A voice sang.

Within the vibrant forests filled with strange yet beautiful creatures, a man's voice sang.

'As the seas move towards the ancients, Long live it's God. When the awaited deity awakens... Being misery down to his child...'

The light of the passing sun fell upon a man's poor form. His long dark cloak dragged behind him. It ends filthy and mudded. A large, slightly torn hood covered his facial features. The man did not care. He walked towards the Elven rivers within the woodlands in Meian, the beautiful country governed by elves. The man's dark colors contrasted sharply with the colors of the beautiful surroundings. The tall trees welcomed his presence as if to a friend, not to a foe.

He looked rugged and tall. He lifted his arm from beneath his cloak, wounds in strips decorated his arms. His dirty fingers playing with a vial with unknown contents. A black sludge with glowing hints of red chaotically moving inside, wriggling and appearing so violent. The man walked. Singing the songs of ancients. He was smiling bitterly yet excitedly.

'... And the world shall be cleansed..."

He stopped.

The sound of rushing water from the river in front of him was pleasant and strong. The spray of water reached his bare filthy feet. The woodlands of the kingdom of Meian was always so prosperous and virtuous. Valuing the life of all even if it's tainted. The man smiled. "It's almost pitiful..."

"My master..." A voice sounded behind the tall man. He was more muscular and taller than his master but he lowered himself to the ground in reverence. A thick single horn curved upward at the center of his forehead. His face scarred, remnants of the cruel burnt of the past he had forgotten.

"Alha, our future is near..." The master lifted the vial. His face turned distorted as his smile turned wicked. "We may have lost the sacrificial soul but soon... he will come to us..." As he finished, he tilted the vial and poured its dark contents on the pure, untainted waters of the river. The river continued to move endlessly. Nothing could stop it. It would not stop even if it was polluted.

"The days are short..." The master then sealed the vial and tossed it to his servant behind him.

He lifted his head. Red eyes gazing at the nearby village that lived their prosperity that was given by the pure crystal river.

"... I almost can't wait for the day." He spoke. Eyes gleaming with ambition.

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

Mid-noon.

Within the almost crowded training grounds, a slender youth walked alone. His solitary figure was accompanied by the small white fox keeping up beside him. His beauty catching the eyes of many as he passed by silently. Slowly through the rows of pairs of maeruthans immersed in a spear fight, through the cruel and unbearable looking matches surrounded by small crowds of sentinels, through the quietest part of the training grounds where most people meditate and cultivate.

Moulin was lost in his head that he didn't realize that he had arrived at the front of the vast forests passed the training grounds. Only when Snow had locked his way did Moulin stop and look.

Moulin's expression was blank. Impassive. Devoid of emotions.

He breathes the cool air that he knows had the essence of the falls sitting underneath the Leonile manor. The air was cool and comforting... But he doesn't feel comforted. Instead, he felt restless. Emotions mixed in a massive whirlpool inside him. He doesn't know what to feel at the moment.

There was a calmness in the depths of his chest but it was overwhelmed by the turmoil.

Two incidents within one week. It was more grave than Moulin thought.

He only hoped his family and the people in the estate were safe and sound.

"Ao?"

Moulin lowered his gaze, noticing the little fox rubbing his head on Moulin's leather-covered calves. Silver eyes softened and Moulin crouched to pick up Snow. He knew well Snow was wishing to be carried like a child. Moulin restrained a smile.

Tucking Snow in his embrace, Moulin lowered his head to stare into Snow's silver eyes. Truly, his and Snow's eyes looked undeniably alike. It was somehow suspicious. If he recalled, he remembered Snow was the one who found him in the wintery woods. The one who led him towards the river. Trusted him wholeheartedly. It was strangely suspicious.

Moulin softened his eyes, looking helpless as Snow flashed his usual watery beady eyes at him. Although he was a little wary of Snow, the little fox was the only one who had accompanied him in the woods. He was thankful and happy.

"Ao!"

Snow suddenly licked Moulin's chin which surprised Moulin. In the next instance, the little brat unexpectedly jumped off Moulin's arms and landed swiftly on the ground.

"Snow?" Moulin knitted his eyebrows in confusion. What's wrong this time?

"Ao!" Snow happily yipped. As he scurried a few meters away from Moulin. As he finally stopped, Snow stared at his master cheerfully.

