfaers, on the other hand, was as stiff as a pillar as Varick asked him to join them. There was excitement and nervousness as he did.
Finally, the table was ready, and the meal turned out better than Moulin thought. The warmth of the atmosphere was comfortable despite the faint presence of awkwardness. Ghana's liveliness as he joked in front of Hadrian fearlessly. Varick and Sarion sweated buckets as they listened. However, Hadrian's expression didn't change as he moved to fill Moulin's bowl.
"Eat. It would help if you had more stamina." Hadrian said. His tone was emanating slyness.
Moulin choked on his drink and shot Hadrian a look of disbelief. Seriously? During this meal?
When Moulin turned to the rest of the people at the table, they turned away, finding the food more attractive and interesting to the eyes. Moulin cleared his throat and Wait till we get back, this bastard...
When the meal ended, the group decided to end the night. Ghana and the rest had to return to rise early for the next day. Jagra had no complaints. They were extremely busy people, and he understood. Before leaving, Pola confronted Hadrian, who had just finished talking to Varick, when Moulin turned to speak a few words to Jagra.
Her eyes are filled with ferocity as she stared at Hadrian. "Protect him well. Or else, I will cut you down." She threatened before storming off.
Moulin arrived in time to see Pola leaving. He neared Hadrian with a smile. "Good chat?"
Hadrian returned a smile, looking quite undisturbed. "Your little follower is quite fierce."
Moulin nodded. "Yes, she is. I am quite proud. Of her."
"She admires you too much."
"Don't be jealous," Moulin said, tapping Hadrian's cheek. "She's just loyal."
"Hm..." Hadrian shifted his gaze away for a moment. Internally, refuting Moulin's words.
Moulin laughed and held his hand. His eyes are warm. "Come, let's go back."