Moulin was about to come near when a glare of light suddenly flashed before his eyes. He slightly squinted his eyes with a vague feeling in his heart. The light only lasted no more than two seconds when a large graceful snow-white beast appeared before the youth. The six large heavy tails swayed elegantly behind the mystic beast. The gold tips of the white silvery fur forming intricate markings at the tips of each tail and on its forehead like a crown. Honestly, Snow's Mystic form was gorgeous. Moulin was out of words to describe it. He only wondered why the brat could not retain his mystic form every day.

This type of Snow was silent and quiet, growling occasionally, unlike his tiny form which was quite noisy and well... admittedly adorable.

Snow moved towards Moulin. The beast's movements were sophisticated and elegant. Moulin almost rolled his eyes. Moulin also reached for his friend. His fingers running through the soft, beautiful, neat fur on Snow's head. It was pleasant to the touch. Almost addicting. Moulin sighed. He tried to hug Snow's whole head out of curiosity but it was hopeless. The creature was bigger than him and taller than him. Moulin resisted the urge to scoff.

"It's good that you can turn small..." Moulin spoke with a joking tone. "Otherwise, I would have to make you sleep outside. My room can't fit you and I don't think Troid wants you to sleep in the beast's den..."

Snow only whimpered, sullenly.

Moulin smiles. It was sweet and warm. Stroking underneath Snow's head, Moulin gazed into the Mystic beast's eyes. Identical eyes gazing into each other as though in a mirror. Silent but full of life. Snow's eyes were loyal and dependable. Moulin was really fond of it. As if it means that he isn't alone. Someone to share a burden with. That no matter what happens he can count on Snow at any time. Sometimes, Moulin would think that getting attached would always get him hurt in the end. Although it was only sometimes, it was bothering. But perhaps there was hope in the end.

Moulin's smile warms. His eyes still on Snow. "Are you always going to be with me, Snow?"

In response, Snow rubbed his furry head on his master's neck. Docile and idolizing. Moulin laughed softly as he rested his head on Snow's forehead. "Then that's a promise..."

The pair coddled with each other warmly. This was one of the rare times Moulin and Snow would spend time together alone. Although they were together almost most times of the day, Moulin was always too busy to pay attention to his little fox. The only times of the day where they would spend time with each other would be before going to bed at night. Where they would sleep together like they always do ever since their time together in the northern mountains.

The moment was cherishing and in the unknown future, both of them would greatly miss each other's company.

"Moulin!"

A loud voice called out from behind Moulin. Snow almost growled at the disturbance. If he was in his small form he would've looked adorable but in his Mystic form, his disturbed look appeared to be extremely terrifying. Moulin pulled away from Snow and turned around.

Silver eyes caught the tiring figure of the young man with deep blue hair walking towards him. It was no other than the older twin, Troid. The man nearing Moulin and Snow stopped briefly as he assessed the Mystic beast beside Moulin with hesitation in his eyes. The little devil looked even more terrifying in his Mystic beast form!

Despite the hint of hesitation and fear in Troid's vibrant blue eyes, awe and admiration also welled in his chest. He was a beast tamer in the guild and so he knew quite a lot about most creatures especially Mystic beasts. Majestic creatures they are. He could not stop studying them. Yet, right before him stood a genuine Mystic beast of ancient blood and he was too afraid to go near it!

"He... won't attack me, right?" Troid asked. His tone almost squeaking.

"Hmm..." Moulin playfully glanced at Snow as he caressed Snow's neck. "...depends"

Snow let out a growl making the once stern Troid flinch. 'Please don't...

Moulin let out a chuckle before he patted Opallian Fox's head playfully, "Snow..." He called. Understanding his master's meaning, Snow instantly transformed into his usual tiny form. His small paws hopped on Moulin's arms when Moulin crouched to pick him up. The pair's movements were swift and fluid. Troid only blinked at both of them.

"What have you come for, Sir?" Moulin asked. His silver eyes gazed at Troid as if trying to read through the man.

Troid only felt sweat running down his back. What's with the look?! He only came to inform him!

"The lord summons you... tonight... in his quarters..."

His voice gradually softened as he spoke. He was too embarrassed to act as a messenger for the pair of lovers. In the first place, it wasn't supposed to be him to notify Moulin. The scheming twin of his ran to do something else while he was left under the Lord's mercy. He really wanted to drown the fool once he was done.

"Hmm..." Moulin thoughtfully looked up. "Is this about the dinner?..." It seems the Lord was back early. Perhaps, the situation was resolved early in the Temple of Thaeria.

His voice was soft like a whisper but Troid heard it clearly.

Troid only kept his head high to avoid disappointing Moulin. "Yes..."

So the Lord and Moulin were going to dine together? Their level of intimacy was so high already. Is it possible that the two have already done it?

Then a thought came into his mind.

Moulin was from the Grand noble family of the Left Imperial court while Lord Hercullio was from an Archnoble family of the Right Imperial court. Their families were from opposing sides. There were bound to be some trouble if their relationship would become genuine with marriage involving in their hearts.

Troid could not help but worry for them.

"Thank you for informing me, Sir," Moulin said gracefully. He was wondering what plans were the lord planning for their dining. Moulin's taste wasn't lavish.

"Your welcome..." Troid nodded. "And... you can call me Troid..." He was not going to have the future partner of their lord to be addressing him as 'Sir' all the time.

Moulin blinked.

Although he was confused, he only smiled and nodded. Isn't 'Sir' the supposed to be how he should address his senior?

"I will take my leave..." Troid bowed. He then turned to walk away from them. His mind filled with a thousand tortures he was going to inflict on his brother once he catches the fool.

Moulin gave a questioning look at the departing back of his senior. He dismissed his thoughts and glanced at Snow in his arms, who was staring so intently at Moulin. The brat's eyes were sharp... and interrogating.

Moulin knew what Snow was thinking and he could not help but sigh. "I can't take you with me, Snow..."

Snow eyes instantly turned watery. His small figure drooping like a forgotten wilting plant.

This act was always extremely effective. Moulin was tempted to succumb to those sullen silver eyes. However, he remembered that Hadrian and Snow... don't get along with each other. Although they didn't interact much during the last time the Lord had visited Moulin's room, Moulin knew both the beast and the Lord disliked the other at a particular level. They are quite unfriendly with each other.

Moulin only promised Snow a whole day of coddling with each other in their room with a pile of food around them. And as the youth expected, Snow directly yipped happily at the sound of food. Moulin reminded himself to feed Snow before he goes to his date-cough- dinner.

'I hope it won't take long' Moulin thought as he rubbed Snow's head.

They headed towards the training grounds as a splash of orange filled the sky.

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

Night soon came as well as the hunger nesting in Moulin's stomach. It was a tiring day. He couldn't deny that.

Moulin traveled up the staircase of the Leonile tower like a shadow spy. Under his thick cloak, was a decent looking shirt, loose ruffles at the sleeves. His pants were tight and right. His hair is tied in a loose braid down his back. He didn't make much effort on his clothes but it still looked splendid to him. He was just going to have a nice dinner and then retire to his room afterwards. He was sure he won't have the energy to change once he gets back to his room

When Moulin arrived at the single hallway he observed the doors curiously. 'No guards again...' He thought as he walked.

Was it always like this whenever he visits? Or did the Lord drive the guards away for privacy? Nevertheless, it was quite convenient. Moulin wouldn't have to hide like a rat or threaten anyone as he makes his way.

He stood before the doors and knocked twice. "Milord?... I'm coming in..." He didn't care about decency anymore. He was hungry.

He pushed one of the doors open and he assessed the vast glamorous room. Fit for a king indeed.

"So... You really came..."

A voice which Moulin is quite familiar with spoke at Moulin's right. His voice deep and magnetic, almost hypnotizing. Oh so ineffective against Moulin as the youth only rolled his eyes, walking towards the large terrace.

"I was hungry..." Moulin casually said as his silver gaze landed on the tall man leaning on the banister. Appearing so majestic and lofty. 'Sigh'. Like a king indeed.

"You only came to sate your hunger? I'm quite offended." The Lord smirked. Welcoming Moulin with the nightly breeze.

"It's just dinner, Milord..." Moulin raises an eyebrow. He steps into the moonlight, hair glistening under the light. He breathes the cool air as he places his hands on the rails.

"Just dinner?" Hadrian chuckled. He shakes his head as though to not acknowledge Moulin's decisive statement.

"Do you know what it means to dine with a noble Maeruthan in the night?" He took a step closer to the youth, who seemed to look vigilant yet unmoving with anticipation.

The Lord then whispered in a desirous voice.

"It means that after their stomachs are filled, they spend the night on the bed in sweet heated lovemaking."